“A very commonplace little murder,” said he. “You’ve gotsomething better, I fancy. You are the stormy petrel of crime,Watson. What is it?”
I handed him the letter, which he read with the most concentratedattention.
“It does not tell us very much, does it?” he remarked as hehanded it back to me.
“Hardly anything.”
“And yet the writing is of interest.”
“But the writing is not his own.”
“Precisely. It is a woman’s.”
“A man’s surely,” I cried.
“No, a woman’s, and a woman of rare character. You see, at thecommencement of an investigation it is something to know thatyour client is in close contact with some one who, for good orevil, has an exceptional nature. My interest is already awakened inthe case. If you are ready we will start at once for Woking and seethis diplomatist who is in such evil case, and the lady to whom hedictates his letters.”
We were fortunate enough to catch an early train at Waterloo,and in a little under an hour we found ourselves among the firwoodsand the heather of Woking. Briarbrae proved to be alarge detached house standing in extensive grounds within a fewminutes’ walk of the station. On sending in our cards we wereshown into an elegantly appointed drawing-room, where we werejoined in a few minutes by a rather stout man who received uswith much hospitality. His age may have been nearer forty thanthirty, but his cheeks were so ruddy and his eyes so merry that hestill conveyed the impression of a plump and mischievous boy.
“I am so glad that you have come,” said he, shaking our handswith effusion. “Percy has been inquiring for you all morning. Ah,poor old chap; he clings to any straw! His father and his motherasked me to see you, for the mere mention of the subject is verypainful to them.”
“We have had no details yet,” observed Holmes. “I perceive thatyou are not yourself a member of the family.”
Our acquaintance looked surprised, and then, glancing down, hebegan to laugh.
“Of course you saw the J H monogram on my locket,” said he.
“For a moment I thought you had done something clever. JosephHarrison is my name, and as Percy is to marry my sister Annie Ishall at least be a relation by marriage. You will find my sister inhis room, for she has nursed him hand-and-foot this two monthsback. Perhaps we’d better go in at once, for I know how impatienthe is.”
The chamber in which we were shown was on the same floor asthe drawing-room. It was furnished partly as a sitting and partlyas a bedroom, with flowers arranged daintily in every nook andcorner. A young man, very pale and worn, was lying upon a sofanear the open window, through which came the rich scent of thegarden and the balmy summer air. A woman was sitting besidehim, who rose as we entered.
“Shall I leave, Percy?” she asked.
He clutched her hand to detain her. “How are you, Watson?”
said he, cordially. “I should never have known you under thatmoustache, and I dare say you would not be prepared to swearto me. This I presume is your celebrated friend, Mr. SherlockHolmes?”
I introduced him in a few words, and we both sat down. Thestout young man had left us, but his sister still remained with herhand in that of the invalid. She was a striking-looking woman,a little short and thick for symmetry, but with a beautiful olivecomplexion, large, dark, Italian eyes, and a wealth of deep blackhair. Her rich tints made the white face of her companion themore worn and haggard by the contrast.
“I won’t waste your time,” said he, raising himself upon thesofa. “I’ll plunge into the matter without further preamble. I wasa happy and successful man, Mr. Holmes, and on the eve of beingmarried, when a sudden and dreadful misfortune wrecked all myprospects in life.
“I was, as Watson may have told you, in the Foreign Office, andthrough the influences of my uncle, Lord Holdhurst, I rose rapidlyto a responsible position. When my uncle became foreign ministerin this administration he gave me several missions of trust, and asI always brought them to a successful conclusion, he came at lastto have the utmost confidence in my ability and tact.
“Nearly ten weeks ago—to be more accurate, on the twentythirdof May—he called me into his private room, and, aftercomplimenting me on the good work which I had done, heinformed me that he had a new commission of trust for me toexecute.
“ ‘This,’ said he, taking a gray roll of paper from his bureau,‘is the original of that secret treaty between England and Italyof which, I regret to say, some rumors have already got into thepublic press. It is of enormous importance that nothing furthershould leak out. The French or the Russian embassy would pay animmense sum to learn the contents of these papers. They shouldnot leave my bureau were it not that it is absolutely necessary tohave them copied. You have a desk in your office?”
“ ‘Yes, sir.’
“ ‘Then take the treaty and lock it up there. I shall givedirections that you may remain behind when the others go, so thatyou may copy it at your leisure without fear of being overlooked.
When you have finished, relock both the original and the draftin the desk, and hand them over to me personally to-morrowmorning.’
“I took the papers and——”
“Excuse me an instant,” said Holmes. “Were you alone duringthis conversation?”
“Absolutely.”
“In a large room?”
“Thirty feet each way.”
“In the centre?”
“Yes, about it.”
“And speaking low?”
“My uncle’s voice is always remarkably low. I hardly spoke at all.”
“Thank you,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes; “pray go on.”
“I did exactly what he indicated, and waited until the otherclerks had departed. One of them in my room, Charles Gorot, hadsome arrears of work to make up, so I left him there and went outto dine. When I returned he was gone. I was anxious to hurry mywork, for I knew that Joseph—the Mr. Harrison whom you sawjust now—was in town, and that he would travel down to Wokingby the eleven-o’clock train, and I wanted if possible to catch it.
