His Majesty commends Trang's 'Temple Dog Angel' #AsiaNewsNetwork
His Majesty commends Trang’s ‘Temple Dog Angel’ #AsiaNewsNetwork
23 His Majesty commends Trang’s ‘Temple Dog Angel’ #AsiaNewsNetwork His Majesty commends Trang’s ‘Temple Dog Angel’ #AsiaNewsNetwork Life Published 23 February 2019 TRANG, THAILAND (The Nation/ANN) – His Majesty the King sent a letter praising a Trang woman, who is known among locals as “Temple Dog Angel” for cleaning stray dogs in the southern province’s temples for years.
The King graciously instructed Maj Gen Kalsawan Chantharasen, an officer attached to the King’s royal villa, to hand over his letter to Napassawan Chukaew, 39, a resident of Trang’s Yan Ta Khao district.
A ceremony was held at 10am on Friday at the Thun Koh Yuan School in Tambon Nong Bor for Napassawan to receive the letter in a photo frame in front of the King’s portrait.
In the letter, His Majesty commended the woman for her consistency in doing good by cleaning temple dogs without being disgusted by them.
The King said the actions showed that that Napassawan is a kind-hearted person and also commended her for regularly cleaning toilets in temples in the district.
Napassawan is married with two children. She is known among local people for always making merits at temples and often donating clothes to underprivileged people as well as donating blood every three months.
After the ceremony to receive the King’s letter of praise, Napassawan said she would continue her activities. She said she and her family were overjoyed to receive the letter of praise from the King.
She said she felt happy to help relieve the burden of monks’ by buying pet shampoo to shower dogs in temples in the district.
Her mother, Chaluay Chukaew, said the family and Trang people felt it was a great honour that the King sent praise to the local woman.
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Restaurant Review: Farzi Cafe, Haymarket, London, UK
Travel Articles Restaurant Review: Farzi Cafe, Haymarket, London, UK A new boy on the Indian cuisine block in the shape of the glitzy Farzi Cafe has turned up on London’s Haymarket last month. By Print
A new boy on the Indian cuisine block in the shape of the glitzy Farzi Cafe has turned up on London’s Haymarket last month dedicated to confusing your tastebuds. The chefs at Farzi serve not-quite-Indian cuisine and some dishes vaguely allude to the idea of Indian cuisine. Actually, the clue is in the name, “Farzi”, which means “fake” but here they prefer the word illusion. They have even created their own adjective saying that some dishes have been “farzified”. Farzi Restaurant experience
Some may already be familiar with Farzi. It is part of the Massive Restaurant group that has nine restaurants across India and Dubai. It was launched in 2012 by Zorawara Kalra whose aim is to “evolve” Indian fare.
You might say the restaurant has a touch of the renegade about it. For instance they serve what looks like the distinctly British fish and chips dish, but when you tuck in you are actually tasting Amritsari fish (Halibut), a traditional street food of Punjab, with chips and a pea mash with a kick. Farzi Cafe London Interior
The experience starts with a lovely welcome with a doorman opening the door as you approach followed by greetings from a team of smiling faces when you step in. The central space is taken up with a bar with an elevated shelf with their selection of whiskey bottles (around 60) that jostle for attention in the glimmering orange light.
Tables are spread around the expansive square, some with comfy corner coves and this spills into a lower floor where it is a little quieter but for me less atmospheric.
It’s pretty classy stuff and it’s easy to see how the £4 million investment has been spent. Food and drink
Part of the fun of dining at Farzi cafe is the expectation of feasting on “Farzified food”.
We shared a couple of starters: The Udupi Paneer popcorn, a dish from the Indian state Karnakata and in particular the Udupi province. It comes as a bowl of fried balls of cottage cheese spiced with karram podi seasoning which contains chilli powder. Udupi Paneer popcorn
My favourite Indian dish of crispy Pani poori shells came filled with quinoa and mash potato. They serve it with small side jugs of tamarind water, coriander water and buttermilk. The idea is to pour a cocktail of the three in each of the shells to flavour as you like. Dal Chawal Arancini, Achar Papad Chutney
We followed this with a a plate of Arancini, a traditional Sicilian dish of rice balls, but this was Dal Chawal Arancini which contains dal and coriander and is served with aachar and chutney and amusingly topped with mini rolled popadoms. The concoction makes for a surprising taste of flavours.
The main courses were chicken tikka massala and braised lamb chops and sharing bowl of dhal. The masala came hotter than I had expected yet I still scoffed the lot happily. The lamb had been slightly spiced and that flavour made its appearance as a background note to the maple syrup. No matter – it was a tasty dish.
Desserts are suitably sweet. Srikhand ‘air’ cheesecake with mango coulis was as light and as tangy as it sounds and the Laddoo – a chocolate coconut covered shell with coconut mousse and berries was delightful too. A plate of petit fours was served as well and though they looked sweet, some were tantalisingly savoury. A nice end to a surprising evening. Laddoo – chcolate shell, coconut mousse, berries Srikhand ‘air’ cheesecake, mango coulis petit fours that are not as sweet as they look. c. Sharron Livingston
Verdict: The restaurant offers a spacious and relaxing environment with calming light. Staff are attentive and give the time to explain what they are serving which helps to understand the flavours. The idea of “farzified” food is a great one but from time to time the combined flavours don’t entirely work. But, would I go again? Most definitely.
Price per head: £51 Address: 8 Haymarket, London, SW1Y 4BP More Articles
Boracay Rediscovered Part 2
Boracay allows you to do almost any adventure sport from rock climbing to wind surfing or the newer Kite surfing. I have to confess I was more into the sport of just laying on the beach…Thank you My Warmth.
My Angel, My Warmth, I adore you.
Written and photographed
By Jude Thaddeus L. Bautista
The accommodations are not the cheapest in DISCOVERY SHORES, but every penny is well worth it because of the free services that make your stay so much easier and enjoyable.
Here’s a summary of the list: The free van rides- can be essential if traveling with senior citizens and infants , Free Merienda- snacks and refreshments that can make your day ,3. Free Foot Spa,4. Free Fast Wi-Fi. For a more detailed description of these free services click on this link to part 1.
Experience the Heart of the Filipino Innumerable Cable TV Channels . I stopped counting after 200. You may argue that it comes with the room you’ve paid for. But in my experience with hotel and resort rooms I have never seen this many channels anywhere else and it is something to behold. The main reason I’m mentioning it here is foreign visitors may appreciate a channel in their spoken language, giving them a slice of home while keeping in touch with current events. The Paraw sailboat is a symbol of Boracay along with the golden sunset. Photo by Jude Bautista
For example there are 5 Chinese language channels: Lotus Macau, CCM HD, Phoenix Info, STAR Chinese Movie, Formosa Xing Kong, SUN TV, CCTV. 2 French Channels : TV MONDE Channel, FRANCE-24. European channels : BBC, TVEspaña, RUSSIA TODAY, RAI Italia, RTR Planeta, 3 Korean Channels : YTN WORLD, ARIRANG, KPOP Plus, Japanese channel : NHK TV, Indian Channels : SAHARA NAT, SAHARA MUM, Middle Eastern : GMAN TV, SAUDI R, 1TVRUS, YEMEN TV.
The list above is by no means complete but gives a general idea of how many international channels are available in your room at DISCOVERY SHORES. DISCOVERY SHORES BORACAY scores on impeccable service, amenities and facilities on our trip January 9-11, 2019. Photo by Jude Bautista
NBA Premium TV
For a self confessed TV addict like me, I was overwhelmed with choices of HBO, FOX, Discovery (network), History, Crime + Investigation AND their variants: HBO HITS, Fox Life etc. BUT I was personally elated to find out they had both NBA Premium TV HD and BTV. So I was able to watch 4 NBA games in one day, if not portions of each. Apart from the games are the News/Magazine shows like THE STARTERS. Lovers embrace while watching the Boracay sunset. Photo by Jude Bautista
I caught an interview/dialogue between two of my childhood heroes Magic Johnson and Isiah Thomas. They talked about growing up in Michigan all the way to Lakers vs Pistons Finals in 1989 & 90. They had a tearful hug in the end because the two were very close childhood friends and had grown apart in recent years. They were never able to talk about it or flesh it out until that interview/docu.
By no means is it a necessity, but for any fan wanting to catch up with the NBA, it’s priceless. With the number of channels available it’s likely you’ll find one…or a dozen that’s right for you. INDIGO and SANDS Restaurant have delectable delights along with a fantastic view of Boracay Beach. DISCOVERY SHORES BORACAY scores on impeccable service, amenities and facilities on our trip January 9-11, 2019. Photo by Jude Bautista
Another big difference from my previous trip is the growing number of Chinese and Korean restaurants that have sprung up around town. Some famous establishments have translations of their menu items to Japanese, Korean and Chinese script and also Russian. This is an indication of the growing tourism market or visitors from those countries. Favorite ANDOK’S dishes (left) Liempo – charbroiled pork loin and (right) Roast Whole Chicken. Photo by Jude Bautista
My brother George however has a very Filipino craving. ANDOK’S is a popular charbroiled chicken brand in Manila. They have countless stalls for take out. The main difference here in Boracay is that they actually have fast food style outlets like Jollibee or McDonald’s. Jollibee also recently opened a large branch here greeting customers with an inflatable mascot 50 feet high. But the novelty for us is ANDOK’S Restaurant complete with air-conditioning. They have 3 separate branches. We were advised by Discovery staff to go to the branch away from the beach, as it is less full. Enjoying ANDOK’S Resto from left: Hazel Bautista, Gina Ronquillo, George Bautista, Eric Ronquillo and Tita Linda.
