Adventure X. The Naval Treaty
The July which immediately succeeded my marriage was made memorableby three cases of interest, in which I had the privilege of beingassociated with Sherlock Holmes and of studying his methods. I find themrecorded in my notes under the headings of "The Adventure of the SecondStain," "The Adventure of the Naval Treaty," and "The Adventure of theTired Captain." The first of these, however, deals with interest of suchimportance and implicates so many of the first families in the kingdomthat for many years it will be impossible to make it public. No case,however, in which Holmes was engaged has ever illustrated the valueof his analytical methods so clearly or has impressed those who wereassociated with him so deeply. I still retain an almost verbatim reportof the interview in which he demonstrated the true facts of the caseto Monsieur Dubugue of the Paris police, and Fritz von Waldbaum, thewell-known specialist of Dantzig, both of whom had wasted their energiesupon what proved to be side-issues. The new century will have come,however, before the story can be safely told. Meanwhile I pass on tothe second on my list, which promised also at one time to be of nationalimportance, and was marked by several incidents which give it a quiteunique character.
During my school-days I had been intimately associated with a lad namedPercy Phelps, who was of much the same age as myself, though he was twoclasses ahead of me. He was a very brilliant boy, and carried away everyprize which the school had to offer, finished his exploits by winninga scholarship which sent him on to continue his triumphant career atCambridge. He was, I remember, extremely well connected, and even whenwe were all little boys together we knew that his mother's brotherwas Lord Holdhurst, the great conservative politician. This gaudyrelationship did him little good at school. On the contrary, it seemedrather a piquant thing to us to chevy him about the playground and hithim over the shins with a wicket. But it was another thing when hecame out into the world. I heard vaguely that his abilities and theinfluences which he commanded had won him a good position at the ForeignOffice, and then he passed completely out of my mind until the followingletter recalled his existence:
Briarbrae, Woking. My dear Watson,--I have no doubt that you canremember "Tadpole" Phelps, who was in the fifth form when you were inthe third. It is possible even that you may have heard that through myuncle's influence I obtained a good appointment at the Foreign Office,and that I was in a situation of trust and honor until a horriblemisfortune came suddenly to blast my career.
There is no use writing of the details of that dreadful event. In theevent of your acceding to my request it is probable that I shall haveto narrate them to you. I have only just recovered from nine weeks ofbrain-fever, and am still exceedingly weak. Do you think that you couldbring your friend Mr. Holmes down to see me? I should like to have hisopinion of the case, though the authorities assure me that nothing morecan be done. Do try to bring him down, and as soon as possible. Everyminute seems an hour while I live in this state of horrible suspense.Assure him that if I have not asked his advice sooner it was not becauseI did not appreciate his talents, but because I have been off my headever since the blow fell. Now I am clear again, though I dare not thinkof it too much for fear of a relapse. I am still so weak that I have towrite, as you see, by dictating. Do try to bring him.
Your old school-fellow,
Percy Phelps.
There was something that touched me as I read this letter, somethingpitiable in the reiterated appeals to bring Holmes. So moved was Ithat even had it been a difficult matter I should have tried it, butof course I knew well that Holmes loved his art, so that he was everas ready to bring his aid as his client could be to receive it. My wifeagreed with me that not a moment should be lost in laying the matterbefore him, and so within an hour of breakfast-time I found myself backonce more in the old rooms in Baker Street.
Holmes was seated at his side-table clad in his dressing-gown, andworking hard over a chemical investigation. A large curved retortwas boiling furiously in the bluish flame of a Bunsen burner, and thedistilled drops were condensing into a two-litre measure. My friendhardly glanced up as I entered, and I, seeing that his investigationmust be of importance, seated myself in an arm-chair and waited. Hedipped into this bottle or that, drawing out a few drops of each withhis glass pipette, and finally brought a test-tube containing a solutionover to the table. In his right hand he held a slip of litmus-paper.
"You come at a crisis, Watson," said he. "If this paper remains blue,all is well. If it turns red, it means a man's life." He dipped it intothe test-tube and it flushed at once into a dull, dirty crimson. "Hum!I thought as much!" he cried. "I will be at your service in an instant,Watson. You will find tobacco in the Persian slipper." He turned to hisdesk and scribbled off several telegrams, which were handed over to thepage-boy. Then he threw himself down into the chair opposite, and drewup his knees until his fingers clasped round his long, thin shins.
"A very commonplace little murder," said he. "You've got somethingbetter, I fancy. You are the stormy petrel of crime, Watson. What isit?"
I handed him the letter, which he read with the most concentratedattention.
"It does not tell us very much, does it?" he remarked, as he handed itback 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 that yourclient is in close contact with some one who, for good or evil, has anexceptional nature. My interest is already awakened in the case. If youare ready we will start at once for Woking, and see this diplomatist whois in such evil case, and the lady to whom he dictates his letters."
We were fortunate enough to catch an early train at Waterloo, and ina little under an hour we found ourselves among the fir-woods andthe heather of Woking. Briarbrae proved to be a large detached housestanding in extensive grounds within a few minutes' walk of the station.On sending in our cards we were shown into an elegantly appointeddrawing-room, where we were joined in a few minutes by a rather stoutman who received us with much hospitality. His age may have been nearerforty than thirty, but his cheeks were so ruddy and his eyes so merrythat he still conveyed the impression of a plump and mischievous boy.
"I am so glad that you have come," said he, shaking our hands witheffusion. "Percy has been inquiring for you all morning. Ah, poor oldchap, he clings to any straw! His father and his mother asked me to seeyou, for the mere mention of the subject is very painful to them."
"We have had no details yet," observed Holmes. "I perceive that you arenot yourself a member of the family."
Our acquaintance looked surprised, and then, glancing down, he began tolaugh.
"Of course you saw the J H monogram on my locket," said he. "For amoment I thought you had done something clever. Joseph Harrison is myname, and as Percy is to marry my sister Annie I shall at least be arelation by marriage. You will find my sister in his room, for she hasnursed him hand-and-foot this two months back. Perhaps we'd better go inat once, for I know how impatient he is."
The chamber in which we were shown was on the same floor as thedrawing-room. It was furnished partly as a sitting and partly as abedroom, with flowers arranged daintily in every nook and corner. Ayoung man, very pale and worn, was lying upon a sofa near the openwindow, through which came the rich scent of the garden and the balmysummer air. A woman was sitting beside him, 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 that moustache, and Idare say you would not be prepared to swear to me. This I presume isyour celebrated friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"
I introduced him in a few words, and we both sat down. The stout youngman had left us, but his sister still remained with her hand in that ofthe invalid. She w
as a striking-looking woman, a little short andthick for symmetry, but with a beautiful olive complexion, large, dark,Italian eyes, and a wealth of deep black hair. Her rich tints made thewhite face of her companion the more worn and haggard by the contrast.
"I won't waste your time," said he, raising himself upon the sofa."I'll plunge into the matter without further preamble. I was a happyand successful man, Mr. Holmes, and on the eve of being married, when asudden and dreadful misfortune wrecked all my prospects in life.