Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes THE ILLUSTRIOUS CLIENT

"IT CAN'T hurt now," was Mr. Sherlock Holmes's comment when, for thetenth time in as many years, I asked his leave to reveal the followingnarrative. So it was that at last I obtained permission to put on recordwhat was, in some ways, the supreme moment of my friend's career.Both Holmes and I had a weakness for the Turkish bath. It was over asmoke in the pleasant lassitude of the drying-room that I have found himless reticent and more human than anywhere else. On the upper floor ofthe Northumberland Avenue establishment there is an isolated cornerwhere two couches lie side by side, and it was on these that we lay uponSeptember 3, 1902, the day when my narrative begins. I had asked himwhether anything was stirring, and for answer he had shot his long, thin,nervous arm out of the sheets which enveloped him and had drawn anenvelope from the inside pocket of the coat which hung beside him."It may be some fussy, self-important fool; it may be a matter of life ordeath," said he as he handed me the note. "I know no more than thismessage tells me."It was from the Carlton Club and dated the evening before. This is whatI read:Sir James Damery presents his compliments to Mr. SherlockHolmes and will call upon him at 4:30 to-morrow. Sir James begs to say that the matter upon which he desires to consult Mr. Holmesis very delicate and also very important. He trusts, therefore, thatMr. Holmes will make every effort to grant this interview, and thathe will confirm it over the telephone to the Carlton Club."I need not say that I have confirmed it, Watson," said Holmes as Ireturned the paper. "Do you know anything of this man Damery?""Only that this name is a household word in society.""Well, I can tell you a little more than that. He has rather a reputationfor arranging delicate matters which are to be kept out of the papers. Youmay remember his negotiations with Sir George Lewis over theHammerford Will case. He is a man of the world with a natural turn fordiplomacy. I am bound, therefore, to hope that it is not a false scent andthat he has some real need for our assistance.""Our?""Well, if you will be so good, Watson.""I shall be honoured.""Then you have the hour-4:30. Until then we can put the matter out ofour heads."I was living in my own rooms in Queen Anne Street at the time, but Iwas round at Baker Street before the time named. Sharp to the half-hour,Colonel Sir James Damery was announced. It is hardly necessary todescribe him, for many will [985] remember that large, bluff, honestpersonality, that broad, clean-shaven face, and, above all, that pleasant,mellow voice. Frankness shone from his gray Irish eyes, and goodhumour played round his mobile, smiling lips. His lucent top-hat, his darkfrock-coat, indeed, every detail, from the pearl pin in the black satincravat to the lavender spats over the varnished shoes, spoke of themeticulous care in dress for which he was famous. The big, masterfularistocrat dominated the little room."Of course, I was prepared to find Dr. Watson," he remarked with acourteous bow. "His collaboration may be very necessary, for we aredealing on this occasion, Mr. Holmes, with a man to whom violence isfamiliar and who will, literally, stick at nothing. I should say that there isno more dangerous man in Europe.""I have had several opponents to whom that flattering term has beenapplied," said Holmes with a smile. "Don't you smoke? Then you willexcuse me if I light my pipe. If your man is more dangerous than the lateProfessor Moriarty, or than the living Colonel Sebastian Moran, then he isindeed worth meeting. May I ask his name?""Have you ever heard of Baron Gruner?""You mean the Austrian murderer?"Colonel Damery threw up his kid-gloved hands with a laugh. "There isno getting past you, Mr. Holmes! Wonderful! So you have already sizedhim up as a murderer?""It is my business to follow the details of Continental crime. Who couldpossibly have read what happened at Prague and have any doubts as to theman's guilt! It was a purely technical legal point and the suspicious deathof a witness that saved him! I am as sure that he killed his wife when theso-called 'accident' happened in the Splugen Pass as if I had seen him doit. I knew, also, that he had come to England and had a presentiment thatsooner or later he would find me some work to do. Well, what has BaronGruner been up to? I presume it is not this old tragedy which has come upagain?""No, it is more serious than that. To revenge crime is important, but toprevent it is more so. It is a terrible thing, Mr. Holmes, to see a dreadfulevent, an atrocious situation, preparing itself before your eyes, to clearlyunderstand whither it will lead and yet to be utterly unable to avert it. Cana human being be placed in a more trying position?""Perhaps not.""Then you will sympathize with the client in whose interests I amacting.""I did not understand that you were merely an intermediary. Who is theprincipal?""Mr. Holmes, I must beg you not to press that question. It is importantthat I should be able to assure him that his honoured name has been in noway dragged into the matter. His motives are, to the last degree,honourable and chivalrous, but he prefers to remain unknown. I need notsay that your fees will be assured and that you will be given a perfectly free hand. Surely the actual name of your client is immaterial?""I am sorry," said Holmes. "I am accustomed to have mystery at oneend of my cases, but to have it at both ends is too confusing. I fear, SirJames, that I must decline to act."Our visitor was greatly disturbed. His large, sensitive face wasdarkened with emotion and disappointment.