Needless to say we enjoyed ANDOK’S charbroiled chicken, their Liempo (charbroiled pork loin). Their prices were the same as in Manila. I was also very proud to see a Chinese family enjoying sisig for the first time. Sisig has come into prominence in New York recently with the late Anthony Bourdain and BIZARRE FOODS’ Andrew Zimmern as praising the uniquely Filipino dish. With the nose to tail trend in the U.S. sisig has become a hit there. Pork ears, face and brains are finely chopped and served on a sizzling plate (sunny side egg on top is optional). It tastes better than it sounds and goes great with beer. Crystal clear waters and white sand beaches have returned to Boracay. Photo by Jude Bautista
There are however, other must try signature dishes in ‘Bora’. FRIDAY’S is a restaurant bar just a few meters away (almost right beside) DISCOVERY SHORES. We enjoyed their cheese pizza and Lobster Thermidore, which they were famous for. Both are reasonably priced. The pizza is thin and extra crispy. The lobster was fresh, sweet, the biggest we’ve seen and perfectly cooked. FRIDAY’S Lobster Thermidor
It wasn’t planned but we ordered more Filipino fare in this trip. In another establishment we tried their Sisig , Sizzling Bulalo (Beef Bone Marrow- also a Bourdain favorite) and Pansit Palabok (glass noodles with chicharon -pork rind and eggs). Left: Pansit Palabok – glass noodles with chicharon-pork rind and eggs, Right: Four Cheese Pizza is surprisingly good. (10)
If I were a foreign visitor, I’d take advantage of trying Filipino cuisine, obviously because that’s what we know and are best at. In any case there are many other cuisines you can choose from around the island including Italian restaurant FORNO OSTERIA in DISCOVERY SHORES. Left: World famous Sisig, Right: Sizzling Bulalo- Beef Bone Marrow. Both dishes are highly recommended by Bourdain and Zimmern. Crystal clear waters and white sand beaches have returned to Boracay. Photo by Jude Bautista
As exercise I hiked to the less occupied portions of the beach beyond the rocky outcrop. This is where a restaurant / bar was demolished by the government during the 8 month closure. No doubt a lot of jobs, businesses were closed from it. Although, shooting the waters and beach after the fact it is hard to argue with the results. Crystal clear waters and white sand beaches have returned to Boracay. Photo by Jude Bautista
What this tells me is that taking care of Boracay isn’t just the responsibility of the government or of business owners here but of every single person who visits as well. IF we want to keep Boracay pristine, we all have to make better choices. We can avoid using plastic, make sure to not litter on the beachand better yet pick up trash that we see. We should all be conscious of not polluting the air, water, beaches, be conscious even of noise pollution. Otherwise we’ll lose a beautiful place like this. Controlling visitor numbers have had a positive effect on the environment in Boracay. Photo by Jude Bautista
The level of service we experienced in DISCOVERY SHORES was not just the best in the island, but the best anywhere in my opinion. Everyone was always willing to go the extra mile. DISCOVERY SHORES BORACAY scores on impeccable service, amenities and facilities on our trip January 9-11, 2019. Photo by Jude Bautista
For example my dad Joe (86) has a habit of waking up at 3am. One morning he decided to walk out by himself, while we were sound asleep. When he got back my mom opened the door and she thought my dad in her words ’picked up a girl’. Before she could raise hell she found out it was a Discovery staffer assisting him safely to his room, as it was still dark outside. DISCOVERY SHORES BORACAY scores on impeccable service, amenities and facilities on our trip January 9-11, 2019. Photo by Jude Bautista
Over breakfast we were laughing about it. I was getting a juice for my mom. Dad went to the buffet by himself. His hands aren’t as strong as they used to be with the plates and getting food at the same time. Next thing we know a staffer was right behind him getting food and assisting him back to the table. We weren’t even asking for it but they were always ready to anticipate your needs.
It makes you feel special. I’m proud as a Filipino,they are able to represent that hospitality our country is known for. It’s not just the spectacular beach but the people and culture that attract the whole world to Boracay. Joe and Linda Bautista; DISCOVERY SHORES BORACAY scores on impeccable service, amenities and facilities on our trip January 9-11, 2019. Photo by Jude Bautista The Paraw sailboat is a symbol of Boracay along with the golden sunset. Photo by Jude Bautista (18) WordPress: http://judebsports.wordpress.com/ , http://judebfood.wordpress.com/ , http://judebphoto.wordpress.com/ , http://judebgallery.wordpress.com/ , https://judebautista.wordpress.com/ from left: George Bautista and college bud Eric Ronquillo. DISCOVERY SHORES BORACAY scores on impeccable service, amenities and facilities on our trip January 9-11, 2019. Photo by Jude Bautista We stumbled on a romantic dinner set up in INDIGO. Initially we thought it was an engagement party but found out it was just for one lucky couple. DISCOVERY SHORES BORACAY scores on impeccable service, amenities and facilities on our trip January 9-11, 2019. Photo by Jude Bautista (20) tumblr: Joe Bautista and great grandson Theo; DISCOVERY SHORES BORACAY scores on impeccable service, amenities and facilities on our trip January 9-11, 2019. Photo by Jude Bautista Crystal clear waters and white sand beaches have returned to Boracay. Photo by Jude Bautista Our group in INDIGO Restaurant. DISCOVERY SHORES BORACAY scores on impeccable service, amenities and facilities on our trip January 9-11, 2019. Photo by Jude Bautista (23) flickr:
‘Queen of Spices’ gives name to Harare’s newest restaurant
‘Queen of Spices’ gives name to Harare’s newest restaurant 16 Feb, 2019 – 00:02 Lamb korma and chicken tikka masala served alongside rice and sambals The Herald
Epicurean Cuisine from the Indian subcontinent always makes me think of exotic places, delightful spicy flavours and the many scents of curry. So it’s not surprising for a restaurant providing that very cuisine to choose for its name the ingredient of food and beverages that is known as the Queen of Spices.
Cardamom restaurant opened its doors only on February 1, taking over the site in Harare’s Sam Levy’s Village occupied for the past couple of years by Delhi Palace. Cardamom is universally known for its gentle but effective flavouring; what is probably not so well known is that it is the third most expensive spice in the world, after vanilla and saffron, and that it is made up of seeds from different plants in the ginger family. By the way, black pepper is known as the King of Spices.
It hails naturally from all over the Indian subcontinent as well as Indonesia, but in the past century or so has also been grown in large quantities in Guatemala in Latin America and, closer to home, in Tanzania. Interesting, too, is that it is a popular ingredient in Scandinavian baking, for reasons I could not find out.
The restaurant is owned and operated by Ian de Grandhomme, whom I know best as the man behind the food at The Jam Tree in Mount Pleasant (which he continues to be), and Bhavesh Patel, until recently the man in charge of conferencing and banqueting at Cresta Lodge in Eastern Harare.
At lunch I had a chance to catch up with Bhavesh, who is always on site and whom I know to be an efficient hospitality professional; he trained at Meikles Hotel and later worked at Wild Geese Lodge and then Cresta Lodge.
He is excited at prospects for his new dining venue and, like so many positive people in our negative environment, chooses to focus on moving ahead despite obstacles rather than let these obstacles weigh him down.
The site of the restaurant is the eastern-most corner of Sam Levy’s Village, adjacent to the Food Lover’s Market, and which has been home to previous restaurants like 360 Degrees and Delhi Palace.
Delhi Palace closed a few months ago after Peter Marchussen called it quits; previously this name was held by Bob and Nicky Savania’s popular restaurant in Greystone Park, although it later moved to the front of Sam Levy’s Village before heading to this site.
The venue has a fresh new look of greens of varying shades, and it has a welcoming and cheerful ambience, looking out to the busy car park area as well as to a colourful garden dominated by a waterfall and pond.
I was pleased to see some of the staff previously at Delhi Palace, including Stanley Mashanyare, who looked after my guest and me so well when we dined on a hot Thursday lunchtime.
The menu is smaller than one usually gets from Indian restaurants, with several unique dishes weaved into a selection of dishes that are known and enjoyed by many diners.
My guest selected a vegetable samoosa for her starter, while I chose the prawn masala; both were well-portioned and very tasty.
For mains I had the chicken tikka masala, while my guest chose lamb korma; we both asked for mild, which I always find preferable to the zing of medium and hot (or very hot!).
These dishes were really good, accompanied by lovely basmati rice and a naan bread for my guest and a roti for me. We also had desserts: I had the cardamom (what else?) and lime zest ice cream, while my guest went for a similarly-flavoured milkshake, both of which were great contrasts to the flavours of the main meals but which had their own distinctive set of spiced flavours.
My chicken tikka masala and the prawn masala both had that superb infusion of the smokiness and woodiness imparted by the tandoori oven in the kitchen. I did not have wine with my meal but would love to have tried a strong cabernet sauvignon with it.
Prices are very reasonable, especially after recent increases all round caused by turbulent economic times. The menu features starters from $8 to $15, lamb dishes from $33 to $49, chicken dishes from $17 to $24, prawn meals at $33 and $35, vegetarian dishes from $12 to $18, children’s meals at $10 or $12 and desserts at $6.
Chef Sydney from Delhi Palace is still in place and I like his take on so much of the cuisine we want and expect in a restaurant featuring a mix of styles from across the vast Indian subcontinent.
A Sunday lunch special is in place, run as a buffet at $35 per person. Draught beer is served at the bar, which is always a great thing for an Indian restaurant, in my view. A plan is in place to offer some simple treats served quickly at lunchtimes.
I was delighted with the service, food and ambience of Cardamom, which is situated in the eastern section of Sam Levy’s Village in Borrowdale, Harare, and is open daily from 11.30am to kitchen close at 9.30pm.
Booking is a good idea for weekends and some weekday nights. Call 0718 791635 and 0778 482612 or e-mail [email protected]
Feedback on your own dining experiences is welcome, as well as ideas, comments and suggestions. E-mail [email protected] Share This:
Re: Malaysian Food in Chicago… Seriously!!!
daggerboard wrote: ↑ Thu Feb 21, 2019 9:11 am I know there are entire cottage industries in larger cities where specific ethnic cooks travel from house to house to prepare a multi-meal bonanza while the customers are out. Best I know there is a real movement around this with various Indian cuisines … no idea if the same is available for Malay cooking in Chicago. I would see if there is a Facebook group dedicated to Malaysians in Chicago or the Midwest, and ask around there. Will check facebook, thank you! Thu Feb 21, 2019 9:17 am Or you could just Google Malaysian restaurant Chicago…
Gina Mims liked Kelli’s blog post ADYA Chef Shachi Mehra and Puesto Chef Katy Smith Present 2nd Annual Collaborative Dinner
ADYA Chef/Partner Shachi Mehra and Puesto Chef Katy Smith present “From Mumbai to Mexico City,” their 2nd annual collaborative dinner, happening Thursday, March 28th at 6 p.m. Dinner will consist of 5 courses that showcase each chef’s individual style. Puesto Pastry Chef Erik Aronow will be also involved, creating a one-of-a-kind dessert inspired by both India and Mexico.
