THE ADVENTURE OF THE SECOND STAIN.TXT

                                      1904


                                SHERLOCK HOLMES


                       THE ADVENTURE OF THE SECOND STAIN


                           by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle


  THE ADVENTURE OF THE SECOND STAIN





  I had intended "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange" to be the last of


those exploits of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, which I should


ever communicate to the public. This resolution of mine was not due to


any lack of material, since I have notes of many hundreds of cases


to which I have never alluded, nor was it caused by any waning


interest on the part of my readers in the singular personality and


unique methods of this remarkable man. The real reason lay in the


reluctance which Mr. Holmes has shown to the continued publication


of his experiences. So long as he was in actual professional


practice the records of his successes were of some practical value


to him, but since he has definitely retired from London and betaken


himself to study and bee-farming on the Sussex Downs, notoriety has


become hateful to him, and he has peremptorily requested that his


wishes in this matter should be strictly observed. It was only upon my


representing to him that I had given a promise that "The Adventure


of the Second Stain" should be published when the times were ripe, and


pointing out to him that it is only appropriate that this long


series of episodes should culminate in the most important


international case which he has ever been called upon to handle,


that I at last succeeded in obtaining his consent that a carefully


guarded account of the incident should at last be laid before the


public. If in telling the story I seem to be somewhat vague in certain


details, the public will readily understand that there is an excellent


reason for my reticence.


  It was, then, in a year, and even in a decade, that shall be


nameless, that upon one Tuesday morning in autumn we found two


visitors of European fame within the walls of our humble room in Baker


Street. The one, austere, high-nosed, eagle-eyed, and dominant, was


none other than the illustrious Lord Bellinger, twice Premier of


Britain. The other, dark, clear-cut, and elegant, hardly yet of middle


age, and endowed with every beauty of body and of mind, was the


Right Honourable Trelawney Hope, Secretary for European Affairs, and


the most rising statesman in the country. They sat side by side upon


our paper-littered settee, and it was easy to see from their worn


and anxious faces that it was business of the most pressing importance


which had brought them. The Premier's thin, blue-veined hands were


clasped tightly over the ivory head of his umbrella, and his gaunt,


ascetic face looked gloomily from Holmes to me. The European Secretary


pulled nervously at his moustache and fidgeted with the seals of his


watch-chain.


  "When I discovered my loss, Mr. Holmes, which was at eight o'clock


this morning, I at once informed the Prime Minister. It was at his


suggestion that we have both come to you."


  "Have you informed the police?"


  "No, sir," said the Prime Minister, with the quick, decisive


manner for which he was famous. "We have not done so, nor is it


possible that we should do so. To inform the police must, in the


long run, mean to inform the public. This is what we particularly


desire to avoid."


  "And why, sir?"


 "Because the document in question is of such immense importance


that its publication might very easily- I might almost say probably-


lead to European complications of the utmost moment. It is not too


much to say that peace or war may hang upon the issue. Unless its


recovery can be attended with the utmost secrecy, then it may as


well not be recovered at all, for all that is aimed at by those who


have taken it is that its contents should be generally known."


  "I understand. Now, Mr. Trelawney Hope, I should be much obliged


if you would tell me exactly the circumstances under which this


document disappeared."


 "That can be done in a very few words, Mr. Holmes. The letter- for it


was a letter from a foreign potentate- was received six days ago. It


was of such importance that I have never left it in my safe, but


have taken it across each evening to my house in Whitehall Terrace,


and kept it in my bedroom in a locked despatch-box. It was there


last night. Of that I am certain. I actually opened the box while I


was dressing for dinner and saw the document inside. This morning it


was gone. The despatch-box had stood beside the glass upon my


dressing-table all night. I am a light sleeper, and so is my wife.


We are both prepared to swear that no one could have entered the


room during the night. And yet I repeat that the paper is gone."


  "What time did you dine?"


  "Half-past seven."


  "How long was it before you went to bed?"


  "My wife had gone to the theatre. I waited up for her. It was


half-past eleven before we went to our room."