[986] "You hardly realize the effect of your own action, Mr. Holmes,"said he. "You place me in a most serious dilemma, for I am perfectlycertain that you would be proud to take over the case if I could give youthe facts, and yet a promise forbids me from revealing them all. May I, atleast, lay all that I can before you?""By all means, so long as it is understood that I commit myself tonothing.""That is understood. In the first place, you have no doubt heard ofGeneral de Merville?""De Merville of Khyber fame? Yes, I have heard of him.""He has a daughter, Violet de Merville, young, rich, beautiful,accomplished, a wonder-woman in every way. It is this daughter, thislovely, innocent girl, whom we are endeavouring to save from theclutches of a fiend.""Baron Gruner has some hold over her, then?""The strongest of all holds where a woman is concerned-the hold oflove. The fellow is, as you may have heard, extraordinarily handsome,with a most fascinating manner, a gentle voice, and that air of romanceand mystery which means so much to a woman. He is said to have thewhole sex at his mercy and to have made ample use of the fact.""But how came such a man to meet a lady of the standing of MissViolet de Merville?""It was on a Mediterranean yachting voyage. The company, thoughselect, paid their own passages. No doubt the promoters hardly realizedthe Baron's true character until it was too late. The villain attachedhimself to the lady, and with such effect that he has completely andabsolutely won her heart. To say that she loves him hardly expresses it.She dotes upon him; she is obsessed by him. Outside of him there isnothing on earth. She will not hear one word against him. Everything hasbeen done to cure her of her madness, but in vain. To sum up, sheproposes to marry him next month. As she is of age and has a will of iron,it is hard to know how to prevent her.""Does she know about the Austrian episode?""The cunning devil has told her every unsavoury public scandal of hispast life, but always in such a way as to make himself out to be aninnocent martyr. She absolutely accepts his version and will listen to noother.""Dear me! But surely you have inadvertently let out the name of yourclient? It is no doubt General de Merville."Our visitor fidgeted in his chair."I could deceive you by saying so, Mr. Holmes, but it would not betrue. De Merville is a broken man. The strong soldier has been utterlydemoralized by this incident. He has lost the nerve which never failed him on the battlefield and has become a weak, doddering old man, utterlyincapable of contending with a brilliant, forceful rascal like this Austrian.My client, however, is an old friend, one who has known the Generalintimately for many years and taken a paternal interest in this young girlsince she wore short frocks. He cannot see this tragedy consummatedwithout some attempt to stop it. There is nothing in which Scotland Yardcan act. It was his own suggestion that you should be called in, but it was,as I have said, on the express stipulation that he should not be personallyinvolved in the matter. I have no doubt, Mr. Holmes, with your greatpowers you could easily trace my client back through me, but I must askyou, as a point of honour, to refrain from doing so, and not to break inupon his incognito."Holmes gave a whimsical smile.[987] "I think I may safely promise that," said he. "I may add that yourproblem interests me, and that I shall be prepared to look into it. Howshall I keep in touch with you?""The Carlton Club will find me. But in case of emergency, there is aprivate telephone call, 'XX.31.'"Holmes noted it down and sat, still smiling, with the openmemorandum-book upon his knee."The Baron's present address, please?""Vernon Lodge, near Kingston. It is a large house. He has beenfortunate in some rather shady speculations and is a rich man, whichnaturally makes him a more dangerous antagonist.""Is he at home at present?""Yes.""Apart from what you have told me, can you give me any furtherinformation about the man?""He has expensive tastes. He is a horse fancier. For a short time heplayed polo at Hurlingham, but then this Prague affair got noised aboutand he had to leave. He collects books and pictures. He is a man with aconsiderable artistic side to his nature. He is, I believe, a recognizedauthority upon Chinese pottery and has written a book upon the subject.""A complex mind," said Holmes. "All great criminals have that. Myold friend Charlie Peace was a violin virtuoso. Wainwright was no meanartist. I could quote many more. Well, Sir James, you will inform yourclient that I am turning my mind upon Baron Gruner. I can say no more. Ihave some sources of information of my own, and I dare say we may findsome means of opening the matter up."When our visitor had left us Holmes sat so long in deep thought that itseemed to me that he had forgotten my presence. At last, however, hecame briskly back to earth."Well, Watson, any views?" he asked."I should think you had better see the young lady herself.""My dear Watson, if her poor old broken father cannot move her, howshall I, a stranger, prevail? And yet there is something in the suggestion ifall else fails. But I think we must begin from a different angle. I ratherfancy that Shinwell Johnson might be a help."I have not had occasion to mention Shinwell Johnson in these memoirs because I have seldom drawn my cases from the latter phases of myfriend's career. During the first years of the century he became a valuableassistant. Johnson, I grieve to say, made his name first as a verydangerous villain and served two terms at Parkhurst. Finally he repentedand allied himself to Holmes, acting as his agent in the huge criminalunderworld of London and obtaining information which often proved tobe of vital importance. Had Johnson been a "nark" of the police he wouldsoon have been exposed, but as he dealt with cases which never camedirectly into the courts, his activities were never realized by hiscompanions. With the glamour of his two convictions upon him, he hadthe entree of every night-club, doss house, and gambling-den in the town,and his quick observation and active brain made him an ideal agent forgaining information. It was to him that Sherlock Holmes now proposed toturn.It was not possible for me to follow the immediate steps taken by myfriend, for I had some pressing professional business of my own, but I methim by [988] appointment that evening at Simpson's, where, sitting at asmall table in the front window and looking down at the rushing stream oflife in the Strand, he told me something of what had passed."Johnson is on the prowl," said he. "He may pick up some garbage inthe darker recesses of the underworld, for it is down there, amid the blackroots of crime, that we must hunt for this man's secrets.""But if the lady will not accept what is already known, why should anyfresh discovery of yours turn her from her purpose?""Who knows, Watson? Woman's heart and mind are insoluble puzzlesto the male. Murder might be condoned or explained, and yet somesmaller offence might rankle. Baron Gruner remarked to me- -""He remarked to you!""Oh, to be sure, I had not told you of my plans. Well, Watson, I love tocome to close grips with my man. I like to meet him eye to eye and readfor myself the stuff that he is made of. When I had given Johnson hisinstructions I took a cab out to Kingston and found the Baron in a mostaffable mood.""Did he recognize you?""There was no difficulty about that, for I simply sent in my card. He isan excellent antagonist, cool as ice, silky voiced and soothing as one ofyour fashionable consultants, and poisonous as a cobra. He has breedingin him-a real aristocrat of crime, with a superficial suggestion ofafternoon tea and all the cruelty of the grave behind it. Yes, I am glad tohave had my attention called to Baron Adelbert Gruner.""You say he was affable?""A purring cat who thinks he sees prospective mice. Some people'saffability is more deadly than the violence of coarser souls. His greetingwas characteristic. 