我原来打算发表《格兰其庄园》之后，不再写我的朋友歇洛克·福尔摩斯先生的辉煌事
　　 迹了。这并不是因为缺少素材，还有几百个案例没有使用过；也不是因为读者对于这位卓越
　　 人物的优秀品格和独特方法失掉了兴趣。真正的原因是福尔摩斯先生不愿意再继续发表他的
　　 经历。其实，记录他的事迹对他的侦缉工作是有好处的，但是他一定要离开伦敦，到苏塞克
　　 斯丘陵地带去研究学问和养蜂，所以很不喜欢继续发表他的经历，而且再三叮咛要我尊重他
　　 的意愿。我对他说，我已经向读者表明，《第二块血迹》发表之后，即将结束我的故事，而
　　 且用这样一个重要的国际性案件做为全书的结尾，是最恰当不过了。所以，最后我得到他的
　　 同意，小心谨慎地给公众讲一讲这个事件。讲述这个故事的时候，有些细节可能显得不很清
　　 楚，请公众谅解我不能不有所保留的苦衷。
　　 某一年秋天，年代不能讲明，请读者原谅，一个星期二的上午，有两位驰名欧洲的客人
　　 来到我们贝克街的简陋住所。一位是著名的倍棱格勋爵，他曾两度担任英国首相。他的鼻梁
　　 高高耸起，两目炯炯发光，相貌显得十分威严。另一位肤色黝黑，面目清秀，举止文雅，虽
　　 然不到中年，可是看样子阅历很广。他就是崔洛尼·候普——负责欧洲事务的大臣，英国最
　　 有前途的家。他们二人并肩坐在堆满文件的长沙发椅上，从他们忧虑而焦急的神色可以
　　 看出，他们到这里来，一定是有要事相求。首相那青筋凸起的双手紧紧握着一把雨伞的象牙
　　 柄，他看看我又看看福尔摩斯，憔悴、冷漠的脸上现出无限的忧愁。那位欧洲事务大臣也心
　　 神不安地时而捻捻胡须，时而又摸摸表链坠。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，今天上午八点钟我发现有重要文件遗失，赶忙告诉了首相。遵从首相
　　 的意见，我们立即来找你。”
　　 “您通知了吗？”
　　 首相说起话来迅速而又果断——众所周知，他总是这样讲话的：“没有，我们不能这样
　　 做。通知就意味着把文件公之于众，这正是我们所不希望的。”
　　 “先生，这是为什么呢？”
　　 “因为这个文件非常重要，一旦公之于众很容易、或者说很可能会引起欧洲形势复杂
　　 化。甚至说战争与和平的问题完全取决于此都不过分。追回文件一事，必须绝对保密，否则
　　 也就毫无必要，因为盗窃文件的目的正是为了公布文件的内容。”
　　 “我明白了。崔洛尼·候普先生，请您准确地叙述一下文件是在什么情况下丢失的。”
　　 “好，福尔摩斯先生，几句话便可以说清楚。我们六天以前收到一封信，是一位外国君
　　 主寄来的。这封信事关重大，因此我不敢放在保险柜里，而是每天带到白厅住宅街我的家
　　 中，锁在卧室的文件箱里。昨天晚上还在那儿，这是千真万确的。我换衣服吃晚饭的时候，
　　 打开箱子，看见文件还在里面。今天上午就不见了。文件箱一整夜全放在我卧室梳妆台镜子
　　 旁边。我和我的妻子睡觉都很轻。我们二人都敢肯定夜里没有人进到屋里，可是文件却不见
　　 了。”
　　 “您什么时候吃的晚饭？”
　　 “七点半。”
　　 “您睡觉前做了哪些事？”
　　 “我的妻子出去看戏了。我一直坐在外屋等她。到十一点半我们才进卧室睡觉。”
　　 “也就是说，文件箱放在那儿有四小时没人看守。”
　　 “除了我自己的仆人和我妻子的女仆早晨可以进屋以外，其他任何时间绝不允许任何人
　　 走进屋内。这两个仆人是可靠的，在我们这里工作已经相当久了。此外，他们二人谁也不可
　　 能知道在我的文件箱里放着比一般公文更重要的东西。”
　　 “谁知道有这封信呢？”
　　 “家里没有一个人知道。”
　　 “您的妻子一定知道了？”
　　 “不，先生。直到今天上午丢了这封信我才对她说。”
　　 首相赞许地点了点头。
　　 他说：“先生，我早就知道您的责任感是很强的。我深信这样一封重要信件的保密问题
　　 会重于家庭中的个人情感。”
　　 这位欧洲事务大臣点了点头。
　　 “蒙您过奖。今天早晨以前我和我的妻子一个字都没有提到过这封信。”
　　 “她会猜出来吗？”
　　 “不，她不会，谁也不会猜出来的。”
　　 “您以前丢过文件吗？”
　　 “没有，先生。”
　　 “在英国还有谁知道有这样一封信呢？”
　　 “昨天通知了各位内阁大臣有这样一封信，每天内阁会议都强调保密，特别在昨天的会
　　 上首相郑重地提醒了大家。天啊，过了几个小时我自己便丢失了这封信！"他用手揪住自己
　　 的头发，神情极为懊丧，就连他那英俊的面容也变得十分难看。我们猛然看出他是个为人热
　　 忱、感情容易冲动、而且非常敏感的人。随后他的脸上又恢复了那种高贵的神情，语气也温
　　 和起来了。
　　 “除了内阁大臣之外，还有两名、也可能是三名官员知道这封信。福尔摩斯先生，我可
　　 以保证在英国再没有别人知道此事了。”
　　 “可是国外呢？”
　　 “我相信除了写信人以外，国外不会有人看见过这封信。我深信写信人没有通过他的大
　　 臣们，这件事不是按照通常的官方渠道办的。”
　　 福尔摩斯考虑了一会儿。
　　 “先生，我不得不问一下，这封信的中心内容是什么，为什么丢失这封信会造成这样重
　　 大的后果？”
　　 这两位家迅速地交换了一下眼色，首相浓眉紧皱。他说：“信封又薄又长，颜色是
　　 淡蓝的。信封上面有红色火漆，漆上盖有蹲伏的狮子的印记。收信人的姓名写得大而醒
　　 目……”
　　 福尔摩斯说：“您说的这些情况很重要，值得重视，可是为了调查，我总要追本溯源。
　　 信的内容是什么？”
　　 “那是最重要的，我不好告诉你，并且我以为这也不必要。如果你能施展你的
　　 能力找到我所说的信封和信，你会受到国家的奖赏，我们将会给你我们权限所允许的最大报
　　 酬。”
　　 歇洛克·福尔摩斯面带微笑，站了起来。
　　 他说：“你们二位是英国最忙的人，可是我这个小小的侦探也很忙，有很多人来访。我
　　 非常遗憾在这件事情上，我不能帮助你们，继续谈下去是浪费时间的。”
　　 首相立即站了起来，两只深陷的眼睛里射出凶光，一种使全体内阁大臣都望而生畏的目
　　 光。他说：“对我这样说话……"可是，他忽然压制住自己的满腔怒火，又重新坐了下来。
　　 有一两分钟，我们都静坐着，没有人讲话。这位年迈的家耸了耸肩，说道：“福尔摩斯
　　 先生，我们可以接受你的条件。你是对的，只有完全信任你，你才能采取行动。”
　　 那位年轻的家说：“我同意您的意见。”
　　 “我相信你和你的同事华生大夫的声誉，所以我将要把全部事情告诉你们。我也相信你
　　 们有强烈的爱国心，因为这件事一旦暴露出来，便会给我们国家带来不可想象的灾难。”
　　 “您可以放心地信任我。”
　　 “一位外国君主，对于我国殖民地发展很快感到愤慨而写了这封信。信是匆匆忙忙写成
　　 的，并且完全出于他个人的意见。调查说明他的大臣们并不知道这件事。同时，这封信写得
　　 也很不合体统，其中有些词句，还带着挑衅性质，发表这封信将会激怒英国人。这会引起轩
　　 然大波，我敢说这封信如果发表，一星期之后将会引起战争。”
　　 福尔摩斯在一张纸条上写了一个名字，交给了首相。
　　 “是的，正是他，这封信不知怎么丢失了，它可能引起几亿英镑的损耗和几十万人的牺
　　 牲。”
　　 “您通知写这封信的人没有？”
　　 “通知了，先生，刚才发了密码电报。”
　　 “或许写信的人希望发表这封信。”
　　 “不，我们有理由认为写信的人已经感到这样做太不慎重，并且过于急躁了。如果这封
　　 信公之于众，对他自己国家的打击要比对英国的打击还沉重。”
　　 “如果是这样的话，公布这封信符合哪些人的利益呢？为什么有人要盗窃并且公布这封