  "Then for four hours the despatch-box had lain unguarded?"


  "No one is ever permitted to enter that room save the house-maid


in the morning, and my valet, or my wife's maid, during the rest of


the day. They are both trusty servants who have been with us for


some time. Besides, neither of them could possibly have known that


there was anything more valuable than the ordinary departmental papers


in my despatch-box."


  "Who did know of the existence of that letter?"


  "No one in the house."


  "Surely your wife knew?'


  "No, sir. I had said nothing to my wife until I missed the paper


this morning."


  The Premier nodded approvingly.


  "I have long known, sir, how high is your sense of public duty,"


said he. "I am convinced that in the case of a secret of this


importance it would rise superior to the most intimate domestic ties.


  The European Secretary bowed.


  "You do me no more than justice, sir. Until this morning I have


never breathed one word to my wife upon this matter."


  "Could she have guessed?"


  "No, Mr. Holmes, she could not have guessed- nor could anyone have


guessed."


  "Have you lost any documents before?"


  "No, sir."


  "Who is there in England who did know of the existence of this


letter?"


  "Each member of the Cabinet was informed of it yesterday, but the


pledge of secrecy which attends every Cabinet meeting was increased by


the solemn warning which was given by the Prime Minister. Good


heavens, to think that within a few hours I should myself have lost


it!" His handsome face was distorted with a spasm of despair, and


his hands tore at his hair. For a moment we caught a glimpse of the


natural man, impulsive, ardent, keenly sensitive. The next the


aristocratic mask was replaced, and the gentle voice had returned.


"Besides the members of the Cabinet there are two, or possibly


three, departmental officials who know of the letter. No one else in


England, Mr. Holmes, I assure you."


  "But abroad?"


  "I believe that no one abroad has seen it save the man who wrote it.


I am well convinced that his Ministers- that the usual official


channels have not been employed."


  Holmes considered for some little time.


  "Now, sir, I must ask you more particularly what this document is,


and why its disappearance should have such momentous consequences?"


  The two statesmen exchanged a quick glance and the Premier's


shaggy eyebrows gathered in a frown.


  "Mr. Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of pale blue colour.


There is a seal of red wax stamped with a crouching lion. It is


addressed in large, bold handwriting to-"


  "I fear, sir," said Holmes, "that, interesting and indeed


essential as these details are, my inquiries must go more to the


root of things. What was the letter?"


  "That is a State secret of the utmost importance, and I fear that


I cannot tell you, nor do I see that it is necessary. If by the aid of


the powers which you are said to possess you can find such an envelope


as I describe with its enclosure, you will have deserved well of


your country, and earned any reward which it lies in our power to


bestow."


  Sherlock Holmes rose with a smile.


  "You are two of the most busy men in the country," said he, "and


in my own small way I have also a good many calls upon me. I regret


exceedingly that I cannot help you in this matter, and any


continuation of this interview would be a waste of time."


  The Premier sprang to his feet with that quick, fierce gleam of


his deep-set eyes before which a Cabinet has cowered. "I am not


accustomed, sir," he began, but mastered his anger and resumed his


seat. For a minute or more we all sat in silence. Then the old


statesman shrugged his shoulders.


  "We must accept your terms, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right,


and it is unreasonable for us to expect you to act unless we give


you our entire confidence."


  "I agree with you," said the younger statesman.


  "Then I will tell you, relying entirely upon your honour and that of


your colleague, Dr. Watson. I may appeal to your patriotism also,


for I could not imagine a greater misfortune for the country than that


this affair should come out."


  "You may safely trust us."


  "The letter, then, is from a certain foreign potentate who bas


been ruffled by some recent Colonial developments of this country.


It has been written hurriedly and upon his own responsibility


entirely. Inquiries have shown that his Ministers know nothing of


the matter. At the same time it is couched in so unfortunate a manner,


and certain phrases in it are of so provocative a character, that


its publication would undoubtedly lead to a most dangerous state of...