The Lock and Key Library: Classic Mystery and Detective Stories: Modern English
before she shot out of the hall door and into it. I only caught a glimpse
of her at the moment, but she was a lovely woman, with a face that a man
might die for.
"'The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried; 'and half a sovereign if you
reach it in twenty minutes.'
"This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing whether I
should run for it, or whether I should perch behind her landau, when a cab
came through the street. The driver looked twice at such a shabby fare;
but I jumped in before he could object. 'The Church of St. Monica,' said
I, 'and half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.' It was
twenty-five minutes to twelve, and of course it was clear enough what was
in the wind.
"My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove faster, but the others
were there before us. The cab and landau with their steaming horses were
in front of the door when I arrived. I paid the man, and hurried into the
church. There was not a soul there save the two whom I had followed, and
a surpliced clergyman, who seemed to be expostulating with them. They were
all three standing in a knot in front of the altar. I lounged up the side
aisle like any other idler who has dropped into a church. Suddenly, to my
surprise, the three at the altar faced round to me, and Godfrey Norton
came running as hard as he could toward me.
"'Thank God!' he cried. 'You'll do. Come! Come!'
"'What then?' I asked.
"'Come, man, come; only three minutes, or it won't be legal.'
"I was half dragged up to the altar, and, before I knew where I was, I
found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in my ear, and
vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and generally assisting in
the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster, to Godfrey Norton, bachelor.
It was all done in an instant, and there was the gentleman thanking me on
the one side and the lady on the other, while the clergyman beamed on me
in front. It was the most preposterous position in which I ever found
myself in my life, and it was the thought of it that started me laughing
just now. It seems that there had been some informality about their
license; that the clergyman absolutely refused to marry them without a
witness of some sort, and that my lucky appearance saved the bridegroom
from having to sally out into the streets in search of a best man. The
bride gave me a sovereign, and I mean to wear it on my watch chain in
memory of the occasion."
"This is a very unexpected turn of affairs," said I; "and what then?"
"Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if the pair
might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate very prompt and
energetic measures on my part. At the church door, however, they
separated, he driving back to the Temple, and she to her own house. 'I
shall drive out in the park at five as usual,' she said, as she left him.
I heard no more. They drove away in different directions, and I went off
to make my own arrangements."
"Which are?"
"Some cold beef and a glass of beer," he answered, ringing the bell. "I
have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to be busier still
this evening. By the way, doctor, I shall want your cooperation."
"I shall be delighted."
"You don't mind breaking the law?"
"Not in the least."
"Nor running a chance of arrest?"
"Not in a good cause."
"Oh, the cause is excellent!"
"Then I am your man."
"I was sure that I might rely on you."
"But what is it you wish?"
"When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear to you.
Now," he said, as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that our landlady
had provided, "I must discuss it while I eat, for I have not much time. It
is nearly five now. In two hours we must be on the scene of action. Miss
Irene, or Madame, rather, returns from her drive at seven. We must be at
Briony Lodge to meet her."
"And what then?"
"You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to occur.
There is only one point on which I must insist. You must not interfere,
come what may. You understand?"
"I am to be neutral?"
"To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some small unpleasantness.
Do not join in it. It will end in my being conveyed into the house. Four
or five minutes afterwards the sitting-room window will open. You are to
station yourself close to that open window."
"Yes."
"You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you."
"Yes."
"And when I raise my hand--so--you will throw into the room what I give
you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry of fire. You quite
follow me?"
"Entirely."
"It is nothing very formidable," he said, taking a long, cigar-shaped roll
from his pocket. "It is an ordinary plumber's smoke-rocket, fitted with a
cap at either end, to make it self-lighting. Your task is confined to
that. When you raise your cry of fire, it will be taken up by quite a
number of people. You may then walk to the end of the street, and I will
rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope that I have made myself clear?"
"I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you, and, at the
signal, to throw in this object, then to raise the cry of fire and to wait
you at the corner of the street."
"Precisely."
"Then you may entirely rely on me."
"That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I prepared
for the new role I have to play."