　　 信呢？”
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，这就牵涉到紧张的国际关系了。如果你考虑一下目前欧洲的政
　　 局，就不难看出这封信的动机。整个欧洲大陆是个武装起来的营垒，有两个势均力敌的军事
　　 联盟，大不列颠保持中立，维持着它们之间的平衡。如果英国和某个联盟交战，必然会
　　 使另一联盟的各国占优势，不管它们参战与否。你明白了吗？”
　　 “您讲得很清楚。也就是说，是这位君主的敌人想要得到并且发表这封信，以便使发信
　　 人的国家和我们的国家关系破裂。”
　　 “是的。”
　　 “如果这封信落到某个敌人的手中，他要把这封信交给谁呢？”
　　 “交给欧洲任何一个国家的一位大臣。也许目前持信的人，正乘火车急速前往目的
　　 地。”
　　 崔洛尼·候普先生低下头去，并且大声了一下。首相把手放在他肩上安慰他说：
　　 “亲爱的朋友，你很不幸，谁也不能责怪你。你没有疏忽大意。福尔摩斯先生，事情你全了
　　 解了，你认为该怎么办呢？”
　　 福尔摩斯无可奈何地摇了摇头。
　　 “先生们，你们认为找不到这封信，便会发生战争吗？”
　　 “我认为这是有可能的。”
　　 “那么，先生们，请准备打仗吧。”
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，可是，很难说信一定找不回来了。”
　　 “请考虑一下这些情况，可以想象，夜里十一点半以前，文件已经拿走了，因为候普先
　　 生和他的妻子从那时期直到发现信件丢失为止，这段时间全在屋内。那么信件是在昨天晚上
　　 七点半到十一点半之间被盗走的，很可能是七点半过一点的时候，因为偷信的人知道信在文
　　 件箱内，一定想尽早拿到手。既然如此，那么现在信在哪儿呢？谁也没有理由扣压这封信。
　　 信很快便会传到需要这封信的人手中。我们还有什么机会找到信，或是弄清信在哪儿？所以
　　 信是无法弄到了。”
　　 首相从长沙发椅上站了起来。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，你说的完全合乎逻辑，我感到我们确实是无能为力了。”
　　 “为了研究这件事，我们假设信是女仆或是男仆拿走的……”
　　 “他们都是老佣人，并且经受过考验。”
　　 “我记得您说过，您的卧室是在二楼，并且没有门直接通到楼外，有外人从楼外去那儿
　　 不会不被人看见。所以一定是您家里的人拿走的。那么这个小偷把信件交给谁了呢？交给了
　　 一个国际间谍，或是国际特务，这些人我是熟悉的。有三个人可以说是他们的领头人，我首
　　 先要一个一个地调查，看看他们是否还在。如果有一个人失踪了，尤其是从昨天晚上不见
　　 了，那么，我们便可以得到一点启发，知道文件到哪儿去了。”
　　 欧洲事务大臣问：“他为什么一定要出走呢？他完全可以把信送到各国驻伦敦的大使
　　 馆。”
　　 “我想不会的。这些特务是独立地进行工作，他们和大使馆的关系常常是紧张的。”
　　 首相点点头表示同意。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，我相信你说得有道理。他要把这样宝贵的东西亲手送交总部。你要采
　　 取的步骤是可行的。候普，我们不要因为这件不幸的事情而忽略了其他事务。今天如果有新
　　 的进展，我们将会告诉你，并且请你告诉我们关于你调查的结果。”
　　 两位家向我们告别后，庄严地离开了。
　　 客人走了以后，福尔摩斯默默地点上烟斗，坐下来，沉思了好一会儿。我打开晨报，全
　　 神贯注读着一件昨天夜里发生的骇人听闻的凶杀案。正在这时，我的朋友长叹一声，站了起
　　 来，并把他的烟斗放在壁炉架上。
　　 他说：“只能这样着手解决，没有更好的办法了。情况十分严重，不过还不是完全绝望
　　 的。现在需要我们弄清谁拿走了这封信，可能信还在他手中没有交出去。对于这些人说来，
　　 无非是个钱的问题，我们有英国财政部支付，不怕花钱。只要他肯出卖，我就要买，不管花
　　 多少钱。可以想象到这个偷信的人把持着这封信，看看这一方能付多少钱，再试试另一方。
　　 只有三个人敢冒这样大的危险，奥勃尔斯坦，拉若泽和艾秋阿多·卢卡斯。我要分别去找他
　　 们。”
　　 我向我手中的晨报瞟了一眼。
　　 “是高道尔芬街的艾秋阿多·卢卡斯吗？”
　　 “是的。”
　　 “你见不到他了。”
　　 “为什么？”
　　 “昨天晚上他在家里被杀害了。”
　　 在我们破案的过程中，他常常使我吃惊，而这一次我看到我使他吃了一惊，不免心中十
　　 分高兴。他惊讶地凝视着报纸，然后从我手中夺过去。下面就是他从椅子上站起来的时候，
　　 我正在读的一段。
　　 <<威斯敏斯特教堂谋杀案>>
　　 昨晚在高道尔芬街十六号发生了一起神秘的谋杀案。这条街位于泰晤士河与威斯敏斯特
　　 教堂之间，议院楼顶的倒影几乎可以遮住它，幽静的街道两旁全是十八世纪的旧式住宅。十
　　 六号是栋小巧精致的楼房，伦敦社交界有名的艾秋阿多·卢卡斯先生，在这里已经居住多年
　　 了。他平易近人，曾享有英国最佳业余男高音演员的声誉。卢卡斯先生，现年三十四岁，未
　　 婚，家中有一名女管家波林格尔太太和一名男仆米尔顿。女管家住在阁楼上，很早便就寝
　　 了。男仆当晚不在家，外出探望住在汉莫尔斯密的一位朋友。晚十点以后，家中只有卢卡斯
　　 先生一人，此时发生了什么事情尚待查清，到了十一点三刻，巴瑞特巡逻经过高道尔芬
　　 街，看到十六号的大门半开着。他敲了敲门，却没有人答应。他看见前面的屋子里有灯光，
　　 便走进过道又继续敲门，仍然没有动静。于是他推门走了进去，只见屋里乱得不象样子，家
　　 具几乎全都翻倒在屋子的一边，一把椅子倒在屋子正中央。死于非命的房主倒在椅子旁，一
　　 只手仍然抓着椅子腿，一定是刀子扎进他的心脏后，他当即身亡。杀人的刀子是把弯曲的印
　　 度匕首，是原来挂在墙上作为装饰品的东方武器。凶杀的动机不象是抢劫，因为屋内的贵重
　　 物品并没有丢失。艾秋阿多·卢卡斯先生很有名，同时也很受大家喜爱，所以他的悲惨而神
　　 秘的死亡一定会引其他众多朋友们的深切关心和同情。
　　 福尔摩斯过了一会儿问：“华生，你认为这是怎么一回事？”
　　 “这不过是个偶然的巧合。”
　　 “巧合！他就是我们刚才说过的三个人中最可能登台表演的人物，正在这场戏上演的时
　　 刻，他惨死了。从情况看来大半不会是巧合，当然还不能说得很准确。亲爱的华生，这两件
　　 事可能是互相关联的，一定是互相关联的。我们正是要找出它们互相之间的关系。”
　　 “现在一定全知道了！”
　　 “不。他们只知道他们在高道尔芬街所看到的。至于在白厅住宅街发生的事，他们肯定
　　 不知道，将来也不会知道。只有我们两件事全知道，并且能够弄清这两件事之间的关系。不
　　 管怎么说，有一点使我怀疑卢卡斯，这就是：从威斯敏斯特教堂区的高道尔芬街到白厅住宅
　　 街步行只需要几分钟。可是，我说的其他两个间谍都住在伦敦西区的尽头。因此，卢卡斯要
　　 比其他二人容易和欧洲事务大臣的家人建立联系或是得到消息，虽然这件事本身是小事，但
　　 是考虑到作案时间只发生在几小时之内，那么这一点也许就是重要的了。喂！谁来了？”
　　 赫德森太太拿着托盘走进来，盘内有一张妇女的名片。福尔摩斯看了看名片，好象看到
　　 一线希望，又随手把名片递给了我。他对赫德森太太说：“请希尔达·崔洛尼·候普夫人上
　　 楼来。”
　　 在这间简陋的房间里，那天早上我们接待了两位名人之后，一位伦敦最可爱的妇女又光