'I rather thought I should see you sooner or later, Mr.Holmes,' said he. 'You have been engaged, no doubt by General deMerville, to endeavour to stop my marriage with his daughter, Violet.That is so, is it not?'"I acquiesced." 'My dear man,' said he, 'you will only ruin your own well-deserved reputation. It is not a case in which you can possibly succeed. You willhave barren work, to say nothing of incurring some danger. Let me verystrongly advise you to draw off at once.'" 'It is curious,' I answered, 'but that was the very advice which I hadintended to give you. I have a respect for your brains, Baron, and the littlewhich I have seen of your personality has not lessened it. Let me put it toyou as man to man. No one wants to rake up your past and make youunduly uncomfortable. It is over, and you are now in smooth waters, butif you persist in this marriage you will raise up a swarm of powerfulenemies who will never leave you alone until they have made Englandtoo hot to hold you. Is the game worth it? Surely you would be wiser ifyou left the lady alone. It would not be pleasant for you if these facts ofyour past were brought to her notice.'"The Baron has little waxed tips of hair under his nose, like the shortantennae of an insect. These quivered with amusement as he listened, andhe finally broke into a gentle chuckle." 'Excuse my amusement, Mr. Holmes,' said he, 'but it is really funnyto see you trying to play a hand with no cards in it. I don't think anyonecould do it better, [989] but it is rather pathetic, all the same. Not a colourcard there, Mr. Holmes, nothing but the smallest of the small.'" 'So you think.'" 'So I know. Let me make the thing clear to you, for my own hand isso strong that I can afford to show it. I have been fortunate enough to winthe entire affection of this lady. This was given to me in spite of the factthat I told her very clearly of all the unhappy incidents in my past life. Ialso told her that certain wicked and designing persons-I hope yourecognize yourself -would come to her and tell her these things, and Iwarned her how to treat them. You have heard of post-hypnoticsuggestion, Mr. Holmes? Well, you will see how it works, for a man ofpersonality can use hypnotism without any vulgar passes or tomfoolery.So she is ready for you and, I have no doubt, would give you anappointment, for she is quite amenable to her father's will-save only inthe one little matter.'"Well, Watson, there seemed to be no more to say, so I took my leavewith as much cold dignity as I could summon, but, as I had my hand onthe door-handle, he stopped me." 'By the way, Mr. Holmes,' said he, 'did you know Le Brun, theFrench agent?'" 'Yes,' said I." 'Do you know what befell him?'" 'I heard that he was beaten by some Apaches in the Montmartredistrict and crippled for life.'" 'Quite true, Mr. Holmes. By a curious coincidence he had beeninquiring into my affairs only a week before. Don't do it, Mr. Holmes; it'snot a lucky thing to do. Several have found that out. My last word to youis, go your own way and let me go mine. Good-bye!'"So there you are, Watson. You are up to date now.""The fellow seems dangerous.""Mighty dangerous. I disregard the blusterer, but this is the sort of manwho says rather less than he means.""Must you interfere? Does it really matter if he marries the girl?""Considering that he undoubtedly murdered his last wife, I should sayit mattered very much. Besides, the client! Well, well, we need notdiscuss that. When you have finished your coffee you had best comehome with me, for the blithe Shinwell will be there with his report."We found him sure enough, a huge, coarse, red-faced, scorbutic man,with a pair of vivid black eyes which were the only external sign of thevery cunning mind within. It seems that he had dived down into what waspeculiarly his kingdom, and beside him on the settee was a brand whichhe had brought up in the shape of a slim, flame-like young woman with apale, intense face, youthful, and yet so worn with sin and sorrow that one read the terrible years which had left their leprous mark upon her."This is Miss Kitty Winter," said Shinwell Johnson, waving his fathand as an introduction. "What she don't know-well, there, she'll speakfor herself. Put my hand right on her, Mr. Holmes, within an hour of yourmessage.""I'm easy to find," said the young woman. "Hell, London, gets meevery time. Same address for Porky Shinwell. We're old mates, Porky,you and I. But, by cripes! there is another who ought to be down in alower hell than we if there was any justice in the world! That is the manyou are after, Mr. Holmes."Holmes smiled. "I gather we have your good wishes, Miss Winter."