I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed meback into my chair. “It is both, or none,” said he. “You may saybefore this gentleman anything which you may say to me.”
The Count shrugged his broad shoulders. “Then I must begin,”
said he, “by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years;at the end of that time the matter will be of no importance. Atpresent it is not too much to say that it is of such weight it mayhave an influence upon European history.”
“I promise,” said Holmes.
“And I.”
“You will excuse this mask,” continued our strange visitor. “Theaugust person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown toyou, and I may confess at once that the title by which I have justcalled myself is not exactly my own.”
“I was aware of it,” said Holmes dryly.
“The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precautionhas to be taken to quench what might grow to be an immensescandal and seriously compromise one of the reigning families ofEurope. To speak plainly, the matter implicates the great House ofOrmstein, hereditary kings of Bohemia.”
“I was also aware of that,” murmured Holmes, settling himselfdown in his armchair and closing his eyes.
Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid,lounging figure of the man who had been no doubt depicted tohim as the most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent inEurope. Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatientlyat his gigantic client.
“If your Majesty would condescend to state your case,” heremarked, “I should be better able to advise you.”
The man sprang from his chair and paced up and downthe room in uncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture ofdesperation, he tore the mask from his face and hurled it upon theground. “You are right,” he cried; “I am the King. Why should Iattempt to conceal it?”
“Why, indeed?” murmured Holmes. “Your Majesty had notspoken before I was aware that I was addressing WilhelmGottsreich Sigismond von Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, and hereditary King of Bohemia.”
“But you can understand,” said our strange visitor, sitting downonce more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, “youcan understand that I am not accustomed to doing such businessin my own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could notconfide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I havecome incognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting you.”
“Then, pray consult,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more.
“The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during alengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the wellknownadventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar toyou.”
“Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor,” murmured Holmeswithout opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a systemof docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that itwas difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could notat once furnish information. In this case I found her biographysandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a staffcommanderwho had written a monograph upon the deep-seafishes.
“Let me see!” said Holmes. “Hum! Born in New Jersey in theyear 1858. Contralto—hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna ImperialOpera of Warsaw—yes! Retired from operatic stage—ha! Livingin London—quite so! Your Majesty, as I understand, becameentangled with this young person, wrote her some compromisingletters, and is now desirous of getting those letters back.”
“Precisely so. But how——”
“Was there a secret marriage?”
“None.”
“No legal papers or certificates?”
“None.”
“Then I fail to follow your Majesty. If this young person shouldproduce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is sheto prove their authenticity?”
“There is the writing.”
“Pooh, pooh! Forgery.”
“My private note-paper.”
“Stolen.”
“My own seal.”
“Imitated.”
“My photograph.”
“Bought.”
“We were both in the photograph.”
“Oh, dear! That is very bad! Your Majesty has indeed committedan indiscretion.”
“I was mad—insane.”
“You have compromised yourself seriously.”
“I was only Crown Prince then. I was young. I am but thirtynow.”
“It must be recovered.”
“We have tried and failed.”
“Your Majesty must pay. It must be bought.”
“She will not sell.”
“Stolen, then.”
“Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransackedher house. Once we diverted her luggage when she travelled. Twiceshe has been waylaid. There has been no result.”
“No sign of it?”
“Absolutely none.”
Holmes laughed. “It is quite a pretty little problem,” said he.
“But a very serious one to me,” returned the King reproachfully.
“Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with thephotograph?”
“To ruin me.”
“But how?”
“I am about to be married.”
“So I have heard.”
“To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meningen, second daughter ofthe King of Scandinavia. You may know the strict principles of herfamily. She is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a doubtas to my conduct would bring the matter to an end.”
“And Irene Adler?”
“Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. Iknow that she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soul ofsteel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women, and the mindof the most resolute of men. Rather than I should marry anotherwoman, there are no lengths to which she would not go—none.”
“You are sure that she has not sent it yet?”
“I am sure.”
“And why?”
“Because she has said that she would send it on the day whenthe betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday.”
“Oh, then we have three days yet,” said Holmes with a yawn.
“That is very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importanceto look into just at present. Your Majesty will, of course, stay inLondon for the present?”
“Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name ofthe Count Von Kramm.”
“Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress.”
“Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety.”
“Then, as to money?”
“You have carte blanche.”
“Absolutely?”