　　 临了。我常听人说起倍尔明斯特公爵的幼女的美貌，但是无论是别人对她的赞美还是她本人
　　 的照片，都不曾使我料到她竟长得这样纤柔婀娜，容貌是那样艳丽无比。然而，这样一位妇
　　 人，在那个秋天的上午给我们的第一个印象，却不是美丽。她的双颊虽然十分可爱，但是由
　　 于感情激动而显得苍白；双眼虽然明亮，但是显得急躁不安；为了尽力控制自己，她那薄薄
　　 的嘴唇也紧紧地闭拢着。当她笔直地站在门边时，最先映入我们眼帘的不是她的无比美丽而
　　 是她的极度恐惧。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，我丈夫来过这里吗？”
　　 “不错，太太，他来过了。”
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，我请求您不要告诉他我来过。”
　　 福尔摩斯冷淡地点了点头，并且指着椅子请她坐下。
　　 “夫人，您使我很为难。请您坐下讲您有什么要求，不过我恐怕不能无条件地答应一
　　 切。”
　　 她走到屋子另一边，背对着窗户坐下来。那风度个皇后，身材苗条，姿态优雅，富
　　 有女性的魅力。
　　 她的两只戴着白手套的手时而握在一起，时而松开，她说：“福尔摩斯先生，我愿意对
　　 您开诚布公，同时希望您对我也能十分坦率。我和我丈夫几乎在所有的事情上是完全互相信
　　 任的，只不过有一件事例外，那就是问题。在这方面他总是守口如瓶，什么也不告诉
　　 我。现在我才知道我们家中昨夜发生了很不幸的事。我知道丢失了一个文件。但是因为这是
　　 个问题，我丈夫就没有对我完全讲清楚。事情很重要，非常重要，我应该彻底了解这件
　　 事。除了几位家之外，您是唯一了解情况的人，福尔摩斯先生，我请求您告诉我出了什
　　 么事，可能导致什么结果。福尔摩斯先生，请告诉我详情。请您不要因为怕损害我丈夫的利
　　 益而不肯对我说，因为只有充分相信我，他的利益才能有所保证，这一点他早晚是会明白
　　 的，请您告诉我究竟丢失的是什么文件呢？”
　　 “夫人，您所问的是不能说的。”
　　 她叹了口气并用双手遮住了脸。
　　 “夫人，您要明白，我只能这样做。您的丈夫认为不应当让您知道这件事；那么我，由
　　 于职业的缘故，并且在发誓保守秘密之后，知道了全部事实，难道我能随便说出他不允许讲
　　 的话吗？您还是应该去问他本人。”
　　 “我问过他。我到您这儿来是万不得已的。福尔摩斯先生，您既然不肯明确地告诉我，
　　 那么您能够给我一点启发吗？这样对我也会很有帮助的。”
　　 “夫人，这一点启发指的是什么呢？”
　　 “我丈夫的生涯是否会因为这个意外事件而受到严重的影响呢？”
　　 “除非事情得到纠正，否则是会产生严重后果的。”
　　 “啊！"她深深地吸了一口气，好象疑难全解决了似的。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，我还有一个问题。从我丈夫对于此事刚一显出震惊起，我便明白，丢
　　 失这个文件将会在全国引起可怕的后果。”
　　 “如果他这样说，我当然不会有异议。”
　　 “丢失文件所造成的后果是什么性质的呢？”
　　 “不，夫人，您所问的，不是我应该回答的。”
　　 “那么我不再耽误您的时间了。福尔摩斯先生，我不能责怪您讲话过于严谨，而我相信
　　 您也不会说我不好，因为我希望分担他的忧虑，虽然他不愿意这样做。我再一次请求您不要
　　 对他说我来过。”
　　 她走到门口，又回头看了我们一下，她那美丽而又焦虑的面容又一次留给我深深的印
　　 象，还有她那受惊的目光和紧闭着的嘴。她走出了房门。
　　 起初的裙子摩擦的窸窣声渐渐听不见了，接着前门砰然一响，声音完全消失了。这时，
　　 福尔摩斯微笑着说：“华生，女性属于你的研究范围。这位漂亮的夫人在耍什么把戏呢？她
　　 的真正意图是什么呢？”
　　 “当然，意图她讲得很清楚，而她的焦虑也是很自然的。”
　　 “哼！华生，你要想想她的表情、她的态度、她的压抑着的焦虑不安和她一再提出的问
　　 题。你知道她是出身于一个不肯轻易表露感情的社会阶层。”
　　 “的确，她的样子是很激动的。”
　　 “你还要记住，她一再恳切地对我们说，只有她了解到一切，才对她丈夫有利。她说这
　　 话是什么意思呢？而且你一定注意到了，她坐在那儿设法使阳光只照到她的背部，她不想让
　　 我们看清她的面部表情。”
　　 “是这样的，她特别挑了那把背光的椅子坐下。”
　　 “妇女们的心理活动是很难猜测的。正是出于同样的原因，我怀疑过玛尔给特的那位妇
　　 女，这你大概还记得，从她鼻子上没有擦粉而得到启发，终于解决了问题。你怎能这样轻信
　　 呢？有时她们一个细小的举动包含了很大的意义，一个发针或一把卷发火剪就可以显露出她
　　 们的反常。华生，早安。”
　　 “你要出去？”
　　 “是的，我要去高道尔芬街和我们苏格兰场的朋友们一起消磨今天上午。我们的问题和
　　 艾秋阿多·卢卡斯有直接关系，不过，究竟采取什么方法解决，我现在是毫无办法。事情还
　　 没有发生便得出看法，这样做是极大的错误。我的好华生，请你值班接待客人，我尽量回来
　　 和你一起吃午饭。”
　　 从那天算起，三天过去了，福尔摩斯一直很沉默，凡是他的朋友们都知道他在沉思默
　　 想，而外人却以为他很沮丧。他出出进进，不停地吸烟，拿起小提琴拉两下又丢开，不时坠
　　 入幻想，不按时吃饭，也不回答我随时提出的问题。显然，他的调查进行得很不顺利。关于
　　 这个案件，他什么也不说，我只是从报纸上知道一些片断，例如逮捕了死者的仆人约翰·米
　　 尔顿，但是随后又释放了。验尸官提出申诉说这是一件蓄意谋杀案，但是弄不清楚案情以及
　　 当事人。杀人动机不明。屋内有很多贵重物品，都丝毫未动，死者的文件也没有翻动。详细
　　 地检查了死者的文稿书信等，得知他热衷于研究国际问题，非常健谈，是个出色的语言
　　 学家，往来信件很多，他和几个国家的主要领导人都很熟悉，但是从他抽屉里的文件中没有
　　 发现值得怀疑之处。至于他和女人的关系，很杂乱，但都交往不深。他认识许多女人，但是
　　 女朋友很少，也没有一个为他所爱。他没有特殊的生活习惯，他的行为循规蹈矩。他的死亡
　　 是很神秘的，也可能无法解决这个问题。
　　 至于逮捕仆人约翰·米尔顿，那不过是沮丧失望之余的一点措施，以免人们议论当局无
　　 所行动。这个仆人那天夜里到汉莫尔斯密去看望朋友，案发时不在现场的证据是充分的。从
　　 他动身回家的时间推算，他到达威斯敏斯特教堂的时候，还没有人发现这件凶杀案。但是他
　　 解释说当晚夜色很好，他步行了一段路程，所以，他是十二点到家的，到家后就被这件意外
　　 的惨案吓得惊惶失措。他和他主人的关系一直很好。在这个仆人的箱子里发现了一些死者的
　　 物品，引人注目的是一盒刮脸刀，但是他说这是主人送他的，而且女管家也证实了此事。卢
　　 卡斯雇用米尔顿已有三年，值得注意的是卢卡斯没有带米尔顿去过欧洲，有时卢卡斯在巴黎
　　 一住便是三个月，而米尔顿只是留在高道尔芬街看家。至于女管家，出事的夜里，她什么也
　　 没听到，如果有客人来的话，她说也是主人自己去请进来的。
　　 我从报纸上一连三个上午都没有看到侦破此案的消息。如果福尔摩斯知道更多的情况的
　　 话，至少他没有讲出来。但是，他告诉我，侦探雷斯垂德把所掌握的情况都告诉了他，我也
　　 相信他能够迅速了解破案的进展情况。直到第四天上午，报上登载了从巴黎拍来的一封很长
　　 的电报，似乎就解决了全部问题。电文如下：