[990] "If I can help to put him where he belongs, I'm yours to therattle," said our visitor with fierce energy. There was an intensity ofhatred in her white, set face and her blazing eyes such as woman seldomand man never can attain. "You needn't go into my past, Mr. Holmes.That's neither here nor there. But what I am Adelbert Gruner made me. IfI could pull him down!" She clutched frantically with her hands into theair. "Oh, if I could only pull him into the pit where he has pushed somany!""You know how the matter stands?""Porky Shinwell has been telling me. He's after some other poor fooland wants to marry her this time. You want to stop it. Well, you surelyknow enough about this devil to prevent any decent girl in her senseswanting to be in the same parish with him.""She is not in her senses. She is madly in love. She has been told allabout him. She cares nothing.""Told about the murder?""Yes.""My Lord, she must have a nerve!""She puts them all down as slanders.""Couldn't you lay proofs before her silly eyes?""Well, can you help us do so?""Ain't I a proof myself? If I stood before her and told her how he usedme- -""Would you do this?""Would I? Would I not!""Well, it might be worth trying. But he has told her most of his sins andhad pardon from her, and I understand she will not reopen the question.""I'll lay he didn't tell her all," said Miss Winter. "I caught a glimpse ofone or two murders besides the one that made such a fuss. He wouldspeak of someone in his velvet way and then look at me with a steady eyeand say: 'He died within a month.' It wasn't hot air, either. But I tooklittle notice- you see, I loved him myself at that time. Whatever he didwent with me, same as with this poor fool! There was just one thing thatshook me. Yes, by cripes! if it had not been for his poisonous, lyingtongue that explains and soothes, I'd have left him that very night. It's abook he has-a brown leather book with a lock, and his arms in gold onthe outside. I think he was a bit drunk that night, or he would not haveshown it to me." "What was it, then?""I tell you, Mr. Holmes, this man collects women, and takes a pride inhis collection, as some men collect moths or butterflies. He had it all inthat book. Snapshot photographs, names, details, everything about them.It was a beastly book-a book no man, even if he had come from thegutter, could have put together. But it was Adelbert Gruner's book all thesame. 'Souls I have ruined.' He could have put that on the outside if hehad been so minded. However, that's neither here nor there, for the bookwould not serve you, and, if it would, you can't get it.""Where is it?""How can I tell you where it is now? It's more than a year since I lefthim. I know where he kept it then. He's a precise, tidy cat of a man inmany of his ways, so maybe it is still in the pigeon-hole of the old bureauin the inner study. Do you know his house?""I've been in the study," said Holmes.[991] "Have you, though? You haven't been slow on the job if you onlystarted this morning. Maybe dear Adelbert has met his match this time.The outer study is the one with the Chinese crockery in it-big glasscupboard between the windows. Then behind his desk is the door thatleads to the inner study-a small room where he keeps papers and things.""Is he not afraid of burglars?""Adelbert is no coward. His worst enemy couldn't say that of him. Hecan look after himself. There's a burglar alarm at night. Besides, what isthere for a burglar-unless they got away with all this fancy crockery?""No good," said Shinwell Johnson with the decided voice of the expert."No fence wants stuff of that sort that you can neither melt nor sell.""Quite so," said Holmes. "Well, now, Miss Winter, if you would callhere to-morrow evening at five, I would consider in the meanwhilewhether your suggestion of seeing this lady personally may not bearranged. I am exceedingly obliged to you for your cooperation. I neednot say that my clients will consider liberally- -""None of that, Mr. Holmes," cried the young woman. "I am not out formoney. Let me see this man in the mud, and I've got all I've workedfor-in the mud with my foot on his cursed face. That's my price. I'm withyou to-morrow or any other day so long as you are on his track. Porkyhere can tell you always where to find me."I did not see Holmes again until the following evening when we dinedonce more at our Strand restaurant. He shrugged his shoulders when Iasked him what luck he had had in his interview. Then he told the story,which I would repeat in this way. His hard, dry statement needs somelittle editing to soften it into the terms of real life."There was no difficulty at all about the appointment," said Holmes,"for the girl glories in showing abject filial obedience in all secondarythings in an attempt to atone for her flagrant breach of it in herengagement. The General 'phoned that all was ready, and the fiery MissW. turned up according to schedule, so that at half-past five a cabdeposited us outside 104 Berkeley Square, where the old soldierresides-one of those awful gray London castles which would make achurch seem frivolous. A footman showed us into a great yellow-curtained drawing-room, and there was the lady awaiting us, demure,pale, self-contained, as inflexible and remote as a snow image on amountain."I don't quite know how to make her clear to you, Watson. Perhaps youmay meet her before we are through, and you can use your own gift ofwords. She is beautiful, but with the ethereal other-world beauty of somefanatic whose thoughts are set on high. I have seen such faces in thepictures of the old masters of the Middle Ages. How a beastman couldhave laid his vile paws upon such a being of the beyond I cannot imagine.You may have noticed how extremes call to each other, the spiritual to theanimal, the cave-man to the angel. You never saw a worse case than this."She knew what we had come for, of course-that villain had lost notime in poisoning her mind against us. Miss Winter's advent ratheramazed her, I think, but she waved us into our respective chairs like areverend abbess receiving two rather leprous mendicants. If your head isinclined to swell, my dear Watson, take a course of Miss Violet deMerville." 'Well, sir,' said she in a voice like the wind from an iceberg, 'yourname is familiar to me. You have called, as I understand, to malign myfiancé, Baron Gruner. It is only by my father's request that I see you atall, and I warn you in [992] advance that anything you can say could notpossibly have the slightest effect upon my mind.'"I was sorry for her, Watson. I thought of her for the moment as Iwould have thought of a daughter of my own. I am not often eloquent. Iuse my head, not my heart. But I really did plead with her with all thewarmth of words that I could find in my nature. I pictured to her the awfulposition of the woman who only wakes to a man's character after she ishis wife-a woman who has to submit to be caressed by bloody hands andlecherous lips. I spared her nothing -the shame, the fear, the agony, thehopelessness of it all. All my hot words could not bring one tinge ofcolour to those ivory cheeks or one gleam of emotion to those abstractedeyes. I thought of what the rascal had said about a post-hypnoticinfluence. One could really believe that she was living above the earth insome ecstatic dream. Yet there was nothing indefinite in her replies." 