“It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by puttingit on a level with his own，” said Sherlock Holmes， laughing. “Ithink that I shall have a whisky and soda and a cigar after all thiscross-questioning. I had formed my conclusions as to the casebefore our client came into the room.”
“My dear Holmes！”
“I have notes of several similar cases， though none， as I remarkedbefore， which were quite as prompt. My whole examination servedto turn my conjecture into a certainty. Circumstantial evidence isoccasionally very convincing， as when you find a trout in the milk，to quote Thoreau’s example.”
“But I have heard all that you have heard.”
“Without， however， the knowledge of preёxisting cases whichserves me so well. There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen someyears back， and something on very much the same lines at Munichthe year after the Franco-Prussian War. It is one of these cases—but， hello， here is Lestrade！ Good-afternoon， Lestrade！ You willfind an extra tumbler upon the sideboard， and there are cigars inthe box.”
The official detective was attired in a pea-jacket and cravat，which gave him a decidedly nautical appearance， and he carrieda black canvas bag in his hand. With a short greeting he seatedhimself and lit the cigar which had been offered to him.
“What’s up， then？” asked Holmes with a twinkle in his eye. “Youlook dissatisfied.”
“And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal St. Simon marriagecase. I can make neither head nor tail of the business.”
“Really！ You surprise me.”
“Who ever heard of such a mixed affair？ Every clue seems to slipthrough my fingers. I have been at work upon it all day.”
“And very wet it seems to have made you，” said Holmes， layinghis hand upon the arm of the pea-jacket.
“Yes， I have been dragging the Serpentine.”
“In heaven’s name， what for？”
“In search of the body of Lady St. Simon.”
Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily.
“Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar Square fountain？” heasked.
“Why？ What do you mean？”
“Because you have just as good a chance of finding this lady inthe one as in the other.”
Lestrade shot an angry glance at my companion. “I suppose youknow all about it，” he snarled.
“Well， I have only just heard the facts， but my mind is made up.”
“Oh， indeed！ Then you think that the Serpentine plays no partin the matter？”
“I think it very unlikely.”
“Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we foundthis in it？” He opened his bag as he spoke， and tumbled onto thefloor a wedding-dress of watered silk， a pair of white satin shoesand a bride’s wreath and veil， all discoloured and soaked in water.
“There，” said he， putting a new wedding-ring upon the top of thepile. “There is a little nut for you to crack， Master Holmes.”
“Oh， indeed！” said my friend， blowing blue rings into the air. “Youdragged them from the Serpentine？”
“No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper.
They have been identified as her clothes， and it seemed to me thatif the clothes were there the body would not be far off.”
“By the same brilliant reasoning， every man’s body is to be foundin the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did youhope to arrive at through this？”
“At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance.”
“I am afraid that you will find it difficult.”
“Are you， indeed， now？” cried Lestrade with some bitterness.
“I am afraid， Holmes， that you are not very practical with yourdeductions and your inferences. You have made two blunders in asmany minutes. This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar.”
“And how？”
“In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In thecard-case is a note. And here is the very note.” He slapped it downupon the table in front of him. “Listen to this：
‘You will see me when all is ready. Come at once.
F. H. M.’
Now my theory all along has been that Lady St. Simon wasdecoyed away by Flora Millar， and that she， with confederates， nodoubt， was responsible for her disappearance. Here， signed withher initials， is the very note which was no doubt quietly slippedinto her hand at the door and which lured her within their reach.”
“Very good， Lestrade，” said Holmes， laughing. “You really arevery fine indeed. Let me see it.” He took up the paper in a listlessway， but his attention instantly became riveted， and he gave a littlecry of satisfaction. “This is indeed important，” said he.
“Ha！ you find it so？”
“Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly.”
Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. “Why，”
he shrieked， “you’re looking at the wrong side！”
“On the contrary， this is the right side.”
“The right side？ You’re mad！ Here is the note written in pencilover here.”
“And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotelbill， which interests me deeply.”
“There’s nothing in it. I looked at it before，” said Lestrade.
“ ‘Oct. 4th， rooms 8s.， breakfast 2s. 6d.， cocktail 1s.， lunch 2s. 6d.，glass sherry， 8d.’
I see nothing in that.”
“Very likely not. It is most important， all the same. As to the note，it is important also， or at least the initials are， so I congratulate youagain.”
“I’ve wasted time enough，” said Lestrade， rising. “I believe inhard work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories.
Good-day， Mr. Holmes， and we shall see which gets to the bottomof the matter first.” He gathered up the garments， thrust theminto the bag， and made for the door.
“Just one hint to you， Lestrade，” drawled Holmes before his rivalvanished； “I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady St. Simonis a myth. There is not， and there never has been， any such person.”
Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me，tapped his forehead three times， shook his head solemnly， andhurried away.
He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose toput on his overcoat. “There is something in what the fellow saysabout outdoor work，” he remarked， “so I think， Watson， that Imust leave you to your papers for a little.”
