“Not yet.”
“If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or Russian Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?”
“I should,” said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry face.
“Since nearly ten weeks have elapsed, then, and nothing has been heard, it is not unfair to suppose that for some reason the treaty has not reached them.”
Lord Holdhurst shrugged his shoulders.
“We can hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the thief took the treaty in order to frame it and hang it up.”
“Perhaps he is waiting for a better price.”
“If he waits a little longer he will get no price at all. The treaty will cease to be secret in a few months.”
“That is most important,” said Holmes. “Of course, it is a possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden illness—”
“An attack of brain-fever, for example?” asked the statesman, flashing a swift glance at him.
“I did not say so,” said Holmes, imperturbably. “And now, Lord Holdhurst, we have already taken up too much of your valuable time, and we shall wish you good-day.”
“Every success to your investigation, be the criminal who it may,” answered the nobleman, as he bowed us out the door.
“He’s a fine fellow,” said Holmes, as we came out into Whitehall. “But he has a struggle to keep up his position. He is far from rich and has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his boots had been resoled. Now, Watson, I won’t detain you from your legitimate work any longer. I shall do nothing more to-day, unless I have an answer to my cab advertisement. But I should be extremely obliged to you if you would come down with me to Woking to-morrow, by the same train which we took yesterday.”