"Watson," said Holmes to me one warm June evening, "since you are good enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you may be interested in this." He threw over a sheet of thick notepaper which had been lying open upon the table. "It came by the last post," said he. "Read it aloud."

The note was undated, and without either signature or address. I began to peruse it.

"It is in German!" I said.

"Yes," said Holmes dryly, "What else?"

"There will call upon you to-night, after eleven o'clock," I translated, "a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a matter of the very deepest moment. We believe that you are one who may safely be trusted with matters of the utmost importance. This account of you we have from all quarters received."

"There are several unusual points here," said Holmes.

"This is indeed a mystery," I remarked. "What do you imagine that it means?"

He smiled. "What do you deduce from the note?"

I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it was written.

"The man who wrote it was presumably well to do," I remarked, endeavouring to imitate my companion's processes. "Such paper could not be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly strong and stiff."

"Peculiar—that is the very word," said Holmes. "It is not an English paper at all. It only remains to discover what is wanted by this German- or, as I suspect, this Bavarian- who writes upon costly paper and prefers to come in the middle of the night. And here he comes, if I am not mistaken, to resolve all our doubts."

As he spoke there was the sharp sound of horses' hoofs and grating wheels against the curb, followed by a sharp pull at the bell. Holmes whistled.

"A pair, by the sound," said he. "Yes," he continued, glancing out of the window. "A brougham. Not nearly as elegant as one would expect from the notepaper, though. At last this is getting interesting."

"I think that I had better go, Holmes."

"Not a bit, Doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my Boswell."

"But your client—"

"Never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here he comes. Sit down in that armchair, Doctor, and give us your best attention."

A slow and nervous step, which had been heard upon the stairs and in the passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there was a soft tap.

"Come in!" said Holmes.

A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet in height. He wore an ordinary traveling-suit, of a quality which contrasted strongly with that of the notepaper we had just examined. However, his appearance was in all other respects remarkable. He wore an elaborate beard and goatee of a style which had not come into fashion in England, and his eyes were a peculiarly vivid shade of view. He had grown stout, but his features must once have been handsome.

"Good evening," he said in English, but it was obvious that exhausted his knowledge of the language. "I am very glad to see you here," he said, reverting to his mother tongue. "Did you receive my note?"

"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?"

"Danke schön, Mr. Holmes." The man remained standing, as though he still had not made up his mind whether to remain. He was evidently in the very greatest distress. "You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bavarian 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?"

I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me back into my chair. "You may say before this gentleman anything which you may say to me," he told the count.

"I trust your discretion," said the nobleman. "Now, I must begin by binding you both to absolute secrecy."

"I promise," said Holmes.

"And I."

"I confess that the title by which I have just called myself is not exactly my own."

"I was aware of it," said Holmes dryly.

"The circumstances I have come to consult you about are of great delicacy. The matter implicates the House of Wittelsbach, kings of Bavaria."

"I was also aware of that," murmured Holmes, settling himself down in his armchair. He looked impatiently at his nervous, towering client. "If your Majesty would condescend to state your case," he remarked, "I should be better able to advise you."

The man made as though to run for the door, but instead turned and began pacing up and down the room in uncontrollable agitation. "You are right," he cried at last, pausing in front of Holmes. "I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it?"

"Why, indeed?" murmured Holmes. "Your Majesty had not spoken before I was aware that I was addressing Ludwig Otto Friedrich Wilhelm, King of Bavaria."

Our visitor sank into a chair and passed his hands over his finely molded forehead. "The matter I wish to consult you about is so delicate that I could not confide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I have come incognito from my home, Neuschwanstein Castle, for the purpose of consulting you."

"Then, pray consult," said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more.

"Mr. Holmes, I fear someone is plotting to murder me."