Chapter 3
III.
22 min read · 4,363 words
III.
I slept at Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon our toast
and coffee in the morning when the King of Bohemia rushed into the
room.
“You have really got it!” he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by either
shoulder and looking eagerly into his face.
“Not yet.”
“But you have hopes?”
“I have hopes.”
“Then, come. I am all impatience to be gone.”
“We must have a cab.”
“No, my brougham is waiting.”
“Then that will simplify matters.” We descended and started off once
more for Briony Lodge.
“Irene Adler is married,” remarked Holmes.
“Married! When?”
“Yesterday.”
“But to whom?”
“To an English lawyer named Norton.”
“But she could not love him.”
“I am in hopes that she does.”
“And why in hopes?”
“Because it would spare your Majesty all fear of future annoyance. If
the lady loves her husband, she does not love your Majesty. If she does
not love your Majesty, there is no reason why she should interfere with
your Majesty’s plan.”
“It is true. And yet—! Well! I wish she had been of my own station!
What a queen she would have made!” He relapsed into a moody silence,
which was not broken until we drew up in Serpentine Avenue.
The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an elderly woman stood upon the
steps. She watched us with a sardonic eye as we stepped from the
brougham.
“Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I believe?” said she.
“I am Mr. Holmes,” answered my companion, looking at her with a
questioning and rather startled gaze.
“Indeed! My mistress told me that you were likely to call. She left
this morning with her husband by the 5:15 train from Charing Cross for
the Continent.”
“What!” Sherlock Holmes staggered back, white with chagrin and
surprise. “Do you mean that she has left England?”
“Never to return.”
“And the papers?” asked the King hoarsely. “All is lost.”
“We shall see.” He pushed past the servant and rushed into the
drawing-room, followed by the King and myself. The furniture was
scattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves and open
drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked them before her flight.
Holmes rushed at the bell-pull, tore back a small sliding shutter, and,
plunging in his hand, pulled out a photograph and a letter. The
photograph was of Irene Adler herself in evening dress, the letter was
superscribed to “Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To be left till called for.” My
friend tore it open, and we all three read it together. It was dated at
midnight of the preceding night and ran in this way:
“MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES,—You really did it very well. You took
me in completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I had not a
suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed myself, I
began to think. I had been warned against you months ago. I had
been told that, if the King employed an agent, it would certainly
be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all this, you
made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I became
suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind old
clergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actress myself.
Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage of the
freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to watch you,
ran upstairs, got into my walking clothes, as I call them, and came
down just as you departed.
“Well, I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I was
really an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
Then I, rather imprudently, wished you good-night, and started for
the Temple to see my husband.
“We both thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by so
formidable an antagonist; so you will find the nest empty when you
call to-morrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest in
peace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. The King may do
what he will without hindrance from one whom he has cruelly
wronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself, and to preserve a
weapon which will always secure me from any steps which he might
take in the future. I leave a photograph which he might care to
possess; and I remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
“Very truly yours,
“IRENE NORTON, _née_ ADLER.”
“What a woman—oh, what a woman!” cried the King of Bohemia, when we had
all three read this epistle. “Did I not tell you how quick and resolute
she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? Is it not a pity
that she was not on my level?”
“From what I have seen of the lady, she seems, indeed, to be on a very
different level to your Majesty,” said Holmes coldly. “I am sorry that
I have not been able to bring your Majesty’s business to a more
successful conclusion.”
“On the contrary, my dear sir,” cried the King; “nothing could be more
successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The photograph is now as
safe as if it were in the fire.”
“I am glad to hear your Majesty say so.”
“I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way I can reward
you. This ring—” He slipped an emerald snake ring from his finger and
held it out upon the palm of his hand.
“Your Majesty has something which I should value even more highly,”
said Holmes.
“You have but to name it.”
“This photograph!”
The King stared at him in amazement.
“Irene’s photograph!” he cried. “Certainly, if you wish it.”
“I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the matter.
I have the honour to wish you a very good morning.” He bowed, and,
turning away without observing the hand which the King had stretched
out to him, he set off in my company for his chambers.
And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom of
Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a
woman’s wit. He used to make merry over the cleverness of women, but I
have not heard him do it of late. And when he speaks of Irene Adler, or
when he refers to her photograph, it is always under the honourable
title of _the_ woman.
II. THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE
I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the
autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a very
stout, florid-faced, elderly gentleman with fiery red hair. With an
apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw when Holmes pulled
me abruptly into the room and closed the door behind me.