　　 巴黎的已经有所发现〔据《每日电讯报》报道〕，这可以揭示艾秋阿多·卢卡斯
　　 先生惨死之谜。读者或许还记得，卢卡斯先生是本周星期一夜间在高道尔芬街自己的住室内
　　 被人用匕首行刺致死的。他的男仆曾受到怀疑，后经查证因他不在犯罪现场而释放。昨日有
　　 几名仆人向巴黎当局报告他们的主人亨利·弗那依太太精神失常。她居住在奥地利街某
　　 处的一栋小房子里。经有关卫生部门检查，证实弗那依太太长期以来患有危险的躁狂症。据
　　 调查，弗那依太太本周星期二自伦敦归来，有证据说明品行踪与威斯敏斯特教堂凶杀案有
　　 关。经验证和多方核对照片之后，当局认为Ｍ·亨利·弗那依与艾秋阿多·卢卡斯，事实上
　　 是一个人，死者由于某种原因，分别在巴黎和伦敦轮流居住。弗那依太太是克里奥尔人，性
　　 情古怪，很易激动，因忌妒而转为颠狂，据估计病人可能由于颠狂发作而持匕首行凶，以致
　　 轰动整个伦敦。目前，对于星期一晚间病人的全部活动尚未查清。但是，星期二清晨，在查
　　 林十字街火车站上，有一名容貌酷似她的妇女，由于外貌奇异、举止狂暴而引仆人们的特别
　　 注意。因此，有关人士认为或者是病人因处于颠狂状态而杀了人，或者是由于行凶杀人，致
　　 使病人颠狂症复发。目前，她尚不能连贯地叙述她的过去，并且医生们认为使她恢复理智是
　　 无望的。有人证明，有一位妇女，本周星期一晚上在高道尔芬街曾一连几个小时地凝视着那
　　 栋房子，她也许就是弗那依太太。
　　 福尔摩斯快吃完早饭的时候，我给他读了这段报道，并说：“福尔摩斯，你对于这段报
　　 道怎样看呢？”
　　 他站起来，在屋里来回踱步，他说：“华生，你真能把话闷在心中不说。过去三天里我
　　 没给你讲什么，是因为没有什么可说的。现在从巴黎来的这个消息，对我们同样没有多大用
　　 处。”
　　 “和卢卡斯之死总还有较大的关系吧？”
　　 “卢卡斯的死只是个意外的事件，它和我们的真正目标——找到文件并使欧洲避免一场
　　 灾难相比，实在是小事一件。过去三天里唯一重要的事情，是什么事也没发生。这两天我几
　　 乎每过一小时就收到一次政府方面的报告，可以肯定整个欧洲，不管在哪里，目前都没有不
　　 安的迹象。如果这封信丢失了，不，不可能丢失，如果丢失了，信又在哪儿呢？谁拿着这封
　　 信呢？为什么要扣压这封信呢？这个问题是一把锤子，日夜敲着我的脑子。卢卡斯的死
　　 和丢失信件，这真是巧合吗？他收没收到过信呢？如果收到了，为什么他的文件里却没有
　　 呢？是不是他的疯狂的妻子把信拿走了呢？这样的话，信是不是在她巴黎的家中呢？我怎样
　　 才能搜到这封信而不引起巴黎的怀疑呢？亲爱的华生，在这个案子上，不但罪犯和我们
　　 为难，连法律也和我们作对。人人都妨碍我们，可是事情又很重大。如果我能顺利地解决这
　　 个案子，那将是我平生事业的最大光荣。啊，又有最新的情况！"他匆忙地看了一眼刚刚交
　　 到他手中的来信，说：“好象雷斯垂德已经查出重要的情况，华生，带上帽子，我们一同走
　　 到威斯敏斯特教堂区去。”
　　 这是我第一次到现场，这栋房子比较高，外表显得很陈旧，但是布局严谨，美观大方，
　　 结实耐用，它带着十八世纪的风格。雷斯垂德正由前面窗户那儿往外张望，一个高个子
　　 打开门，请我们进去，雷斯垂德走上前来热情地表示欢迎。我们走进去一看，除了地毯上有
　　 一块难看的、形状不规则的血迹以外，什么痕迹都没有。一小块方形地毯，摆在屋子正中
　　 央，四周是由小方木块拼成的美丽的旧式地板，地板擦得很光滑。壁炉上面的墙上挂满缴获
　　 的武器，行凶的武器就是墙上挂着的一把匕首，靠窗户放着一张贵重的写字台，屋里的一切
　　 摆设如油画、小地毯、以及墙上的装饰品，无不显得精美而豪华。
　　 雷斯垂德问：“看到巴黎的消息了吗？”
　　 福尔摩斯点了点头。
　　 “我们的法国朋友这次似乎抓住了要害，他们说得有道理，当时是她敲门。这是意外的
　　 来客，因为卢卡斯很少和外界接触，因为卢卡斯不能让她待在街上，所以才开门让她进去。
　　 弗那依太太告诉卢卡斯她一直在找他，并且责备了他。事情总是互相联系着的，匕首挂在墙
　　 上，所以，用品来很方便。但是并不是一下就刺死了，你看椅子全倒在一边，而且卢卡斯手
　　 里还拿着一把椅子，他想用椅子挡开卢卡斯太太。看来事情已经很清楚了，就象发生在眼前
　　 一样。”
　　 福尔摩斯睁大了眼睛，看着雷斯垂德。
　　 “为什么还要找我呢？”
　　 “啊，那是另外一回事，这是一件小事，但是你会感兴趣的，因为它很奇怪，正象你所
　　 说的是反常的。这和主要事实无关，至少从表面看来无关。”
　　 “那么，到底是怎么一回事？”
　　 “你知道，这一类案件发生以后，我们总是小心翼翼地保护现场，派人日夜看守，不准
　　 动任何东西，也确实没有人动过什么东西。今天上午我们把这个人埋葬了，调查也进行完
　　 了，所以我们想到屋子也要打扫一下。这块地毯没有固定在地板上，只是摆在那里。我们碰
　　 巧掀了一下地毯，发现……”
　　 “什么？你发现……”
　　 福尔摩斯的面部表情由于焦急而显得有些紧张。
　　 “我敢说一百年你也猜不出我们发现了什么。你看见地毯上的那块血迹了吗？大部分血
　　 迹已经浸透过地毯了吧？”
　　 “应该是这样。”
　　 “可是白色的地板上相应的地方却没有血迹，对这一点你不感到很奇怪吗？”
　　 “没有血迹！可是，一定——”
　　 “尽管你说一定应该有，可是，事实上就是没有。”
　　 他握住地毯的一角，一下子翻了过来，以便证实他所说的。
　　 “不，地毯下面和上面的血迹是同样的，一定会留有痕迹。”
　　 雷斯垂德弄得这位著名的侦探迷惑不解，因而高兴得格格地笑了起来。
　　 “现在我来给你看谜底。是有第二块血迹，但是和第一块位置不一样。你可以看得很清
　　 楚。”
　　 他一面说着一面把地毯的另一角掀开，立刻，这一块洁白的地板上露出一片紫红色的血
　　 迹。"福尔摩斯先生，你看这是怎么一回事呢？”
　　 “很简单，这两块血迹本来是一致的，但是有人转动了地毯。地毯是方形的，而且没有
　　 钉住，所以容易移动。”
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，我们不需要你告诉我们地毯一定转动过了。这是很明显的，因为
　　 地毯上的血迹是应该正好盖住地板上的血迹。我要知道的是，谁移动了地毯，为什么？”
　　 我从福尔摩斯呆滞的神情上看出他内心十分激动。
　　 过了一会儿，他问道：“雷斯垂德，门口的那个是不是一直看守着这个现场呢？”
　　 “是的。”
　　 “请按照我的意见做，你仔细盘问他一下。不过，不要当着我们的面。把他带到后面的
　　 屋里，你单独和他谈，他也许会承认。问问他为什么居然敢让别人进来，而且还把他单独留
　　 在屋里。不要问他是不是让人进来了，你就说你知道有人进来过，逼问他，告诉他只有坦白
　　 才有可能得到谅解。一定要按照我说的去做！”
　　 雷斯垂德走了，福尔摩斯这才欢喜若狂地对我说：“华生，你瞧吧！"他掩饰不住内心
　　 的激动，精神大振，一反刚才平静的神态。他迅捷地拉开地毯，立即匍匐在地板上，并且试
　　 图抓平地板的每块方木板。他用指甲不断地掀着木板，忽然，有一块木板活动了。它象箱子
　　 盖一样，从有活页的地方向上翻起。下面有一个小黑洞，福尔摩斯急忙把手伸进去，但是，
　　 抽回手时，他又生气又失望地哼了一声。洞里是空的。
　　 “快，华生，快，把地毯放好！"刚刚扣上那块木板，并把地毯放好，便听见了雷斯垂
　　 德在过道里的说话声音。他看见福尔摩斯懒散地靠着壁炉架，无所事事，显得很有耐心，一
