THE WHALE TOOTH - by Jack London
(1) It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the
mission house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying
the gospel throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the "Great
Land," it being the largest island in a group composed of many large
islands, to say nothing of hundreds of small ones. Here and there on
the coasts, living by most precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of
missionaries, traders, bêche-de-mer fishers, and whaleship deserters.
The smoke of the hot ovens arose under their windows, and the bodies of
the slain were dragged by their doors on the way to the feasting.

(2) The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in
crablike fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and
were welcomed into the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of
backsliding in order to partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat
or be eaten had been the law of the land; and eat or be eaten promised
to remain the law of the land for a long time to come. There were
chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, and Tuikilakila, who had literally
eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But among these gluttons Ra
Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki. He kept a
register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside his house
marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty
paces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two.
Each stone represented a body. The row of stones might have been longer,
had not Ra Undreundre unfortunately received a spear in the small of his
back in a bush skirmish on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of
Naungavuli, whose mediocre string of stones numbered only forty-eight.

(3) The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their
task, at times despairing, and looking forward for some special
manifestation, some outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a
glorious harvest of souls. But cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The
frizzle-headed man-eaters were loath to leave their fleshpots so long as
the harvest of human carcases was plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest
was too plentiful, they imposed on the missionaries by letting the word
slip out that on such a day there would be a killing and a barbecue.
Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of the victims with stick
tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads. Natheless the
chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus live
meat. Also, they could always go out and catch more.

(4) It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would
carry the Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he
would begin by penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of
the Rewa River. His words were received with consternation.

(5) The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to
dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers
would surely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning "to eat"--and that he, the
King of Rewa, having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going
to war with the mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he
was perfectly aware. That they might come down the river and sack Rewa
Village he was likewise perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John
Starhurst persisted in going out and being eaten, there would be a war
that would cost hundreds of lives.

(6) Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst.
He heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he
abated not a whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he
explained that he was not bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come
for him to carry the Gospel into Viti Levu, and that he was merely
obeying the Lord's wish.

(7) To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said:
"Your objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that
may be done your businesses. You are interested in making money, but
I am interested in saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be
saved."

(8) John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to
deny the imputation. He was eminently sane and practical.

(9) He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had
private visions of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the
mountaineers and of inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of
the mountains and across the length and breadth of the Great Land from
sea to sea and to the isles in the midst of the sea. There were no
wild lights in his mild gray eyes, but only calm resolution and an
unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that was guiding him.

(10) One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu,
who secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first
foothills. John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's
conduct. From an incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his
practices, Ra Vatu was beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of
becoming Lotu. True, three years before he had expressed a similar
intention, and would have entered the church had not John Starhurst
entered objection to his bringing his four wives along with him. Ra
Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. Besides, the
missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to prove
that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war
club over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under
the club and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now
forgiven and forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely
as a converted heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was
only waiting, he assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very
sick, should die.

(11) John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's
canoes. This canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of
navigation reached, it would return. Far in the distance, lifted
into the sky, could be seen the great smoky mountains that marked the
backbone of the Great Land. All day John Starhurst gazed at them with
eager yearning.

(12) Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by
Narau, a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since
the day he had been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown
at the trifling expense of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton
blankets, and a large bottle of painkiller. At the last moment, after
twenty hours of solitary supplication and prayer, Narau's ears had
heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst on the mission to the
mountains.

(13) "Master, I will surely go with thee," he had announced.

(14) John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was
with him thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau.

(15) "I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels," Narau
explained, the first day in the canoe.

(16) "You should have faith, stronger faith," the missionary chided him.

(17) Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an
hour astern, and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the
property of Ra Vatu. In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and
trusted henchman; and in the small basket that never left his hand was
a whale tooth. It was a magnificent tooth, fully six inches long,
beautifully proportioned, the ivory turned yellow and purple with age.
This tooth was likewise the property of Ra Vatu; and in Fiji, when such
a tooth goes forth, things usually happen. For this is the virtue of
the whale tooth: Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request that may
accompany it or follow it. The request may be anything from a human life
to a tribal alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny the
request when once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request
hangs fire, or the fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences.