“You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear Watson,” he
said cordially.
“I was afraid that you were engaged.”
“So I am. Very much so.”
“Then I can wait in the next room.”
“Not at all. This gentleman, Mr. Wilson, has been my partner and helper
in many of my most successful cases, and I have no doubt that he will
be of the utmost use to me in yours also.”
The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and gave a bob of
greeting, with a quick little questioning glance from his small
fat-encircled eyes.
“Try the settee,” said Holmes, relapsing into his armchair and putting
his fingertips together, as was his custom when in judicial moods. “I
know, my dear Watson, that you share my love of all that is bizarre and
outside the conventions and humdrum routine of everyday life. You have
shown your relish for it by the enthusiasm which has prompted you to
chronicle, and, if you will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellish
so many of my own little adventures.”
“Your cases have indeed been of the greatest interest to me,” I
observed.
“You will remember that I remarked the other day, just before we went
into the very simple problem presented by Miss Mary Sutherland, that
for strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life
itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the
imagination.”
“A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting.”
“You did, Doctor, but none the less you must come round to my view, for
otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you until your
reason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to be right. Now, Mr.
Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon me this morning,
and to begin a narrative which promises to be one of the most singular
which I have listened to for some time. You have heard me remark that
the strangest and most unique things are very often connected not with
the larger but with the smaller crimes, and occasionally, indeed, where
there is room for doubt whether any positive crime has been committed.
As far as I have heard, it is impossible for me to say whether the
present case is an instance of crime or not, but the course of events
is certainly among the most singular that I have ever listened to.
Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would have the great kindness to recommence
your narrative. I ask you not merely because my friend Dr. Watson has
not heard the opening part but also because the peculiar nature of the
story makes me anxious to have every possible detail from your lips. As
a rule, when I have heard some slight indication of the course of
events, I am able to guide myself by the thousands of other similar
cases which occur to my memory. In the present instance I am forced to
admit that the facts are, to the best of my belief, unique.”
The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some
little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the inside
pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement column,
with his head thrust forward and the paper flattened out upon his knee,
I took a good look at the man and endeavoured, after the fashion of my
companion, to read the indications which might be presented by his
dress or appearance.
I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor bore
every mark of being an average commonplace British tradesman, obese,
pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy grey shepherd’s check trousers,
a not over-clean black frock-coat, unbuttoned in the front, and a drab
waistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain, and a square pierced bit of
metal dangling down as an ornament. A frayed top-hat and a faded brown
overcoat with a wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a chair beside him.
Altogether, look as I would, there was nothing remarkable about the man
save his blazing red head, and the expression of extreme chagrin and
discontent upon his features.
Sherlock Holmes’ quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook his head
with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. “Beyond the obvious
facts that he has at some time done manual labour, that he takes snuff,
that he is a Freemason, that he has been in China, and that he has done
a considerable amount of writing lately, I can deduce nothing else.”
Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger upon the
paper, but his eyes upon my companion.
“How, in the name of good-fortune, did you know all that, Mr. Holmes?”
he asked. “How did you know, for example, that I did manual labour.
It’s as true as gospel, for I began as a ship’s carpenter.”
“Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size larger than
your left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more
developed.”
“Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?”
“I won’t insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that,
especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you use
an arc-and-compass breastpin.”
“Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?”
“What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny for five
inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the elbow where you
rest it upon the desk?”
“Well, but China?”
“The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right wrist
could only have been done in China. I have made a small study of tattoo
marks and have even contributed to the literature of the subject. That
trick of staining the fishes’ scales of a delicate pink is quite
peculiar to China. When, in addition, I see a Chinese coin hanging from
your watch-chain, the matter becomes even more simple.”
Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. “Well, I never!” said he. “I thought
at first that you had done something clever, but I see that there was
nothing in it after all.”
“I begin to think, Watson,” said Holmes, “that I make a mistake in
explaining. ‘_Omne ignotum pro magnifico_,’ you know, and my poor
little reputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I am so
candid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?”
“Yes, I have got it now,” he answered with his thick red finger planted
halfway down the column. “Here it is. This is what began it all. You
just read it for yourself, sir.”
I took the paper from him and read as follows:
“TO THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE: On account of the bequest of the late
Ezekiah Hopkins, of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, U.S.A., there is now another
vacancy open which entitles a member of the League to a salary of £ 4 a
week for purely nominal services. All red-headed men who are sound in
body and mind and above the age of twenty-one years, are eligible.
Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o’clock, to Duncan Ross, at the
offices of the League, 7 Pope’s Court, Fleet Street.”
“What on earth does this mean?” I ejaculated after I had twice read
over the extraordinary announcement.
Holmes chuckled and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when in
high spirits. “It is a little off the beaten track, isn’t it?” said he.
“And now, Mr. Wilson, off you go at scratch and tell us all about
yourself, your household, and the effect which this advertisement had
upon your fortunes. You will first make a note, Doctor, of the paper
and the date.”
“It is _The Morning Chronicle_ of April 27, 1890. Just two months ago.”
“Very good. Now, Mr. Wilson?”
“Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,”
said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead; “I have a small pawnbroker’s
business at Coburg Square, near the City. It’s not a very large affair,
and of late years it has not done more than just give me a living. I
used to be able to keep two assistants, but now I only keep one; and I
would have a job to pay him but that he is willing to come for half
wages so as to learn the business.”
“What is the name of this obliging youth?” asked Sherlock Holmes.
“His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he’s not such a youth, either. It’s
hard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter assistant, Mr. Holmes;
and I know very well that he could better himself and earn twice what I
am able to give him. But, after all, if he is satisfied, why should I
put ideas in his head?”
“Why, indeed? You seem most fortunate in having an _employé_ who comes
under the full market price. It is not a common experience among
employers in this age. I don’t know that your assistant is not as
remarkable as your advertisement.”
“Oh, he has his faults, too,” said Mr. Wilson. “Never was such a fellow
for photography. Snapping away with a camera when he ought to be
improving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar like a rabbit
into its hole to develop his pictures. That is his main fault, but on
the whole he’s a good worker. There’s no vice in him.”
“He is still with you, I presume?”
“Yes, sir. He and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simple cooking
and keeps the place clean—that’s all I have in the house, for I am a
widower and never had any family. We live very quietly, sir, the three
of us; and we keep a roof over our heads and pay our debts, if we do
nothing more.
“The first thing that put us out was that advertisement. Spaulding, he
came down into the office just this day eight weeks, with this very
paper in his hand, and he says:
“‘I wish to the Lord, Mr. Wilson, that I was a red-headed man.’
“‘Why that?’ I asks.
“‘Why,’ says he, ‘here’s another vacancy on the League of the
Red-headed Men. It’s worth quite a little fortune to any man who gets
it, and I understand that there are more vacancies than there are men,
so that the trustees are at their wits’ end what to do with the money.
If my hair would only change colour, here’s a nice little crib all
ready for me to step into.’
“‘Why, what is it, then?’ I asked. You see, Mr. Holmes, I am a very
stay-at-home man, and as my business came to me instead of my having to
go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting my foot over the
door-mat. In that way I didn’t know much of what was going on outside,
and I was always glad of a bit of news.
“‘Have you never heard of the League of the Red-headed Men?’ he asked
with his eyes open.
“‘Never.’
“‘Why, I wonder at that, for you are eligible yourself for one of the
vacancies.’
“‘And what are they worth?’ I asked.
“‘Oh, merely a couple of hundred a year, but the work is slight, and it
need not interfere very much with one’s other occupations.’
“Well, you can easily think that that made me prick up my ears, for the
business has not been over good for some years, and an extra couple of
hundred would have been very handy.
“‘Tell me all about it,’ said I.
“‘Well,’ said he, showing me the advertisement, ‘you can see for
yourself that the League has a vacancy, and there is the address where
you should apply for particulars. As far as I can make out, the League
was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah Hopkins, who was very
peculiar in his ways. He was himself red-headed, and he had a great
sympathy for all red-headed men; so, when he died, it was found that he
had left his enormous fortune in the hands of trustees, with
instructions to apply the interest to the providing of easy berths to
men whose hair is of that colour. From all I hear it is splendid pay
and very little to do.’
“‘But,’ said I, ‘there would be millions of red-headed men who would
apply.’
“‘Not so many as you might think,’ he answered. ‘You see it is really
confined to Londoners, and to grown men. This American had started from
London when he was young, and he wanted to do the old town a good turn.
Then, again, I have heard it is no use your applying if your hair is
light red, or dark red, or anything but real bright, blazing, fiery
red. Now, if you cared to apply, Mr. Wilson, you would just walk in;
but perhaps it would hardly be worth your while to put yourself out of
the way for the sake of a few hundred pounds.’