“My goal with the Guest Chef Collaborations is to show our guests how Indian food can come together with cuisines from other parts of the world to create unique flavors and combinations,” explains Chef Shachi, who has plans for additional collaborations this year, featuring locals chefs. “The synergy between Indian and Mexican cuisines is undeniable, and I’m excited to once again partner with Puesto for this pop-up dinner!”
The menu for “From Mumbai to Mexico City” will be released in the following weeks and guests can follow ADYA on Instagram at @adyaoc to stay up to date. Seats are $75 per guest (includes tax & gratuity). Guests will be able to purchase select wines by the glass during the dinner or bring their own ($10 corkage fee). The dinner will be held at ADYA Anaheim and seating is extremely limited. Tickets must be purchased in advance at https://frommumbaitomexico.eventbrite.com . Views: 32
Perfection is the best word to sum up our stay at Cloudwalks. The view from our sunrise room was incredibly beautiful. The wrap around balcony gave us views over the distant city nestled amongst the trees from one side. From the other, we looked out over the hills and small farm village that lie next to the property. Each morning we received a gentle wake up call from the sun slowly rising into view in the window opposite the bed. The bed itself was big, soft and luxurious. It couldn’t have been more comfortable. A few hours after sunrise and it becomes clear why this place is so fittingly named ‘cloudwalks’. We had the feeling that we were floating along with them, on top of the world. There is a huge roof from which to view the surrounding vistas. It was a great spot for some morning yoga in the sun/ clouds. Raj and his family were extremely welcoming and friendly and did everything they could to make our stay as comfortable as it could possibly be. Simply amazing hosts. The place has been beautifully decorated with their large collection of paintings and ornaments. All the food was incredible, truly delicious. We ate breakfast and dinner at the home stay on every day of our 4 day stay, each lovingly prepared at our request by Raj or one of the family. We opted for Indian food and were given dishes of both southern and northern cuisine. We started and ended each day of our stay with a flavoursome feast and returned to our room feeling like royalty. The location is great if you want peace and quiet. It’s not central but it’s close enough to the city to walk. We walked into Kodaikkanal in around half an hour. We also explored the lovely surrounding areas of farmland and woodland. I can’t recommend a stay at Cloudwalks highly enough. If I were to ever revisit this area of India again, I would come back to Kodaikanal just to stay at Cloudwalks! Now stop reading this review and book yourself a room.
Stayed in January 2019
Smorgasbord of international cuisine brings ‘sense of vibrancy’ to Sydney
Immigrants to Cape Breton are expanding palates and the business community. From Indian to Egyptian to Chinese cuisine, there’s no lack of restaurant choices in Sydney these days.
Ibrahim Geisa opened Khufu’s Restaurant and Bakery almost two months ago with his wife, Rehab.
He first came to Sydney with their daughter last year when she started at Cape Breton University.
Today, he and Rehab serve up traditional Egyptian food at their location on Charlotte Street.
“It’s a good country,” said Geisa. “And I decide to make my business here to stay.”
There’s a lot of options and I think it’s fantastic for Cape Breton. Tom Kern, customer
Tom Kern recently popped in to grab some beef stew.
“I enjoy the food,” said Kern. “It’s something different and I’m always looking for something different.”
Kern said the many new restaurants create a nice vibe in the area.
“I’m originally from Whitney Pier. That’s one of the most multicultural places in the world because of when we had the steel plant,” said Kern.
“So now we got all different types of ethnic food. There’s a lot of options and I think it’s fantastic for Cape Breton.”
Norma Jean MacPhee/CBC More Several blocks away in the Ashby area, Ajay Kumar and Lovepreet Singh are in the midst of renovating a building into an Indian restaurant.
The two men are from northern India and are studying at Cape Breton University.
“We want to create jobs,” said Kumar. “So we realized to do an Indian authentic restaurant with Indian authentic food so everyone can taste it.”
They hope to be open by April.
There’s also a new sushi spot in Sydney and several new Chinese food and grill options.
Kathleen Yurchesyn, CEO of the Cape Breton Regional Chamber of Commerce, said the growing food scene is “really encouraging.”
“It brings a sense of vibrancy right now but it definitely also shows the hope and excitement of what’s to come,” she said.
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February 23, 2019 CHATTI PATHIRI
On the morning of my departure, the signs did not look promising. As I flicked through the delicate black paper of a 1970s photo album from my dad’s overland trip to India, I came across pictures of an emaciated 18-year-old’s frame, tales of suspected malaria and dodgy roadside eats. When you tell someone you are travelling to this exotic subcontinent, a common warning is drummed into you, “Watch out for Delhi belly!” But I’m not so sure anymore. I’ve been here a month and I’m pretty confident that I will be returning home at least 5 kilos heavier because ladies and gentlemen, I have a new found love: Malabar cuisine.
This story begins in a kitchen so hot and humid that you can’t quite tell whether your chin is damp from sweat or saliva. In that kind of muggy people oven, all you want to do is strip your clothes off but that would be a huge mistake – The mosquitos that bite every inch of your feet and toes until they become a scabby mess would inevitably spread to the rest of your bare skin and we are here to eat, not be eaten.
So why would we happily risk denghi fever and torturous itching just for a mouthful of this beautiful food?
If you can’t find fresh coconut, soak the same amount of dessicated coconut overnight.
The Malabar coast hugs the west side of India from Mumbai to the tip of Kerala. Sea-farers have been visiting these shores from afar for thousands of years and it is reflected in the food. Think raisins, an abundance of coconut, chilli so hot it makes your eyes water, sweet meets sour, Arabic meets Indian.
This particular dish is so unusual, my host Sumi assures me with the exciting phrase, “You will find this recipe nowhere else.” It is a pie and a pudding all at once, the Indian answer to lasagne or tortilla, layered and eggy but steamed. Strips of chicken rest between crepe-like pasta sheets alternately spread with thick, sweet coconut paste. Every single tastebud is satisfied from this balanced yet crazy melange. I can’t decide if it’s a spicy curry or a dessert but I’m so wrapped up in elated love for it that I simply don’t care.
Warm, comforting rice pudding. Another example of sweet yet spiced.
I must admit, I have occasionally missed the comforts of European cuisine but when it comes to food, monogamy has never been a strong point… and what’s a holiday without a little romantic fling? THE PASTA/CREPE SHEETS
The Naval Treaty
The Final Problem » The Naval Treaty
This short story, The Naval Treaty (AKA The Adventure of the Naval Treaty) , 1893
The July which immediately succeeded my marriage was made memorable by three cases of interest, in which I had the privilege of being associated with Sherlock Holmes and of studying his methods. I find them recorded in my notes under the headings of “The Adventure of the Second Stain,”“The Adventure of the Naval Treaty,” and “The Adventure of the Tired Captain.” The first of these, however, deals with interest of such importance and implicates so many of the first families in the kingdom that for many years it will be impossible to make it public. No case, however, in which Holmes was engaged has ever illustrated the value of his analytical methods so clearly or has impressed those who were associated with him so deeply. I still retain an almost verbatim report of the interview in which he demonstrated the true facts of the case to Monsieur Dubugue of the Paris police, and Fritz von Waldbaum, the well-known specialist of Dantzig, both of whom had wasted their energies upon what proved to be side-issues. The new century will have come, however, before the story can be safely told. Meanwhile I pass on to the second on my list, which promised also at one time to be of national importance, and was marked by several incidents which give it a quite unique character.
During my school-days I had been intimately associated with a lad named Percy Phelps, who was of much the same age as myself, though he was two classes ahead of me. He was a very brilliant boy, and carried away every prize which the school had to offer, finished his exploits by winning a scholarship which sent him on to continue his triumphant career at Cambridge. He was, I remember, extremely well connected, and even when we were all little boys together we knew that his mother’s brother was Lord Holdhurst, the great conservative politician. This gaudy relationship did him little good at school. On the contrary, it seemed rather a piquant thing to us to chevy him about the playground and hit him over the shins with a wicket. But it was another thing when he came out into the world. I heard vaguely that his abilities and the influences which he commanded had won him a good position at the Foreign Office, and then he passed completely out of my mind until the following letter recalled his existence:
Briarbrae, Woking. My dear Watson,—I have no doubt that you can remember “Tadpole” Phelps, who was in the fifth form when you were in the third. It is possible even that you may have heard that through my uncle’s influence I obtained a good appointment at the Foreign Office, and that I was in a situation of trust and honor until a horrible misfortune came suddenly to blast my career.
There is no use writing of the details of that dreadful event. In the event of your acceding to my request it is probably that I shall have to narrate them to you. I have only just recovered from nine weeks of brain-fever, and am still exceedingly weak. Do you think that you could bring your friend Mr. Holmes down to see me? I should like to have his opinion of the case, though the authorities assure me that nothing more can be done. Do try to bring him down, and as soon as possible. Every minute seems an hour while I live in this state of horrible suspense. Assure him that if I have not asked his advice sooner it was not because I did not appreciate his talents, but because I have been off my head ever since the blow fell. Now I am clear again, though I dare not think of it too much for fear of a relapse. I am still so weak that I have to write, as you see, by dictating. Do try to bring him.
Your old school-fellow,
There was something that touched me as I read this letter, something pitiable in the reiterated appeals to bring Holmes. So moved was I that even had it been a difficult matter I should have tried it, but of course I knew well that Holmes loved his art, so that he was ever as ready to bring his aid as his client could be to receive it. My wife agreed with me that not a moment should be lost in laying the matter before him, and so within an hour of breakfast-time I found myself back once more in the old rooms in Baker Street.
