The Adventure of the Second Stain by Sir Arthur Kernan Doyle. I had intended
the Adventure of the Abbey Grange to be the last of those exploits of my
friend mister Shollock Holmes which I should ever communicate to the public. This resolution
of mine was not due to any lack of material, since I have notes
of many hundreds of cases to which I have never alluded, nor was it
caused by any waning interest on the part of my readers in the singular personality
and unique methods of this remarkable man. The real reason lay in the reluctance
which mister Holmes has shown to the continued publication of his experiences. So long
as he was in actual professional practice, the records of his successes were of
some practical value to him. But since he has definitely retired from London and
betaken himself to study and bee farming on the Sussex Downs, notoriety has become
hateful to him, and he has peremptorily requested that his wishes in this matter
should be strictly observed. It was only upon my representing to him that I
had given a promise that the adventure of the second stain should be published when
the times were ripe, and pointing out to him that it is only appropriate
that this long series of episodes should culminate in the most important international case which
he has ever been called upon to handle, that I at last succeeded in
obtaining his consent that a carefully guarded account of the incident should at last be
laid before the public. If in telling the story I seem to be somewhat
vague in certain details, the public will readily understand that there is an excellent
reason for my reticence. It was then, in a year, and even
in a decade that shall be nameless, that upon one Tuesday morning in autumn,
we found two visitors of European fame within the walls of our humble room
in Baker Street. The one, austere, high nosed, eagle eyed and
dominant, was none other than the illustrious Lord Bedinger, twice Premier of Britain.
The other, dark, clear cut and elegant, hardly yet of middle
age, and endowed with every beauty of body and of mind, was the
right Honorable Trelawny Hope, Secretary for European Affairs, and the most rising statesman
in the country. They sat side by side upon our paper littered settee,
and it was easy to see from their worn and anxious faces that it was
business of the most pressing importance which had brought them. The Premiere's thin,
blue veined hands were clasped tightly over the ivory head of his umbrella, and
his gaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily from homes to me. The European of
Secretary pulled nervously at his mustache and fidgeted with the seals of his watch chain.
When I discovered my lost, mister Holmes, which was at eight o'clock
this morning, I at once informed of the Primer Minister. It was at
his suggestion that we have both come to you. Have you informed the police?
No, sir, said the Prime Minister, with a quick, decisive
manner for which he was famous. We have not done so, nor is
it possible that we should do so. To inform the police must, in
the long run mean to inform the public. This is what we particularly desire
to avoid, And why, sir, Because the documenting question of such immense
importance that its publication might very easily, I might almost say, probably lead
to European complications of the utmost moment. It is not too much to say
that peace or war may hang upon the issue. Unless its recovery can be
attended with the utmost secrecy, then it may as well not be recovered at
all. For all that is aimed at by those who have taken it is
that its contents should be generally known. I understand now, mister Trelawney,
hope, I shall be most obliged if you would tell me exactly the circumstances
under which this document disappeared. That commit done in a very few words,
mister Holmes. The letter for it was a letter from a foreign potentate was
received six days ago. It was of such important that I have never left
it in my safe, but have taken it across each evening to my house
in Whitehall Terrace and kept it in my bedroom in a locked despatch box.
It was there last night of that I am certain. I actually opened the
box while I was dressing for dinner and saw the document inside. This morning
it was gone. The despatch box had stood upside the glass upon my dressing
table all night. I am a light sleeper, and so is my wife.
We are both prepared to swear that no one could have entered the room
during the night. Yet I repeat, the paper is gone, and what
time did you dine? Half past seven? How long was it before you
went to bed? My wife had gone to the theater. I waited up
for her. It was half past eleven before we went to our room.
Then for four hours the despatch box had lain unguarded. No one is ever
permitted to enter that room save the housemaid in the morning, and my valet
or my wife's maid during the rest of the day. They are both trusty
servants who have been with us for some time. Besides, neither of them
could possibly have known that there was anything more valuable than the ordinary departmental papers
in my despatch box. Who did know of the existence of that letter?
No one in the house. Surely your wife knew. No, Sir,
I had said nothing to my wife until I missed the paper this morning.
The Premier nodded approvingly. I have long known, sir. How high is
your sense of public duty? Said he. I am convinced that in the
case of a secret of this importance it it would arise superior to the most
intimate domestic ties. The European secretary bowed. You do me no more than
justice, Sir. Until this morning, I have never breathed one word to
my wife upon this matter. Could she have guessed? No, mister Homes
She could not have guessed, nor could any one have guessed. Have you
lost any documents before? No, sir, Who is there in England who
did know the existence of this letter? Each member of the Cabinet was informed
of it yesterday, But the pledge of secrecy which attends every Cabinet meeting was
increased by the solemn warning which was given by the Prime Minister. Could heavens
to think that within a few hours I should myself have lost it? His
handsome face was distorted with a spasm of despair, and his hands tore at
his hair. For a moment we caught a glimpse of the natural man,
impulsive, ardent, keenly sensitive. The next the aristocratic mask was replaced and
the gentle voice had returned. Besides the member of the cabinet, there are
two or possibly three departmental officials who knew of the letter. No one else
in England, mister Holmes, I assure you, But abroad I believe that
no one abroad has seen it save the man who wrote it. I am
well convinced that his ministers that the usual official channels have not been employed.
