He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutesin the character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformistclergyman. His broad black hat， his baggy trousers， his white tie，his sympathetic smile， and general look of peering and benevolentcuriosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could have equalled. Itwas not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His expression，his manner， his very soul seemed to vary with every fresh part thathe assumed. The stage lost a fine actor， even as science lost anacute reasoner， when he became a specialist in crime.
It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street， and it stillwanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves inSerpentine Avenue. It was already dusk， and the lamps were justbeing lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge，waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just suchas I had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes’ succinct description，but the locality appeared to be less private than I expected. Onthe contrary， for a small street in a quiet neighbourhood， it wasremarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressedmen smoking and laughing in a corner， a scissors-grinder with hiswheel， two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse-girl， andseveral well-dressed young men who were lounging up and downwith cigars in their mouths.
“You see，” remarked Holmes， as we paced to and fro in frontof the house， “this marriage rather simplifies matters. Thephotograph becomes a double-edged weapon now. The chancesare that she would be as averse to its being seen by Mr. GodfreyNorton， as our client is to its coming to the eyes of his princess.
Now the question is， Where are we to find the photograph？”
“Where， indeed？”
“It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It iscabinet size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman’sdress. She knows that the King is capable of having her waylaidand searched. Two attempts of the sort have already been made.
We may take it， then， that she does not carry it about with her.”
“Where， then？”
“Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. ButI am inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive，and they like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand itover to anyone else？ She could trust her own guardianship， butshe could not tell what indirect or political influence might bebrought to bear upon a business man. Besides， remember that shehad resolved to use it within a few days. It must be where she canlay her hands upon it. It must be in her own house.”
“But it has twice been burgled.”
“Pshaw！ They did not know how to look.”
“But how will you look？”
“I will not look.”
“What then？”
“I will get her to show me.”
“But she will refuse.”
“She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It isher carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter.”
As he spoke the gleam of the side-lights of a carriage cameround the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau whichrattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up， one of theloafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in thehope of earning a copper， but was elbowed away by another loafer，who had rushed up with the same intention. A fierce quarrelbroke out， which was increased by the two guardsmen， who tooksides with one of the loungers， and by the scissors-grinder， whowas equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck， and inan instant the lady， who had stepped from her carriage， was thecentre of a little knot of flushed and struggling men， who strucksavagely at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes dashedinto the crowd to protect the lady； but， just as he reached her， hegave a cry and dropped to the ground， with the blood runningfreely down his face. At his fall the guardsmen took to their heelsin one direction and the loungers in the other， while a number ofbetter-dressed people， who had watched the scuffle without takingpart in it， crowded in to help the lady and to attend to the injuredman. Irene Adler， as I will still call her， had hurried up the steps；but she stood at the top with her superb figure outlined againstthe lights of the hall， looking back into the street.
“Is the poor gentleman much hurt？” she asked.
“He is dead，” cried several voices.
“No， no， there’s life in him！” shouted another. “But he’ll be gonebefore you can get him to hospital.”
“He’s a brave fellow，” said a woman. “They would have had thelady’s purse and watch if it hadn’t been for him. They were a gang，and a rough one， too. Ah， he’s breathing now.”
“He can’t lie in the street. May we bring him in， marm？”
“Surely. Bring him into the sitting-room. There is a comfortablesofa. This way， please！”
Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laidout in the principal room， while I still observed the proceedingsfrom my post by the window. The lamps had been lit， but theblinds had not been drawn， so that I could see Holmes as helay upon the couch. I do not know whether he was seized withcompunction at that moment for the part he was playing， butI know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in mylife than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I wasconspiring， or the grace and kindliness with which she waitedupon the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treacheryto Holmes to draw back now from the part which he had intrustedto me. I hardened my heart， and took the smoke-rocket fromunder my ulster. After all， I thought， we are not injuring her. Weare but preventing her from injuring another.
