"This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in
the matter. He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was
the relation between them, and what the object of his repeated
visits? Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the
former, she had probably transferred the photograph to his keep-
ing. If the latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this question
depended whether I should continue my work at Briony Lodge,
or turn my attention to the gentleman's chambers in the Temple.

It was a delicate point. and it widened the field of my inquiry.

I fear that I bore you with these details, but I have to let you
see my little difficulties. if you are to understand the situation."

"I am following you closely," I answered.

"I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom
cab drove up to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He
was a remarkably handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached
-- evidently the man of whom I had heard. He appeared to be in
a great hurry, shouted to the cabman to wait, and brushed past
the maid who opened the door with the air of a man who was
thoroughly at home.

"He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch
glimpses of him in the windows of the sitting-room, pacing up
and down, talking excitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I
could see nothing. Presently he emerged, looking even more
flurried than before. As he stepped up to the cab, he pulled a
gold watch from his pocket and looked at it earnestly, 'Drive like
the devil,' he shouted, 'first to Gross & Hankey's in Regent
Street, and then to the Church of St. Monica in the Edgeware
Road. Half a guinea if you do it in twenty minutes!'
"Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should
not do well to follow them when up the lane came a neat little
landau, the coachman with his coat only half-buttoned, and his
tie under his ear, while all the tags of his harness were sticking
out of the buckles. It hadn't pulled up 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 balanc-
ing 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 the 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 clergy-
man, 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
towards 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 appear-
ance 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 l; "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 comer of the street."

"Precisely."

"Then you may entirely rely on me."

"That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I
prepare for the new role I have to play."

He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few min-
utes in the character of an amiable and simple-minded Noncon-
formist 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 equalled. It was not merely that Holmes changed his cos-
tume. 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
neighbourhood, 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 flirt-
ing 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 pho-
tograph 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 secre-
tive, and they like to do their own secreting. Why should she
hand it over to anyone else? She could trust her own guardian-
ship, but she could not tell what indirect or political influence
might be brought to bear upon a business man. Besides, remem-
ber 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 burgled."

"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
hcr carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter."

As he spoke the gleam of the side-lights 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 centre of a little knot of flushed and 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 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 comfort-
able 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 lit, 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 up 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, ostlers,
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 in ten minutes was rejoiced to find
my friend's arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of
uproar. He walked swiftly and in silence for some few minutes
until we had turned down one of the quiet streets which lead
towards the Edgeware Road.

"You did it very nicely, Doctor," he remarked. "Nothing
could have been better. It is all right."

"You have the photograph?"

"I know where it is."

"And how did you find out?"

"She showed me, as I told you she would."

"I am still in the dark."

"I do not wish to make a mystery," said he, laughing. "The
matter was perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone
in the street was an accomplice. They were all engaged for the
evening."

"I guessed as much."

"Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint
in the palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down. clapped my
hand to my face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old
trick."

"That also I could fathom."

"Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in.

What else could she do? And into her sitting-room. which was
the very room which I suspected. It lay between that and her
bedroom, and I was determined to see which. They laid me on a
couch, I motioned for air, they were compelled to open the
window. and you had your chance."

"How did that help you?"

"It was all-important. When a woman thinks that her house is
on fire, her instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she
values most. It is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have
more than once taken advantage of it. In the case of the Darling-
ton substitution scandal it was of use to me, and also in the
Arnsworth Castle business. A married woman grabs at her baby;
an unmarried one reaches for her jewel-box. Now it was clear to
me that our lady of to-day had nothing in the house more
precious to her than what we are in quest of. She would rush to
secure it. The alarm of fire was admirably done. The smoke and
shouting were enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded
beautifully. The photograph is in a recess behind a sliding panel
just above the right bell-pull. She was there in an instant, and I
caught a glimpse of it as she half-drew it out. When I cried out
that it was a false alarm, she replaced it, glanced at the rocket,
rushed from the room, and I have not seen her since. I rose, and,
making my excuses, escaped from the house. I hesitated whether
to attempt to secure the photograph at once; but the coachman
had come in, and as he was watching me narrowly it seemed
safer to wait. A little over-precipitance may ruin all."

"And now?" I asked.

"Our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the King
to-morrow, and with you, if you care to come with us. We will
be shown into the sitting-room to wait for the lady; but it is
probable that when she comes she may find neither us nor the
photograph. It might be a satisfaction to his Majesty to regain it
with his own hands."

"And when will you call?"

"At eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shall
have a clear field. Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriage
may mean a complete change in her life and habits. I must wire
to the King without delay."

We had reached Baker Street and had stopped at the door. He
was searching his pockets for the key when someone passing
said:
"Good-night, Mister Sherlock Holmes."

There were several people on the pavement at the time, but the
greeting appeared to come from a slim youth in an ulster who
had hurried by.

"I've heard that voice before," said Holmes, staring down the
dimly lit street. "Now, I wonder who the deuce that could have
been."

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 an-
noyance. 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 Char-
ing 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 furni-
ture 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 up-
stairs, 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, nee 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 photogMph!" 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.