(18) High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John
Starhurst rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the
morning, attended by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky
mountains that were now green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was
a sweet-tempered, mild-mannered little old chief, short-sighted
and afflicted with elephantiasis, and no longer inclined toward the
turbulence of war. He received the missionary with warm hospitality,
gave him food from his own table, and even discussed religious matters
with him. Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and pleased
John Starhurst greatly by asking him to account for the existence and
beginning of things. When the missionary had finished his summary of
the Creation according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply
affected. The little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he
took the pipe from his mouth and shook his head sadly.

(19) "It cannot be," he said. "I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman
with the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe--a small
canoe, a very small canoe. And you say that all this land and water was
made by one man--"

(20) "Nay, was made by one God, the only true God," the missionary
interrupted.

(21) "It is the same thing," Mongondro went on, "that all the land and all
the water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the
moon, and the stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in
my youth I was an able man, yet did it require me three months for one
small canoe. It is a story to frighten children with; but no man can
believe it."

(22) "I am a man," the missionary said.

(23) "True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to
know what you believe."

(24) "I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days."

(25) "So you say, so you say," the old cannibal murmured soothingly.

(26) It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed
that Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech,
handed the whale tooth to Mongondro.

(27) The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a
beautiful tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request
that must accompany it. "No, no; whale teeth were beautiful," and
his mouth watered for it, but he passed it back to Erirola with many
apologies.

                           *****

(28) In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush
trail in his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself
at the heels of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to
the next village, which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed
the way. A mile in the rear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the
basket slung on his shoulder. For two days more he brought up the
missionary's rear, offering the tooth to the village chiefs. But village
after village refused the tooth. It followed so quickly the missionary's
advent that they divined the request that would be made, and would have
none of it.

(29) They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret
trail, cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the
Buli of Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent
arrival. Also, the tooth was beautiful--an extraordinary specimen, while
the coloring of it was of the rarest order. The tooth was presented
publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, seated on his best mat, surrounded by his
chief men, three busy fly-brushers at his back, deigned to receive from
the hand of his herald the whale tooth presented by Ra Vatu and carried
into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. A clapping of hands went up
at the acceptance of the present, the assembled headman, heralds, and
fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus:

(30) "A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua,
mudua, mudua!'

(31) "Soon will come a man, a white man," Erirola began, after the proper
pause. "He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is
pleased to desire his boots. He wishes to present them to his good
friend, Mongondro, and it is in his mind to send them with the feet
along in them, for Mongondro is an old man and his teeth are not good.
Be sure, O Buli, that the feet go along in the boots. As for the rest of
him, it may stop here."

(32) The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he
glanced about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth.

(33) "A little thing like a missionary does not matter," Erirola prompted.

(34) "No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter," the Buli
answered, himself again. "Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young
men, some three or four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be
sure you bring back the boots as well."

(35) "It is too late," said Erirola. "Listen! He comes now."

(36) Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close
on his heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in
wading the stream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst
looked about him with flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust,
untouched by doubt or fear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that
since the beginning of time he was the first white man ever to tread the
mountain stronghold of Gatoka.

(37) The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the
rushing Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best,
three hours of sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts
nor bananas were to be seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran
everything, dripping in airy festoons from the sheer lips of the
precipices and running riot in all the crannied ledges. At the far end
of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight hundred feet in a single span, while
the atmosphere of the rock fortress pulsed to the rhythmic thunder of
the fall.

(38) From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his
followers.

(39) "I bring you good tidings," was the missionary's greeting.

(40) "Who has sent you?" the Buli rejoined quietly.

(41) "God."

(42) "It is a new name in Viti Levu," the Buli grinned. "Of what islands,
villages, or passes may he be chief?"

(43) "He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes," John
Starhurst answered solemnly. "He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and
I am come to bring His word to you."

(44) "Has he sent whale teeth?" was the insolent query.

(45) "No, but more precious than whale teeth is the--"

(46) "It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth," the Buli
interrupted.

(47) "Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed
into the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you."

(48) So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola.

(49) Narau groaned.

(50) "It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu," he whispered to Starhurst. "I know
it well. Now are we undone."