　　 边用手遮住嘴，打着呵欠。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，对不起，让你久等了。恐怕你会不耐烦了吧？他已经承认了。麦克弗
　　 逊到这儿来，让这两位先生听听你办的好事。”
　　 那个高个子，羞得满脸通红，一脸后悔的样子，悄悄溜进屋来。
　　 “先生，我确实是没想做坏事。一位年轻的妇女，昨天晚上走到大门前，她弄错了门牌
　　 号码。我们就谈了起来。一个人整天在这儿守着，实在很寂寞。”
　　 “那么，后来怎样呢？”
　　 “她想看看在什么地方发生的凶杀。她说她在报上看到了。她是个很体面又很会说话的
　　 女人。我想让她看看没有什么关系。她一看见地毯上的血迹，立刻就跌倒在地板上，躺在那
　　 儿象死了一样。我跑到后面弄了点水来，但还是没能让她醒过来。我就到拐角的'常春藤商
　　 店'买了一点白兰地，可是等我拿回白兰地以后，这位妇女已经醒过来，并且走掉了。我想
　　 她可能是感到不好意思，不愿意再见我。”
　　 “那块地毯怎么会移动了呢？”
　　 “我回来的时候，地毯是弄得有些不平了。你想，她倒在地毯上，而地毯贴着光滑的地
　　 板又没有固定住。后来我就把地毯摆好。”
　　 雷斯垂德严肃地说：“麦克弗逊，这是个教训，你欺骗不了我。你一定认为你玩忽职守
　　 不会被发现，可是我一看到地毯马上就知道有人到屋里来过了。没丢什么东西，这是你的运
　　 气，不然的话，你少不了要吃点苦头的。福尔摩斯先生，为了这样一件小事，把你请来，真
　　 是对不起。不过，我以为两块血迹不在一起或许会使你感兴趣。”
　　 “不错，我很感兴趣。，这位妇女只来过一次吗？”
　　 “是的，只来过一次。”
　　 “她是谁？”
　　 “我不知道她的名字。她看了广告要应聘去打字的，走错了门，一位很温柔很和蔼的年
　　 轻妇女。”
　　 “个子高吗？漂亮吗？”
　　 “一点不错，她是个长得很好看的年轻妇女，可以说是漂亮的。也许有人要说她很漂
　　 亮。她说：'警官，请让我看一眼！'她有办法，会哄人。我本来想让她只从窗户探头看看，
　　 那是没有什么关系的。”
　　 “她打扮得怎么样？”
　　 “很素雅，穿着一件拖到脚面的长袍。”
　　 “在什么时间？”
　　 “天刚刚黑。我买白兰地回来的时候，人们都在点灯。”
　　 福尔摩斯说：“很好。走吧，华生，我们还要到别处去，有一件很重要的事情。”
　　 我们离开这栋房子的时候，雷斯垂德仍然留在前面的屋子里，那位悔过的给我们开
　　 了门。福尔摩斯走到台阶上，转过身来，手里还拿着一件东西。这位目不转睛地凝视
　　 着，脸上露出吃惊的样子，喊道：“天啊！"福尔摩斯把食指贴在嘴唇上，表示不让说
　　 话，然后又伸手把这件东西放进胸前的口袋里，得意洋洋地走到街上，这时他放声笑了。他
　　 说：“妙极了！我的朋友，你瞧吧，最后一场的幕布已经拉开了。你放心，不会有战争，崔
　　 洛尼·候普先生的光辉前程不会受到挫折，那位不慎重的君主不会因为这封信受到惩罚，首
　　 相不必担心欧洲情况会复杂化。只要我们用一点策略，谁也不会因为这件不幸的大事而有半
　　 点倒霉。”
　　 我心中对于这样一位特殊人物，感到十分的羡慕。
　　 我不禁喊道：“你把问题解决了？”
　　 “华生，还不能这样说。还有几点疑问仍象以前一样没有弄清。但是我们了解的情况，
　　 已经够多的了，如果还是弄不清其他的问题，那是我们自己的过失。现在我们直接去白厅住
　　 宅街，把事情结束一下。”
　　 当我们来到欧洲事务大臣官邸的时候，歇洛克·福尔摩斯要找的却是希尔达·崔洛
　　 尼·候普夫人。我们走进了上午用的起居室。
　　 这位夫人愤懑地红着脸说：“福尔摩斯先生！您实在太不公平，不宽厚了。我已经解释
　　 过了，我希望我到您那儿去的事要保密，免得我丈夫说我干涉他的事情。可是您却到这里
　　 来，借此表示您和我有事务联系，有意损害我的名声。”
　　 “夫人，不幸的是我没有别的办法。我既然受托找回这件非常重要的信件，只能请求您
　　 把信交到我手中。”
　　 这位夫人突然站了起来，她美丽而丰润的脸骤然变了颜色。她的眼睛凝视着前方，身体
　　 摇晃起来，我以为她要晕倒。她强打精神，竭力使自己保持镇定，她脸上各种复杂的表情一
　　 时完全被强烈的愤懑和惊异所掩盖住了。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，您——您侮辱我。”
　　 “夫人，请冷静一点，这些手法没有用，您还是交出信来。”
　　 她向呼唤仆人的手铃那儿奔去。
　　 “管家会请您出去的。”
　　 “希尔达夫人，不必摇铃。如果您摇铃，我为了避免流言所做的一切诚恳的努力将会前
　　 功尽弃。您交出信来，一切都会好转。如果您和我协作，我可以把一切都安排好。如果您与
　　 我为敌，那么我就要揭发您。”
　　 她无所畏惧地站在那儿，显得非常威严。她的眼睛盯着福尔摩斯的眼睛，好象是要把福
　　 尔摩斯看透似的。她的手放在手铃上，但是她克制着自己没有摇。
　　 “您想要吓唬我，福尔摩斯先生。您到这里来威胁一个妇女，这不是大丈夫应该做的
　　 事。您说您了解一些情况，您了解的是什么呢？”
　　 “夫人，请您先坐下。您如果摔倒会伤了自己的。您不坐下，我不讲话。”
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，我给您五分钟。”
　　 “希尔达夫人，一分钟就够了。我知道您去过艾秋阿多·卢卡斯那儿，您给了他一封
　　 信；我也知道昨天晚上您又巧妙地去过那间屋子；我并且知道您怎样从地毯下面隐蔽的地方
　　 取出这封信。”
　　 她凝视着福尔摩斯，脸色灰白，有两次她气喘吁吁，欲言又止。
　　 过了一会儿，她大声说：“您疯了，福尔摩斯先生，您疯了。”
　　 福尔摩斯从口袋中取出一小块硬纸片。这是从像片上剪下来的面孔部分。
　　 福尔摩斯说：“我一直带着这个，因为我想也许有用。那个已经认出这张照片
　　 了。”
　　 她喘了一口气，回身靠在椅子上。
　　 “希尔达夫人，信在您的手中，事情还来得及纠正。我不想给您找麻烦。我把这封丢失
　　 的信还给您丈夫，我的责任就完成了。希望您接受我的意见，并且对我要讲实话。这是您最
　　 后的机会。”
　　 她的勇其实在令人赞叹。事已至此，她还不想承认失败。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，我再和您说一遍，您简直是荒谬。”
　　 福尔摩斯从椅子上站起来。
　　 “希尔达夫人，我为您感到遗憾。我为您尽了最大的努力。这一切全白费了。”
　　 福尔摩斯摇了一下铃。管家走了进来。
　　 “崔洛尼·候普先生在家吗？”
　　 “先生，他十二点三刻回到家来。”
　　 福尔摩斯看了看他的表，说：“还有一刻钟。我要等候他。”
　　 管家刚一走出屋门，希尔达夫人便跪倒在福尔摩斯脚下，她摊开两手，仰头看着福尔摩
　　 斯，眼里满含泪水。
　　 她苦苦地哀求说：“饶恕我吧，福尔摩斯先生，饶恕我吧！看在上帝的面上，不要告诉
　　 我的丈夫！我多么爱他啊！我不愿意让他心里有一点不愉快的事情，可是这件事会伤透他的
　　 心的。”
　　 福尔摩斯扶起这位夫人。"太好了，夫人，您终于明白过来了。时间已经很紧迫了。信
　　 在哪儿？”
　　 她急忙走到一个写字台旁，拿出钥匙开开抽屉，取出一封信，信封很长，颜色是蓝的。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，信在这儿，我发誓没有拆开过。”
