My friend hardly glanced up as I entered, and I, seeing that his investigationmust be of importance, seated myself in an arm-chair and waited. He dipped into thisbottle or that, drawing out a few drops of each with his glass pipette, and finallybrought a test-tube containing a solution over to the table. In his right hand he had aslip of litmus-paper.
　　'You come at a crisis, Watson,' said he. 'If this paper remains blue, all is well. If itturns red, it means a man's life.' He dipped it into the test-tube, and it flushed at onceinto a dull, dirty crimson. 'Hum! I thought as much!' he cried. 'I shall be at yourservice in one instant, Watson. You will find tobacco in the Persian slipper.' He turnedto his desk and scribbled off several telegrams, which were handed over to thepage-boy. Then he threw himself down in the chair opposite, and drew up his kneesuntil his fingers clasped round his long, thin shins.
　　'A very commonplace little murder,' said he. 'You've got something better, I fancy.You are the stormy petrel of crime, Watson. What is it?'
　　I handed him the letter, which he read with the most concentrated attention.
　　'It does not tell us very much, does it?' he remarked, as he handed it back to me.
　　'Hardly anything.'
　　'And yet the writing is not his own.'
　　'Precisely. It is a woman's.'
　　'A man's surely!' I cried.
　　'No, a woman's; and a woman of rare character. You see, at the commencement ofan investigation, it is something to know that your client is in close contact withsomeone who for good or evil has an exceptional nature. My interest is alreadyawakened in the case. If you are ready, we will start at once for Woking and see thisdiplomatist who is in such evil case, and the lady to whom he dictates his letters.'
　　We were fortunate enough to catch an early train at Waterloo, and in a little underan hour we found ourselves among the fir-woods and the heather of Woking.Briarbrae proved to be a large detached house standing in extensive grounds, within afew minutes' walk of the station. On sending in our cards we were shown into anelegantly appointed drawing-room, where we were joined in a few minutes by a ratherstout man, who received us with much hospitality. His age may have been nearer fortythan thirty, but his cheeks were so ruddy and his eyes so merry, that he still conveyedthe impression of a plump and mischievous boy.
　　'I am so glad that you have come' said he, shaking our hands with effusion. 'Percyhas been inquiring for you all the morning. Ah, poor old chap, he clings to any straw.His father and mother asked me to see you, for the mere mention of the subject is verypainful to them.'
　　'We have had no details yet,' observed Holmes. 'I perceive that you are notyourself a member of the family.'
　　Our acquaintance looked surprised, and then glancing down he began to laugh.
　　'Of course you saw the "J. H." Monogram on my locket,' said he. 'For a moment Ithought you had done something clever. Joseph Harrison is my name, and as Percy isto marry my sister Annie, I shall at least be a relation by marriage. You will find mysister in his room, for she has nursed him hand-and-foot these two months back.Perhaps we had better go in at once, for I know how impatient he is.'
　　The chamber into which we were shown was on the same floor as thedrawing-room. It was furnished partly as a sitting- and partly as a bedroom, withflowers arranged daintily in every nook and corner. A young man, very pale and worn,was lying upon a sofa near the open window, through which came the rich scent of thegarden and the balmy summer air. A woman was sitting beside him, and rose as weentered.
　　'Shall I leave, Percy?' she asked.
　　He clutched her hand to detain her. 'How are you, Watson?' said he, cordially. 'Ishould never have known you under that moustache, and I dare say you would not beprepared to swear to me. This, I presume, is your celebrated friend, Mr. SherlockHolmes?'
　　I introduced him in a few words, and we both sat down. The stout young man hadleft us, but his sister still remained, with her hand in that of the invalid. She was astriking-looking woman, a little short and thick for symmetry, but with a beautifulolive complexion, large, dark Italian eyes, and a wealth of deep black hair. Her richtints made the white face of her companion the more worn and haggard by thecontrast.
　　'I won't waste your time,' said he, raising himself upon the sofa. 'I'll plunge intothe 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 allmy prospects in life.
　　'I was, as Watson may have told you, in the Foreign Office, and through theinfluence of my uncle, Lord Holdhurst, I rose rapidly to a responsible position. Whenmy uncle became Foreign Minister in this Administration he gave me severalmissions of trust, and as I always brought them to a successful conclusion, he came atlast to have the utmost confidence in my ability and tact.
　　'Nearly ten weeks ago- to be more accurate, on the 23rd of May –he called me intohis private room and, after complimenting me upon the good work which I had done,informed me that he had a new commission of trust for me to execute.
　　' "This," said he, taking a grey roll of paper from his bureau, "is the original of thatsecret treaty between England and Italy, of which, I regret to say, some rumours havealready got into the public Press. It is of enormous importance that nothing furthershould leak out. The French or Russian Embassies would pay an immense sum learnthe contents of these papers. They should not leave my bureau were it not that it isabsolutely 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 mayremain behind when the others go, so that you may copy it at your leisure, withoutfear of being overlooked. When you have finished, re-lock both the original and thedraft in the desk, and hand them over to personally to-morrow morning."
　　'I took the papers and—'