(51) "A gracious thing," the missionary answered, passing his hand through
his long beard and adjusting his glasses. "Ra Vatu has arranged that we
should be well received."

(52) But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged so
faithfully.

(53) "Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu," Starhurst explained, "and I have come
bringing the Lotu to you."

(54) "I want none of your Lotu," said the Buli, proudly. "And it is in my
mind that you will be clubbed this day."

(55) The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward,
swinging a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide
among the woman and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club
and threw his arms around his executioner's neck. From this point of
vantage he proceeded to argue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew
it; but he was neither excited nor afraid.

(56) "It would be an evil thing for you to kill me," he told the man. "I have
done you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong."

(57) So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not
strike with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for
his life with those who clamored for his death.

(58) "I am John Starhurst," he went on calmly. "I have labored in Fiji for
three years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for
good. Why should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man."

(59) The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed.

(60) The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling
to get at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was
raised, and his expostulations could no longer be heard. But so
cunningly did he twine and wreathe his body about his captor's that the
death blow could not be struck. Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry.

(61) "Away with you!" he cried. "A nice story to go back to the coast--a
dozen of you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman,
overcoming all of you."

(62) "Wait, O Buli," John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle,
"and I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and
no man can withstand them."

(63) "Come to me, then," the Buli answered, "for my weapon is only a poor
miserable club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you."

(64) The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the
Buli, who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub.

(65) "Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me," the Buli challenged.

(66) "Even so will I come to you and overcome you," John Starhurst made
answer, first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then
beginning his advance.

(67) The Buli raised the club and waited.

(68) "In the first place, my death will profit you nothing," began the
argument.

(69) "I leave the answer to my club," was the Buli's reply.

(70) And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching the
missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the
lifted club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his
death was at hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in
the sun and prayed aloud--the mysterious figure of the inevitable white
man, who, with Bible, bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the amazed
savage in his every stronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the rock
fortress of the Buli of Gatoka.

(71) "Forgive them, for they know not what they do," he prayed. "O Lord! Have
mercy upon Fiji. Have compassion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His
sake, Thy Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also
become Thy children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee
we may return. The land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art
mighty to save. Reach out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal
Fiji."

(72) The Buli grew impatient.

(73) "Now will I answer thee," he muttered, at the same time swinging his
club with both hands.

(74) Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the
blow and shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved
missionary's body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words:

(75) "Drag me gently. Drag me gently."

(76) "For I am the champion of my land."

(77) "Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!"

(78) Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking:

(79) "Where is the brave man?"

(80) A hundred voices bellowed the answer:

(81) "Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked."

(82) "Where is the coward?" the single voice demanded.

(83) "Gone to report!" the hundred voices bellowed back. "Gone to report!
Gone to report!"

(84) Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true.
He was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report.

Ghanaian Portraits -- Musicians

Photos by Richard Goodman

Copyright 2012

               


                   


























What Shall I Read ?

My name is Francis and I want to read some books.  You can see a photo of me above.  I live in Ghana.  

What shall I read ?   Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  Adventure book ? History ?  Science fiction ?  True stories or made-up stories ?   Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  Let me think.  How about a story of the invasion of Earth by Martians.  Here's something I found on Project Gutenberg, where there are thousands of free books.

For Francis if he wants to explore a few aspects of history and literature.

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/2nUKED/:1kEqpHLHr:Tj_h0GRu/awesome.good.is/features/011/Wanderlust/index.html/

I am Francis, and even though you may see Richard Goodman listed somewhere as the creator of this site, it is being put together for me, for readings, for things I can learn about, to further my education.  I live in Ghana, in a part of Accra called Tema.






Here's a place for all kinds of things I am interested in and want to read.  I think I will start with a photo of me and the beginnings of something for me -- AND OTHERS --  to read.  Hmmmm.  What book shall I start with ?  Let me go to Project Gutenberg and see what is there.  It is difficult to choose from among their thousands of free titles.

Mystery ?  Suspense ?  History ?  Adventure ?  Science Fiction ? Biography ?  Let me think.   Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  Shall we start with a mystery ?

THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

by

SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE



   I. A Scandal in Bohemia
  II. The Red-headed League
 III. A Case of Identity
  IV. The Boscombe Valley Mystery
   V. The Five Orange Pips
  VI. The Man with the Twisted Lip
 VII. The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle
VIII. The Adventure of the Speckled Band
  IX. The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb
   X. The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor
  XI. The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet
 XII. The Adventure of the Copper Beeches




ADVENTURE I. A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA

I.

(1)  To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heard
him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses
and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt
any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that
one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but
admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect
reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a
lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never
spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They
were admirable things for the observer--excellent for drawing the
veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner
to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely
adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which
might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a
sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power
lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a
nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and
that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable
memory.

(2)I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us
away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the
home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first
finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to
absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of
society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in
Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from
week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the
drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still,
as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his
immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in
following out those clues, and clearing up those mysteries which
had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time
to time I heard some vague account of his doings: of his summons
to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up
of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee,
and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so
delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland.
Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely
shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of
my former friend and companion.

(3)  One night--it was on the twentieth of March, 1888--I was
returning from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to
civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I
passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated
in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the
Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes
again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers.
His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw
his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against
the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head
sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who
knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their
own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his
drug-created dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new
problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which
had formerly been in part my own.

(4)  His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I
think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly
eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars,
and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he
stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular
introspective fashion.

(5)  "Wedlock suits you," he remarked. "I think, Watson, that you have
put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you."

(6)  "Seven!" I answered.

(7)  "Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more,
I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not
tell me that you intended to go into harness."

(8)  "Then, how do you know?"

(9)  "I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting
yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and
careless servant girl?"

(10)  "My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much. You would certainly
have been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true
that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful
mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can't imagine how you
deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has
given her notice, but there, again, I fail to see how you work it
out."

(11)  He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands
together.

(12)  "It is simplicity itself," said he; "my eyes tell me that on the
inside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it,
the leather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they
have been caused by someone who has very carelessly scraped round
the edges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it.
Hence, you see, my double deduction that you had been out in vile
weather, and that you had a particularly malignant boot-slitting
specimen of the London slavey. As to your practice, if a
gentleman walks into my rooms smelling of iodoform, with a black
mark of nitrate of silver upon his right forefinger, and a bulge
on the right side of his top-hat to show where he has secreted
his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce
him to be an active member of the medical profession."

(13)  I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his
process of deduction. "When I hear you give your reasons," I
remarked, "the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously
simple that I could easily do it myself, though at each
successive instance of your reasoning I am baffled until you
explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good
as yours."

(14)  "Quite so," he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing
himself down into an armchair. "You see, but you do not observe.
The distinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen
the steps which lead up from the hall to this room."

(15) "Frequently."

(16) "How often?"

(17) "Well, some hundreds of times."

(18) "Then how many are there?"

(19) "How many? I don't know."

(20) "Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is
just my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps,
because I have both seen and observed. By-the-way, since you are
interested in these little problems, and since you are good
enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you
may be interested in this." He threw over a sheet of thick,
pink-tinted note-paper which had been lying open upon the table.
"It came by the last post," said he. "Read it aloud."

(21) The note was undated, and without either signature or address.

(22) "There will call upon you to-night, at a quarter to eight
o'clock," it said, "a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a
matter of the very deepest moment. Your recent services to one of
the royal houses of Europe have shown that you are one who may
safely be trusted with matters which are of an importance which
can hardly be exaggerated. This account of you we have from all
quarters received. Be in your chamber then at that hour, and do
not take it amiss if your visitor wear a mask."

(23) "This is indeed a mystery," I remarked. "What do you imagine that
it means?"

(24) "I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorize before
one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit
theories, instead of theories to suit facts. But the note itself.
What do you deduce from it?"

(25) I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it was
written.

(26) "The man who wrote it was presumably well to do," I remarked,
endeavouring to imitate my companion's processes. "Such paper
could not be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly
strong and stiff."

(27) "Peculiar--that is the very word," said Holmes. "It is not an
English paper at all. Hold it up to the light."

(28) I did so, and saw a large "E" with a small "g," a "P," and a
large "G" with a small "t" woven into the texture of the paper.