　　 福尔摩斯咕哝着说：“怎样把信放回去呢？快，快，我们一定要想个办法！文件箱在哪
　　 儿？”
　　 “仍然在他的卧室里。”
　　 “多么幸运啊！夫人，快把箱子拿到这儿来！”
　　 过了一会儿，她手里拿着一个红色的扁箱子走来。
　　 “您以前怎样打开的？您有一把复制的钥匙？是的，您当然有。开开箱子！”
　　 希尔达从怀里拿出一把小钥匙。箱子开了，里面塞满文件。福尔摩斯把这封信塞到靠下
　　 面的一个文件里，夹在两页之间。关上了箱子，锁好之后，夫人又把它送回卧室。
　　 福尔摩斯说：“现在一切就绪，只需要等候你的丈夫了。还有十分钟。希尔达夫人，我
　　 出了很大的气力来保护您，您应该用这十分钟坦率地告诉我，您干这种不寻常的事的真正目
　　 的是什么？”
　　 这位夫人大声地说：“福尔摩斯先生，我把一切全告诉您。我宁愿把我的右手切断，也
　　 不愿意让我丈夫有片刻的烦恼！恐怕整个伦敦再不会有一个女人象我这样爱自己的丈夫了，
　　 可是如果他知道了我所做的一切，尽管我是的，他也决不会原谅我的。因为他非常重视
　　 他的名望，所以他不会忘记或是原谅别人的过失的，福尔摩斯先生，您一定要搭救我！我的
　　 幸福，他的幸福，以及我们的生命全都受到威胁！”
　　 “夫人，快讲，时间很短了！”
　　 “先生，问题出在我的一封信上，我结婚前写的一封不慎重的信，愚蠢的信，是在我的
　　 感情一时冲动下写的。我的信没有恶意，可是我丈夫会认为这是犯罪。他如果读了这封信，
　　 他便再也不会信任我了。我曾经想把这件事忘掉。可是后来卢卡斯这个家伙写信告诉我，信
　　 在他的手中，并且要交给我的丈夫。我恳求他宽大为怀。他说只要我从文件箱里把他要的文
　　 件拿给他，他便可以把信还给我。我丈夫的办公室里有间谍，告诉了卢卡斯有这样一封信。
　　 他向我保证我丈夫不会因此受到损害。福尔摩斯先生，您设身处地地想一想，我应该怎么办
　　 呢？”
　　 “把一切都告诉您丈夫。”
　　 “不行，福尔摩斯先生，不行！一方面是导致幸福的毁灭，另一方面是件非常可怕的
　　 事，去拿我丈夫的文件。可是在问题上我不知道会有什么后果，而爱情和信任的重要
　　 性，我是十分理解的。福尔摩斯先生，我拿了文件！我取了钥匙的模子。卢卡斯给了我一把
　　 复制的钥匙。我打开文件箱，取出文件并且送到高道尔芬街。”
　　 “到那儿的情况怎么样？”
　　 “我按照约定的方式敲门，他开了门，我随他走进屋中，可是大厅的门我没有关严，因
　　 为我怕和这个人单独在一起。我记得我进去的时候，外面有一个妇女。我们的事情很快办完
　　 了。我的那封信摆在他的桌子上。我把文件交给了他，他还给了我那封信。正在这时候，房
　　 门那里有声音，又听见门道有脚步声，卢卡斯赶忙掀平地毯，把文件塞到一个藏东西的地
　　 方，然后又盖上地毯。
　　 “这以后的事简直象是个恶梦。我看到一个妇女，黑黝黝的面孔，神色颠狂，还听到她
　　 讲话的声音，她讲的是法语，她说：'我没有白等，终于让我发现了你和她在一起！'他二人
　　 很凶狠地搏斗起来。卢卡斯手里拿着一把椅子，那个妇女手中有把闪亮的刀子。当时的场面
　　 可怕极了，我立即冲出屋子去，离开了那栋房子。第二天早上我便在报纸上看到了卢卡斯被
　　 杀死的消息。那天晚上我很高兴，因为我拿回了我的信。可是我没有想到这会带来什么后
　　 果。
　　 “只是第二天早上我才明白，我不过用新的苦恼替代了旧的。我丈夫失去文件后的焦虑
　　 使我心神不安。我当时几乎就要跪倒在他脚下，向他讲清是我拿的文件。可是这意味着我要
　　 说出过去的事。我那天早上到您那儿去是想弄清我犯的错误的严重性。从我拿走文件那一刻
　　 起，我就一直想怎样把文件弄回来。要不是卢卡斯当时藏起了那封信，我也就不会知道信藏
　　 在什么地方。我怎样走进屋子呢？我接连两天去看了那个地方，可是门总是关着。昨天晚上
　　 我做了最后一次尝试。我怎么拿到的，忽已经听说过了。我把文件带回来，想要销毁，因为
　　 我没有办法还给我丈夫这个文件而又不必承认错误。天啊，我听到他在楼梯上的脚步声
　　 了！”
　　 这位欧洲事务大臣激动地冲进屋内。
　　 他说：“有什么消息，福尔摩斯先生，有什么消息？”
　　 “有点希望。”
　　 他的脸上露出惊喜的神情。"谢谢上帝！首相正来和我一起吃午饭。他可以来听听吧？
　　 他的神经是非常坚强的，可是我知道自从出了这件事以后，他几乎没有睡过觉。雅可布，你
　　 把首相请到楼上来。亲爱的，我想这是一件上的事情，过几分钟我们就到餐厅和你一起
　　 吃午饭。”
　　 首相的举止是镇静的，但是从他激动的目光和不停地颤动着的大手上，我知道他也象他
　　 的年轻同事一样十分激动。
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，我听说你有好消息？”
　　 我的朋友回答：“到目前为止，还是没有弄清。可能失落文件的地方，我全调查过了，
　　 没有找到，但是我敢肯定不必耽心有危险。”
　　 “福尔摩斯先生，那是不行的。我们不能永远生活在火山顶上。我们一定要把事情弄个
　　 水落石出才行。”
　　 “有找到文件的希望，所以我才来到这里。我越想越觉得文件不会离开您的家。”
　　 “福尔摩斯先生！”
　　 “如果文件拿出去了，现在一定已经公布了。”
　　 “会有人拿走文件而只是为了要藏在他家里的吗？”
　　 “我不相信有人把信拿走了。”
　　 “那么信怎么会不在文件箱里呢？”
　　 “因为我知道信不在别处。”
　　 “我简直不能相信我的眼睛了！"他急速地走到门旁。"我的妻子在哪儿呢？我要告诉她
　　 事情顺利结束了，希尔达！希尔达！"我们听到他在楼梯上呼喊的声音。
　　 首相望着福尔摩斯，眼球骨碌碌地转着。
　　 他说：“先生，这里面一定有什么问题。文件怎么会又回到箱子里了呢？”
　　 福尔摩斯笑着避开了那一对好奇的眼睛。
　　 “我们也有我们的外交秘密。"他一面说着，一面拿起帽子，转身向屋门走去。

　　I HAD intended "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange" to be the last of those exploits of my friend, Mr. Sherlock 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 Mr. 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 Bellinger, 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 Honourable Trelawney 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 Premier's thin, blue-veined hands were clasped tightly over the ivory head of his umbrella, and his gaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily from Holmes to me. The European Secretary pulled nervously at his moustache and fidgeted with the seals of his watch-chain.
