“We shall see.” He pushed past the servant and rushed into thedrawing-room， followed by the King and myself. The furniturewas scattered about in every direction， with dismantled shelvesand open drawers， as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked thembefore her flight. Holmes rushed at the bell-pull， tore back a smallsliding shutter， and， plunging in his hand， pulled out a photographand a letter. The photograph was of Irene Adler herself in eveningdress， the letter was superscribed to “Sherlock Holmes， Esq. To beleft till called for.” My friend tore it open， and we all three read ittogether. It was dated at midnight of the preceding night and ranin this way：
“MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES：
You really did it very well. You took me in completely. Until afterthe alarm of fire， I had not a suspicion. But then， when I found howI had betrayed myself， I began to think. I had been warned againstyou months ago. I had been told that， if the King employed anagent， it would certainly be you. And your address had been givenme. Yet， with all this， you made me reveal what you wanted to know.
Even after I became suspicious， I found it hard to think evil of sucha dear， kind old clergyman. But， you know， I have been trained asan actress myself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I often takeadvantage of the freedom which it gives. I sent John， the coachman，to watch you， ran upstairs， got into my walking clothes， as I callthem， and came down just as you departed.
“Well， I followed you to your door， and so made sure that I wasreally an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
Then I， rather imprudently， wished you good-night， and started forthe Temple to see my husband.
“We both thought the best resource was flight， when pursued byso formidable an antagonist； so you will find the nest empty whenyou call to-morrow. As to the photograph， your client may rest inpeace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. The King maydo what he will without hindrance from one whom he has cruellywronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself， and to preserve aweapon which will always secure me from any steps which he mighttake in the future. I leave a photograph which he might care topossess； and I remain， dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes，“Very truly yours，
“IRENE NORTON， née ADLER.”
“What a woman—oh， what a woman！” cried the King ofBohemia， when we had all three read this epistle. “Did I not tellyou how quick and resolute she was？ Would she not have made anadmirable queen？ Is it not a pity that she was not on my level？”
“From what I have seen of the lady， she seems， indeed， to be ona very different level to your Majesty，” said Holmes coldly. “I amsorry that I have not been able to bring your Majesty’s business toa more successful conclusion.”
“On the contrary， my dear sir，” cried the King； “nothing could bemore successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The photographis now as safe as if it were in the fire.”
“I am glad to hear your Majesty say so.”
“I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way Ican reward you. This ring——” He slipped an emerald snake ringfrom his finger and held it out upon the palm of his hand.
“Your Majesty has something which I should value even morehighly，” said Holmes.
“You have but to name it.”
“This photograph！”
The King stared at him in amazement.
“Irene’s photograph！” he cried. “Certainly， if you wish it.”
“I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in thematter. I have the honour to wish you a very good-morning.” Hebowed， and， turning away without observing the hand which the Kinghad stretched out to him， he set off in my company for his chambers.
And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect thekingdom of Bohemia， and how the best plans of Mr. SherlockHolmes were beaten by a woman’s wit. He used to make merryover the cleverness of women， but I have not heard him do it oflate. And when he speaks of Irene Adler， or when he refers to herphotograph， it is always under the honourable title of the woman.
The Red-Headed League
I had called upon my friend， Mr. Sherlock Holmes， one day inthe autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation witha very stout， florid-faced， elderly gentleman with fiery red hair.
With an apology for my intrusion， I was about to withdraw whenHolmes pulled me abruptly into the room and closed the doorbehind me.
“You could not possibly have come at a better time， my dearWatson，” he said cordially.
“I was afraid that you were engaged.”
“So I am. Very much so.”
“Then I can wait in the next room.”
“Not at all. This gentleman， Mr. Wilson， has been my partnerand helper in many of my most successful cases， and I have nodoubt that he will be of the utmost use to me in yours also.”
The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and gave a bob ofgreeting， with a quick little questioning glance from his small fatencircledeyes.
“Try the settee，” said Holmes， relapsing into his armchairand putting his fingertips together， as was his custom when injudicial moods. “I know， my dear Watson， that you share my loveof all that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrumroutine of everyday life. You have shown your relish for it by theenthusiasm which has prompted you to chronicle， and， if you willexcuse my saying so， somewhat to embellish so many of my ownlittle adventures.”
“Your cases have indeed been of the greatest interest to me，” Iobserved.
“You will remember that I remarked the other day， just beforewe went into the very simple problem presented by Miss MarySutherland， that for strange effects and extraordinary combinationswe must go to life itself， which is always far more daring than anyeffort of the imagination.”
