“Therearethreehundredpoundsingoldandsevenhundredinnotes,”hesaid.
Holmesscribbledareceiptuponasheetofhisnote-bookandhandedittohim.
“AndMademoiselle’saddress?”heasked.
“IsBrionyLodge,SerpentineAvenue,St.John’sWood.”
Holmestookanoteofit.“Oneotherquestion,”saidhe.“Wasthephotographacabinet?”
“Itwas.”
“Then,good-night,yourMajesty,andItrustthatweshallsoonhavesomegoodnewsforyou.Andgood-night,Watson,”headded,asthewheelsoftheroyalbroughamrolleddownthestreet.“Ifyouwillbegoodenoughtocallto-morrowafternoonatthreeo’clockIshouldliketochatthislittlematteroverwithyou.”
II.
Atthreeo’clockpreciselyIwasatBakerStreet,butHolmeshadnotyetreturned.Thelandladyinformedmethathehadleftthehouseshortlyaftereighto’clockinthemorning.Isatdownbesidethefire,however,withtheintentionofawaitinghim,howeverlonghemightbe.Iwasalreadydeeplyinterestedinhisinquiry,for,thoughitwassurroundedbynoneofthegrimandstrangefeatureswhichwereassociatedwiththetwocrimeswhichIhavealreadyrecorded,still,thenatureofthecaseandtheexaltedstationofhisclientgaveitacharacterofitsown.Indeed,apartfromthenatureoftheinvestigationwhichmyfriendhadonhand,therewassomethinginhismasterlygraspofasituation,andhiskeen,incisivereasoning,whichmadeitapleasuretometostudyhissystemofwork,andtofollowthequick,subtlemethodsbywhichhedisentangledthemostinextricablemysteries.SoaccustomedwasItohisinvariablesuccessthattheverypossibilityofhisfailinghadceasedtoenterintomyhead.
Itwascloseuponfourbeforethedooropened,andadrunken-lookinggroom,ill-kemptandside-whiskered,withaninflamedfaceanddisreputableclothes,walkedintotheroom.AccustomedasIwastomyfriend’samazingpowersintheuseofdisguises,IhadtolookthreetimesbeforeIwascertainthatitwasindeedhe.Withanodhevanishedintothebedroom,whenceheemergedinfiveminutestweed-suitedandrespectable,asofold.Puttinghishandsintohispockets,hestretchedouthislegsinfrontofthefireandlaughedheartilyforsomeminutes.
“Well,really!”hecried,andthenhechokedandlaughedagainuntilhewasobligedtolieback,limpandhelpless,inthechair.
“Whatisit?”
“It’squitetoofunny.IamsureyoucouldneverguesshowIemployedmymorning,orwhatIendedbydoing.”
“Ican’timagine.Isupposethatyouhavebeenwatchingthehabits,andperhapsthehouse,ofMissIreneAdler.”
“Quitesobutthesequelwasratherunusual.Iwilltellyou,however.Ileftthehousealittleaftereighto’clockthismorninginthecharacterofagroomoutofwork.Thereisawonderfulsympathyandfreemasonryamonghorseymen.Beoneofthem,andyouwillknowallthatthereistoknow.IsoonfoundBrionyLodge.Itisabijouvilla,withagardenattheback,butbuiltoutinfrontrightuptotheroad,twostories.Chubblocktothedoor.Largesitting-roomontherightside,wellfurnished,withlongwindowsalmosttothefloor,andthosepreposterousEnglishwindowfastenerswhichachildcouldopen.Behindtherewasnothingremarkable,savethatthepassagewindowcouldbereachedfromthetopofthecoach-house.Iwalkedrounditandexamineditcloselyfromeverypointofview,butwithoutnotinganythingelseofinterest.
“Ithenloungeddownthestreetandfound,asIexpected,thattherewasamewsinalanewhichrunsdownbyonewallofthegarden.Ilenttheostlersahandinrubbingdowntheirhorses,andreceivedinexchangetwopence,aglassofhalf-and-half,twofillsofshagtobacco,andasmuchinformationasIcoulddesireaboutMissAdler,tosaynothingofhalfadozenotherpeopleintheneighbourhoodinwhomIwasnotintheleastinterested,butwhosebiographiesIwascompelledtolistento.”
“AndwhatofIreneAdler?”Iasked.
“Oh,shehasturnedallthemen’sheadsdowninthatpart.Sheisthedaintiestthingunderabonnetonthisplanet.SosaytheSerpentine-mews,toaman.Shelivesquietly,singsatconcerts,drivesoutatfiveeveryday,andreturnsatsevensharpfordinner.Seldomgoesoutatothertimes,exceptwhenshesings.Hasonlyonemalevisitor,butagooddealofhim.Heisdark,handsome,anddashing,nevercallslessthanonceaday,andoftentwice.HeisaMr.GodfreyNorton,oftheInnerTemple.Seetheadvantagesofacabmanasaconfidant.TheyhaddrivenhimhomeadozentimesfromSerpentine-mews,andknewallab