'I have listened to you with patience, Mr. Holmes,' said she. 'Theeffect upon my mind is exactly as predicted. I am aware that Adelbert,that my fiancé, has had a stormy life in which he has incurred bitterhatreds and most unjust aspersions. You are only the last of a series whohave brought their slanders before me. Possibly you mean well, though Ilearn that you are a paid agent who would have been equally willing toact for the Baron as against him. But in any case I wish you to understandonce for all that I love him and that he loves me, and that the opinion ofall the world is no more to me than the twitter of those birds outside thewindow. If his noble nature has ever for an instant fallen, it may be that Ihave been specially sent to raise it to its true and lofty level. I am notclear'-here she turned eyes upon my companion-'who this young ladymay be.'"I was about to answer when the girl broke in like a whirlwind. If everyou saw flame and ice face to face, it was those two women. " 'I'll tell you who I am,' she cried, springing out of her chair, hermouth all twisted with passion-'I am his last mistress. I am one of ahundred that he has tempted and used and ruined and thrown into therefuse heap, as he will you also. Your refuse heap is more likely to be agrave, and maybe that's the best. I tell you, you foolish woman, if youmarry this man he'll be the death of you. It may be a broken heart or itmay be a broken neck, but he'll have you one way or the other. It's notout of love for you I'm speaking. I don't care a tinker's curse whether youlive or die. It's out of hate for him and to spite him and to get back on himfor what he did to me. But it's all the same, and you needn't look at melike that, my fine lady, for you may be lower than I am before you arethrough with it.'" 'I should prefer not to discuss such matters,' said Miss de Mervillecoldly. 'Let me say once for all that I am aware of three passages in myfiancé's life in which he became entangled with designing women, andthat I am assured of his hearty repentance for any evil that he may havedone.'" 'Three passages!' screamed my companion. 'You fool! Youunutterable fool!'" 'Mr. Holmes, I beg that you will bring this interview to an end,' saidthe icy voice. 'I have obeyed my father's wish in seeing you, but I am notcompelled to listen to the ravings of this person.'"With an oath Miss Winter darted forward, and if I had not caught herwrist she would have clutched this maddening woman by the hair. Idragged her towards the door and was lucky to get her back into the cabwithout a public scene, for she was beside herself with rage. In a cold wayI felt pretty furious myself, Watson, for there was somethingindescribably annoying in the calm aloofness and supreme [993] selfcomplaisance of the woman whom we were trying to save. So now onceagain you know exactly how we stand, and it is clear that I must plansome fresh opening move, for this gambit won't work. I'll keep in touchwith you, Watson, for it is more than likely that you will have your part toplay, though it is just possible that the next move may lie with them rather than with us."And it did. Their blow fell-or his blow rather, for never could I believethat the lady was privy to it. I think I could show you the very pavingstone upon which I stood when my eyes fell upon the placard, and a pangof horror passed through my very soul. It was between the Grand Hoteland Charing Cross Station, where a one-legged news-vender displayed hisevening papers. The date was just two days after the last conversation.There, black upon yellow, was the terrible news-sheet:MURDEROUS ATTACK UPONSHERLOCK HOLMESI think I stood stunned for some moments. Then I have a confusedrecollection of snatching at a paper, of the remonstrance of the man,whom I had not paid, and, finally, of standing in the doorway of achemist's shop while I turned up the fateful paragraph. This was how itran:We learn with regret that Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the well-knownprivate detective, was the victim this morning of a murderousassault which has left him in a precarious position. There are noexact details to hand, but the event seems to have occurred abouttwelve o'clock in Regent Street, outside the Cafe Royal. The attack was made by two men armed with sticks, and Mr. Holmeswas beaten about the head and body, receiving injuries which thedoctors describe as most serious. He was carried to Charing CrossHospital and afterwards insisted upon being taken to his rooms inBaker Street. The miscreants who attacked him appear to havebeen respectably dressed men, who escaped from the bystandersby passing through the Cafe Royal and out into Glasshouse Streetbehind it. No doubt they belonged to that criminal fraternity whichhas so often had occasion to bewail the activity and ingenuity ofthe injured man.I need not say that my eyes had hardly glanced over the paragraphbefore I had sprung into a hansom and was on my way to Baker Street. Ifound Sir Leslie Oakshott, the famous surgeon, in the hall and hisbrougham waiting at the curb."No immediate danger," was his report. "Two lacerated scalp woundsand some considerable bruises. Several stitches have been necessary.Morphine has been injected and quiet is essential, but an interview of afew minutes would not be absolutely forbidden."With this permission I stole into the darkened room. The sufferer waswide awake, and I heard my name in a hoarse whisper. The blind wasthree-quarters down, but one ray of sunlight slanted through and struckthe bandaged head of the injured man. A crimson patch had soakedthrough the white linen compress. I sat beside him and bent my head."All right, Watson. Don't look so scared," he muttered in a very weakvoice. "It's not as bad as it seems.""Thank God for that!""I'm a bit of a single-stick expert, as you know. I took most of them onmy guard. It was the second man that was too much for me." [994] "What can I do, Holmes? Of course, it was that damned fellowwho set them on. I'll go and thrash the hide off him if you give the word.""Good old Watson! No, we can do nothing there unless the police laytheir hands on the men. But their get-away had been well prepared. Wemay be sure of that. Wait a little. I have my plans. The first thing is toexaggerate my injuries. They'll come to you