Holmes was seated at his side-table clad in his dressing-gown, and working hard over a chemical investigation. A large curved retort was boiling furiously in the bluish flame of a Bunsen burner, and the distilled drops were condensing into a two-litre measure. My friend hardly glanced up as I entered, and I, seeing that his investigation must be of importance, seated myself in an arm-chair and waited. He dipped into this bottle or that, drawing out a few drops of each with his glass pipette, and finally brought a test-tube containing a solution over to the table. In his right hand he held a slip of litmus-paper.
“You come at a crisis, Watson,” said he. “If this paper remains blue, all is well. If it turns red, it means a man’s life.” He dipped it into the test-tube and it flushed at once into a dull, dirty crimson. “Hum! I thought as much!” he cried. “I will be at your service in an instant, Watson. You will find tobacco in the Persian slipper.” He turned to his desk and scribbled off several telegrams, which were handed over to the page-boy. Then he threw himself down into the chair opposite, and drew up his knees until 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.
“And yet the writing is of interest.”
“But 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 of an investigation it is something to know that your client is in close contact with some one who, for good or evil, has an exceptional nature. My interest is already awakened in the case. If you are ready we will start at once for Woking, and see this diplomatist 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 under an 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 a few minutes’ walk of the station. On sending in our cards we were shown into an elegantly appointed drawing-room, where we were joined in a few minutes by a rather stout man who received us with much hospitality. His age may have been nearer forty than thirty, but his cheeks were so ruddy and his eyes so merry that he still conveyed the impression of a plump and mischievous boy.
“I am so glad that you have come,” said he, shaking our hands with effusion. “Percy has been inquiring for you all morning. Ah, poor old chap, he clings to any straw! His father and his mother asked me to see you, for the mere mention of the subject is very painful to them.”
“We have had no details yet,” observed Holmes. “I perceive that you are not yourself 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 I thought you had done something clever. Joseph Harrison is my name, and as Percy is to marry my sister Annie I shall at least be a relation by marriage. You will find my sister in his room, for she has nursed him hand-and-foot this two months back. Perhaps we’d better go in at once, for I know how impatient he is.”
The chamber in which we were shown was on the same floor as the drawing-room. It was furnished partly as a sitting and partly as a bedroom, with flowers 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 the garden and the balmy summer air. A woman was sitting beside him, who rose as we entered.
“Shall I leave, Percy?” she asked.
He clutched her hand to detain her. “How are you, Watson?” said he, cordially. “I should never have known you under that moustache, and I dare say you would not be prepared to swear to me. This I presume is your celebrated friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”
I introduced him in a few words, and we both sat down. The stout young man had left us, but his sister still remained with her hand in that of the invalid. She was a striking-looking woman, a little short and thick for symmetry, but with a beautiful olive complexion, large, dark, Italian eyes, and a wealth of deep black hair. Her rich tints made the white face of her companion the more worn and haggard by the contrast.
“I won’t waste your time,” said he, raising himself upon the sofa. “I’ll plunge into the 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 all my prospects in life.
“I was, as Watson may have told you, in the Foreign Office, and through the influences of my uncle, Lord Holdhurst, I rose rapidly to a responsible position. When my uncle became foreign minister in this administration he gave me several missions of trust, and as I always brought them to a successful conclusion, he came at last to have the utmost confidence in my ability and tact.
“Nearly ten weeks ago—to be more accurate, on the 23d of May—he called me into his private room, and, after complimenting me on the good work which I had done, he informed me that he had a new commission of trust for me to execute.
“‘This,’ said he, taking a gray roll of paper from his bureau, ‘is the original of that secret treaty between England and Italy of which, I regret to say, some rumors have already got into the public press. It is of enormous importance that nothing further should leak out. The French or the Russian embassy would pay an immense sum to learn the contents of these papers. They should not leave my bureau were it not that it is absolutely necessary to have them copied. You have a desk in your office?”
“‘Then take the treaty and lock it up there. I shall give directions that you may remain behind when the others go, so that you may copy it at your leisure without fear of being overlooked. When you have finished, relock both the original and the draft in the desk, and hand them over to me personally to-morrow morning.’
“I took the papers and—”
“Excuse me an instant,” said Holmes. “Were you alone during this conversation?”
“My uncle’s voice is always remarkably low. I hardly spoke at all.”
“Thank you,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes; “pray go on.”
“I did exactly what he indicated, and waited until the other clerks had departed. One of them in my room, Charles Gorot, had some arrears of work to make up, so I left him there and went out to dine. When I returned he was gone. I was anxious to hurry my work, for I knew that Joseph—the Mr. Harrison whom you saw just now—was in town, and that he would travel down to Woking by the eleven-o’clock train, and I wanted if possible to catch it.
“When I came to examine the treaty I saw at once that it was of such importance that my uncle had been guilty of no exaggeration in what he had said. Without going into details, I may say that it defined the position of Great Britain towards the Triple Alliance, and fore-shadowed the policy which this country would pursue in the event of the French fleet gaining a complete ascendancy over that of Italy in the Mediterranean. The questions treated in it were purely naval. At the end were the signatures of the high dignitaries who had signed it. I glanced my eyes over it, and then settled down to my task of copying.
“It was a long document, written in the French language, and containing twenty-six separate articles. I copied as quickly as I could, but at nine o’clock I had only done nine articles, and it seemed hopeless for me to attempt to catch my train. I was feeling drowsy and stupid, partly from my dinner and also from the effects of a long day’s work. A cup of coffee would clear my brain. A commissionnaire remains all night in a little lodge at the foot of the stairs, and is in the habit of making coffee at his spirit-lamp for any of the officials who may be working over time. I rang the bell, therefore, to summon him.
“To my surprise, it was a woman who answered the summons, a large, coarse-faced, elderly woman, in an apron. She explained that she was the commissionnaire’s wife, who did the charing, and I gave her the order for the coffee.
“I wrote two more articles and then, feeling more drowsy than ever, I rose and walked up and down the room to stretch my legs. My coffee had not yet come, and I wondered what was the cause of the delay could be. Opening the door, I started down the corridor to find out. There was a straight passage, dimly lighted, which led from the room in which I had been working, and was the only exit from it. It ended in a curving staircase, with the commissionnaire’s lodge in the passage at the bottom. Half way down this staircase is a small landing, with another passage running into it at right angles. This second one leads by means of a second small stair to a side door, used by servants, and also as a short cut by clerks when coming from Charles Street. Here is a rough chart of the place.”
“Thank you. I think that I quite follow you,” said Sherlock Holmes.
“It is of the utmost importance that you should notice this point. I went down the stairs and into the hall, where I found the commissionnaire fast asleep in his box, with the kettle boiling furiously upon the spirit-lamp. I took off the kettle and blew out the lamp, for the water was spurting over the floor. Then I put out my hand and was about to shake the man, who was still sleeping soundly, when a bell over his head rang loudly, and he woke with a start.
“‘Mr. Phelps, sir!’ said he, looking at me in bewilderment.
“‘I came down to see if my coffee was ready.’
“‘I was boiling the kettle when I fell asleep, sir.’ He looked at me and then up at the still quivering bell with an ever-growing astonishment upon his face.
“‘If you was here, sir, then who rang the bell?’ he asked.
“‘The bell!’ I cried. ‘What bell is it?’
“‘It’s the bell of the room you were working in.’
“A cold hand seemed to close round my heart. Some one, then, was in that room where my precious treaty lay upon the table. I ran frantically up the stair and along the passage. There was no one in the corridors, Mr. Holmes. There was no one in the room. All was exactly as I left it, save only that the papers which had been committed to my care had been taken from the desk on which they lay. The copy was there, and the original was gone.”
Holmes sat up in his chair and rubbed his hands. I could see that the problem was entirely to his heart. “Pray, what did you do then?” he murmured.
“I recognized in an instant that the thief must have come up the stairs from the side door. Of course I must have met him if he had come the other way.”
“You were satisfied that he could not have been concealed in the room all the time, or in the corridor which you have just described as dimly lighted?”
“It is absolutely impossible. A rat could not conceal himself either in the room or the corridor. There is no cover at all.”
“Thank you. Pray proceed.”
“The commissionnaire, seeing by my pale face that something was to be feared, had followed me upstairs. Now we both rushed along the corridor and down the steep steps which led to Charles Street. The door at the bottom was closed, but unlocked. We flung it open and rushed out. I can distinctly remember that as we did so there came three chimes from a neighboring clock. It was quarter to ten.”
“That is of enormous importance,” said Holmes, making a note upon his shirt-cuff.
“The night was very dark, and a thin, warm rain was falling. There was no one in Charles Street, but a great traffic was going on, as usual, in Whitehall, at the extremity. We rushed along the pavement, bare-headed as we were, and at the far corner we found a policeman standing.
“‘A robbery has been committed,’ I gasped. ‘A document of immense value has been stolen from the Foreign Office. Has any one passed this way?’
“‘I have been standing here for a quarter of an hour, sir,’ said he; ‘only one person has passed during that time—a woman, tall and elderly, with a Paisley shawl.’
“‘Ah, that is only my wife,’ cried the commissionnaire; ‘has no one else passed?’
“‘Then it must be the other way that the thief took,’ cried the fellow, tugging at my sleeve.
“‘But I was not satisfied, and the attempts which he made to draw me away increased my suspicions.
“‘Which way did the woman go?’ I cried.
“‘I don’t know, sir. I noticed her pass, but I had no special reason for watching her. She seemed to be in a hurry.’
“‘How long ago was it?’
“‘Oh, not very many minutes.’
“‘Within the last five?’
“‘Well, it could not be more than five.’
“‘You’re only wasting your time, sir, and every minute now is of importance,’ cried the commissionnaire; ‘take my word for it that my old woman has nothing to do with it, and come down to the other end of the street. Well, if you won’t, I will.’ And with that he rushed off in the other direction.
“But I was after him in an instant and caught him by the sleeve.
