a clean breast and circumstantially given me
the details of some great crime or evil that they had committed. I never
experienced any difficulty, or felt the least compunction in granting
them plenary absolution; I never betrayed them to the police, for I knew
that of the crime confessed they were as guiltless as myself. Of course
there is a good deal of pathos about their actions, but I always felt a
glow of pleasure when I could send poor deluded people away comforted;
and I am sure that they really believed me when I told them that under
no circumstances would I betray their confidence, or acquaint the police
without first consulting them. I never had any difficulty in keeping my
promise, though sometimes my friends would, after a long absence, remind
me of it.

But occasionally one of my friends has compelled me to seek the advice
of an astute detective, for very clever rogues, real and dangerous
criminals, have been my companions and have boasted of my friendship,
whilst pursuing a deplorably criminal course. But I never had the
slightest compunction with regard to them when I knew beyond doubt what
they were at. Friends and associates of criminals have more than once
waited on me for the purpose of enlisting my sympathy and help for one
of their colleagues who was about to be released from prison, and the
vagabonds have actually informed detectives that "Mr. Holmes was going
to take him in hand." What they really meant was, that they had taken
Mr. Holmes in hand for the purpose of lulling the just suspicions of the
police. One day not long ago a woman, expensively dressed and possessed
of a whole mass of flaxen hair, burst into my office. She was very
excited, spoke good English with an altogether exaggerated French
accent, and her action was altogether grotesque and stereotyped. She
informed me that she had that morning come from Paris to consult me.
When I inquired what she knew about me and how she got my address, she
said that a well-known journalist and a member of Parliament whom she
had met in Paris had advised her to consult with me about the future of
a man shortly to be discharged from prison. As during the whole of my
life I had not met or corresponded with the brilliant gentleman she
referred to, I felt doubtful, but kept silent. So on she went with her
story, first, however, offering me a sum of money for the benefit of as
consummate a villain as ever inhabited a prison cell.

I declined the money a