for news. Put it on thick,Watson. Lucky if I live the week out-concussion-delirium-what youlike! You can't overdo it.""But Sir Leslie Oakshott?""Oh, he's all right. He shall see the worst side of me. I'll look afterthat.""Anything else?""Yes. Tell Shinwell Johnson to get that girl out of the way. Thosebeauties will be after her now. They know, of course, that she was withme in the case. If they dared to do me in it is not likely they will neglecther. That is urgent. Do it to-night.""I'll go now. Anything more?""Put my pipe on the table-and the tobacco-slipper. Right! Come ineach morning and we will plan our campaign."I arranged with Johnson that evening to take Miss Winter to a quietsuburb and see that she lay low until the danger was past.For six days the public were under the impression that Holmes was atthe door of death. The bulletins were very grave and there were sinisterparagraphs in the papers. My continual visits assured me that it was not sobad as that. His wiry constitution and his determined will were workingwonders. He was recovering fast, and I had suspicions at times that hewas really finding himself faster than he pretended even to me. There wasa curious secretive streak in the man which led to many dramatic effects,but left even his closest friend guessing as to what his exact plans mightbe. He pushed to an extreme the axiom that the only safe plotter was hewho plotted alone. I was nearer him than anyone else, and yet I wasalways conscious of the gap between.On the seventh day the stitches were taken out, in spite of which therewas a report of erysipelas in the evening papers. The same evening papershad an announcement which I was bound, sick or well, to carry to myfriend. It was simply that among the passengers on the Cunard boatRuritania, starting from Liverpool on Friday, was the Baron AdelbertGruner, who had some important financial business to settle in the Statesbefore his impending wedding to Miss Violet de Merville, only daughterof, etc., etc. Holmes listened to the news with a cold, concentrated lookupon his pale face, which told me that it hit him hard."Friday!" he cried. "Only three clear days. I believe the rascal wants toput himself out of danger's way. But he won't, Watson! By the LordHarry, he won't! Now, Watson, I want you to do something for me.""I am here to be used, Holmes.""Well, then, spend the next twenty-four hours in an intensive study ofChinese pottery."He gave no explanations and I asked for none. By long experience Ihad learned the wisdom of obedience. But when I had left his room I walked down Baker Street, revolving in my head how on earth I was tocarry out so strange an order. Finally I drove to the London Library in St.James's Square, put the matter to my friend Lomax, the sublibrarian, anddeparted to my rooms with a goodly volume under my arm.[995] It is said that the barrister who crams up a case with such care thathe can examine an expert witness upon the Monday has forgotten all hisforced knowledge before the Saturday. Certainly I should not like now topose as an authority upon ceramics. And yet all that evening, and all thatnight with a short interval for rest, and all next morning, I was sucking inknowledge and committing names to memory. There I learned of the hallmarks of the great artist-decorators, of the mystery of cyclical dates, themarks of the Hung-wu and the beauties of the Yung-lo, the writings ofTang-ying, and the glories of the primitive period of the Sung and theYuan. I was charged with all this information when I called upon Holmesnext evening. He was out of bed now, though you would not have guessedit from the published reports, and he sat with his much-bandaged headresting upon his hand in the depth of his favourite armchair."Why, Holmes," I said, "if one believed the papers, you are dying.""That," said he, "is the very impression which I intended to convey.And now, Watson, have you learned your lessons?""At least I have tried to.""Good. You could keep up an intelligent conversation on the subject?""I believe I could.""Then hand me that little box from the mantelpiece."He opened the lid and took out a small object most carefully wrappedin some fine Eastern silk. This he unfolded, and disclosed a delicate littlesaucer of the most beautiful deep-blue colour."It needs careful handling, Watson. This is the real egg-shell pottery ofthe Ming dynasty. No finer piece ever passed through Christie's. Acomplete set of this would be worth a king's ransom-in fact, it is doubtfulif there is a complete set outside the imperial palace of Peking. The sightof this would drive a real connoisseur wild.""What am I to do with it?"Holmes handed me a card upon which was printed: "Dr. Hill Barton,369 Half Moon Street.""That is your name for the evening, Watson. You will call upon BaronGruner. I know something of his habits, and at half-past eight he wouldprobably be disengaged. A note will tell him in advance that you areabout to call, and you will say that you are bringing him a specimen of anabsolutely unique set of Ming china. You may as well be a medical man,since that is a part which you can play without duplicity. You are acollector, this set has come your way, you have heard of the Baron'sinterest in the subject, and you are not averse to selling at a price.""What price?""Well asked, Watson. You would certainly fall down badly if you didnot know the value of your own wares. This saucer was got for me by SirJames, and comes, I understand, from the collection of his client. Youwill not exaggerate if you say that it could hardly be matched in theworld." "I could perhaps suggest that the set should be valued by an expert.""Excellent, Watson! You scintillate to-day. Suggest Christie orSotheby. Your delicacy prevents your putting a price for yourself.""But if he won't see me?""Oh, yes, he will see you. He has the collection mania in its most acuteform-and especially on this subject, on which he is an acknowledgedauthority. Sit down, [996] Watson, and I will dictate the letter. No answerneeded. You will merely say that you are coming, and why."It was an admirable document, short, courteous, and stimulating to thecuriosity of the connoisseur. A district messenger was duly dispatchedwith it. On the same evening, with the precious saucer in my hand and thecard of Dr. Hill Barton in my pocket, I set off on my own adventure.The beautiful house and grounds indicated that Baron Gruner