could be reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked round

  it and examined it closely from every point of view, but without

  noting anything else of interest.

  "I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that

  there was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the

  garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses,

  and received in exchange twopence, a glass of half and half, two

  fills of shag tobacco, and as much information as I could desire

  about Miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen other people in

  the neighborhood in whom I was not in the least interested, but

  whose biographies I was compelled to listen to."

  "And what of Irene Adler?" I asked.

  "Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in that part. She is

  the daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the

  Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts,

  drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for

  dinner. Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings.

  Has only one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark,

  handsome, and dashing, never calls less than once a day, and

  often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey Norton, of the Inner Temple. See

  the advantages of a cabman as a confidant. They had driven him

  home a dozen times from Serpentine-mews, and knew all about him.

  When I had listened to all they had to tell, I began to walk up

  and down near Briony Lodge once more, and to think over my plan

  of campaign.

  "This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the

  matter. He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the

  relation between them, and what the object of his repeated

  visits? Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the

  former, she had probably transferred the photograph to his

  keeping. If the latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this

  question depended whether I should continue my work at Briony

  Lodge, or turn my attention to the gentleman's chambers in the

  Temple. It was a delicate point. and it widened the field of my

  inquiry. I fear that I bore you with these details, but I have to

  let you see my little difficulties, if you are to understand the

  situation."

  "I am following you closely," I answered.

  "I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom cab

  drove up to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a

  remarkably handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached--

  evidently the man of whom I had heard. He appeared to be in a

  great hurry, shouted to the cabman to wait, and brushed past the

  maid who opened the door with the air of a man who was thoroughly

  at home.

  "He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch

  glimpses of him in the windows of the sitting-room, pacing up and

  down, talking excitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I could see

  nothing. Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried than

  before. As he stepped up to the cab, he pulled a gold watch from

  his pocket and looked at it earnestly, 'Drive like the devil,' he

  shouted, 'first to Gross & Hankey's in Regent Street, and then to

  the Church of St. Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if

  you do it in twenty minutes!'

  "Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should not do

  well to follow them when up the lane came a neat little landau,

  the coachman with his coat only half-buttoned, and his tie under

  his ear, while all the tags of his harness were sticking out of

  the buckles. It hadn't pulled up before she shot out of the hall

  door and into it. I only caught a glimpse of her at the moment,

  but she was a lovely woman, with a face that a man might die for.

  "'The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried, 'and half a

  sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.'

  "This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing

  whether I should run for it, or whether I should perch behind her

  landau when a cab came through the street. The driver looked

  twice at such a shabby fare, but I jumped in before he could

  object. 'The Church of St. Monica,' said I, 'and half a sovereign

  if you reach it in twenty minutes.' It was twenty-five minutes to

  twelve, and of course it was clear enough what was in the wind.

  "My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove faster, but the

  others were there before us. The cab and the landau with their

  steaming horses were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid

  the man and hurried into the church. There was not a soul there

  save the two whom I had followed and a surprised clergyman, who

  seemed to be expostulating with them. They were all three

  standing in a knot in front of the altar. I lounged up the side

  aisle like any other idler who has dropped into a church.

  Suddenly, to my surprise, the three at the altar faced round to

  me, and Godfrey Norton came running as hard as he could towards

  me.

  "Thank God," he cried. "You'll do. Come! Come!"

  "What then?" I asked.

  "Come, man, come, only three minutes, or it won't be legal."

  I was half-dragged up to the altar, and before I knew where I was

  I found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in my ear.

  and vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and generally

  assisting in the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster, to

  Godfrey Norton, bachelor. It was all done in an instant, and

  there was the gentleman thanking me on the one side and the lady

  on the other, while the clergyman beamed on me in front. It was

  the most preposterous position in which I ever found myself in my

  life, and it was the thought of it that started me laughing just

  now. It seems that there had been some informality about their

  license, that the clergyman absolutely refused to marry them

  without a witness of some sort, and that my lucky appearance

  saved the bridegroom from having to sally out into the streets in

  search of a best man. The bride gave me a sovereign, and I mean

  to wear it on my watch-chain in memory of the occasion."