Holmes considered for some little time. Now, Sir, I must ask you
more particularly what this document is and why its disappearance such of some such momentous
consequences. The two statesmen exchanged a quick glance, and the premiere's shaggy eyebrows
gathered in a frown. Mister Holmes that the envelope is a long, thin
one of pale blue color. There is a seal of red wax stamped with
a crouching lion. It is addressed in large, bold handwriting to it.
I fear, sir, said Holmes, that interesting, in indeed essential,
as these details are, my inquiries must go more to the root of things.
What was the latter? That is a state secret of the utmost importance,
And I fear that I cannot tell you, nor do I see that
it is necessary. If by the aid of the pas which you are said
to possess, you can find such an envelope as I describe, with its
enclosure, you will have deserved well of your country and earned any reward which
it lies in our power to bestow Sharlock holmbs rose the smile. You are
two of the most busy men in the country, said he, And in
my own small way, I have also a good many calls upon me.
I regret exceedingly that I cannot help you in this matter, and any continuation
of this interview would be a waste of time. The Premier sprang to his
feet with that quick, fierce gleam of his deep set eyes before which a
cabinet has cowered. I am not accustomed, sir, he began, but
mastered his anger and resumed his seat. For a minute or more, we
all sat in silence. Then the old statesman shrugged his shoulders. We must
accept your terms, mister Holmes. No doubt you are right, and it
is unreasonable for us to expect you to act unless we give you our entire
confidence. I agree with you, said the younger statesman. Then I will
tell you retire, lying entirely upon your honor and that of your colleague,
doctor Watson. I may appeal to your patriotism also, for I could not
imagine a greater misfortune for the country than that this affair should come out.
You may safely trust us The letter, then, is from a certain foreign
POTENTATORO has been ruffled by some recent colonial developments of this country. It has
been written hurriedly, and upon his own responsibility entirely. Inquires have shown that
his ministers know nothing of the matter. At the same time, it is
couched in so unfortunate a manner, and certain phrases in it are of so
provocative a character, that its publication would undoubtedly lead to a most dangerous state
of feeling in this country. There would be such a firment, sir,
that I do not hesitate to say that within a week of the publication of
that letter, this country would be involved in a great war. Holmes wrote
a name upon a slip of paper and handed it to the premiere. Exactly
it was he, And it is this letter, this letter, which may
well mean the expenditure of a thousand millions and the lives of a hundred thousand
men, which has become lost in this unaccountable fashion. Have you informed of
the sender? Yes, sir, cipher telegram has been dispatched. Perhaps he
desires the publication of the letter. No, sir, we have strong reason
to believe that he already understands that he is acted in an indiscreet and hot
headed manner. It would be a greater blow to him and to his country
than to us if this letter were to come out. If this is so,
whose interest is it that the letter should come out? Why should any
one desire to steal it or to publish it? There, mister Holmes,
you take me into regions of high international politics. But if you consider the
European situation, you will have no difficulty in perceiving the motive. The whole
of Europe is an armed camp. There is a double league which makes a
fair balance of military power. Great Britain holds the scales. If Britain were
driven into war with one confederacy, it was sure the supremacy the other confederacy,
whether they john in the war or not. Do you follow very clearly?
It is then the interest of the enemies of this potentate to secure and
publish this letter, so as to make a breach between his country and ours,
Yes, sir, And to whom would this document be sent if it
fell into the hands of an enemy, to any of the great chancellories of
Europe. It is probably speeding on its way thither. At the present instant,
as fast as steam can take it. Mister Trelawney. Hope dropped his
head on his chest and groaned aloud. The premiere placed his hand kindly upon
his shoulder. It is your misfortune, my dear Fedo. No one can
blain you. There is no precaution which you have neglected. Now, mister
Holmes, you are in full possession of the facts. What course do you
recommend? Holmes shook his head mournfully. You think, sir, that unless
this document is recovered, there will be war? I think it is very
probable, then, sir, prepare for war. That is a hard saying,
mister Holmes. Consider the fact, sir. It is inconceivable that it
was taken after eleven thirty at night, since I understand that mister Hope and
his wife were both in the room from that hour until the loss was found
out. It was taken then yesterday evening between seven thirty and eleven thirty,
probably near the earlier hour. Since whoever took it evidently knew that it was
there, it would naturally secure it as early as possible. Now, sir,
if a document of this importance were taken at that hour, where can
it be now? No one has any reason to retain it. It has
been passed rapidly on to those who need it. What chance have we now
to overtake it, or even to trace it? It is beyond our reach.
The Prime Minister rose from the city. What you say is perfectly logical,
mister Holmes, I feel that the matter is indeed out of our hands.
Let us presume, for argument's sake, that the document was taken by
the maid or by the valet. They are both old and tried servants.
I understand you to say that your room is on the second floor, that
there is no entrance from without, and that from within no one could go
up unobserved. It must then be somebody in the house who has taken it.
To whom would the thief take it to? One of several international spies
and secret agents whose names are tolerably familiar to me. There are three who
may be said to be the heads of their profession. I will begin my
research by going round and finding if each of them is at his post.
If one is missing, especially if he has disappeared since last night, we
will have some indication as to where the document has gone. Why should he
be missing? Asked the European Secretary. He would take the letter to an
embassy in London as likely as not. I fancy not. These agents work
independently and their relations with the embassies are often strained. The Prime Minister nodded
his acquiescence. I believe you are right, mister Holmes. He would take
so valuable a prize to headquarters with his own hands. I think that your
course of action is an excellent one. Meanwhile, hope we cannot neglect all
our other duties on account of this one misfortune. Should there be any fresh
developments during the day, we shall communicate with you, and you will know.
