waylaid. There has been no result.”


“No sign of it?”


“Absolutely none.”


Holmes laughed. “It is quite a pretty little problem,” said he.


“But a very serious one to me,” returned the King reproachfully.


“Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with the

photograph?”


“To ruin me.”


“But how?”


“I am about to be married.”


“So I have heard.”


“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.”


“And Irene Adler?”


“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.”


“You are sure that she has not sent it yet?”


“I am sure.”


“And why?”


“Because she has said that she would send it on the day when the

betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday.”


“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?”


“Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name of the Count

Von Kramm.”


“Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress.”


“Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety.”


“Then, as to money?”


“You have carte blanche.”


“Absolutely?”


“I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom to have

that photograph.”


“And for present expenses?”


The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak and laid it on

the table.


“There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in