“‘Where do you live?’ said I.
“’16 Ivy Lane, Brixton,’ he answered. ‘But don’t let yourself be drawn away upon a false scent, Mr. Phelps. Come to the other end of the street and let us see if we can hear of anything.’
“Nothing was to be lost by following his advice. With the policeman we both hurried down, but only to find the street full of traffic, many people coming and going, but all only too eager to get to a place of safety upon so wet a night. There was no lounger who could tell us who had passed.
“Then we returned to the office, and searched the stairs and the passage without result. The corridor which led to the room was laid down with a kind of creamy linoleum which shows an impression very easily. We examined it very carefully, but found no outline of any footmark.”
“Had it been raining all evening?”
“Since about seven.”
“How is it, then, that the woman who came into the room about nine left no traces with her muddy boots?”
“I am glad you raised the point. It occurred to me at the time. The charwomen are in the habit of taking off their boots at the commissionnaire’s office, and putting on list slippers.”
“That is very clear. There were no marks, then, though the night was a wet one? The chain of events is certainly one of extraordinary interest. What did you do next?
“We examined the room also. There is no possibility of a secret door, and the windows are quite thirty feet from the ground. Both of them were fastened on the inside. The carpet prevents any possibility of a trap-door, and the ceiling is of the ordinary whitewashed kind. I will pledge my life that whoever stole my papers could only have come through the door.”
“How about the fireplace?”
“They use none. There is a stove. The bell-rope hangs from the wire just to the right of my desk. Whoever rang it must have come right up to the desk to do it. But why should any criminal wish to ring the bell? It is a most insoluble mystery.”
“Certainly the incident was unusual. What were your next steps? You examined the room, I presume, to see if the intruder had left any traces—any cigar-end or dropped glove or hairpin or other trifle?”
“There was nothing of the sort.”
“Well, we never thought of that.”
“Ah, a scent of tobacco would have been worth a great deal to us in such an investigation.”
“I never smoke myself, so I think I should have observed it if there had been any smell of tobacco. There was absolutely no clue of any kind. The only tangible fact was that the commissionnaire’s wife—Mrs. Tangey was the name—had hurried out of the place. He could give no explanation save that it was about the time when the woman always went home. The policeman and I agreed that our best plan would be to seize the woman before she could get rid of the papers, presuming that she had them.
“The alarm had reached Scotland Yard by this time, and Mr. Forbes, the detective, came round at once and took up the case with a great deal of energy. We hired a hansom, and in half an hour we were at the address which had been given to us. A young woman opened the door, who proved to be Mrs. Tangey’s eldest daughter. Her mother had not come back yet, and we were shown into the front room to wait.
“About ten minutes later a knock came at the door, and here we made the one serious mistake for which I blame myself. Instead of opening the door ourselves, we allowed the girl to do so. We heard her say, ‘Mother, there are two men in the house waiting to see you,’ and an instant afterwards we heard the patter of feet rushing down the passage. Forbes flung open the door, and we both ran into the back room or kitchen, but the woman had got there before us. She stared at us with defiant eyes, and then, suddenly recognizing me, an expression of absolute astonishment came over her face.
“‘Why, if it isn’t Mr. Phelps, of the office!’ she cried.
“‘Come, come, who did you think we were when you ran away from us?’ asked my companion.
“‘I thought you were the brokers,’ said she, ‘we have had some trouble with a tradesman.’
“‘That’s not quite good enough,’ answered Forbes. ‘We have reason to believe that you have taken a paper of importance from the Foreign Office, and that you ran in here to dispose of it. You must come back with us to Scotland Yard to be searched.’
“It was in vain that she protested and resisted. A four-wheeler was brought, and we all three drove back in it. We had first made an examination of the kitchen, and especially of the kitchen fire, to see whether she might have made away with the papers during the instant that she was alone. There were no signs, however, of any ashes or scraps. When we reached Scotland Yard she was handed over at once to the female searcher. I waited in an agony of suspense until she came back with her report. There were no signs of the papers.
“Then for the first time the horror of my situation came in its full force. Hitherto I had been acting, and action had numbed thought. I had been so confident of regaining the treaty at once that I had not dared to think of what would be the consequence if I failed to do so. But now there was nothing more to be done, and I had leisure to realize my position. It was horrible. Watson there would tell you that I was a nervous, sensitive boy at school. It is my nature. I thought of my uncle and of his colleagues in the Cabinet, of the shame which I had brought upon him, upon myself, upon every one connected with me. What though I was the victim of an extraordinary accident? No allowance is made for accidents where diplomatic interests are at stake. I was ruined, shamefully, hopelessly ruined. I don’t know what I did. I fancy I must have made a scene. I have a dim recollection of a group of officials who crowded round me, endeavoring to soothe me. One of them drove down with me to Waterloo, and saw me into the Woking train. I believe that he would have come all the way had it not been that Dr. Ferrier, who lives near me, was going down by that very train. The doctor most kindly took charge of me, and it was well he did so, for I had a fit in the station, and before we reached home I was practically a raving maniac.
“You can imagine the state of things here when they were roused from their beds by the doctor’s ringing and found me in this condition. Poor Annie here and my mother were broken-hearted. Dr. Ferrier had just heard enough from the detective at the station to be able to give an idea of what had happened, and his story did not mend matters. It was evident to all that I was in for a long illness, so Joseph was bundled out of this cheery bedroom, and it was turned into a sick-room for me. Here I have lain, Mr. Holmes, for over nine weeks, unconscious, and raving with brain-fever. If it had not been for Miss Harrison here and for the doctor’s care I should not be speaking to you now. She has nursed me by day and a hired nurse has looked after me by night, for in my mad fits I was capable of anything. Slowly my reason has cleared, but it is only during the last three days that my memory has quite returned. Sometimes I wish that it never had. The first thing that I did was to wire to Mr. Forbes, who had the case in hand. He came out, and assures me that, though everything has been done, no trace of a clue has been discovered. The commissionnaire and his wife have been examined in every way without any light being thrown upon the matter. The suspicions of the police then rested upon young Gorot, who, as you may remember, stayed over time in the office that night. His remaining behind and his French name were really the only two points which could suggest suspicion; but, as a matter of fact, I did not begin work until he had gone, and his people are of Huguenot extraction, but as English in sympathy and tradition as you and I are. Nothing was found to implicate him in any way, and there the matter dropped. I turn to you, Mr. Holmes, as absolutely my last hope. If you fail me, then my honor as well as my position are forever forfeited.”
The invalid sank back upon his cushions, tired out by this long recital, while his nurse poured him out a glass of some stimulating medicine. Holmes sat silently, with his head thrown back and his eyes closed, in an attitude which might seem listless to a stranger, but which I knew betokened the most intense self-absorption.
“You statement has been so explicit,” said he at last, “that you have really left me very few questions to ask. There is one of the very utmost importance, however. Did you tell any one that you had this special task to perform?”
“Not Miss Harrison here, for example?”
“No. I had not been back to Woking between getting the order and executing the commission.”
“And none of your people had by chance been to see you?”
“Did any of them know their way about in the office?”
“Oh, yes, all of them had been shown over it.”
“Still, of course, if you said nothing to any one about the treaty these inquiries are irrelevant.”
“I said nothing.”
“Do you know anything of the commissionnaire?”
“Nothing except that he is an old soldier.”
“Oh, I have heard—Coldstream Guards.”
“Thank you. I have no doubt I can get details from Forbes. The authorities are excellent at amassing facts, though they do not always use them to advantage. What a lovely thing a rose is!”
He walked past the couch to the open window, and held up the drooping stalk of a moss-rose, looking down at the dainty blend of crimson and green. It was a new phase of his character to me, for I had never before seen him show any keen interest in natural objects.
“There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as in religion,” said he, leaning with his back against the shutters. “It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.”
Percy Phelps and his nurse looked at Holmes during this demonstration with surprise and a good deal of disappointment written upon their faces. He had fallen into a reverie, with the moss-rose between his fingers. It had lasted some minutes before the young lady broke in upon it.
“Do you see any prospect of solving this mystery, Mr. Holmes?” she asked, with a touch of asperity in her voice.
“Oh, the mystery!” he answered, coming back with a start to the realities of life. “Well, it would be absurd to deny that the case is a very abstruse and complicated one, but I can promise you that I will look into the matter and let you know any points which may strike me.”
“Do you see any clue?”
“You have furnished me with seven, but, of course, I must test them before I can pronounce upon their value.”
“You suspect some one?”
“Of coming to conclusions too rapidly.”
“Then go to London and test your conclusions.”
“Your advice is very excellent, Miss Harrison,” said Holmes, rising. “I think, Watson, we cannot do better. Do not allow yourself to indulge in false hopes, Mr. Phelps. The affair is a very tangled one.”
“I shall be in a fever until I see you again,” cried the diplomatist.
“Well, I’ll come out by the same train to-morrow, though it’s more than likely that my report will be a negative one.”
“God bless you for promising to come,” cried our client. “It gives me fresh life to know that something is being done. By the way, I have had a letter from Lord Holdhurst.”
“Ha! What did he say?”
“He was cold, but not harsh. I dare say my severe illness prevented him from being that. He repeated that the matter was of the utmost importance, and added that no steps would be taken about my future—by which he means, of course, my dismissal—until my health was restored and I had an opportunity of repairing my misfortune.”
“Well, that was reasonable and considerate,” said Holmes. “Come, Watson, for we have a good day’s work before us in town.”
Mr. Joseph Harrison drove us down to the station, and we were soon whirling up in a Portsmouth train. Holmes was sunk in profound thought, and hardly opened his mouth until we had passed Clapham Junction.
“It’s a very cheery thing to come into London by any of these lines which run high, and allow you to look down upon the houses like this.”
I thought he was joking, for the view was sordid enough, but he soon explained himself.
“Look at those big, isolated clumps of building rising up above the slates, like brick islands in a lead-colored sea.”
“Light-houses, my boy! Beacons of the future! Capsules with hundreds of bright little seeds in each, out of which will spring the wise, better England of the future. I suppose that man Phelps does not drink?”