Nowt let us know the results of your own inquiries. The two statesmen
bowed and walked gravely from the room. When our illustrious visitors had departed,
Holmes lit his pipe in silence and sat for some time, lost in the
deepest thought. I had opened the morning paper and was immersed in a sensational
crime which occurred in London the night before. When my friend gave an exclamation,
sprang to his feet and laid his pipe down upon the mantelpiece. Yes,
said he, there is no better way of approaching it. The situation
is desperate, but not hopeless. Even now, if we could be sh
which of them has taken it? It is just possible that is not yet
passed out of his hands. After all, it is a question of money
with these fellows, and I have the British Treasury behind me. If it's
on the market, I'll buy it. If he means another penny on the
income tax, it is conceivable that fellow might hold it back to see what
bids come from this side before he tries his luck on the other. There
are only those three capable of playing so bold a game. There are oberlstein
are off Their and Eduardo Lucas. I was see each of them. I
glanced at my morning paper. Is that uh, Eduardo Lucas of Goudofin Street.
Yes, now you will not see him. Why not? He was
murdered in his house last night. My friend has so often astonished me in
the course of our adventures that it was a sense of exultation that I realized
how completely I had astonished him, He said, stared in amazement, and
then snatched the paper from my hands. This was the paragraph which I been
engaged in reading when he rose from his chair. Murder in Westminster a crime
of mysterious character was committed last night at sixteen Godolphin Street, one of the
old fashioned and secluded rows of eighteenth century houses which lie between the river and
the abbey, almost in the shadow of the Great Tower of the Houses of
Parliament. This small but select mansion has been inhabited for some years by mister
Eduardo Lucas, well known in society's circles, both on account of his charming
personality and because he has the well deserved reputation of being one of the best
amateur tenors in the country. Mister Lucas is an unmarried man thirty four years
of age, and his establishment consists of missus Pringle, an elderly housekeeper,
and of Mitton, his valet. The former retires early and sleeps at the
top of the house. The valet was out for the evening, visiting a
friend at Hammersmith ten o'clock onward, mister Lucas had the house to himself.
What occurred during that time has not yet transpired, but at a quarter to
twelve police Constable Barret, passing along Godolphin Street observed that the door of number
sixteen was ajar. He knocked, but received no answer. Perceiving a light
in the front room, he advanced into the passage and again knocked, but
without reply. He then pushed open the door and entered. The room was
in a state of wild disorder, the furniture being all swept to one side,
and one chair lying on its back in the center. Beside this chair,
and still grasping one of its legs, lay the unfortunate tenant of the
house. He had been stabbed to the heart and must have died instantly.
The knife with which the crime being committed was a curved Indian dagger, plucked
down from a trophy of oriental arms which adorned one of the walls. Robbery
does not appear to have been the motive of the crime, for there had
been no attempt to remove the valuable contents of the room. Mister Eduardo Lucas
was so well known and popular that his violent and mysterious fate will arouse painful
interest and intense sympathy in a widespread circle of friends. Well, Watson,
what do you make of this? Asked Holmes, after a long pause.
It is an amazing coincidence. Her coincidence here is one of the three men
whom we have named as possible actors in this drama, and he meets a
violent death during the very hours when we know that this drama was being enacted.
The odds are enormous against its being coincidence. No figures could express them.
No, my dear Watson, the two events are connected, must be
connected. It is for us to find the connection. But now the official
police must know all, No, not at all, They know all they
see at Godolphin Street, they know and shall know nothing of Whitehalled Heras only
we know of both events and contrace the relation between them. There is one
obvious point which would in any case of term my suspicions against Lucas. Godolphin
Street, Westminster, is only a few minutes walk from Whitehall Terrace. The
other secret agents whom I have named, live in the extreme west end.
It was easier therefore, for Lucas than for the others to establish a connection
or receive a message from the European Secretary's household. A small thing, and
yet where events are compressed into a few hours, it may prove essential.
Helloa, what have we here? Missus Hudson had appeared with a lady's card
upon her Salver Holmes glanced at it raised his eyebrows and handed it over to
me. Ask Lady Hilda Trelawney, hope if she will be kind enough to
step up, said he A moment later. Our modest apartment, already so
distinguished that morning, was further honored by the entrance of the most lovely woman
in London. I had often heard of the beauty of the youngest daughter of
the Duke of Bellminster, but no description of it, and no contum plation
of colorless photographs had prepared me for the subtle, delicate charm and the beautiful
coloring of that exquisite head. And yet as we saw it that autumn morning,
it was not its beauty which would be the first thing to impress the
observer. The cheek was lovely, but it was paled with emotion. The
eyes were bright, but it was the brightness of fever. The sensitive mouth
was tight and drawn in an effort after self command. Terror, not beauty,
was what sprang first to the eye as our fair visitor stood frame for
an instant in the open door. Has my husband been here, mister Holmes,
Yes, madam, he has been here. Mister Holmes. I implore
you not to tell him that I came here. Holmes bowed coldly and motioned
the lady to a chair. Your ladyship places me in a very delicate position.
