The Hound of the Baskervilles and Other Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

overheard?”

      “It is out of the question.”

      Did you ever mention to anyone that it was your intention to give anyone the treaty to be copied?”

      “Never.”

      You are certain of that?”

      “Absolutely.”

      Well, since you never said so, and Mr. Phelps never said so, and nobody else knew anything of the matter, then the thief’s presence in the room was purely accidental. He saw his chance and he took it.”

      The statesman smiled. “You take me out of my province there,” said he.

      Holmes considered for a moment. “There is another very important point which I wish to discuss with you,” said he. “You feared, as I understand, that very grave results might follow from the details of this treaty becoming known.”

      A shadow passed over the expressive face of the statesman. “Very grave results indeed.”

      “And have they occurred?”

      “Not yet.”

      “If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or Russian Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?”

      “I should,” said Lord Holdhurst with a wry face.

      “Since nearly ten weeks have elapsed, then, and nothing has been heard, it is not unfair to suppose that for some reason the treaty has not reached them.”

      Lord Holdhurst shrugged his shoulders.

      “We can hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the thief took the treaty in order to frame it and hang it up.”

      “Perhaps he is waiting for a better price.”

      “If he waits a little longer he will get no price at all. The treaty will cease to be secret in a few months.”

      “That is most important,” said Holmes. Of course, it is a possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden illness --”

      “An attack of brain-fever, for example?” asked the statesman, flashing a swift glance at him.

      “I did not say so,” said Holmes imperturbably. “And now Lord Holdhurst, we have already taken up too much of your valuable time, and we shall wish you good-day.”

      “Every success to your investigation, be the criminal who it may,” answered the nobleman as he bowed us out at the door.

      “He’s a fine fellow,” said Holmes as we came out into Whitehall. “But he has a struggle to keep up his position. He is far from rich and has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his boots had been resoled. Now, Watson, I won’t detain you from your legitimate work any longer. I shall do nothing more to-day unless I have an answer to my cab advertisement. But I should be extremely obliged to you if you would come down with me to Woking to-morrow by the same train which we took yesterday.”

      I met him accordingly next morning and we travelled down to Woking together. He had had no answer to his advertisement, he said, and no fresh light had been thrown upon the case. He had, when he so willed it, the utter immobility of countenance of a red Indian, and I could not gather from his appearance whether he was satisfied or not with the position of the case. His conversation, I remember, was about the Bertillon system of measurements, and he expressed his enthusiastic admiration of the French savant.

      We found our client still under the charge of his devoted nurse, but looking considerably better than before. He rose from the sofa and greeted us without difficulty when we entered.

      “Any news?” he asked eagerly.

      My report, as I expected, is a negative one,” said Holmes. “I have seen Forbes, and I have seen your uncle, and I have set one or two trains of inquiry upon foot which may lead to something.”

      “You have not lost heart, then?”

      By no means.”

      “God bless you for saying that!” cried Miss Harrison. “If we keep our courage and our patience the truth must come out.”

      “We have more to tell you than you have for us,” said Phelps, reseating himself upon the couch.

      “I hoped you might have something.”

      “Yes, we have had an adventure during the night, and one which might have proved to be a serious one.” His expression grew very grave as he spoke, and a look of something akin to fear sprang up in his eyes. “Do you know,” said he, “that I begin to believe that I am the unconscious centre of some monstrous conspiracy, and that my life is aimed at as well as my honour?”

      “Ah!” cried Holmes.

      It sounds incredible, for I have not, as far as I know, an enemy in the world. Yet from last night’s experience I can come to no other conclusion.”

      “Pray let me hear it.”

      You must know that last night was the very first night that I have ever slept without a nurse in the room. I was so much better that I thought I could dispense with one. I had a night-light burning, however. Well, about two in the morning I had sunk into a light sleep when I was suddenly aroused by a slight noise. It was like the sound which a mouse makes when it is gnawing a plank, and I lay listening to it for some time under the impression that it must come from that cause. Then it grew louder, and suddenly there came from the window a sharp metallic snick. I sat up in amazement. There could be no doubt what the sounds were now. The first ones had been caused by someone forcing an instrument through the slit between the sashes and the second by the catch being pressed back.

      “There was a pause then for about ten minutes, as if the person were waiting to see whether the noise had awakened me. Then I heard a gentle creaking as the window was very slowly opened. I could stand it no longer, for my nerves are not what they used to be. I sprang out of bed and flung open the shutters. A man was crouching at the window. I could see little of him, for he was gone like a flash. He was wrapped in some sort of cloak which came across the lower part of his face. One thing only I am sure of, and that is that he had some weapon in his hand. It looked to me like a long knife. I distinctly saw the gleam of it as he turned to run.”

      “This is most interesting,” said Holmes. “Pray what did you do then?”

      “I should have followed him through the open window if I had been stronger. As it was, I rang the bell and roused the house. It took some little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen and the servants all sleep upstairs. I shouted, however, and that brought Joseph down, and he roused the others. Joseph and the groom found marks on the bed outside the window, but the weather has been so dry lately that they found it hopeless to follow the trail across the grass. There’s a place, however, on the wooden fence which skirts the road which shows signs, they tell me, as if someone had got over, and had snapped the top of the rail in doing so. I have said nothing to the local police yet, for I thought I had best have your opinion first.”

      This tale of our client’s appeared to have an extraordinary effect upon Sherlock Holmes. He rose from his chair and paced about the room in uncontrollable excitement.

      “Misfortunes never come single,” said Phelps, smiling, though it was evident that his adventure had somewhat shaken him.

      “You have certainly had your share,” said Holmes. “Do you think you could walk round the house with me?”