3 Witness to a Wedding

Chapter 3 Witness to a Wedding Putting his hands in his pockets, he stretched out his legs before the fire and began laughing helplessly. "What's so funny?" I asked. "You'll never guess, Watson, how I spent my morning." "I suppose you were watching the house of Irene Adler." "Quite so—or that's how my day began. I left the house in the character of an out-of-work

stable hand, so I could mingle with the horsey men around Miss Adler's residence—such men are always a wonderful source of gossip. I hung around the stables in Serpentine Mews, a courtyard that ran alongside her garden, and helped the stable hands rub down their horses. In exchange, I received twopence, something to drink, and as much information as I desired about Miss Irene Adler." "What did you learn?" I asked. "Well, she's quite a beauty, they tell me. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, goes out at five o'clock each day and returns at seven sharp for

dinner. She has a male friend who visits her once a day and sometimes twice—a dark-haired, handsome lawyer named Godfrey Norton. "I worried a little about this Godfrey Norton and wondered what sort of relationship he had with Miss Adler. If she was his client, then she had probably handed him the photograph for safekeeping. In that case, should I continue to watch Briony Lodge or should I turn my attention to his place of work? "On the other hand, if they were simply friends or romantic partners, then there was no problem. However, if she was in love with Mr. Norton, then presumably she was no longer in love with the king of Bohemia, so why try to stop him from marrying?

"I was walking up and down Serpentine Avenue mulling all this over and keeping an eye on the small, elegant villa where she lives, when a hansom cab pulled up outside it and a gentleman stepped out. He was remarkably handsome, with an aquiline nose and a fine moustache, and was undoubtedly this man, Godfrey Norton. "He appeared to be in a great hurry. Shouting at the cabman to wait, he knocked on the door and when the maid opened it, he brushed past her with the air of someone arriving at his regular home.

"He was in the house for about half an hour. I caught glimpses of him in the windows of the sitting room, pacing up and down, waving his arms, and talking excitedly. Of Miss Adler I saw nothing. He emerged looking in even more of a rush than before. As he stepped into the cab, he pulled a gold watch from his pocket and stared at it. 'The Church of St. Monica in the Edgware Road,' he shouted. 'I'll give you half a sovereign if you can make it in twenty minutes.' "Away they went, and I was just debating whether to follow them when along the lane came a neat little carriage. Before it had even halted outside Briony Lodge, the front door of the house flew open and out shot Irene Adler.

She looked even lovelier than the stable hands had described. 'The Church of St. Monica, John,' she said to the coachman, 'and you can have half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.' "It was clear to me, Watson, that something very interesting was brewing and I simply had to get to that church. The trouble was how? Should I run there or get a ride by jumping onto the back of her carriage? "Luckily, I was saved from both of these disagreeable alternatives when a cab turned into the street. The driver looked doubtfully at such a