“Now, it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves, that my
hair is of a very full and rich tint, so that it seemed to me that if
there was to be any competition in the matter I stood as good a chance
as any man that I had ever met. Vincent Spaulding seemed to know so
much about it that I thought he might prove useful, so I just ordered
him to put up the shutters for the day and to come right away with me.
He was very willing to have a holiday, so we shut the business up and
started off for the address that was given us in the advertisement.
“I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr. Holmes. From
north, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red in his
hair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. Fleet
Street was choked with red-headed folk, and Pope’s Court looked like a
coster’s orange barrow. I should not have thought there were so many in
the whole country as were brought together by that single
advertisement. Every shade of colour they were—straw, lemon, orange,
brick, Irish-setter, liver, clay; but, as Spaulding said, there were
not many who had the real vivid flame-coloured tint. When I saw how
many were waiting, I would have given it up in despair; but Spaulding
would not hear of it. How he did it I could not imagine, but he pushed
and pulled and butted until he got me through the crowd, and right up
to the steps which led to the office. There was a double stream upon
the stair, some going up in hope, and some coming back dejected; but we
wedged in as well as we could and soon found ourselves in the office.”
“Your experience has been a most entertaining one,” remarked Holmes as
his client paused and refreshed his memory with a huge pinch of snuff.
“Pray continue your very interesting statement.”
“There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs and a
deal table, behind which sat a small man with a head that was even
redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate as he came up,
and then he always managed to find some fault in them which would
disqualify them. Getting a vacancy did not seem to be such a very easy
matter, after all. However, when our turn came the little man was much
more favourable to me than to any of the others, and he closed the door
as we entered, so that he might have a private word with us.
“‘This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,’ said my assistant, ‘and he is willing to
fill a vacancy in the League.’
“‘And he is admirably suited for it,’ the other answered. ‘He has every
requirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything so fine.’ He
took a step backward, cocked his head on one side, and gazed at my hair
until I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly he plunged forward, wrung my
hand, and congratulated me warmly on my success.
“‘It would be injustice to hesitate,’ said he. ‘You will, however, I am
sure, excuse me for taking an obvious precaution.’ With that he seized
my hair in both his hands, and tugged until I yelled with the pain.
‘There is water in your eyes,’ said he as he released me. ‘I perceive
that all is as it should be. But we have to be careful, for we have
twice been deceived by wigs and once by paint. I could tell you tales
of cobbler’s wax which would disgust you with human nature.’ He stepped
over to the window and shouted through it at the top of his voice that
the vacancy was filled. A groan of disappointment came up from below,
and the folk all trooped away in different directions until there was
not a red-head to be seen except my own and that of the manager.
“‘My name,’ said he, ‘is Mr. Duncan Ross, and I am myself one of the
pensioners upon the fund left by our noble benefactor. Are you a
married man, Mr. Wilson? Have you a family?’
“I answered that I had not.
“His face fell immediately.
“‘Dear me!’ he said gravely, ‘that is very serious indeed! I am sorry
to hear you say that. The fund was, of course, for the propagation and
spread of the red-heads as well as for their maintenance. It is
exceedingly unfortunate that you should be a bachelor.’
“My face lengthened at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I was not
to have the vacancy after all; but after thinking it over for a few
minutes he said that it would be all right.
“‘In the case of another,’ said he, ‘the objection might be fatal, but
we must stretch a point in favour of a man with such a head of hair as
yours. When shall you be able to enter upon your new duties?’
“‘Well, it is a little awkward, for I have a business already,’ said I.
“‘Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson!’ said Vincent Spaulding. ‘I
should be able to look after that for you.’
“‘What would be the hours?’ I asked.
“‘Ten to two.’
“Now a pawnbroker’s business is mostly done of an evening, Mr. Holmes,
especially Thursday and Friday evening, which is just before pay-day;
so it would suit me very well to earn a little in the mornings.
Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man, and that he would see
to anything that turned up.
“‘That would suit me very well,’ said I. ‘And the pay?’
“‘Is £ 4 a week.’
“‘And the work?’
“‘Is purely nominal.’
“‘What do you call purely nominal?’
“‘Well, you have to be in the office, or at least in the building, the
whole time. If you leave, you forfeit your whole position forever. The
will is very clear upon that point. You don’t comply with the
conditions if you budge from the office during that time.’
“‘It’s only four hours a day, and I should not think of leaving,’ said
Arthur Conan Doyle — text from Project Gutenberg (eBook #1661)
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