　　
　　"When I discovered my loss, Mr. Holmes, which was at eight o'clock this morning, I at once informed the Prime 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 the 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 document in question is 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, Mr. Trelawney Hope, I should be much obliged if you would tell me exactly the circumstances under which this document disappeared."
　　
　　"That can be done in a very few words, Mr. Holmes. The letter -- for it was a letter from a foreign potentate -- was received six days ago. It was of such importance that I have never left it in my safe, but I 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 beside 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. And yet I repeat that the paper is gone."
　　
　　"What time did you dine?"
　　
　　"Half-past seven."
　　
　　"How long was it before you went to bed?"
　　
　　"My wife had gone to the theatre. 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 would rise 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, Mr. Holmes, she could not have guessed -- nor could anyone have guessed."
　　
　　"Have you lost any documents before?"
　　
　　"No, sir."
　　
　　"Who is there in England who did know of 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. Good 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 members of the Cabinet there are two, or possibly three, departmental officials who know of the letter. No one else in England, Mr. 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 should have such momentous consequences?"
　　
　　The two statesmen exchanged a quick glance and the Premier's shaggy eyebrows gathered in a frown.
　　
　　"Mr. Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of pale blue colour. There is a seal of red wax stamped with a crouching lion. It is addressed in large, bold handwriting to ---"
　　
　　"I fear, sir," said Holmes, "that, interesting and indeed essential as these details are, my inquiries must go more to the root of things. What WAS the letter?"
　　
　　"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 powers 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."
　　
　　Sherlock Holmes rose with a 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, Mr. 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, sir," said the younger statesman.
　　
　　"Then I will tell you, relying entirely upon your honour and that of your colleague, Dr. 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 potentate who has been ruffled by some recent Colonial developments of this country. It has been written hurriedly and upon his own responsibility entirely. Inquiries 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 ferment, 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 Premier.
　　
　　"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 the sender?"
　　
　　"Yes, sir, a cipher telegram has been despatched."
　　
　　"Perhaps he desires the publication of the letter."
　　
　　"No, sir, we have strong reason to believe that he already understands that he has 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 anyone desire to steal it or to publish it?"
　　
　　"There, Mr. 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 would assure the supremacy of the other confederacy, whether they joined 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 Chancelleries of Europe. It is probably speeding on its way thither at the present instant as fast as steam can take it."
　　
　　Mr. Trelawney Hope dropped his head on his chest and groaned aloud. The Premier placed his hand kindly upon his shoulder.
　　
　　"It is your misfortune, my dear fellow. No one can blame you. There is no precaution which you have neglected. Now, Mr. 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, Mr. Holmes."
　　
　　"Consider the facts, sir. It is inconceivable that it was taken after eleven-thirty at night, since I understand that Mr. 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 and 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 or even to trace it? It is beyond our reach."
　　
　　The Prime Minister rose from the settee.
　　
　　"What you say is perfectly logical, Mr. 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, Mr. Holmes. He would take so valuable a prize to head-quarters 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 no doubt 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 had 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 sure which of them has taken it, it is just possible that it has 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 it means another penny on the income-tax. It is conceivable that the 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 Oberstein, La Rothiere, and Eduardo Lucas. I will see each of them."
　　
　　I glanced at my morning paper.
　　
　　"Is that Eduardo Lucas of Godolphin Street?"
　　
　　"Yes."
　　
　　"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 with a sense of exultation that I realized how completely I had astonished him. He stared in amazement, and then snatched the paper from my hands. This was the paragraph which I had been engaged in reading when he rose from his chair:--
　　
　　"MURDER IN WESTMINSTER.
　　
　　"A crime of mysterious character was committed last night at 16, 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 Mr. Eduardo Lucas, well known in society 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. Mr. Lucas is an unmarried man, thirty-four years of age, and his establishment consists of Mrs. 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. From ten o'clock onwards Mr. Lucas had the house to himself. What occurred during that time has not yet transpired, but at a quarter to twelve Police-constable Barrett, passing along Godolphin Street, observed that the door of No. 16 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 centre. 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 had been 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. Mr. Eduardo Lucas was so well known and popular that his violent and mysterious fate will arouse painful interest and intense sympathy in a wide-spread circle of friends."
　　
　　"Well, Watson, what do you make of this?" asked Holmes, after a long pause.
　　
　　"It is an amazing coincidence."
　　
　　"A coincidence! Here is one of the three men whom we had named as possible actors in this drama, and he meets a violent death during the very hours when we know that that 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."
　　
　　"Not at all. They know all they see at Godolphin Street. They know -- and shall know -- nothing of Whitehall Terrace. Only WE know of both events, and can trace the relation between them. There is one obvious point which would, in any case, have turned 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. Halloa! what have we here?"
　　
　　Mrs. 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 honoured 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 Belminster, but no description of it, and no contemplation of colourless photographs, had prepared me for the subtle, delicate charm and the beautiful colouring 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 framed for an instant in the open door.
　　
　　"Has my husband been here, Mr. Holmes?"
　　
　　"Yes, madam, he has been here."
　　
　　"Mr. 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.
　　
　　"Mr. Holmes," she said, and her white-gloved hands clasped and unclasped as she spoke -- "I will speak frankly to you in the hope that it may induce you to speak frankly in return. There is complete confidence between my husband and me on 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, Mr. Holmes, to tell me exactly what has happened and what it will lead to. Tell me all, Mr. Holmes. Let no regard for your client's interests keep you silent, for I assure you that his interests, if he would only see it, would be best served by taking me into his complete confidence. What was this paper which was stolen?"
　　
　　"Madam, what you ask 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 has 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, Mr. Holmes, you may do a great service if you would enlighten 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, Mr. Holmes. From an expression which my husband dropped in the first shock of this disaster I understood 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, Mr. Holmes, for having refused to speak more freely, and you on your side will not, I am sure, think the worse of me because I desire, even against his will, to share my husband's anxieties. 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, and the drawn mouth. Then she was gone.
　　
　　"Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department," said Holmes, with a smile, when the dwindling frou-frou of skirts had ended in the slam of 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."
　　
　　"Hum! Think of her appearance, Watson -- her manner, her suppressed excitement, her restlessness, her tenacity in asking questions. Remember that she comes of a caste who do not lightly show emotion."
　　
　　"She was certainly much moved."
　　
　　"Remember also 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 have observed, Watson, how she manoeuvred to have the light at her back. She did not wish us to read her expression."
　　
　　"Yes; she chose the one chair in the room."
　　
　　"And yet the motives 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 may depend upon a hairpin or a curling-tongs. Good morning, Watson."
　　
　　"You are off?"
　　
　　"Yes; I will wile away the morning at Godolphin 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 violin, sank into reveries, devoured sandwiches 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 arrest 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 indefatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist, and an untiring 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 counsel 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. Mitton had been in Lucas's employment for three years. It was noticeable that Lucas did not take Mitton on the Continent 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, as he told me that Inspector Lestrade had taken 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 has just been made by the Parisian police," said the DAILY TELEGRAPH, "which raises the veil which hung round the tragic fate of Mr. 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 Mme. Henri Fournaye, occupying a small villa in the Rue Austerlitz, was reported to the authorities by her servants as being insane. An examination showed that she had indeed developed mania of a dangerous and permanent form. On inquiry the police have discovered that Mme. Henri Fournaye only returned from a journey to London on Tuesday last, and there is evidence to connect her with the crime at Westminster. A comparison of photographs has proved conclusively that M. Henri Fournaye and Eduardo Lucas were really one and the same person, and that the deceased had for some reason lived a double life in London and Paris. Mme. Fournaye, 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 coherent account of the past, and the doctors hold out no hopes of the re-establishment of her reason. There is evidence that a woman, who might have been Mme. Fournaye, was seen for some hours on Monday night watching the house in Godolphin Street."
