Chapter III.

I slept at Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon our toast and coffee in the morning when the King of Bohemia rushed into the room.

“You have really got it!” he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by either shoulder and looking eagerly into his face.

“Not yet.”

“But you have hopes?”

“I have hopes.”

“Then, come. I am all impatience to be gone.”

“We must have a cab.”

“No, my brougham is waiting.”

“Then that will simplify matters.” We descended and started off once more for Briony Lodge.

“Irene Adler is married,” remarked Holmes.

“Married! When?”

“Yesterday.”

“But to whom?”

“To an English lawyer named Norton.”

“But she could not love him.”

“I am in hopes that she does.”

“And why in hopes?”

“Because it would spare your Majesty all fear of future annoyance. If the lady loves her husband, she does not love your Majesty. If she does not love your Majesty, there is no reason why she should interfere with your Majesty's plan.”

“It is true. And yet—Well! I wish she had been of my own station! What a queen she would have made!” He relapsed into a moody silence, which was not broken until we drew up in Serpentine Avenue.

The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an elderly woman stood upon the steps. She watched us with a sardonic eye as we stepped from the brougham.

“Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I believe?” said she.

“I am Mr. Holmes,” answered my companion, looking at her with a questioning and rather startled gaze.

“Indeed! My mistress told me that you were likely to call. She left this morning with her husband by the 5.15 train from Charing Cross for the Continent.”

“What!” Sherlock Holmes staggered back, white with chagrin and surprise. “Do you mean that she has left England?”

“Never 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 remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes,

“Very truly yours,

“Irene Norton, née Adler.”

“What a woman—oh, what a woman!” cried the King of Bohemia, when we had all three read this epistle. “Did I not tell you how quick and resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable 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 on a very different level to your Majesty,” said Holmes coldly. “I am sorry that I have not been able to bring your Majesty's business to a more successful conclusion.”

“On the contrary, my dear sir,” cried the King; “nothing could be more successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The photograph is 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 I can reward you. This ring—” He slipped an emerald snake ring from his finger and held it out upon the palm of his hand.

“Your Majesty has something which I should value even more highly,” 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 the matter. I have the honour to wish you a very good-morning.” He bowed, and, turning away without observing the hand which the King had stretched out to him, he set off in my company for his chambers.

And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom of Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a woman's wit. He used to make merry over the cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it of late. And when he speaks of Irene Adler, or when he refers to her photograph, it is always under the honourable title of the woman.

第三章

那天晚上，我在贝克街过夜。在我们早晨起来正吃烤面包、喝咖啡的时候，波希米亚国王猛地冲了进来。

“你真的拿到那张照片了吗？"他两手抓住歇洛克-福尔摩斯的双肩热切地看着他的脸高声喊道。

“还没有。”

“可是有希望吗？”

“有希望。”

“那么来吧。我恨不得赶快去。”

“我们必须雇辆出租马车。”

“不必了，我的四轮马车在外面等着呢。”

“这样就更省事了。"我们走下台阶，再次动身到布里翁尼府第去。

“艾琳-艾德勒已经结婚了，"福尔摩斯说道。

“结婚了！什么时候？”

“昨天。”

“跟谁结婚？”

“跟一个叫作诺顿的英国律师。”

“但是她不可能一爱一他。”

“我倒希望她一爱一他。”

“你为什么这样呢？”

“因为这样就免得陛下害怕将来发生麻烦了。如果这位女士一爱一她的丈夫，她就不一爱一陛下。如果她不一爱一陛下，她就没有理由会干预陛下的计划了。”

“这倒是真的。可是……啊，如果她和我的身份一样就好了，她会是一位多么了不起的王后呀！"说完他又重新陷于忧郁的沉默中，一直到我们在塞彭泰恩大街停下来时都是如此。

布里翁尼府第的大门敞开着。一个上年纪的妇人站在台阶上。她用一种蔑视的眼光瞧着我们从四轮马车里下来。

“我想是歇洛克-福尔摩斯先生吧？"她说道。

“我是福尔摩斯，"我的伙伴诧异地、多少有些惊愕地注视着她答道。

“真是！我的女主人告诉我你多半会来的。今天早晨她跟她的先生一起走了，他们乘五点十五分的火车从蔡林克罗斯到欧洲大一陆去了。”

“什么！"歇洛克-福尔摩斯向后打了个趔趄，懊恼和惊异得脸色发白。

“你的意思是说她已经离开英国了吗？”

“再也不回来了。”

