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.


“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.


“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?”


“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.”


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.”


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.”


“I promise,” said Holmes.


“And I.”


“You will excuse this mask,” continued our strange visitor.

“The august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you,