I beg that you will sit down and tell me what you desire,
but I fear that I cannot make any unconditional promise. She swept across the
room and seated herself with her back to the window. It was a queenly
presence, tall, graceful, and intensely womanly. Mister Holmes, she said,
and her white glove's hands clasped and unclasped as she spoke. I must
speak frankly to you in the hope that it may induce you to speak frankly
to me in return. There is complete confidence between my husband and me,
and all matters save one that one is politics. On this his lips are
sealed. He tells me nothing. Now. I am aware that there was
a most deplorable occurrence in our house last night. I know that a paper
has disappeared, But because the matter is political, my husband refuses to take
me into his complete confidence. Now it is essential, essential, I say
that I should thoroughly understand it. You are the only other person, save
only these politicians who knows the true facts. I beg you, then,
mister Holmes, to tell me exactly what has happened and what it will lead
to tell me all, mister Holmes, let no regard for your client's interests
keep you silence, for I assure you that his interests, if you would
only see it, well be best served by taking me into his complete confidence.
What was this paper which was stolen? Madam? What you asked me
is really impossible. She groaned and sank her face in her hands. You
must see that this is so, madam. If your husband thinks fit to
keep you in the dark over this matter, is it for me, who
has only learned the true facts under the pledge of professional secrecy, to tell
what he is withheld? It is not fair to ask it. It is
him whom you must ask. I have asked him. I come to you
as a last resource, but without your telling me anything definite. Mister Holmes,
you may do a great service if you would inlighten me on one point.
What is it, madam? Is my husband's political career likely to suffer
through this incident? Well, madam. Unless it is set right, it
may certainly have a very unfortunate effect. Ah she drew in her breath sharply,
as one whose doubts are resolved. One more question, mister Holmes,
from an expression which my husband dropped in the first shock of this disaster,
I understand that terrible public consequences might arise from the loss of this document.
If he said so, I certainly cannot deny it. Of what nature are
they? Nay, Madam, there again you ask me more than I can
possibly answer. Then I will take up no more of your time. I
cannot blame you, mister Holmes, for having refused to speak more freely,
and you, on your side, will not, I am sure think the
worst of me, because I desire, even against his will, to share
my husband's answer. Once more, I beg that you will say nothing of
my visit. She looked back at us from the door, and I had
a last impression of that beautiful, haunted face, the startled eyes, then
the draw mouth. Then she was gone. Now, Watson, the fair
Sex is your department, said Holmes with a smile, when the dwindling throofrew
of skirts had ended in the slam at the front door. What was the
fair lady's game? What did she really want? Surely her own statement is
clear, and her anxiety very natural. Humph. Think of her appearance,
Watson, and her manner, her suppressed excitement, he now restlessness, her
tenacity in asking questions. Remember that she comes of a caste who do not
likely show emotion. She was certainly much moved. Remember was the curious earnestness
with which she assured us that it was best for her husband that she should
know all. What did she mean by that? And you must to have
observed, Watson, how she maneuvered to have the light at her back.
She did not wish us to read her expression. Yes, she she chose
the only chair in the room and getting the maatives of women are so inscrutable.
You remember the woman at Margate whom I suspected for the same reason no
powder on her nose. That proved to be the correct solution. How can
you build on such a quicksand their most trivial action may mean volumes, or
their most extraordinary conduct made upon a hairpin or curling tongs. Good morning,
Watson, you're off? Yes, I will a while away the morning at
Goudopin Street with our friends of the regular Establishment, with Eduardo Lucas. Lies
the solution of our problem, though I must admit that I have not an
inkling as to what form it may take. It is a capital mistake to
theorize in advance of the facts. Do you stay on guard, my good
Watson, and receive any fresh visitors. I'll join you at lunch if I
am able. All that day and the next and the next Holmes was in
a mood which his friends would call taciturn and others morose. He ran out
and ran in, smoked, incessantly played snatches on his violins, sank into
reveries, devarred sandwidges at irregular hours, and hardly answered the casual questions which
I put to him. It was evident to me that things were not going
well with him or his quest. He would say nothing of the case,
and it was from the papers that I learned the particulars of the inquest and
the arrests. With the subsequent release of John Mitton, the valet of the
deceased, the coroner's jury brought in the obvious wilful murder, but the parties
remained as unknown. As ever, no motive was suggested. The room was
full of articles of value, but none had been taken. The dead man's
papers had not been tampered with. They were carefully examined and showed that he
was a keen student of international politics, an interfatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist,
and an entiring letter writer. He had been on intimate terms with the
leading politicians of several countries, but nothing sensational was discovered among the documents which
filled his drawers. As to his relations with women, they appeared to have
been promiscuous but superficial. He had many acquaintances among them, but few friends,
and no one whom he loved. His habits were regular, his conduct
inoffensive. His death was an absolute mystery and likely to remain so. As
to the arrest of John mitton the valet, it was a council of despair
as an alternative to absolute inaction, but no case could be sustained against him.
He had visited friends in Hammersmith that night. The alibi was complete.
It is true that he started home at an hour which should have brought him
to Westminster before the time when the crime was discovered, but his own explanation
that he had walked part of the way seemed probable enough in view of the
fineness of the night. He had actually arrived at twelve o'clock and appeared to
be overwhelmed by the unexpected tragedy. He had always been on good terms with
his master. Several of the dead man's possessions, notably a small case of
razors, had been found in the valet's boxes, but he explained that they
had been presents from the deceased, and the housekeeper was able to corroborate the
story. Mitten had been in Lucas's employment for three years. It was noticeable
that Lucas did not take Mitton on the content with him. Sometimes he visited
Paris for three months on end, but Mitton was left in charge of the
Godolphin Street house. As to the housekeeper, she had heard nothing on the
night of the crime. If her master had a visitor, he had himself
admitted him. So for three mornings the mystery remained so far as I could
follow it in the papers. If Holmes knew more, he kept his own
counsel. But since he told me that Inspector Lestrade take him into his confidence
in the case, I knew that he was in close touch with every development.