  "This is a very unexpected turn of affairs," said I; "and what

  then?"

  "Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if

  the pair might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate

  very prompt and energetic measures on my part. At the church

  door, however, they separated, he driving back to the Temple, and

  she to her own house. 'I shall drive out in the park at five as

  usual,' she said as she left him. I heard no more. They drove

  away in different directions, and I went off to make my own

  arrangements."

  "Which are?"

  "Some cold beef and a glass of beer," he answered, ringing the

  bell. "I have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to

  be busier still this evening. By the way, Doctor, I shall want

  your cooperation."

  "I shall be delighted."

  "You don't mind breaking the law?"

  "Not in the least."

  "Nor running a chance of arrest?"

  "Not in a good cause."

/>   "Oh, the cause is excellent!"

  "Then I am your man."

  "I was sure that I might rely on you."

  "But what is it you wish?"

  "When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear to

  you. Now," he said as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that

  our landlady had provided, "I must discuss it while I eat, for I

  have not much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we must

  be on the scene of action. Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returns

  from her drive at seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to meet her."

  "And what then?"

  "You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to

  occur. There is only one point on which I must insist. You must

  not interfere, come what may. You understand?"

  "I am to be neutral?"

  "To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some small

  unpleasantness. Do not join in it. It will end in my being

  conveyed into the house. Four or five minutes afterwards the

  sitting-room window will open. You are to station yourself close

  to that open window."

  "Yes."

  "You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you."

  "Yes."

  "And when I raise my hand--so--you will throw into the room what

  I give you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry of

  fire. You quite follow me?"

  "Entirely."

  "It is nothing very formidable," he said, taking a long cigar-

  shaped roll from his pocket. "It is an ordinary plumber's smoke-

  rocket, fitted with a cap at either end to make it self-lighting.

  Your task is confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire,

  it will be taken up by quite a number of people. You may then

  walk to the end of the street, and I will rejoin you in ten

  minutes. I hope that I have made myself clear?"

  "I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you,

  and at the signal to throw in this object, then to raise the cry

  of fire, and to wait you at the corner of the street."

  "Precisely."

  "Then you may entirely rely on me."

  "That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I

  prepare for the new role I have to play."

  He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes in

  the character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist

  clergyman. His broad black hat, his baggy trousers, his white

  tie, his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering and

  benevolent curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could have

  equalled. It was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His

  expression, his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every

  fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even as

  science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in

  crime.

  It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still

  wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in

  Serpentine Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were just

  being lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge,

  waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just such

  as I had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes's succinct description,

  but the locality appeared to be less private than I expected. On

  the contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighborhood, it was

  remarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed men

  smoking and laughing in a corner, a scissors-grinder with his

  wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse-girl, and

  several well-dressed young men who were lounging up and down with

  cigars in their mouths.

  "You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of

  the house, "this marriage rather simplifies matters. The

  photograph becomes a double-edged weapon now. The chances are

  that she would be as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey

  Norton, as our client is to its coming to the eyes of his

  princess. Now the question is, Where are we to find the

  photograph?"

  "Where, indeed?"

  "It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is

  cabinet size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman's

  dress. She knows that the King is capable of having her waylaid

  and searched. Two attempts of the sort have already been made. We

  may take it, then, that she does not carry it about with her."

  "Where, then?"

  "Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But

  I am inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive,

  and they like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it

  over to anyone else? She could trust her own guardianship, but

  she could not tell what indirect or political influence might be

  brought to bear upon a business man. Besides, remember that she

  had resolved to use it within a few days. It must be where she

  can lay her hands upon it. It must be in her own house."

  "But it has twice been burgled."

  "Pshaw! They did not know how to look."

  "But how will you look?"

  "I will not look."

  "What then?"

  "I will get her to show me."

