ast 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 the 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 upstairs, got into my walking
clothes, as I call them, and came down just as you departed.

"Well, I followed you to the 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 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 remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes, very truly
yours,

"IRENE NORTON, _nee_ ADLER."

"What a woman--oh, what a woman!" cried the