r to return."

"And the papers?" asked the King, hoarsely. "All is lost."

"We shall see." He pushed past the servant and rushed into the
drawing-room, followed by the King and myself. The furniture was
scattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves and open
drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked them before her flight.
Holmes rushed at the bell-pull, tore back a small sliding shutter, and,
plunging in his hand, pulled out a photograph and a letter. The
photograph was of Irene Adler herself in evening dress, the letter was
superscribed to "Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To be left till called for." My
friend tore it open, and we all three read it together. It was dated at
midnight of the preceding night, and ran in this way:

"My dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes,--You really did it very well.
You took me in completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I
had not a suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed
myself, I began to think. I had been warned against you months
ago. I had been told that, if the King employed an agent, it
would certainly be you. And your address had been given me.
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 such a dear, kind old clergyman. But, you know, I have
been trained as an actress myself. Male costume is nothing new
to me. I often take advantage of the freedom which it gives. I
sent John, the coachman, to watch you, ran up-stairs, got into
my walking clothes, as I call them, and came down just as you
departed.

"Well, I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I
was really an object of interest to the celebrated Mr.
Sherlock Holmes. Then I, rather imprudently, wished you
good-night, and started for the Temple to see my husband.

"We both thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by
so formidable an antagonist; so you will find the nest empty
when you call to-morrow. As to the photograph, your client may
rest in peace. I love and am loved by a better man than he.
The King may do what he will without hindrance from one whom
he has cruelly wronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself,
and to preserve a weapon which will always secure me from any
steps which he might take in the future. I leave a photograph
which he might care to possess; and I