Upon the fourth day there appeared a long telegram from Paris which seemed to
solve the whole question. A discovery had just been made by the Parisian police,
said the Daily Telegraph, which raises the veil which hung round the tragic
fate of mister Eduardo Lucas, who met his death by violence last Monday night
at Godolphin Street, Westminster. Our readers will remember that the deceased gentleman was
found stabbed in his room, and that some suspicion attached to his valet,
but that the case broke down on an alibi. Yesterday, a lady who
has been known as Madame Auri Fourney, occupying a small villa in the Rue
Austerlitz, was reported to the authorities by her servants as being insane. An
examination showed she had indeed developed mania of a dangerous and per permanent form.
On inquiry, the Piece of discovered that Madame Auurri fournee only returned from a
journey to life London on Tuesday last and there is evidence to connect her with
the crime at Westminster. A comparison of photographs has proved conclusively that Monsieur Ornifornee
and Edeodo Luccas were really one and the same person, and that the deceased
had for some reason lived a double life in London and Paris. Madame Fournee,
who is of Creole origin, is of an extremely excitable nature, and
has suffered in the past from attacks of jealousy which have amounted to frenzy.
It is conjectured that it was in one of these that she committed the terrible
crime which has caused such a sensation in London. Her movements upon the Monday
night have not yet been traced, but it is undoubted that a woman answering
to her description attracted much attention at Charing Cross station on Tuesday morning by the
wildness of her appearance and the violence of her gestures. It is probable,
therefore, that the crime was either committed when insane, or that its immediate
effect was to drive the unhappy woman out of her mind. At present,
she is unable to give any care here on account of the past, and
the doctors hold out no hopes of the re establishment of her reason. There
is it, ever, evidence that a woman who might have been Madame Fourney
was seen for some hours upon Monday night watching the house in Goernolphin Street.
What do you think of that? Holmes? I read the account aloud to
him, when he finished his breakfast. My dear Watson, said he as
he rose from the table and paced up and down the room. You are
most long suffering. But if I have told you nothing in the last three
days, it is because there is nothing to tell. Even now. This
report from Paris does not help us much. Surely it is final as regards
the man's death. The man's death is a mere incident of a trivial episode
in comparison with our real task, which is to trace this document and saving
European catastrophe. Only one important thing has happened in the last three days,
and that is that nothing has happened. I get reports al miss ardy from
the government, and it is certain that nowhere in Europe is there any sign
of trouble. Now, if this letter were loose, no it can't be
loose. But if it isn't loose, where can it be? Who has
it? Why is it held back? That's the question that beats in my
brain like a hammer. Was it indeed a coincident that Lucas should meet his
death on the night when the letter disappeared? Did the letter ever reach him?
If so, why is it not among his papers? Did this mad
wife of his carry it off with her. If so is it in her
house in Paris, how could I search for it without the French police having
their suspicions arouse. It is a case, my dear Watson, where the
law is as dangerous to us as the criminals are. Every man's hand is
against us, and yet the interests at stake are colossal. Should I bring
it to a successful conclusion, it will certainly represent the crowning lorry of my
career. Ah here is my latest from the front. Held danced hurriedly at
the note which had been handed in Helloa, Lestrade seemed to have observed something
of interest. Put on your hat, Watson, and we will stroll down
together to Westminster. It was my first visit to the scene of the crime.
A high, dingy, narrow chested house, prim formal and solid,
like the sentry which gave it birth. Lestrade's bulldog features gazed out at us
from the front window, and he greeted us warmly when a big constable had
opened the door and let us in. The room into which we were shown
was that in which the crime had been committed, but no trace of it
now remained, save an ugly irregular stain upon the carpet. This carpet was
a small square druget in the center of the room, surrounded by a broad
expanse of beautiful old fashioned wood flooring in square blocks, highly polished. Over
the fireplace was a magnificent trophy of weapons, one of which had been used
on that tragic night. In the window was a sumptuous writing desk, and
every detail of the apartment, the pitchers, the rugs, and the hangings
all pointed to a taste which was luxurious to the verge of effeminacy seen.
The Paris News asked the Strarde, Holmes nodded. Our French friends seemed to
have touched the spot this time, no doubt, it's just as they say.
She knocked at the door, surprised visit, I guess, for he
kept his life in watertight compartments. He let her in, couldn't keep her
in the street. She told him how she had traced him, reproached him.
One thing led to another, and then with that dagger so hand in
the end soon came. It wasn't all done in an instant, though,
for these chairs were all swept over yonder, and he had one in his
hand, as if he had tried to hold her off with it. We
got it all clear as if we had seen it. Holmes raised his eyebrows.
And yet you have sent for me. Ah, yes, that's another
matter, a mere trifle, but the sort of thing you'd take an interest
in queer, you know, and what you might call for freakish. It's
nothing to do with the main fact. Can't have on the face of it.
What is it? Then? Well, you know, after a crime
of this sort, we are very careful to keep things in their possession.