“还有那张照片呢？"国王嗄声嗄平地问道，"一切都完了！”

“我们要看一下。"福尔摩斯推开仆人，奔进了客厅，国王和我紧跟在后面。家具四面八方乱七八糟地散摆着，架子拆了下来，一抽一屉拉开来了，就好象这位女士在她出奔以前匆匆忙忙地翻箱倒柜搜查过一番似的。福尔摩斯冲到铃的拉索的地方，拉开一扇小拉门，伸进手去，掏出一张照片和一封信。照片是艾琳-艾德勒本人穿着夜礼服照的。信封上写着：“歇洛克-福尔摩斯先生，留一交一本人亲收。"我的朋友把信拆开，我们三个人围着一起读这封信。写信日期是今天凌晨。信中这样写道：

亲一爱一的歇洛克-福尔摩斯先生：

你的确干得非常漂亮。你完全把我给骗过去了。直到发出火警以前，我一点也不疑心。但是随后当我发觉我已经是如何泄露了自己的秘密时，我开始思索了。几个月以前，人家就警告我要防备你了。有人说要是国王雇一位侦探的话，那一定是你。他们已经告诉我你的地址。可是尽避所有这些，你还是使我泄露了你所想要知道的秘密。甚至在我开始疑心以后，我还觉得很难相信那么一位上了年纪、和蔼可亲的牧师会怀有恶意。但是，你知道，我自己是个训练有素的女演员。男一性一服装对我并不生疏。我自己就常常女扮男装，并趁机利用它所带来的自一由。我派约翰——马车夫——监视你，然后跑上楼，穿上我的散步便服，我下楼来的时候，你正好离开。

随后，我在后面跟着你走到你家门口，这样，我肯定我真的是你这位著名的歇洛克-福尔摩斯先生感兴趣的对象了。于是，我相当冒失地祝你晚安，接着动身到坦普尔去看我的丈夫。

我们俩都认为被这么一位可怕的对手盯着，三十六计走为上策；因此在你明天来时将发现这个窝是空的。至于那张照片，你的委托人可以放心好了。我一爱一一位比他强的人，而这个人也一爱一我。国王可以做他愿意做的事，而不必顾虑他所错待过的人会对他有什么妨碍。我保留那张照片，只是为了保护自己。这是保藏一件将能永远保护我不受他将来可能采取的任何手段损害的武器。我现在留给他一张他可能愿意收下的照片。谨此向您——亲一爱一的歇洛克-福尔摩斯先生致意。

艾琳-艾德勒-诺顿敬上

“多么了不起的女人啊——噢，一个多么了不起的女人啊！"当我们三个人一起念这封信时，波希米亚国王这么喊道。

“我不是告诉过你们，她是多么机敏和果断吗？假如她能当王后，那她不就是一个令人钦佩的王后吗？多么可惜她和我的地位不一样！"①

“从我在这位女士身上所看到的来说，她的水平的确和陛下的水平很不一样，"福尔摩斯冷淡地说道，“我很遗憾没能使陛下的事情得到一个更为成功的结局。”

“亲一爱一的先生，这可恰恰相反，"国王说道，“再没有任何结局比这个更为成功的了。我知道她是说话算数的。那张照片现在是和它已经被烧掉那样使我感到放心了。”

①此处"地位"和下面的"水平"，原文都用ｌｅｖｅｌ一词，词意双关——译者注

“我很高兴听陛下这么说。”

“我真对你感恩不尽。请告诉我怎样酬答你才好。这只戒指……"他从他的手指上脱一下一只蛇形的绿宝石戒指，托在手掌上递给他。

“陛下有一件我认为比这戒指甚至更有价值的东西。"福尔摩斯说道。

“你只要说出来是什么东西就成。”

“这张照片！”

国王惊异地睁大眼睛注视着他。

“艾琳的相片！"他喊道，“你要是想要的话，当然可以。”

“谢谢陛下。那么这件事就算办妥了吧。我谨祝您早安。”他鞠了个躬便转身而走，对国王伸向他的手连看都不看一眼。他和我一起返回他的住处去。

这就是波希米亚王国怎样受到一桩大丑闻的威胁，而福尔摩斯的杰出计划又是怎样为一个女人的聪明才智所挫败的经过。他过去对女人的聪明机智常常加以嘲笑，近来我很少听到他这样的嘲笑了。当他说到艾琳-艾德勒或提到她那张照片时，他总是用那位女人这一尊敬的称呼。