“I should not think so.”
“Nor should I, but we are bound to take every possibility into account. The poor devil has certainly got himself into very deep water, and it’s a question whether we shall ever be able to get him ashore. What did you think of Miss Harrison?”
“A girl of strong character.”
“Yes, but she is a good sort, or I am mistaken. She and her brother are the only children of an iron-master somewhere up Northumberland way. He got engaged to her when traveling last winter, and she came down to be introduced to his people, with her brother as escort. Then came the smash, and she stayed on to nurse her lover, while brother Joseph, finding himself pretty snug, stayed on too. I’ve been making a few independent inquiries, you see. But to-day must be a day of inquiries.”
“My practice—” I began.
“Oh, if you find your own cases more interesting than mine—” said Holmes, with some asperity.
“I was going to say that my practice could get along very well for a day or two, since it is the slackest time in the year.”
“Excellent,” said he, recovering his good-humor. “Then we’ll look into this matter together. I think that we should begin by seeing Forbes. He can probably tell us all the details we want until we know from what side the case is to be approached.”
“You said you had a clue?”
“Well, we have several, but we can only test their value by further inquiry. The most difficult crime to track is the one which is purposeless. Now this is not purposeless. Who is it who profits by it? There is the French ambassador, there is the Russian, there is whoever might sell it to either of these, and there is Lord Holdhurst.”
“Well, it is just conceivable that a statesman might find himself in a position where he was not sorry to have such a document accidentally destroyed.”
“Not a statesman with the honorable record of Lord Holdhurst?”
“It is a possibility and we cannot afford to disregard it. We shall see the noble lord to-day and find out if he can tell us anything. Meanwhile I have already set inquiries on foot.”
“Yes, I sent wires from Woking station to every evening paper in London. This advertisement will appear in each of them.”
He handed over a sheet torn from a note-book. On it was scribbled in pencil: “L10 reward. The number of the cab which dropped a fare at or about the door of the Foreign Office in Charles Street at quarter to ten in the evening of May 23d. Apply 221 B, Baker Street.”
“You are confident that the thief came in a cab?”
“If not, there is no harm done. But if Mr. Phelps is correct in stating that there is no hiding-place either in the room or the corridors, then the person must have come from outside. If he came from outside on so wet a night, and yet left no trace of damp upon the linoleum, which was examined within a few minutes of his passing, then it is exceeding probable that he came in a cab. Yes, I think that we may safely deduce a cab.”
“It sounds plausible.”
“That is one of the clues of which I spoke. It may lead us to something. And then, of course, there is the bell—which is the most distinctive feature of the case. Why should the bell ring? Was it the thief who did it out of bravado? Or was it some one who was with the thief who did it in order to prevent the crime? Or was it an accident? Or was it—?” He sank back into the state of intense and silent thought from which he had emerged; but it seemed to me, accustomed as I was to his every mood, that some new possibility had dawned suddenly upon him.
It was twenty past three when we reached our terminus, and after a hasty luncheon at the buffet we pushed on at once to Scotland Yard. Holmes had already wired to Forbes, and we found him waiting to receive us—a small, foxy man with a sharp but by no means amiable expression. He was decidedly frigid in his manner to us, especially when he heard the errand upon which we had come.
“I’ve heard of your methods before now, Mr. Holmes,” said he, tartly. “You are ready enough to use all the information that the police can lay at your disposal, and then you try to finish the case yourself and bring discredit on them.”
“On the contrary,” said Holmes, “out of my last fifty-three cases my name has only appeared in four, and the police have had all the credit in forty-nine. I don’t blame you for not knowing this, for you are young and inexperienced, but if you wish to get on in your new duties you will work with me and not against me.”
“I’d be very glad of a hint or two,” said the detective, changing his manner. “I’ve certainly had no credit from the case so far.”
“What steps have you taken?”
“Tangey, the commissionnaire, has been shadowed. He left the Guards with a good character and we can find nothing against him. His wife is a bad lot, though. I fancy she knows more about this than appears.”
“Have you shadowed her?”
“We have set one of our women on to her. Mrs. Tangey drinks, and our woman has been with her twice when she was well on, but she could get nothing out of her.”
“I understand that they have had brokers in the house?”
“Yes, but they were paid off.”
“Where did the money come from?”
“That was all right. His pension was due. They have not shown any sign of being in funds.”
“What explanation did she give of having answered the bell when Mr. Phelps rang for the coffee?”
“She said that he husband was very tired and she wished to relieve him.”
“Well, certainly that would agree with his being found a little later asleep in his chair. There is nothing against them then but the woman’s character. Did you ask her why she hurried away that night? Her haste attracted the attention of the police constable.”
“She was later than usual and wanted to get home.”
“Did you point out to her that you and Mr. Phelps, who started at least twenty minutes after her, got home before her?”
“She explains that by the difference between a ‘bus and a hansom.”
“Did she make it clear why, on reaching her house, she ran into the back kitchen?”
“Because she had the money there with which to pay off the brokers.”
“She has at least an answer for everything. Did you ask her whether in leaving she met any one or saw any one loitering about Charles Street?”
“She saw no one but the constable.”
“Well, you seem to have cross-examined her pretty thoroughly. What else have you done?”
“The clerk Gorot has been shadowed all these nine weeks, but without result. We can show nothing against him.”
“Well, we have nothing else to go upon—no evidence of any kind.”
“Have you formed a theory about how that bell rang?”
“Well, I must confess that it beats me. It was a cool hand, whoever it was, to go and give the alarm like that.”
“Yes, it was queer thing to do. Many thanks to you for what you have told me. If I can put the man into your hands you shall hear from me. Come along, Watson.”
“Where are we going to now?” I asked, as we left the office.
“We are now going to interview Lord Holdhurst, the cabinet minister and future premier of England.”
We were fortunate in finding that Lord Holdhurst was still in his chambers in Downing Street, and on Holmes sending in his card we were instantly shown up. The statesman received us with that old-fashioned courtesy for which he is remarkable, and seated us on the two luxuriant lounges on either side of the fireplace. Standing on the rug between us, with his slight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that not too common type, a nobleman who is in truth noble.
“Your name is very familiar to me, Mr. Holmes,” said he, smiling. “And, of course, I cannot pretend to be ignorant of the object of your visit. There has only been one occurrence in these offices which could call for your attention. In whose interest are you acting, may I ask?”
“In that of Mr. Percy Phelps,” answered Holmes.
“Ah, my unfortunate nephew! You can understand that our kinship makes it the more impossible for me to screen him in any way. I fear that the incident must have a very prejudicial effect upon his career.”
“But if the document is found?”
“Ah, that, of course, would be different.”
“I had one or two questions which I wished to ask you, Lord Holdhurst.”
“I shall be happy to give you any information in my power.”
“Was it in this room that you gave your instructions as to the copying of the document?”
“Then you could hardly have been overheard?”
“It is out of the question.”
“Did you ever mention to any one that it was your intention to give any one the treaty to be copied?”
“You are certain of that?”
“Well, since you never said so, and Mr. Phelps never said so, and nobody else knew anything of the matter, then the thief’s presence in the room was purely accidental. He saw his chance and he took it.”
The statesman smiled. “You take me out of my province there,” said he.
Holmes considered for a moment. “There is another very important point which I wish to discuss with you,” said he. “You feared, as I understand, that very grave results might follow from the details of this treaty becoming known.”
A shadow passed over the expressive face of the statesman. “Very grave results indeed.”
“Any have they occurred?”
“If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or Russian Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?”
“I should,” said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry face.
“Since nearly ten weeks have elapsed, then, and nothing has been heard, it is not unfair to suppose that for some reason the treaty has not reached them.”
Lord Holdhurst shrugged his shoulders.
“We can hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the thief took the treaty in order to frame it and hang it up.”
“Perhaps he is waiting for a better price.”
“If he waits a little longer he will get no price at all. The treaty will cease to be secret in a few months.”
“That is most important,” said Holmes. “Of course, it is a possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden illness—”
“An attack of brain-fever, for example?” asked the statesman, flashing a swift glance at him.
“I did not say so,” said Holmes, imperturbably. “And now, Lord Holdhurst, we have already taken up too much of your valuable time, and we shall wish you good-day.”
“Every success to your investigation, be the criminal who it may,” answered the nobleman, as he bowed us out the door.
“He’s a fine fellow,” said Holmes, as we came out into Whitehall. “But he has a struggle to keep up his position. He is far from rich and has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his boots had been resoled. Now, Watson, I won’t detain you from your legitimate work any longer. I shall do nothing more to-day, unless I have an answer to my cab advertisement. But I should be extremely obliged to you if you would come down with me to Woking to-morrow, by the same train which we took yesterday.”
I met him accordingly next morning and we traveled down to Woking together. He had had no answer to his advertisement, he said, and no fresh light had been thrown upon the case. He had, when he so willed it, the utter immobility of countenance of a red Indian, and I could not gather from his appearance whether he was satisfied or not with the position of the case. His conversation, I remember, was about the Bertillon system of measurements, and he expressed his enthusiastic admiration of the French savant.
We found our client still under the charge of his devoted nurse, but looking considerably better than before. He rose from the sofa and greeted us without difficulty when we entered.
“Any news?” he asked, eagerly.
“My report, as I expected, is a negative one,” said Holmes. “I have seen Forbes, and I have seen your uncle, and I have set one or two trains of inquiry upon foot which may lead to something.”
“You have not lost heart, then?”
“By no means.”
“God bless you for saying that!” cried Miss Harrison. “If we keep our courage and our patience the truth must come out.”
“We have more to tell you than you have for us,” said Phelps, reseating himself upon the couch.
“I hoped you might have something.”
“Yes, we have had an adventure during the night, and one which might have proved to be a serious one.” His expression grew very grave as he spoke, and a look of something akin to fear sprang up in his eyes. “Do you know,” said he, “that I begin to believe that I am the unconscious centre of some monstrous conspiracy, and that my life is aimed at as well as my honor?”
“Ah!” cried Holmes.