was, asSir James had said, a man of considerable wealth. A long winding drive,with banks of rare shrubs on either side, opened out into a great gravelledsquare adorned with statues. The place had been built by a South Africangold king in the days of the great boom, and the long, low house with theturrets at the corners, though an architectural nightmare, was imposing inits size and solidity. A butler, who would have adorned a bench ofbishops, showed me in and handed me over to a plush-clad footman, whoushered me into the Baron's presence.He was standing at the open front of a great case which stood betweenthe windows and which contained part of his Chinese collection. Heturned as I entered with a small brown vase in his hand."Pray sit down, Doctor," said he. "I was looking over my own treasuresand wondering whether I could really afford to add to them. This littleTang specimen, which dates from the seventh century, would probablyinterest you. I am sure you never saw finer workmanship or a richer glaze.Have you the Ming saucer with you of which you spoke?"I carefully unpacked it and handed it to him. He seated himself at hisdesk, pulled over the lamp, for it was growing dark, and set himself toexamine it. As he did so the yellow light beat upon his own features, and Iwas able to study them at my ease.He was certainly a remarkably handsome man. His European reputationfor beauty was fully deserved. In figure he was not more than of middlesize, but was built upon graceful and active lines. His face was swarthy,almost Oriental, with large, dark, languorous eyes which might easilyhold an irresistible fascination for women. His hair and moustache wereraven black, the latter short, pointed, and carefully waxed. His featureswere regular and pleasing, save only his straight, thin-lipped mouth. Ifever I saw a murderer's mouth it was there-a cruel, hard gash in the face,compressed, inexorable, and terrible. He was ill-advised to train hismoustache away from it, for it was Nature's danger-signal, set as awarning to his victims. His voice was engaging and his manners perfect.In age I should have put him at little over thirty, though his recordafterwards showed that he was forty-two."Very fine-very fine indeed!" he said at last. "And you say you have aset of six to correspond. What puzzles me is that I should not have heardof such magnificent specimens. I only know of one in England to matchthis, and it is certainly not likely to be in the market. Would it beindiscreet if I were to ask you, Dr. Hill Barton, how you obtained this?""Does it really matter?" I asked with as careless an air as I couldmuster. "You can see that the piece is genuine, and, as to the value, I amcontent to take an expert's valuation.""Very mysterious," said he with a quick, suspicious flash of his darkeyes. "In dealing with objects of such value, one naturally wishes to knowall about the transaction. That the piece is genuine is certain. I have nodoubts at all about that. [997] But suppose-I am bound to take everypossibility into account- that it should prove afterwards that you had noright to sell?""I would guarantee you against any claim of the sort.""That, of course, would open up the question as to what your guaranteewas worth.""My bankers would answer that.""Quite so. And yet the whole transaction strikes me as rather unusual.""You can do business or not," said I with indifference. "I have givenyou the first offer as I understood that you were a connoisseur, but I shallhave no difficulty in other quarters.""Who told you I was a connoisseur?""I was aware that you had written a book upon the subject.""Have you read the book?""No.""Dear me, this becomes more and more difficult for me to understand! You are a connoisseur and collector with a very valuable piece in yourcollection, and yet you have never troubled to consult the one book whichwould have told you of the real meaning and value of what you held. Howdo you explain that?""I am a very busy man. I am a doctor in practice.""That is no answer. If a man has a hobby he follows it up, whatever hisother pursuits may be. You said in your note that you were a connoisseur.""So I am.""Might I ask you a few questions to test you? I am obliged to tell you,Doctor-if you are indeed a doctor-that the incident becomes more andmore suspicious. I would ask you what do you know of the EmperorShomu and how do you associate him with the Shoso-in near Nara? Dearme, does that puzzle you? Tell me a little about the Northern Wei dynastyand its place in the history of ceramics."I sprang from my chair in simulated anger."This is intolerable, sir," said I. "I came here to do you a favour, andnot to be examined as if I were a schoolboy. My knowledge on thesesubjects may be second only to your own, but I certainly shall not answerquestions which have been put in so offensive a way."He looked at me steadily. The languor had gone from his eyes. Theysuddenly glared. There was a gleam of teeth from between those cruel lips."What is the game? You are here as a spy. You are an emissary ofHolmes. This is a trick that you are playing upon me. The fellow is dyingI hear, so he sends his tools to keep watch upon me. You've made yourway in here without leave, and, by God! you may find it harder to get outthan to get in."He had sprung to his feet, and I stepped back, bracing myself for anattack, for the man was beside himself with rage. He may have suspectedme from the first; certainly this cross-examination had shown him thetruth; but it was clear that I could not hope to deceive him. He dived hishand into a side-drawer and rummaged furiously. Then something struckupon his ear, for he stood listening intently."Ah!" he cried. "Ah!" and dashed into the room behind him.Two steps took me to the open door, and my mind will ever carry aclear picture of the scene within. The window leading out to the gardenwas wide open. Beside it, looking like some terrible ghost, his head girtwith bloody bandages, his face drawn and white, stood Sherlock Holmes.The next instant he was through the [998] gap, and I heard the crash of hisbody among the laurel bushes outside. With a howl of rage the master ofthe house rushed after him to the open window.And then! It was done in an instant, and yet I clearly saw it. An arm- awoman's arm-shot out from among the leaves. At the same instant theBaron uttered a horrible cry-a yell which will always ring in my memory.He clapped his