Nothing has been moved Officer in charge here day and night, this morning as
the man was buried. In the investigation over so far as this room is
concerned, we thought we could tidy up a bit. This carpet, you
see, it's not fastened down, and it just laid there. We had
occasion to raise it. We found, yes, you found. Hemes's face
grew tense with anxiety. I'm sure you would never guess in a hundred years
what we did find. You see that stain on the carpet. What a
great deal must have soaked through, must it not? Undoubtedly it must.
Well, he was surprised to hear that there is no stain on the white
woodwork to correspond. No stain, But there must n yes, so you
would say. But the fact remained that there isn't. He took the corner
of the carpet in his hand, and turning it over, he showed us
that it was indeed as he said. But the underside is as stained as
the upper. It must have left a mark. Lestrade chuckled with delight at
having puzzled the famous expert. Now I'll show you the explanation. There is
a second stain, but it does not correspond with the other. See for
yourself. As he spoke, he turned over another portion of the carpet,
and there, sure enough was a great crimson spill upon the square white facing
of the old fashioned floor. What do you make of that, mister Olmes?
Oh? Why, it is simple enough that two stains did correspond.
But the carpet has been turned round. As it was square and unfastened,
it was easily done. The official police don't need you, mister Holmes,
to tell them that the carpet must have been turned round. That's clear enough,
for the stains lie above each other if you lay it over this way.
What I want to know is who shift the carpet, and why I
could see from Holmes's rigid face that he was vibrating with inward excitement. Look
here, Lestrade said, he has that confortable in the passage, been in
charge of the place all the time. Yes, he has. Well take
my advice. Examine him carefully. Don't do before us. We'll wait here.
You take him into the back room. You'll be more likely to get
a confession out of him alone. Ask him how he dared to admit people
and leave them alone in this room. Don't ask him if he has done
it, take it for granted. Tell him you know some one has been
here. Press him, Tell him that a full confession is his only chance
of forgiveness. To exactly what I tell you, by George. If he
knows, I'll have it out of him, cried Lestrade. He darted into
the hall, and a few moments later, his bullying voice sounded from the
back room. Now Watson now cried Holmes, with frenzied eagerness. All the
demoniacal force of the man masked behind that listless manner burst out in a paroxysm
energy. He tore the drugget from the floor, and in an instant was
down on his hands and knees, throwing at each of the squares of wood
beneath it. One turned sideways. As he dug his nails into the edge
of it, it hinged back like the lid of a box. A small
black cavity opened beneath it. Holmes plunged his eager hand into it and drew
it out with a bitter snarl of anger and disappointment. It was empty.
Quick, Watson, quick, get it back again. The wooden lid was
replaced, and the drug it had only just been drawn straight when Estrade's voice
was heard in the passage. He found Holmes leaning languidly against the mantelpiece,
resigned and patient, endeavoring to conceal his irrepressible yawns. Sorry to keep you
waiting, mister Holmes, I can see that you're bored to death with the
whole affair. Well, he has conversed. All right, come in here,
Macpherson. Let these gentlemen hear of your most inexcusable conduct. The big
Constable, very hot and penitent, sidled into the room. I met no
arm, sir. I'm sure the young woman came into the door last evening
mistook the house. She did, and then we got talking. It's lonesome
when you're on duty here all day. Well what happened? Then? She
wanted to see where the crime was done and read about it in the papers,
she said. She was a very respectable, well spoken young woman,
sir, and I saw no army letting ever peep. When she saw that
mark on the carpet down, she dropped on the floor and lay as if
she were dead. I ran to the back and got some water. I
couldn't bring her too. Then I went round the corner to the ivy plant
for some brandy. But the time I brought it back, the young woman
who covered and was off shamed of herself. I dare say, and dare
not face me? How about moving that drug? It? Well, sir,
it was a bit rumpled certainly when I came back. You see,
she fell on it and it lies on a polished floor with nothing to keep
it in place. I straightened it out afterwards. It's a lesson to you
that you can't deceive me, Counsel Macpherson said, Lestrade, with dignity,
no doubt, you thought that your breach of duty could never we discovered yet
a mere glance at that drug. It was enough to convince me that someone
had been admitted to the room. It's lucky for you, my man,
that nothing is missing, or you would find yourself in Queer Street. I'm
sorry to have to call you down over such a petty business, mister Olmes,
but I thought the point of the second stain, not corresponding with the
first, would interest you, certainly. It was most interesting. Has this
woman only been here once? Constable? Oh, yes, sir, any
once? Who was she? I don't know the name, Sir. Was
answering an adrasisment about typewriting and came to the wrong number. Very pleasant,
genteel young woman, sir. Tall handsome, Yes, sir, she was
a well grown young woman. I suppose you might say she was handsome.
Perhaps some would say she was very handsome. How, officer, do let
me have a peep? Says she. She had pretty coaxing ways, as
you might say, And I thought there was no arm in letting her just
put her head through the door. How was she dressed? Quiet, sir?
A long mantled down to her feet. What time was it? He
was just growing dusk at the time. They were lighting the lamps as I
came back with the brandy, HM many good, said Holmes. Come,
Onson, I think that we have more important work elsewhere. As we left
the house, Lestrade remained in the front room while the repentant Constable opened the
door to let us out. Holmes turned on the step and held up something
in his hand. The Constable stared intently. Good Lord, sir, he
cried, with amazement on his face. Holmes put his finger on his lips,
replaced his hand in his breast pocket, and burst out laughing. As
we turned down the street, excellent, said he. Come, friend Watson,
the curtain rings up for the last act. You will be relieved to
hear that there will be no war, that the right Honorable Trattorney Hope will
suffer no set back in his brillined career, that the indiscreet Sovereign will receive
no punishment for his indiscretion, That the Prime Minister will have no European complication
to you'll do with and that with a little tact and management upon our part,
nobody will be a penny the worse for what might have been a very
ugly incident. My mind filled with admiration for this extraordinary man you have solved
it. I cried hardly that Watson, there are some points which are as
dark as ever. But we have so much that it will be our own
fault. We cannot get the rest. We will go straight to Whitehall Terrace
and bring the matter to a head. When we arrived at the residence of
the European Secretary, it was for lady Hilda Trelawny Hope that Sherlock Holmes inquired.
