LITMIR.BIZ

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not be prepared to swear to me. This I presume is your celebrated friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”

      I introduced him in a few words, and we both sat down. The stout young man had left us, but his sister still remained with her hand in that of the invalid. She was a striking-looking woman, a little short and thick for symmetry, but with a beautiful olive complexion, large, dark, Italian eyes, and a wealth of deep black hair. Her rich tints made the white 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 happy and successful man, Mr. Holmes, and on the eve of being married, when a sudden and dreadful misfortune wrecked all my prospects in life.

      “I was, as Watson may have told you, in the Foreign Office, and through the influence of my uncle, Lord Holdhurst, I rose rapidly to a responsible position. When my uncle - became foreign minister in this administration he gave me several missions of trust, and as I always brought them to a successful conclusion, he came at last to have the utmost confidence in my ability and tact.

      “Nearly ten weeks ago -- to be more accurate, on the twenty-third of May -- he called me into his private room, and, after complimenting me on the good work which I had done, he informed me that he had a new commission of trust for me to execute.

      “‘This,” said he, taking a gray roll of paper from his bureau, “is the original of that secret treaty between England and Italy of which, I regret to say, some rumours have already got into the public press. It is of enormous importance that nothing further should leak out. The French or the Russian embassy would pay an immense sum to learn the contents of these papers. They should not leave my bureau were it not that it is absolutely necessary to have them copied. You have a desk in your office?”

      “‘Yes, sir.”

      “‘Then take the treaty and lock it up there. I shall give directions that you may remain behind when the others go, so that you may copy it at your leisure without fear of being overlooked. When you have finished, relock both the original and the draft in the desk, and hand them over to me personally to-morrow morning.”

      “I took the papers and --”

      “Excuse me an instant,” said Holmes. “Were you alone during this conversation?”

      “Absolutely.”

      In a large room?

      “Thirty feet each way.”

      “In the centre?”

      “Yes, about it.”

      “And speaking low?”

      “My uncle’s voice is always remarkably low. I hardly spoke at all.”

      “Thank you,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes; pray go on.”

      “I did exactly what he indicated and waited until the other clerks had departed. One of them in my room, Charles Gorot, had some arrears of work to make up, so I left him there and went out to dine. When I returned he was gone. I was anxious to hurry my work, for I knew that Joseph -- the Mr. Harrison whom you saw just now -- was in town, and that he would travel down to Woking by the eleven-o’clock train, and I wanted if possible to catch it.

      “When I came to examine the treaty I saw at once that it was of such importance that my uncle had been guilty of no exaggeration in what he said. Without going into details, I may say that it defined the position of Great Britain towards the Triple Alliance, and foreshadowed the policy which this country would pursue in the event of the French fleet gaining a complete ascendency over that of Italy in the Mediterranean. The questions treated in it were purely naval. At the end were the signatures of the high dignitaries who had signed it. I glanced my eyes over it, and then settled down to my task of copying.

      “It was a long document, written in the French language, and containing twenty-six separate articles. I copied as quickly as I could, but at nine o’clock I had only done nine articles, and it seemed hopeless for me to attempt to catch my train. I was feeling drowsy and stupid, partly from my dinner and also from the effects of a long day’s work. A cup of coffee would clear my brain. A commissionaire remains all night in a little lodge at the foot of the stairs and is in the habit of making coffee at his spirit-lamp for any of the officials who may be working overtime. I rang the bell, therefore, to summon him.

      “To my surprise, it was a woman who answered the summons, a large, coarse-faced, elderly woman, in an apron. She explained that she was the commissionaire’s wife, who did the charing, and I gave her the order for the coffee.

      “I wrote two more articles, and then, feeling more drowsy than ever, I rose and walked up and down the room to stretch my legs. My coffee had not yet come, and I wondered what the cause of the delay could be. Opening the door, I started down the corridor to find out. There was a straight passage, dimly lighted, which led from the room in which I had been working, and was the only exit from it. It ended in a curving staircase, with the commissionaire’s lodge in the passage at the bottom. Halfway down this staircase is a small landing, with another passage running into it at right angles. This second one leads by means of a second small stair to a side door, used by servants, and also as a short cut by clerks when coming from Charles Street. Here is a rough chart of the place.”

      “Thank you. I think that I quite follow you,” said Sherlock Holmes.

      “It is of the utmost importance that you should notice this point. I went down the stairs and into the hall, where I found the commissionaire fast asleep in his box, with the kettle boiling furiously upon the spirit-lamp. I took off the kettle and blew out the lamp, for the water was spurting over the floor. Then I put out my hand and was about to shake the man, who was still sleeping soundly, when a bell over his head rang loudly, and he woke with a start.

      “‘Mr. Phelps, sir!” said he, looking at me in bewilderment.

      “‘I came down to see if my coffee was ready.”

      ““I was boiling the kettle when I fell asleep, sir.” He looked at me and then up at the still quivering bell with an ever-growing astonishment upon his face. -

      “‘If you was here, sir, then who rang the bell?” he asked.

      “‘The bell!” I cried. ‘What bell is it?”

      ““It’s the bell of the room you were working in.”

      “A cold hand seemed to close round my heart. Someone, then, was in that room where my precious treaty lay upon the table. I ran frantically up the stair and along the passage. There was no one in the corridors, Mr. Holmes. There was no one in the room. All was exactly as I left it, save only that the papers which had been committed to my care had been taken from the desk on which they lay. The copy was there, and the original was gone.”

      Holmes sat up in his chair and rubbed his hands. I could see that the problem was entirely to his heart. “Pray what did you do then?” he murmured.

      “I recognized in an instant that the thief must have come up the stairs from the side door. Of course I must have met him if he had come the other way.”

      “You were satisfied that he could not have been concealed in the room all the time, or in the corridor which you have just described as dimly lighted?”

      It is absolutely impossible. A rat could not conceal himself either in the room or the corridor. There is no cover at all.”

      “Thank you. Pray proceed.”

      “The commissionaire, seeing by my pale face that something was to be feared, had followed me upstairs. Now we both rushed along the corridor and down the steep steps which led to Charles Street. The door at the bottom was closed but unlocked. We flung it open and rushed out. I can distinctly remember that as we did so there came three chimes from a neighbouring clock. It was a quarter to ten.”

      “That is of enormous importance,” said Holmes, making a note upon his shirtcuff.

      “The night was very dark,

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