sherlock holmes | Page 5

cloak and laid it on
the table. “There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in notes,” he said.
Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-book and handed it to him.
“And Mademoiselle's address?” he asked.
“Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood.”
Holmes took a note of it. “One other question,” said he. “Was the photograph
a cabinet?” “It was.”
“Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon have some
good news for you. And good-night, Watson,” he added, as the wheels of the royal
brougham rolled down the street. “If you will be good enough to call to-morrow
afternoon at three o'clock I should like to chat this little matter over with you.”
II
At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had not yet returned.
The landlady informed me that he had left the house shortly after eight o'clock in
the morning. I sat down beside the re, however, with the intention of awaiting
him, however long he might be. I was already deeply interested in his inquiry, for,
though it was surrounded by none of the grim and strange features which were
associated with the two crimes which I have already recorded, still, the nature of
the case and the exalted station of his client gave it a character of its own. Indeed,
apart from the nature of the investigation which my friend had on hand, there was
something in his masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning,
which made it a pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow the
quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the most inextricable mysteries.
So accustomed was I to his invariable success that the very possibility of his failing
had ceased to enter into my head. It was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken-looking groom,
ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an inamed face and disreputable clothes, walk-
ed into the room. Accustomed as I was to my friend's amazing powers in the use of
disguises, I had to look three times before I was certain that it was indeed he. With
a nod he vanished into the bedroom, whence he emerged in ve minutes tweed-
suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his hands into his pockets, he stretched
out his legs in front of the re and laughed heartily for some minutes.
“Well, really!” he cried, and then he choked and laughed again until he was
obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair. “What is it?”
“It's quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I employed my
morning, or what I ended by doing.”

ADVENTURE I. A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA
11
“I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the habits, and perhaps
the house, of Miss Irene Adler.” “Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, however. I left the
house a little after eight o'clock this morning in the character of a groom out of
work. There is a wonderful sympathy and freemasonry among horsey men. Be one
of them, and you will know all that there is to know. I soon found Briony Lodge.
It is a bijou villa, with a garden at the back, but built out in front right up to the
road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door. Large sitting-room on the right side, well
furnished, with long windows almost to the oor, and those preposterous English
window fasteners which a child could open. Behind there was nothing remarkable,
save that the passage window could be reached from the top of the coach-house.
I walked round it and examined it closely from every point of view, but without
noting anything else of interest. “I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that there was a mews
in a lane which runs down by one wall of the garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in
rubbing down their horses, and received in exchange twopence, a glass of half and
half, two lls of shag tobacco, and as much information as I could desire about
Miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen other people in the neighbourhood in
whom I was not in the least interested, but whose biographies I was compelled to
listen to.”
“And what of Irene Adler?” I asked.
“Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in that part. She is the daintiest
thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the Serpentine-mews, to a man. She
lives quietly, sings at concerts, drives out at ve every day, and returns at seven
sharp for dinner. Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings. Has only
one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, handsome, and dashing, never
calls less than once a day, and often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey Norton, of the
Inner Temple. See the advantages of a cabman as a condant. They had driven him
home a dozen times from Serpentine-mews, and knew all about him. When I