He disappeared into his bedroom, and returned in a few minutes in the
character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist clergyman. His
broad, black hat, his baggy trousers, his white tie, his sympathetic
smile, and general look of peering and benevolent curiosity were such as
Mr. John Hare alone could have equaled. It was not merely that Holmes
changed his costume. His expression, his manner, his very soul seemed to
vary with every fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor,
even as science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in
crime.
It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still wanted
ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in Serpentine Avenue. It
was already dusk, and the lamps were just being lighted as we paced up and
down in front of Briony Lodge, waiting for the coming of its occupant. The
house was just such as I had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes's succinct
description, but the locality appeared to be less private than I expected.
On the contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighborhood, it was
remarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed men smoking and
laughing in a corner, a scissors grinder with his wheel, two guardsmen who
were flirting with a nurse girl, and several well-dressed young men who
were lounging up and down with cigars in their mouths.
"You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of the house,
"this marriage rather simplifies matters. The photograph becomes a
double-edged weapon now. The chances are that she would be as averse to
its being seen by Mr. Godfrey Norton as our client is to its coming to the
eyes of his princess. Now the question is--where are we to find the
photograph?"
"Where, indeed?"
"It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is cabinet
size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman's dress. She knows that
the king is capable of having her waylaid and searched. Two attempts of
the sort have already been made. We may take it, then, that she does not
carry it about with her."
"Where, then?"
"Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But I am
inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, and they like to
do their own secreting. Why should she hand it over to anyone else? She
could trust her own guardianship, but she could not tell what indirect or
political influence might be brought to bear upon a business man. Besides,
remember that she had resolved to use it within a few days. It must be
where she can lay her hands upon it. It must be in her own house."
"But it has twice been burglarized."
"Pshaw! They did not know how to look."
"But how will you look?"
"I will not look."
"What then?"
"I will get her to show me."
"But she will refuse."
"She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is her
carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter."
As he spoke, the gleam of the sidelights of a carriage came round the
curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which rattled up to the
door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up one of the loafing men at the corner
dashed forward to open the door in the hope of earning a copper, but was
elbowed away by another loafer who had rushed up with the same intention.
A fierce quarrel broke out which was increased by the two guardsmen, who
took sides with one of the loungers, and by the scissors grinder, who was
equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and in an instant the
lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was the center of a little knot
of struggling men who struck savagely at each other with their fists and
sticks. Holmes dashed into the crowd to protect the lady; but, just as he
reached her, he gave a cry and dropped to the ground, with the blood
running freely down his face. At his fall the guardsmen took to their
heels in one direction and the loungers in the other, while a number of
better-dressed people who had watched the scuffle without taking part in
it crowded in to help the lady and to attend to the injured man. Irene
Adler, as I will still call her, had hurried up the steps; but she stood
at the top, with her superb figure outlined against the lights of the
hall, looking back into the street.
"Is the poor gentleman much hurt?" she asked.
"He is dead," cried several voices.
"No, no, there's life in him," shouted another. "But he'll be gone before
you can get him to the hospital."
"He's a brave fellow," said a woman. "They would have had the lady's purse
and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a gang, and a rough one,
too. Ah! he's breathing now."
"He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?"
"Surely. Bring him into the sitting room. There is a comfortable sofa.
This way, please." Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge, and
laid out in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings
from my post by the window. The lamps had been lighted, but the blinds had
not been drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay upon the couch. I do
not know whether he was seized with compunction at that moment for the
part he was playing, but I know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of
myself in my life than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I
was conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited upon the
injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery to Holmes to draw
back now from the part which he had intrusted to me. I hardened my heart,
and took the smoke-rocket from under my ulster. After all, I thought, we
are not injuring her. We are but preventing her from injuring another.
Holmes had sat upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man who is in
need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the window. At the same
instant I saw him raise his hand, and at the signal I tossed my rocket
into the room with a cry of "Fire!" The word was no sooner out of my mouth
than the whole crowd of spectators, well dressed and ill--gentlemen,
hostlers, and servant maids--joined in a general shriek of "Fire!" Thick
clouds of smoke curled through the room, and out at the open window. I
caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a moment later the voice of
Holmes from within assuring them that it was a false alarm. Slipping
through the shouting crowd, I made my way to the corner of the street, and