Dreams Read Free Page B

room, broken only by the ticking of the ormolu clock and whistling of the wind through the eaves. Finally Holmes spoke.
    "It can be nothing other than the Voorish Sign," he said.
    "The Voorish Sign?" Lady Fairclough repeated inquiringly.
    Holmes said, "Never mind. This becomes more interesting by the moment, and also more dangerous. Another question, if you please. Who was the presiding official at the wedding? He was, I would assume, a priest of the Church of England."
    "No." Lady Fairclough shook her head once again. "The official was neither a member of the Anglican clergy nor a he. The wedding was performed by a woman."
    I gasped in surprise, drawing still another sharp glance from Holmes.
    "She wore robes such as I have never seen," our guest resumed. "There were symbols, both astronomical and astrological, embroidered in silver thread and gold, green, blue, and red. There were other symbols totally unfamiliar to me, suggestive of strange geometries and odd shapes. The ceremony itself was conducted in a language I had never before heard, and I am something of a linguist, Mr. Holmes. I believe I detected a few words of Old Temple Egyptian, a phrase in Coptic Greek, and several suggestions of Sanskrit. Other words I did not recognize at all."
    Holmes nodded. I could see the excitement growing in his eyes, the excitement that I saw only when a fascinating challenge was presented to him.
    He asked, "What was this person's name?"
    "Her name," Lady Fairclough voiced through teeth clenched in anger, or perhaps in the effort to prevent their chattering with fear, "was Vladimira Petrovna Ludmilla Romanova. She claimed the title of Archbishop of the Wisdom Temple of the Dark Heavens."
    "Why—why," I exclaimed, "I've never heard of such a thing! This is sheer blasphemy!"
    "It is something far worse than blasphemy, Watson." Holmes leaped to his feet and paced rapidly back and forth. At one point he halted near our front window, being careful not to expose himself to the direct sight of anyone lurking below. He peered down into Baker Street, something I have seen him do many times in our years together. Then he did something I had not seen before. Drawing himself back still farther, he gazed upward. What he hoped to perceive in the darkened winter sky other than falling snowflakes, I could hardly imagine.
    "Lady Fairclough," he intoned at length, "you have been remarkably strong and courageous in your performance here this night. I will now ask Dr. Watson to see you to your hotel. You mentioned Claridge's, I believe. I will ask Dr. Watson to remain in your suite throughout the remainder of the night. I assure you, Lady Fairclough, that he is a person of impeccable character, and your virtue will in no way be compromised by his presence."
    "Even so, Holmes," I objected, "the lady's virtue is one thing, her reputation is another."
    The matter was resolved by Lady Fairclough herself. "Doctor, while I appreciate your concern, we are dealing with a most serious matter. I will accept the suspicious glances of prudes and the smirks of servants if I must. The lives of my husband and my brother are at stake."
    Unable to resist the lady's argument, I followed Holmes's directions and accompanied her to Claridge's. At his insistence I even went so far as to arm myself with my Enfield MK II revolver, which I tucked into the top of my woolen trousers. Holmes warned me, also, to permit no one save himself entry to Lady Fairclough's suite.
    Once my temporary charge had retired, I sat in a straight chair, prepared to pass the night in a game of solitaire. Lady Fairclough had donned camisole and hair net and climbed into her bed. I will admit that my cheeks burned, but I reminded myself that in my medical capacity I was accustomed to viewing patients in a disrobed condition, and could surely assume an avuncular role while keeping watch over this courageous lady.
    There was a loud rapping at the door. I jerked awake, realizing to my chagrin that I had