  "But she will refuse."

  "She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is

  her carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter."

  As he spoke the gleam of the side-lights of a carriage came round

  the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which

  rattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of

  the loafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in

  the hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed away by another

  loafer, who had rushed up with the same intention. A fierce

  quarrel broke out, which was increased by the two guardsmen, who

  took sides with one of the loungers, and by the scissorsgrinder,

  who was equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and

  in an instant the lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was

  the centre of a little knot of flushed and struggling men, who

  struck savagely at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes

  dashed into the crowd to protect the lady; but just as he reached

  her he gave a cry and dropped to the ground, with the blood

  running freely down his face. At his fall the guardsmen took to

  their heels in one direction and the loungers in the other, while

  a number of better-dressed people, who had watched the scuffle

  without taking part in it, crowded in to help the lady and to

  attend to the injured man. Irene Adler, as I will still call her,

  had hurried up the steps; but she stood at the top with her

  superb figure outlined against the lights of the hall, looking

  back into the street.

  "Is the poor gentleman much hurt?" she asked.

  "He is dead," cried several voices.

  "No, no, there's life in him!" shouted another. "But he'll be

  gone before you can get him to hospital."

  "He's a brave fellow," said a woman. "They would have had the

  lady's purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a

  gang, and a rough one, too. Ah, he's breathing now."

  "He can't lie in the street. May we
bring him in, marm?"

  "Surely. Bring him into the sitting-room. There is a comfortable

  sofa. This way, please!"

  Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid out

  in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings

  from my post by the window. The lamps had been lit, but the

  blinds had not been drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay

  upon the couch. I do not know whether he was seized with

  compunction at that moment for the part he was playing, but I

  know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in my life

  than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I was

  conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited

  upon the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery

  to Holmes to draw back now from the part which he had intrusted

  to me. I hardened my heart, and took the smoke-rocket from under

  my ulster. After all, I thought, we are not injuring her. We are

  but preventing her from injuring another.

  Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man

  who is in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the

  window. At the same instant I saw him raise his hand and at the

  signal I tossed my rocket into the room with a cry of "Fire!" The

  word was no sooner out of my mouth than the whole crowd of

  spectators, well dressed and ill--gentlemen, ostlers, and

  servant-maids--joined in a general shriek of "Fire!" Thick clouds

  of smoke curled through the room and out at the open window. I

  caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a moment later the voice

  of Holmes from within assuring them that it was a false alarm.

  Slipping through the shouting crowd I made my way to the corner

  of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find my

  friend's arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of uproar.

  He walked swiftly and in silence for some few minutes until we

  had turned down one of the quiet streets which lead towards the

  Edgeware Road.

  "You did it very nicely, Doctor," he remarked. "Nothing could

  have been better. It is all right."

  "You have the photograph?"

  "I know where it is."

  "And how did you find out?"

  "She showed me, as I told you she would."

  "I am still in the dark."

  "I do not wish to make a mystery," said he, laughing. "The matter

  was perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone in the

  street was an accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening."

  "I guessed as much."

  "Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in

  the palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down. clapped my hand

  to my face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick."

  "That also I could fathom."

  "Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else

  could she do? And into her sitting-room, which was the very room

  which I suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was

  determined to see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned for

  air, they were compelled to open the window. and you had your

  chance."

  "How did that help you?"

  "It was all-important. When a woman thinks that her house is on

  fire, her instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she

  values most. It is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have

  more than once taken advantage of it. In the case of the

  Darlington substitution scandal it was of use to me, and also in

  the Arnsworth Castle business. A married woman grabs at her baby;

  an unmarried one reaches for her jewel-box. Now it was clear to

  me that our lady of to-day had nothing in the house more precious

  to her than what we are in quest of. She would rush to secure it.

  The alarm of fire was admirably done. The smoke and shouting were

  enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded beautifully. The

  photograph is in a recess behind a sliding panel just above the

  right bell-pull. She was there in an instant, and I caught a