The chamber into 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, and 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 influence 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 23rd of May—he called me into his private room and, after complimenting me upon the good work which I had done, informed me that he had a new commission of trust for me to execute.

‘ “This,” said he, taking a grey roll of paper from his bureau, “is the original of that secret treaty between England and Italy, of which, I regret to say, some rumours have already got into the public Press. It is of enormous importance that nothing further should leak out. The French or Russian Embassies 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?”

‘ “Yes, sir.”

‘ “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, re-lock both the original and the draft in the desk, and hand them over to me personally tomorrow morning.”

‘I took the papers and—’

‘Excuse me an instant,’ said Holmes; ‘were you alone during this conversation?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘In a large room?’

‘Thirty feet each way.’

‘In the centre?’

‘Yes, about it.’