two hands to his face and rushed round the room, beatinghis head horribly against the walls. Then he fell upon the carpet, rollingand writhing, while scream after scream resounded through the house."Water! For God's sake, water!" was his cry.I seized a carafe from a side-table and rushed to his aid. At the samemoment the butler and several footmen ran in from the hall. I rememberthat one of them fainted as I knelt by the injured man and turned thatawful face to the light of the lamp. The vitriol was eating into iteverywhere and dripping from the ears and the chin. One eye was alreadywhite and glazed. The other was red and inflamed. The features which Ihad admired a few minutes before were now like some beautiful paintingover which the artist has passed a wet and foul sponge. They wereblurred, discoloured, inhuman, terrible.In a few words I explained exactly what had occurred, so far as thevitriol attack was concerned. Some had climbed through the window andothers had rushed out on to the lawn, but it was dark and it had begun torain. Between his screams the victim raged and raved against the avenger. "It was that hell-cat, Kitty Winter!" he cried. "Oh, the she-devil! She shallpay for it! She shall pay! Oh, God in heaven, this pain is more than I canbear!"I bathed his face in oil, put cotton wadding on the raw surfaces, andadministered a hypodermic of morphia. All suspicion of me had passedfrom his mind in the presence of this shock, and he clung to my hands asif I might have the power even yet to clear those dead-fish eyes whichgazed up at me. I could have wept over the ruin had I not rememberedvery clearly the vile life which had led up to so hideous a change. It wasloathsome to feel the pawing of his burning hands, and I was relievedwhen his family surgeon, closely followed by a specialist, came to relieveme of my charge. An inspector of police had also arrived, and to him Ihanded my real card. It would have been useless as well as foolish to dootherwise, for I was nearly as well known by sight at the Yard as Holmeshimself. Then I left that house of gloom and terror. Within an hour I wasat Baker Street.Holmes was seated in his familiar chair, looking very pale andexhausted. Apart from his injuries, even his iron nerves had been shockedby the events of the evening, and he listened with horror to my account ofthe Baron's transformation."The wages of sin, Watson-the wages of sin!" said he. "Sooner or laterit will always come. God knows, there was sin enough," he added, takingup a brown volume from the table. "Here is the book the woman talkedof. If this will not break off the marriage, nothing ever could. But it will,Watson. It must. No self-respecting woman could stand it.""It is his love diary?""Or his lust diary. Call it what you will. The moment the woman toldus of it I realized what a tremendous weapon was there if we could but layour hands on it. I said nothing at the time to indicate my thoughts, for thiswoman might have given it away. But I brooded over it. Then this assaultupon me gave me the chance of letting the Baron think that noprecautions need be taken against me. That was all to the good. I wouldhave waited a little longer, but his visit to [999] America forced my hand.He would never have left so compromising a document behind him.Therefore we had to act at once. Burglary at night is impossible. He takesprecautions. But there was a chance in the evening if I could only be surethat his attention was engaged. That was where you and your blue saucercame in. But I had to be sure of the position of the book, and I knew I hadonly a few minutes in which to act, for my time was limited by yourknowledge of Chinese pottery. Therefore I gathered the girl up at the lastmoment. How could I guess what the little packet was that she carried socarefully under her cloak? I thought she had come altogether on mybusiness, but it seems she had some of her own.""He guessed I came from you.""I feared he would. But you held him in play just long enough for me toget the book, though not long enough for an unobserved escape. Ah, SirJames, I am very glad you have come!"Our courtly friend had appeared in answer to a previous summons. Helistened with the deepest attention to Holmes's account of what had occurred."You have done wonders-wonders!" he cried when he had heard thenarrative. "But if these injuries are as terrible as Dr. Watson describes,then surely our purpose of thwarting the marriage is sufficiently gainedwithout the use of this horrible book."Holmes shook his head."Women of the De Merville type do not act like that. She would lovehim the more as a disfigured martyr. No, no. It is his moral side, not hisphysical, which we have to destroy. That book will bring her back toearth- and I know nothing else that could. It is in his own writing. Shecannot get past it."Sir James carried away both it and the precious saucer. As I was myselfoverdue, I went down with him into the street. A brougham was waitingfor him. He sprang in, gave a hurried order to the cockaded coachman,and drove swiftly away. He flung his overcoat half out of the window tocover the armorial bearings upon the panel, but I had seen them in theglare of our fanlight none the less. I gasped with surprise. Then I turnedback and ascended the stair to Holmes's room."I have found out who our client is," I cried, bursting with my greatnews. "Why, Holmes, it is- -""It is a loyal friend and a chivalrous gentleman," said Holmes, holdingup a restraining hand. "Let that now and forever be enough for us."I do not know how the incriminating book was used. Sir James mayhave managed it. Or it is more probable that so delicate a task wasentrusted to the young lady's father. The effect, at any rate, was all thatcould be desired. Three days later appeared a paragraph in the MorningPost to say that the marriage between Baron Adelbert Gruner and MissViolet de Merville would not take place. The same paper had the firstpolice-court hearing of the proceedings against Miss Kitty Winter on thegrave charge of vitriol-throwing. Such extenuating circumstances cameout in the trial that the sentence, as will be remembered, was the lowestthat was possible for such an offence. Sherlock Holmes was threatenedwith a prosecution for burglary, but when an object is good and a client issufficiently illustrious, even the rigid British law becomes human andelastic. My friend has not yet stood in the dock.