(29) "What do you make of that?" asked Holmes.

(30) "The name of the maker, no doubt; or his monogram, rather."

(31) "Not at all. The 'G' with the small 't' stands for
'Gesellschaft,' which is the German for 'Company.' It is a
customary contraction like our 'Co.' 'P,' of course, stands for
'Papier.' Now for the 'Eg.' Let us glance at our Continental
Gazetteer." He took down a heavy brown volume from his shelves.
"Eglow, Eglonitz--here we are, Egria. It is in a German-speaking
country--in Bohemia, not far from Carlsbad. 'Remarkable as being
the scene of the death of Wallenstein, and for its numerous
glass-factories and paper-mills.' Ha, ha, my boy, what do you
make of that?" His eyes sparkled, and he sent up a great blue
triumphant cloud from his cigarette.

(32) "The paper was made in Bohemia," I said.

(33) "Precisely. And the man who wrote the note is a German. Do you
note the peculiar construction of the sentence--'This account of
you we have from all quarters received.' A Frenchman or Russian
could not have written that. It is the German who is so
uncourteous to his verbs. It only remains, therefore, to discover
what is wanted by this German who writes upon Bohemian paper and
prefers wearing a mask to showing his face. And here he comes, if
I am not mistaken, to resolve all our doubts."

(34) As he spoke there was the sharp sound of horses' hoofs and
grating wheels against the curb, followed by a sharp pull at the
bell. Holmes whistled.

(35) "A pair, by the sound," said he. "Yes," he continued, glancing
out of the window. "A nice little brougham and a pair of
beauties. A hundred and fifty guineas apiece. There's money in
this case, Watson, if there is nothing else."

(36) "I think that I had better go, Holmes."

(37) "Not a bit, Doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my
Boswell. And this promises to be interesting. It would be a pity
to miss it."

(38) "But your client--"

(39) "Never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here he
comes. Sit down in that armchair, Doctor, and give us your best
attention."

(40) A slow and heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and
in the passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there
was a loud and authoritative tap.

(41) "Come in!" said Holmes.

(42) A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet six
inches in height, with the chest and limbs of a Hercules. His
dress was rich with a richness which would, in England, be looked
upon as akin to bad taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were slashed
across the sleeves and fronts of his double-breasted coat, while
the deep blue cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined
with flame-coloured silk and secured at the neck with a brooch
which consisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots which extended
halfway up his calves, and which were trimmed at the tops with
rich brown fur, completed the impression of barbaric opulence
which was suggested by his whole appearance. He carried a
broad-brimmed hat in his hand, while he wore across the upper
part of his face, extending down past the cheekbones, a black
vizard mask, which he had apparently adjusted that very moment,
for his hand was still raised to it as he entered. From the lower
part of the face he appeared to be a man of strong character,
with a thick, hanging lip, and a long, straight chin suggestive
of resolution pushed to the length of obstinacy.

(43) "You had my note?" he asked with a deep harsh voice and a
strongly marked German accent. "I told you that I would call." He
looked from one to the other of us, as if uncertain which to
address.

(44) "Pray take a seat," said Holmes. "This is my friend and
colleague, Dr. Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me
in my cases. Whom have I the honour to address?"

(45) "You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman.
I understand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honour
and discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most
extreme importance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate
with you alone."

(46) I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me
back into my chair. "It is both, or none," said he. "You may say
before this gentleman anything which you may say to me."

(47) The Count shrugged his broad shoulders. "Then I must begin," said
he, "by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years; at
the end of that time the matter will be of no importance. At
present it is not too much to say that it is of such weight it
may have an influence upon European history."

(48) "I promise," said Holmes.

(49) "And I."

(50) "You will excuse this mask," continued our strange visitor. "The
august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to
you, and I may confess at once that the title by which I have
just called myself is not exactly my own."

(51) "I was aware of it," said Holmes dryly.

(52) "The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution
has to be taken to quench what might grow to be an immense
scandal and seriously compromise one of the reigning families of
Europe. To speak plainly, the matter implicates the great House
of Ormstein, hereditary kings of Bohemia."

(53) "I was also aware of that," murmured Holmes, settling himself
down in his armchair and closing his eyes.