“It sounds incredible, for I have not, as far as I know, an enemy in the world. Yet from last night’s experience I can come to no other conclusion.”
“Pray let me hear it.”
“You must know that last night was the very first night that I have ever slept without a nurse in the room. I was so much better that I thought I could dispense with one. I had a night-light burning, however. Well, about two in the morning I had sunk into a light sleep when I was suddenly aroused by a slight noise. It was like the sound which a mouse makes when it is gnawing a plank, and I lay listening to it for some time under the impression that it must come from that cause. Then it grew louder, and suddenly there came from the window a sharp metallic snick. I sat up in amazement. There could be no doubt what the sounds were now. The first ones had been caused by some one forcing an instrument through the slit between the sashes, and the second by the catch being pressed back.
“There was a pause then for about ten minutes, as if the person were waiting to see whether the noise had awakened me. Then I heard a gentle creaking as the window was very slowly opened. I could stand it no longer, for my nerves are not what they used to be. I sprang out of bed and flung open the shutters. A man was crouching at the window. I could see little of him, for he was gone like a flash. He was wrapped in some sort of cloak which came across the lower part of his face. One thing only I am sure of, and that is that he had some weapon in his hand. It looked to me like a long knife. I distinctly saw the gleam of it as he turned to run.”
“This is most interesting,” said Holmes. “Pray what did you do then?”
“I should have followed him through the open window if I had been stronger. As it was, I rang the bell and roused the house. It took me some little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen and the servants all sleep upstairs. I shouted, however, and that brought Joseph down, and he roused the others. Joseph and the groom found marks on the bed outside the window, but the weather has been so dry lately that they found it hopeless to follow the trail across the grass. There’s a place, however, on the wooden fence which skirts the road which shows signs, they tell me, as if some one had got over, and had snapped the top of the rail in doing so. I have said nothing to the local police yet, for I thought I had best have your opinion first.”
This tale of our client’s appeared to have an extraordinary effect upon Sherlock Holmes. He rose from his chair and paced about the room in uncontrollable excitement.
“Misfortunes never come single,” said Phelps, smiling, though it was evident that his adventure had somewhat shaken him.
“You have certainly had your share,” said Holmes. “Do you think you could walk round the house with me?”
“Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph will come, too.”
“And I also,” said Miss Harrison.
“I am afraid not,” said Holmes, shaking his head. “I think I must ask you to remain sitting exactly where you are.”
The young lady resumed her seat with an air of displeasure. Her brother, however, had joined us and we set off all four together. We passed round the lawn to the outside of the young diplomatist’s window. There were, as he had said, marks upon the bed, but they were hopelessly blurred and vague. Holmes stopped over them for an instant, and then rose shrugging his shoulders.
“I don’t think any one could make much of this,” said he. “Let us go round the house and see why this particular room was chosen by the burglar. I should have thought those larger windows of the drawing-room and dining-room would have had more attractions for him.”
“They are more visible from the road,” suggested Mr. Joseph Harrison.
“Ah, yes, of course. There is a door here which he might have attempted. What is it for?”
“It is the side entrance for trades-people. Of course it is locked at night.”
“Have you ever had an alarm like this before?”
“Never,” said our client.
“Do you keep plate in the house, or anything to attract burglars?”
“Nothing of value.”
Holmes strolled round the house with his hands in his pockets and a negligent air which was unusual with him.
“By the way,” said he to Joseph Harrison, “you found some place, I understand, where the fellow scaled the fence. Let us have a look at that!”
The plump young man led us to a spot where the top of one of the wooden rails had been cracked. A small fragment of the wood was hanging down. Holmes pulled it off and examined it critically.
“Do you think that was done last night? It looks rather old, does it not?”
“Well, possibly so.”
“There are no marks of any one jumping down upon the other side. No, I fancy we shall get no help here. Let us go back to the bedroom and talk the matter over.”
Percy Phelps was walking very slowly, leaning upon the arm of his future brother-in-law. Holmes walked swiftly across the lawn, and we were at the open window of the bedroom long before the others came up.
“Miss Harrison,” said Holmes, speaking with the utmost intensity of manner, “you must stay where you are all day. Let nothing prevent you from staying where you are all day. It is of the utmost importance.”
“Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes,” said the girl in astonishment.
“When you go to bed lock the door of this room on the outside and keep the key. Promise to do this.”
“He will come to London with us.”
“And am I to remain here?”
“It is for his sake. You can serve him. Quick! Promise!”
She gave a quick nod of assent just as the other two came up.
“Why do you sit moping there, Annie?” cried her brother. “Come out into the sunshine!”
“No, thank you, Joseph. I have a slight headache and this room is deliciously cool and soothing.”
“What do you propose now, Mr. Holmes?” asked our client.
“Well, in investigating this minor affair we must not lose sight of our main inquiry. It would be a very great help to me if you would come up to London with us.”
“Well, as soon as you conveniently can. Say in an hour.”
“I feel quite strong enough, if I can really be of any help.”
“The greatest possible.”
“Perhaps you would like me to stay there to-night?”
“I was just going to propose it.”
“Then, if my friend of the night comes to revisit me, he will find the bird flown. We are all in your hands, Mr. Holmes, and you must tell us exactly what you would like done. Perhaps you would prefer that Joseph came with us so as to look after me?”
“Oh, no; my friend Watson is a medical man, you know, and he’ll look after you. We’ll have our lunch here, if you will permit us, and then we shall all three set off for town together.”
It was arranged as he suggested, though Miss Harrison excused herself from leaving the bedroom, in accordance with Holmes’s suggestion. What the object of my friend’s manoeuvres was I could not conceive, unless it were to keep the lady away from Phelps, who, rejoiced by his returning health and by the prospect of action, lunched with us in the dining-room. Holmes had a still more startling surprise for us, however, for, after accompanying us down to the station and seeing us into our carriage, he calmly announced that he had no intention of leaving Woking.
“There are one or two small points which I should desire to clear up before I go,” said he. “Your absence, Mr. Phelps, will in some ways rather assist me. Watson, when you reach London you would oblige me by driving at once to Baker Street with our friend here, and remaining with him until I see you again. It is fortunate that you are old school-fellows, as you must have much to talk over. Mr. Phelps can have the spare bedroom to-night, and I will be with you in time for breakfast, for there is a train which will take me into Waterloo at eight.”
“But how about our investigation in London?” asked Phelps, ruefully.
“We can do that to-morrow. I think that just at present I can be of more immediate use here.”
“You might tell them at Briarbrae that I hope to be back to-morrow night,” cried Phelps, as we began to move from the platform.
“I hardly expect to go back to Briarbrae,” answered Holmes, and waved his hand to us cheerily as we shot out from the station.
Phelps and I talked it over on our journey, but neither of us could devise a satisfactory reason for this new development.
“I suppose he wants to find out some clue as to the burglary last night, if a burglar it was. For myself, I don’t believe it was an ordinary thief.”
“What is your own idea, then?”
“Upon my word, you may put it down to my weak nerves or not, but I believe there is some deep political intrigue going on around me, and that for some reason that passes my understanding my life is aimed at by the conspirators. It sounds high-flown and absurd, but consider the facts! Why should a thief try to break in at a bedroom window, where there could be no hope of any plunder, and why should he come with a long knife in his hand?”
“You are sure it was not a house-breaker’s jimmy?”
“Oh, no, it was a knife. I saw the flash of the blade quite distinctly.”
“But why on earth should you be pursued with such animosity?”
“Ah, that is the question.”
“Well, if Holmes takes the same view, that would account for his action, would it not? Presuming that your theory is correct, if he can lay his hands upon the man who threatened you last night he will have gone a long way towards finding who took the naval treaty. It is absurd to suppose that you have two enemies, one of whom robs you, while the other threatens your life.”
“But Holmes said that he was not going to Briarbrae.”
“I have known him for some time,” said I, “but I never knew him do anything yet without a very good reason,” and with that our conversation drifted off on to other topics.
But it was a weary day for me. Phelps was still weak after his long illness, and his misfortune made him querulous and nervous. In vain I endeavored to interest him in Afghanistan, in India, in social questions, in anything which might take his mind out of the groove. He would always come back to his lost treaty, wondering, guessing, speculating, as to what Holmes was doing, what steps Lord Holdhurst was taking, what news we should have in the morning. As the evening wore on his excitement became quite painful.
“You have implicit faith in Holmes?” he asked.
“I have seen him do some remarkable things.”
“But he never brought light into anything quite so dark as this?”
“Oh, yes; I have known him solve questions which presented fewer clues than yours.”
“But not where such large interests are at stake?”
“I don’t know that. To my certain knowledge he has acted on behalf of three of the reigning houses of Europe in very vital matters.”
“But you know him well, Watson. He is such an inscrutable fellow that I never quite know what to make of him. Do you think he is hopeful? Do you think he expects to make a success of it?”
“He has said nothing.”
“That is a bad sign.”
“On the contrary, I have noticed that when he is off the trail he generally says so. It is when he is on a scent and is not quite absolutely sure yet that it is the right one that he is most taciturn. Now, my dear fellow, we can’t help matters by making ourselves nervous about them, so let me implore you to go to bed and so be fresh for whatever may await us to-morrow.”
I was able at last to persuade my companion to take my advice, though I knew from his excited manner that there was not much hope of sleep for him. Indeed, his mood was infectious, for I lay tossing half the night myself, brooding over this strange problem, and inventing a hundred theories, each of which was more impossible than the last. Why had Holmes remained at Woking? Why had he asked Miss Harrison to remain in the sick-room all day? Why had he been so careful not to inform the people at Briarbrae that he intended to remain near them? I cudgelled my brains until I fell asleep in the endeavor to find some explanation which would cover all these facts.
It was seven o’clock when I awoke, and I set off at once for Phelps’s room, to find him haggard and spent after a sleepless night. His first question was whether Holmes had arrived yet.
“He’ll be here when he promised,” said I, “and not an instant sooner or later.”
And my words were true, for shortly after eight a hansom dashed up to the door and our friend got out of it. Standing in the window we saw that his left hand was swathed in a bandage and that his face was very grim and pale. He entered the house, but it was some little time before he came upstairs.