　　
　　"What do you think of that, Holmes?" I had read the account aloud to him, while 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 -- a trivial episode -- in comparison with our real task, which is to trace this document and save a European catastrophe. Only one important thing has happened in the last three days, and that is that nothing has happened. I get reports almost hourly 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 coincidence 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 aroused? 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 glory of my career. Ah, here is my latest from the front!" He glanced hurriedly at the note which had been handed in. "Halloa! Lestrade seems 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 century 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 drugget in the centre 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 pictures, the rugs, and the hangings, all pointed to a taste which was luxurious to the verge of effeminacy.
　　
　　"Seen the Paris news?" asked Lestrade.
　　
　　Holmes nodded.
　　
　　"Our French friends seem to have touched the spot this time. No doubt it's just as they say. She knocked at the door -- surprise visit, I guess, for he kept his life in water-tight 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 handy 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've 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 take an interest in -- queer, you know, and what you might call freakish. It has 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 position. Nothing has been moved. Officer in charge here day and night. This morning, as the man was buried and the investigation over -- so far as this room is concerned -- we thought we could tidy up a bit. This carpet. You see, it is not fastened down; only just laid there. We had occasion to raise it. We found ----"
　　
　　"Yes? You found ----"
　　
　　Holmes's face grew tense with anxiety.
　　
　　"Well, I'm sure you would never guess in a hundred years what we did find. You see that stain on the carpet? Well, a great deal must have soaked through, must it not?"
　　
　　"Undoubtedly it must."
　　
　　"Well, you will be surprised to hear that there is no stain on the white woodwork to correspond."
　　
　　"No stain! But there must ----"
　　
　　"Yes; so you would say. But the fact remains that there isn't."
　　
　　He took the corner of the carpet in his hand and, turning it over, he showed 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, Mr. Holmes?"
　　
　　"Why, it is simple enough. The 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, Mr. 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. But what I want to know is, who shifted 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 constable 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 it 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 someone has been here. Press him. Tell him that a full confession is his only chance of forgiveness. Do 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 of energy. He tore the drugget from the floor, and in an instant was down on his hands and knees clawing 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 drugget had only just been drawn straight when Lestrade's voice was heard in the passage. He found Holmes leaning languidly against the mantelpiece, resigned and patient, endeavouring to conceal his irrepressible yawns.
　　
　　"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Holmes. I can see that you are bored to death with the whole affair. Well, he has confessed, 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 meant no harm, sir, I'm sure. The young woman came to 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 -- had read about it in the papers, she said. She was a very respectable, well-spoken young woman, sir, and I saw no harm in letting her have a 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, but I could not bring her to. Then I went round the corner to the Ivy Plant for some brandy, and by the time I had brought it back the young woman had recovered and was off -- ashamed of herself, I dare say, and dared not face me."
　　
　　"How about moving that drugget?"
　　
　　"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, Constable MacPherson," said Lestrade, with dignity. "No doubt you thought that your breach of duty could never be discovered, and yet a mere glance at that drugget 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 called you down over such a petty business, Mr. Holmes, 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?"
　　
　　"Yes, sir, only once."
　　
　　"Who was she?"
　　
　　"Don't know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisement about type-writing, 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. `Oh, officer, do let me have a peep!' says she. She had pretty, coaxing ways, as you might say, and I thought there was no harm in letting her just put her head through the door."
　　
　　"How was she dressed?"
　　
　　"Quiet, sir -- a long mantle down to her feet."
　　
　　"What time was it?"
　　
　　"It was just growing dusk at the time. They were lighting the lamps as I came back with the brandy."
　　
　　"Very good," said Holmes. "Come, Watson, 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 Honourable Trelawney Hope will suffer no set-back in his brilliant career, that the indiscreet Sovereign will receive no punishment for his indiscretion, that the Prime Minister will have no European complication to deal 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 if 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 Trelawney Hope that Sherlock Holmes inquired. We were shown into the morning-room.
　　
　　"Mr. 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."
　　
　　"Unfortunately, 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 colour 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 rallied from the shock, and a supreme astonishment and indignation chased every other expression from her features.
　　
　　"You -- you insult me, Mr. 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 upon his as if 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, Mr. Holmes, to come here and browbeat a woman. You say that you know something. What is it that you know?"
　　
　　"Pray sit 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, Mr. 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, Mr. 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 it might be useful," said he. "The policeman has recognised 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, Mr. Holmes, that you are under some absurd illusion."
　　
　　Holmes rose from his chair.
　　
　　"I am sorry 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 Mr. Trelawney Hope at home?"
　　
　　"He will 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 him when Lady Hilda was down on her knees at Holmes's feet, her hands out-stretched, her beautiful face upturned and wet with her tears.
　　
　　"Oh, spare me, Mr. 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 am thankful, madam, that you have come to your senses even at this last moment! There is 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, Mr. Holmes. Would to Heaven I had never seen it!"
　　
　　"How can we return it?" Holmes muttered. "Quick, quick, 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."
　　
　　"Mr. Holmes, I will tell you everything," cried the lady. "Oh, Mr. 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 her husband as I do, and yet if he knew how I have acted -- how I have been compelled to act -- he would never forgive me. For his own honour stands so high that he could not forget or pardon a lapse in another. Help me, Mr. Holmes! My happiness, his happiness, our very lives are at stake!"
　　
　　"Quick, madam, the time grows short!"
　　
　　"It was a letter of mine, Mr. Holmes, an indiscreet letter written before my marriage -- a foolish letter, a letter of an impulsive, loving girl. I meant no harm, and yet he would have thought it criminal. Had he read that letter his confidence would have been for ever 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 it 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 despatch-box. He had some spy in the office who had told him of its existence. He assured me that no harm could come to my husband. Put yourself in my position, Mr. Holmes! What was I to do?"
　　
　　"Take your husband into your confidence."
　　
　　"I could not, Mr. 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 in a matter of love and trust they were only too clear to me. I did it, Mr. Holmes! I took an impression of his key; this man Lucas furnished a duplicate. I opened his despatch-box, took the paper, and conveyed it to Godolphin Street."
　　
　　"What happened there, madam?"
　　
　　"I tapped at the door as agreed. Lucas opened it. I followed him into his room, leaving the hall door ajar 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 at the door. There were steps in the passage. Lucas quickly turned back the drugget, 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 struggle. 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 had 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 offence. From the instant that I grasped it my whole mind was turned to the one thought of getting back my husband's paper. 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 with me, and thought of destroying it since I could see no way of returning it, without confessing my guilt to my husband. Heavens, I hear his step upon the stair!"
　　
　　The European Secretary burst excitedly into the room.
　　
　　"Any news, Mr. Holmes, any news?" he cried.
　　
　　"I have some hopes."
　　
　　"Ah, thank 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, will you ask the Prime Minister to come up? As to you, dear, I fear that this is a matter of politics. We will 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, Mr. Holmes?"
　　
　　"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, Mr. Holmes. We cannot live for ever 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."
　　
　　"Mr. Holmes!"
　　
　　"If it had it would certainly have been public by now."
　　
　　"But why should anyone take it in order to keep it in his house?"
　　
　　"I am not convinced that anyone did take it."
　　
　　"Then how could it leave the despatch-box?"
　　
　　"I am not convinced that it ever did leave the despatch-box."
　　
　　"Mr. Holmes, this joking is very ill-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. Well, it may 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."
　　
　　"Surely it is easily decided, Hope," said the Premier. "Let us have the despatch-box brought in."
　　
　　The Secretary rang the bell.
　　
　　"Jacobs, bring down my despatch-box. This is a farcical waste of time, but still, if nothing else will satisfy you, it shall be done. Thank you, Jacobs; put it here. I have always had the key on my watch-chain. Here are the papers, you see. Letter from Lord Merrow, report from Sir Charles Hardy, memorandum from Belgrade, note on the Russo-German grain taxes, letter from Madrid, note from Lord Flowers -- good heavens! what is this? Lord Bellinger! Lord Bellinger!"
　　
　　The Premier snatched the blue envelope from his hand.
　　
　　"Yes, it is it -- and the letter is intact. Hope, I congratulate you."
　　
　　"Thank you! Thank you! What a weight from my heart. But this is inconceivable -- impossible. Mr. 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 is 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.
　　
　　"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.