We were shown into the morning room, mister Holmes said the lady,
and her face was pink with her indignation. This is surely most unfair and
ungenerous upon your part. I desired, as I have explained, to keep
my visit to you a secret, lest my husband should think that I was
intruding into his affairs. And yet you compromise me by coming here and so
showing that there are business relations between us. Rutunately, Madam, I had
no possible alternative. I have been commissioned to recover this immensely important paper.
I must therefore ask you, Madam, to be kind enough to place it
in my hands. The lady sprang to her feet, with the color all
dashed in an instant from her beautiful face. Her eyes glazed, she tottered.
I thought that she would faint. Then with a grand effort, she
rad it from the shock, and as whose supreme astonishment and indignation chased every
other expression from her features. You you insult me, mister Holmes. Come
come, madam. It is useless. Give up the letter. She darted
to the bell. The butler shall show you out. Do not ring,
Lady Hilda. If you do, then all my earnest efforts to avoid a
scandal will be frustrated. Give up the letter and all will be set right.
If you will work with me, I can arrange everything. If you
work against me, I must expose you. She stood grandly defiant, a
queenly figure, her eyes fixed up upon his, as if she she would
read his very soul. Her hand was on the bell, but she had
forborne to ring it. You are trying to frighten me. It is not
a very manly thing, mister Holmes, to come here and browbeat a woman.
You say that you know something. What is it that you know?
Praise it down, madam. You will hurt yourself there if you fall.
I will not speak until you sit down. Thank you. I give you
five minutes mister Holmes, one is enough. Lady Hilda. I know of
your visit to Eduardo Lucas, of your giving him this document, of your
ingenious return to the room last night, and of the manner in which you
took the letter from the hiding place under the carpet. She stared at him
with an ashen face and gulped twice before she could speak. You are mad,
mister Holmes, You are mad, she cried. At last, he
drew a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. It was the face of
a woman cut out of a portrait. I have carried this because I thought
might be useful, said he. The policeman has recognized it. She gave
a gasp and her head dropped back in the chair. Come, lady Hilda,
you have the letter. The matter may still be adjusted. I have
no desire to bring trouble to you. My duty ends when I have returned
the lost letter to your husband. Take my advice and be frank with me.
It is your only chance. Her courage was admirable. Even now.
She would not own defeat. I tell you, again, mister Holmes,
that you are under some absurd illusion. Holmes rose from his chair. I
am sorry. I for you, Lady Hilda, I have done my best
for you. I can see that it is all in vain. He rang
the bell. The butler entered, Is mister Trelawney hope at home? You
be home, sir? At a quarter to one. Holmes glanced at his
watch, still a quarter of an hour, said he very good, I
shall wait. The butler had hardly closed the door behind me when Lady Hilt
was down on her knees at Holmes's feet, her hands outstretched, her beautiful
face upturned and wet with her tears. Oh spare me, is mister Holmes,
spare me, she pleaded, in a frenzy of supplication. For Heaven's
sake, don't tell him I love him so I would not bring one shadow
on his life, and this I know would break his noble heart. Holmes
raised the lady. I'm thankful, madam, that you've come to your senses.
Even at this last moment. There's not an instant to lose. Where
is the letter? She darted across to a writing desk, unlocked it,
and drew out a long blue envelope. Here it is, mister Holmes,
would heaven, I'd never seen it? How can we return it, Holmes
buttered, quick quickly, we must think of some way. Where is the
despatch box still in his bedroom? What a stroke of luck? Quick,
madam, bring it here. A moment later, she had appeared with a
red flat box in her hand. How did you open it before? You
have a duplicate key? Yes, of course you have open it. From
out of her bosom, Lady Hilda had drawn a small key. The box
flew open. It was stuffed with papers. Holmes thrust the blue envelope deep
down into the heart of them, between the leaves of some other document.
The box was shut, locked and returned to the bedroom. Now we are
ready for him, said Holmes. We have still ten minutes. I am
going far to screen you, Lady Hilda. In return, you will spend
the time in telling me, frankly, the real meaning of this extraordinary affair.
Mister Holmes, I will tell you everything, cried the lady. Oh,
mister Holmes, I would cut off my right hand before I gave him
a moment of sorrow. There is no woman in all London who loves my
husband, and eyes do. And yet if he knew how I had acted,
how I have been compelled to act he would never forgive me, for
his own honor stands so high that he could not forget or pardoner lapse in
another. Help me, mister Holmes, my happiness, his happiness, Our
very lives are at stake quick matter, and the time grows shot. It
was a letter of mine, mister Holmes, an indiscreet letter written before my
marriage, A foolish letter, a letter of an impulsive loving Ghala. I
meant no harm, and yet he would have thought it criminal. Had he
read that letter, his confidence would have been forever destroyed. It is years
since I wrote it. I had thought that the whole matter was forgotten.