“He looks like a beaten man,” cried Phelps.
I was forced to confess that he was right. “After all,” said I, “the clue of the matter lies probably here in town.”
Phelps gave a groan.
“I don’t know how it is,” said he, “but I had hoped for so much from his return. But surely his hand was not tied up like that yesterday. What can be the matter?”
“You are not wounded, Holmes?” I asked, as my friend entered the room.
“Tut, it is only a scratch through my own clumsiness,” he answered, nodding his good-mornings to us. “This case of yours, Mr. Phelps, is certainly one of the darkest which I have ever investigated.”
“I feared that you would find it beyond you.”
“It has been a most remarkable experience.”
“That bandage tells of adventures,” said I. “Won’t you tell us what has happened?”
“After breakfast, my dear Watson. Remember that I have breathed thirty miles of Surrey air this morning. I suppose that there has been no answer from my cabman advertisement? Well, well, we cannot expect to score every time.”
The table was all laid, and just as I was about to ring Mrs. Hudson entered with the tea and coffee. A few minutes later she brought in three covers, and we all drew up to the table, Holmes ravenous, I curious, and Phelps in the gloomiest state of depression.
“Mrs. Hudson has risen to the occasion,” said Holmes, uncovering a dish of curried chicken. “Her cuisine is a little limited, but she has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotch-woman. What have you here, Watson?”
“Ham and eggs,” I answered.
“Good! What are you going to take, Mr. Phelps—curried fowl or eggs, or will you help yourself?”
“Thank you. I can eat nothing,” said Phelps.
“Oh, come! Try the dish before you.”
“Thank you, I would really rather not.”
“Well, then,” said Holmes, with a mischievous twinkle, “I suppose that you have no objection to helping me?”
Phelps raised the cover, and as he did so he uttered a scream, and sat there staring with a face as white as the plate upon which he looked. Across the centre of it was lying a little cylinder of blue-gray paper. He caught it up, devoured it with his eyes, and then danced madly about the room, pressing it to his bosom and shrieking out in his delight. Then he fell back into an arm-chair so limp and exhausted with his own emotions that we had to pour brandy down his throat to keep him from fainting.
“There! there!” said Holmes, soothing, patting him upon the shoulder. “It was too bad to spring it on you like this, but Watson here will tell you that I never can resist a touch of the dramatic.”
Phelps seized his hand and kissed it. “God bless you!” he cried. “You have saved my honor.”
“Well, my own was at stake, you know,” said Holmes. “I assure you it is just as hateful to me to fail in a case as it can be to you to blunder over a commission.”
Phelps thrust away the precious document into the innermost pocket of his coat.
“I have not the heart to interrupt your breakfast any further, and yet I am dying to know how you got it and where it was.”
Sherlock Holmes swallowed a cup of coffee, and turned his attention to the ham and eggs. Then he rose, lit his pipe, and settled himself down into his chair.
“I’ll tell you what I did first, and how I came to do it afterwards,” said he. “After leaving you at the station I went for a charming walk through some admirable Surrey scenery to a pretty little village called Ripley, where I had my tea at an inn, and took the precaution of filling my flask and of putting a paper of sandwiches in my pocket. There I remained until evening, when I set off for Woking again, and found myself in the high-road outside Briarbrae just after sunset.
“Well, I waited until the road was clear—it is never a very frequented one at any time, I fancy—and then I clambered over the fence into the grounds.”
“Surely the gate was open!” ejaculated Phelps.
“Yes, but I have a peculiar taste in these matters. I chose the place where the three fir-trees stand, and behind their screen I got over without the least chance of any one in the house being able to see me. I crouched down among the bushes on the other side, and crawled from one to the other—witness the disreputable state of my trouser knees—until I had reached the clump of rhododendrons just opposite to your bedroom window. There I squatted down and awaited developments.
“The blind was not down in your room, and I could see Miss Harrison sitting there reading by the table. It was quarter-past ten when she closed her book, fastened the shutters, and retired.
“I heard her shut the door, and felt quite sure that she had turned the key in the lock.”
“The key!” ejaculated Phelps.
“Yes; I had given Miss Harrison instructions to lock the door on the outside and take the key with her when she went to bed. She carried out every one of my injunctions to the letter, and certainly without her cooperation you would not have that paper in you coat-pocket. She departed then and the lights went out, and I was left squatting in the rhododendron-bush.
“The night was fine, but still it was a very weary vigil. Of course it has the sort of excitement about it that the sportsman feels when he lies beside the water-course and waits for the big game. It was very long, though—almost as long, Watson, as when you and I waited in that deadly room when we looked into the little problem of the Speckled Band. There was a church-clock down at Woking which struck the quarters, and I thought more than once that it had stopped. At last however about two in the morning, I suddenly heard the gentle sound of a bolt being pushed back and the creaking of a key. A moment later the servants’ door was opened, and Mr. Joseph Harrison stepped out into the moonlight.”
“Joseph!” ejaculated Phelps.
“He was bare-headed, but he had a black coat thrown over his shoulder so that he could conceal his face in an instant if there were any alarm. He walked on tiptoe under the shadow of the wall, and when he reached the window he worked a long-bladed knife through the sash and pushed back the catch. Then he flung open the window, and putting his knife through the crack in the shutters, he thrust the bar up and swung them open.
“From where I lay I had a perfect view of the inside of the room and of every one of his movements. He lit the two candles which stood upon the mantelpiece, and then he proceeded to turn back the corner of the carpet in the neighborhood of the door. Presently he stopped and picked out a square piece of board, such as is usually left to enable plumbers to get at the joints of the gas-pipes. This one covered, as a matter of fact, the T joint which gives off the pipe which supplies the kitchen underneath. Out of this hiding-place he drew that little cylinder of paper, pushed down the board, rearranged the carpet, blew out the candles, and walked straight into my arms as I stood waiting for him outside the window.
“Well, he has rather more viciousness than I gave him credit for, has Master Joseph. He flew at me with his knife, and I had to grasp him twice, and got a cut over the knuckles, before I had the upper hand of him. He looked murder out of the only eye he could see with when we had finished, but he listened to reason and gave up the papers. Having got them I let my man go, but I wired full particulars to Forbes this morning. If he is quick enough to catch his bird, well and good. But if, as I shrewdly suspect, he finds the nest empty before he gets there, why, all the better for the government. I fancy that Lord Holdhurst for one, and Mr. Percy Phelps for another, would very much rather that the affair never got as far as a police-court.
“My God!” gasped our client. “Do you tell me that during these long ten weeks of agony the stolen papers were within the very room with me all the time?”
“So it was.”
“And Joseph! Joseph a villain and a thief!”
“Hum! I am afraid Joseph’s character is a rather deeper and more dangerous one than one might judge from his appearance. From what I have heard from him this morning, I gather that he has lost heavily in dabbling with stocks, and that he is ready to do anything on earth to better his fortunes. Being an absolutely selfish man, when a chance presented itself he did not allow either his sister’s happiness or your reputation to hold his hand.”
Percy Phelps sank back in his chair. “My head whirls,” said he. “Your words have dazed me.”
“The principal difficulty in your case,” remarked Holmes, in his didactic fashion, “lay in the fact of there being too much evidence. What was vital was overlaid and hidden by what was irrelevant. Of all the facts which were presented to us we had to pick just those which we deemed to be essential, and then piece them together in their order, so as to reconstruct this very remarkable chain of events. I had already begun to suspect Joseph, from the fact that you had intended to travel home with him that night, and that therefore it was a likely enough thing that he should call for you, knowing the Foreign Office well, upon his way. When I heard that some one had been so anxious to get into the bedroom, in which no one but Joseph could have concealed anything—you told us in your narrative how you had turned Joseph out when you arrived with the doctor—my suspicions all changed to certainties, especially as the attempt was made on the first night upon which the nurse was absent, showing that the intruder was well acquainted with the ways of the house.”
“How blind I have been!”
“The facts of the case, as far as I have worked them out, are these: this Joseph Harrison entered the office through the Charles Street door, and knowing his way he walked straight into your room the instant after you left it. Finding no one there he promptly rang the bell, and at the instant that he did so his eyes caught the paper upon the table. A glance showed him that chance had put in his way a State document of immense value, and in an instant he had thrust it into his pocket and was gone. A few minutes elapsed, as you remember, before the sleepy commissionnaire drew your attention to the bell, and those were just enough to give the thief time to make his escape.
“He made his way to Woking by the first train, and having examined his booty and assured himself that it really was of immense value, he had concealed it in what he thought was a very safe place, with the intention of taking it out again in a day or two, and carrying it to the French embassy, or wherever he thought that a long price was to be had. Then came your sudden return. He, without a moment’s warning, was bundled out of his room, and from that time onward there were always at least two of you there to prevent him from regaining his treasure. The situation to him must have been a maddening one. But at last he thought he saw his chance. He tried to steal in, but was baffled by your wakefulness. You remember that you did not take your usual draught that night.”
“I fancy that he had taken steps to make that draught efficacious, and that he quite relied upon your being unconscious. Of course, I understood that he would repeat the attempt whenever it could be done with safety. Your leaving the room gave him the chance he wanted. I kept Miss Harrison in it all day so that he might not anticipate us. Then, having given him the idea that the coast was clear, I kept guard as I have described. I already knew that the papers were probably in the room, but I had no desire to rip up all the planking and skirting in search of them. I let him take them, therefore, from the hiding-place, and so saved myself an infinity of trouble. Is there any other point which I can make clear?”
“Why did he try the window on the first occasion,” I asked, “when he might have entered by the door?”
“In reaching the door he would have to pass seven bedrooms. On the other hand, he could get out on to the lawn with ease. Anything else?”
“You do not think,” asked Phelps, “that he had any murderous intention? The knife was only meant as a tool.”
“It may be so,” answered Holmes, shrugging his shoulders. “I can only say for certain that Mr. Joseph Harrison is a gentleman to whose mercy I should be extremely unwilling to trust.”
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