The Exploits of Sherlock Holmes

The cherubic smile faded from the ruffian's face. 'How the devil do you know where I've come from!' he shrilled.

'Tut, man, today's Southern Cup racing-programme is peeping out of your pocket. However, as I am a trifle fastidious in my choice of company, kindly come to the point and put a close to this interview.'

Boyce's lips curled back suddenly like the grin of some ill-conditioned dog.

'I'll put a close to something more than that, you nosey-parking busybody, if you get up to anymore of  your flash tricks,' he snarled. 'Keep out of Madame's business or—' he paused significantly, his beady little eyes fixed immovably upon my friend's face—'or you'll be sorry you were ever born, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,' he concluded softly.

Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands.

'This is really most satisfactory,' said he. 'So you come from Madame von Lammerain?'

'Dear me, what indiscretion!' cried Boyce, his left hand sliding stealthily to his malacca cane. 'I had hoped that you would take a word of warning, but instead you make free with the names of other folk. And so—' in an instant he had whipped off the hollow body of the stick, leaving in his other hand the grip and the long, evil razor- blade that was attached to it '—and so, Mr. Sher­lock Holmes, I must make good my words.'

'To which I trust, Watson, that you have paid the attention they deserve,' remarked Holmes.

'Certainly!' I replied loudly.

Footman Boyce stopped in his tracks and then, as I emerged from the bedroom armed with a heavy brass candlestick, he leapt for the sitting-room door. On the threshold, he turned for a moment toward us, his little eyes flaming evilly in his great crimson face while a flood of foul imprecations poured from his lips.

'That will do!' interrupted Holmes sternly. 'Inci­dentally, Boyce, I have wondered more than once how you murdered Madgern, the trainer. No razor was found on you at the time. Now, I know.

The ruddiness faded slowly from the man's features leaving them the colour of dirty putty.

'My God, Mr. Holmes, surely you don't think—only a little joke, sir, among old friends—!' Then, springing through the door, he slammed it behind him and went clattering wildly down the stairs.

My friend laughed heartily. 'Well, well. We are hardly likely to be bothered any further by Mr. Footman Boyce,' said he. 'Nevertheless, the fellow's visit has done me a good turn.'

'In what way?'

'It is the first ray of light in my darkness, Watson. What have they to fear from my investigations unless there is something to be discovered? But get your hat and coat and we will call together on this unhappy Duchess of Carringford.'

Our visit was a brief one and yet I will long recall the memory of that courageous and still beautiful woman who, through no fault of her own, now stood face to face with the most terrible calamity that fate could have devised. The widow of a great statesman, the bearer of a name revered throughout the country, the mother of a young and lovely girl on the eve of her wedding to a public man and then, overnight, this dreadful discovery of a secret, the publication of which must destroy irrevocably the very fabric of her life and being. Here was enough to justify the extremes of human emotion. Instead, when my friend and I were ushered into the drawing-room of Carringford House in Portland Place, the lady who rose to meet us was as distinguished for the grace of her manner as for the beauty of her complexion and her delicate, serene features. It was only in the dark stains beneath her eyelids and the too brilliant lustre of her hazel-tinted eyes that one sensed the dreadful tensity that was eating its way through her heart.

'You have news for me, Mr. Holmes?' she said calmly enough, but I noticed that one of her long, slim hands flew to her bosom. 'The truth cannot be worse than this suspense, so I beg that you will be frank with me.'

Holmes bowed. 'I have no news as yet, Your Grace,' he said gently. 'I am here to ask you one question and to make one request.'

The duchess sank into a chair and, picking up a fan, fixed her fevered brilliant eyes upon my friend's face. 'And these are?'

'The question is one which can be forgiven from a stranger only under the stress of the present circumstances,' said Holmes. 'You were married for thirty years to the late duke. Was he a man of honourable conduct in his sense of private responsibility as distinct from his moral code? I will ask Your Grace to be very frank with me in your reply.'

'Mr. Holmes, during the years of our marriage, we had our quarrels and our disagreements, but never once did I know my husband to stoop to an unworthy action or lower the standard which he had set himself in life. His career in politics was not made the more easy by a sense of honour that would not descend to the artifices of compromise. He was a man whose character was nobler than his position.'

'You have told me all that I wished to know,' answered Holmes. 'Though I do not indulge in emotions of the heart, I am not among those who consider that love makes blind. With a mind of any intelligence, the effect should be the exact opposite, for it must promote the most privileged knowledge of the other's character. Your Grace, we are face to face with necessity and time is not on our side.' Holmes leaned forward earnestly. 'I must see the original documents of this alleged marriage in Valence.'

'It is hopeless, Mr. Holmes!' cried the duchess. 'This dreadful woman will never let them out of her hands, save at her own infamous price.'

'Then we must summon craft to our aid. You must send her a carefully worded letter, now, conveying the impression that you will be driven to comply with her demands if once you are convinced that the marriage documents are really genuine. Implore her to receive you privately at her house in St. James's Square at eleven o'clock tonight. Will you do this?'

'Anything, save what she asks.'

'Good! Then one final point. It is essential that you find some pretext at exactly twenty minutes past eleven to draw her from the library containing the safe in which she keeps these documents.'

'But she will take them with her.'

'That is of no importance.'

'How can you be sure that the safe is in the library?'

'I have a plan of the house, thanks to a small service once rendered to the firm who rented the property to Madame von Lammerain. Furthermore, I have seen it.'

'You have seen it!'

'A window was broken mysteriously yesterday morn­ing' smiled Holmes, 'and the agents very promptly sup­plied a glazier. It had occurred to me that there might be advantages.'

The Duchess leaned forward, her hand to her heaving breast. 'What do you propose to do?' she demanded almost fiercely.

'That is a question in which I must use my own judge­ment, Your Grace,' replied Holmes, springing to his feet. 'If I fail, I will do so in a good cause.'

We were making our adieux when the duchess laid her hand on my friend's arm.

'If you examine these terrible documents and convince yourself that they are genuine, will you remove them?' she asked.

There was a hint of concern under Holmes's austere manner as he looked at her. 'No,' he said quietly.

'You are right!' she cried. 'I would not have them taken. A hideous wrong must be righted, whatever the cost to myself. It is only when I think of my daughter that all the courage goes from my heart.'

'It is because I recognize that courage,' said Holmes very gently, 'that I warn you to prepare for the worst.'

During the remainder of the day, my friend was in his most restless mood. He smoked incessantly until the atmosphere of our sitting-room was hardly bearable and, having exhausted all the daily newspapers, he threw the lot of them into the coal-scuttle and set himself to pacing up and down with his hands clasped behind his back and his thin, eager face thrust out before him. Then he came to the fireplace and, leaning his elbow on the mantelpiece, looked down at me as I lounged in my chair.

'Are you game to commit a serious breach of the law, Watson?' he asked.

'Most certainly, Holmes, in an honourable cause.'

'It is hardly fair on you, my dear fellow,' he cried, 'for it will go hard with us if we are caught on that woman's premises.'

'But what is the use?' I demurred. 'We cannot conceal the truth.'