Then at last I heard from this man Lucas, that it had passed into
his hands, and that he would lay before my husband. I implored his
mercy. He said that he would return my letter if I would bring him
a certain document, which he described in my husband's dispatch box. He had
some spy in the office who had told him of his existence. He assured
me that no harm could come to my husband. Put yourself in my position,
mister Holmes. What was I to do? Take your husband into your
confidence? I could not, mister Holmes, I could not. On the
one side seemed certain ruin on the other terrible, as it seemed to take
my husband's paper. Still, in a matter of politics, I could not
understand the consequences, while on a matter of love and trust they were only
too clear to me. I did it, mister Holmes. I took an
impression of his key. This man Lucas furnished a duplicate, opened his dispatch
box, took the paper and conveyed it to Gondolphin Street. What happened there,
Madam? I tapped at the doors. Agreed, Lucas opened it.
I followed him into his room, leaving the hall door a jar behind me,
for I feared to be alone with the man. I remember that there
was a woman outside as I entered. Our business was soon done. He
had my letter on his desk. I handed him the document. He gave
me the letter. At this instant there was a sound of the door.
There were steps in the passage. Lucas quickly turned back the druge. It
thrust the document into some hiding place there and covered it over. What happened
after that is like some fearful dream. I have a vision of a dark,
frantic face, of a woman's voice, which screamed in French. My
waiting is not in vain. At last, at last, I have found
you with her. There was a savage struggler. I saw him with a
chair in his hand. A knife gleamed in hers. I rushed from the
horrible scene, ran from the house, and only next morning in the paper
did I learn the dreadful result. That night, I was happy, for
I had my letter, and I had not seen yet what the future would
bring. It was the next morning that I realized that I'd only exchanged one
trouble for another. My husband's anguish at the loss of his paper went to
my heart. I could hardly prevent myself from there and then kneeling down at
his feet and telling him what I had done. But that again would mean
a confession of the past. I came to you that morning in order to
understand the full enormity of my fence. From the instant that I grasped it,
my whole mind was turned to the one thought of getting back my husband's
pace. It must still be where Lucas had placed it, for it was
concealed before this dreadful woman entered the room. If it had not been for
her coming, I should not have known where his hiding place was. How
was I to get into the room. For two days I watched the place,
but the door was never left open. Last night I made a last
attempt. What I did and how I succeeded, you have already learned.
I brought the paper back from me and thought of destroying it, since I
could see no way of returning it without confessing my guilt to my husband.
And I hear his step upon the stair. The Eupian secretary burst excitedly into
the room. Any news, mister Holmes, Any news, he cried,
I have some hopes, I think heaven. His face became radiant. The
Prime Minister is lunching with me. May he share your hopes? He has
nerves of steel, and yet I know that he has hardly slept since this
terrible event. Jacobs, what do you ask the Prime Minister to come up?
As to you? Dear? I fear that this is a matter of
politics. We'll join you in a few minutes. In the dining room,
the Prime Minister's manner was subdued, but I could see, by the gleam
of his eyes and the twitchings of his bony hands that he shared the excitement
of his young colleague. I understand that you have something to report, mister
Holmes, A purely negative as yet, my friend answered. I have inquired
at every point where it might be, and I am sure that there is
no danger to be apprehended. But that is not enough, mister Holmes.
We cannot live forever on such a volcano. We must have something definite.
I am in hopes of getting it. That is why I am here.
The more I think of the matter, the more convinced I am that the
letter has never left this house, mister Holmes. If it had, it
would certainly have been public by now. But why should anyone take it in
order to keep it in this house? I am not convinced that anybody did
take it. Then how could it leave the dispatch box? I am not
convinced that it ever did leave the despatch box. Mister Holmes. Is joking
is very old timed. You have my assurance that it left the box.
Have you examined the box since Tuesday morning? No, it was not necessary.
You may conceivably have overlooked it. Impossible, I say, but I
am not convinced of it. I have known such things to happen. I
presume there are other papers there when it pay have got mixed with them.
It was on the top. Someone may have shaken the box and displaced it.
No, no, I had everything out. Oh surely it is easily
decided, Hope, said the Premiere. Let us have the despatch box brought
in. The secretary round the bell, Jacobs, bring down my dispatch box.
This is a fascical waste of time. But still, if nothing else
will satisfy you, it shall be done. Thank you, Jacobs. Put
it here. I've always had the key on my watch chain. Here are
the papers you see. Letters from Lord Merrow, report from Sir Charles Hardy,
memorandum from Belgrade, note on the Russo German grain taxes, letter from
Madrid, note from Lord good Heaven. What is this, Lord Blacher,
Lord Bleacher. The Premier snatched the blue envelope from his hand. Yes,
it is it, and the letter is intact. Hope. I congratulate you,
oh, thank you, thank you. What I wait from my heart?
But this is inconceivable, impossible. Mister Holmes, you are a wizard,
a sorcerer. How did you know it was there? Because I knew
it was nowhere else. I cannot believe my eyes. He ran wildly to
the door. Where's my wife? I must tell her that all is well.
Hilda, Hilda. We heard his voice on the stairs. The Premier
looked at Holmes with twinkling eyes. It come, sir, said he.
There is more in this than meets the eye. How came the letter back
in the box? Holmes turned away, smiling from the keen scrutiny of those
wonderful eyes. We also have our diplomatic secrets, said he, and picking
up his hat, he turned to the door. End of the Adventure of
the Second Stain