(54) Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid,
lounging figure of the man who had been no doubt depicted to him
as the most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe.
Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at his
gigantic client.

(55) "If your Majesty would condescend to state your case," he
remarked, "I should be better able to advise you."

(56) The man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in
uncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he
tore the mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground. "You
are right," he cried; "I am the King. Why should I attempt to
conceal it?"

(57) "Why, indeed?" murmured Holmes. "Your Majesty had not spoken
before I was aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich
Sigismond von Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, and
hereditary King of Bohemia."

(58) "But you can understand," said our strange visitor, sitting down
once more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, "you
can understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in
my own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not
confide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I
have come incognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting
you."

(59) "Then, pray consult," said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more.

(60) "The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a
lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the well-known
adventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you."

(61) "Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor," murmured Holmes without
opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of
docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it
was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not
at once furnish information. In this case I found her biography
sandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a
staff-commander who had written a monograph upon the deep-sea
fishes.

(62) "Let me see!" said Holmes. "Hum! Born in New Jersey in the year
1858. Contralto--hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna Imperial Opera
of Warsaw--yes! Retired from operatic stage--ha! Living in
London--quite so! Your Majesty, as I understand, became entangled
with this young person, wrote her some compromising letters, and
is now desirous of getting those letters back."

(63) "Precisely so. But how--"

(64) "Was there a secret marriage?"

(65) "None."

(66) "No legal papers or certificates?"

(67) "None."

(68) "Then I fail to follow your Majesty. If this young person should
produce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is
she to prove their authenticity?"

(69)"There is the writing."

(70) "Pooh, pooh! Forgery."

(71) "My private note-paper."

(72) "Stolen."

(73) "My own seal."

(74) "Imitated."

(75) "My photograph."

(76) "Bought."

(77) "We were both in the photograph."

(78) "Oh, dear! That is very bad! Your Majesty has indeed committed an
indiscretion."

(79) "I was mad--insane."

(80) "You have compromised yourself seriously."

(81) "I was only Crown Prince then. I was young. I am but thirty now."

(82) "It must be recovered."

(83) "We have tried and failed."

(84) "Your Majesty must pay. It must be bought."

(85) "She will not sell."

(86) "Stolen, then."

(87) "Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransacked
her house. Once we diverted her luggage when she travelled. Twice
she has been waylaid. There has been no result."

(88) "No sign of it?"

(89) "Absolutely none."

(90)Holmes laughed. "It is quite a pretty little problem," said he.

(91) "But a very serious one to me," returned the King reproachfully.

(92) "Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with the
photograph?"

(93) "To ruin me."

(94) "But how?"

(95) "I am about to be married."

(96) "So I have heard."

(97) "To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meningen, second daughter of the
King of Scandinavia. You may know the strict principles of her
family. She is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a
doubt as to my conduct would bring the matter to an end."

(98) "And Irene Adler?"

(99) "Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. I
know that she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soul
of steel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women, and
the mind of the most resolute of men. Rather than I should marry
another woman, there are no lengths to which she would not
go--none."

(100) "You are sure that she has not sent it yet?"

(101) "I am sure."

(102) "And why?"

(103) "Because she has said that she would send it on the day when the
betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday."

(104) "Oh, then we have three days yet," said Holmes with a yawn. "That
is very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance to
look into just at present. Your Majesty will, of course, stay in
London for the present?"

(105) "Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name of the
Count Von Kramm."

(106) "Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress."

(107) "Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety."

(108) "Then, as to money?"

(109) "You have carte blanche."

(110) "Absolutely?"

(111) "I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom
to have that photograph."

(112) "And for present expenses?"

(113) The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak
and laid it on the table.

(114) "There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in
notes," he said.

(115) Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-book and
handed it to him.

(116) "And Mademoiselle's address?" he asked.

(117) "Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood."

(118) Holmes took a note of it. "One other question," said he. "Was the
photograph a cabinet?"

(119) "It was."

(120) "Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon
have some good news for you. And good-night, Watson," he added,
as the wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street. "If
you will be good enough to call to-morrow afternoon at three
o'clock I should like to chat this little matter over with you."