Phelps was happy to see us. He looked stronger today and managed to get up from his sofa and shake our hands.

“Any news?” he asked.

“Nothing yet,” said Holmes. “I’ve spoken to Forbes and your uncle and made some inquiries, which may yet bring results.”

“I hope so,” said Phelps. “You know, something strange happened last night. I had quite an adventure.” He tried to sound cheerful, but I saw fear in his eyes. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the target of a conspiracy. First the treaty, and now this. Yet I don’t have an enemy in the world.”

“Please tell us what happened,” I urged him.

Phelps sat back down on the sofa and began to tell us his story.

"Last night," Phelps began, "was my first night without a nurse in the room because I felt well enough not to need her. At around two in the morning, I woke up to a small noise. I lay there listening, thinking it was a mouse chewing on some wood. Then the noise got louder, and suddenly I heard a sharp metallic click from the window. I sat up, scared, because I realized the first noise was a blade being forced between the window sashes, and the second was a catch being pressed back.

"There was a pause for about ten minutes, as if the person was waiting to see if I had woken up. Then I heard the window slowly creak open. The tension was too much, and I jumped out of bed and flung open the shutters. A man was crouching there. I only saw him for a second because he disappeared quickly. Most of his face was covered by a cloak, but I saw something shiny in his hand, which looked like a knife.

"If I had been stronger, I would have chased after him. Instead, I could only ring the bell and shout for help. That quickly brought Joseph down, and he woke up the rest of the household. They found marks on the flower bed outside the window, but the weather has been dry, and they couldn't follow the intruder's trail across the grass. They did find some damage to the fence, where he might have broken in."

Phelps's story had an immediate effect on Sherlock Holmes. He jumped up from his chair and started pacing the room excitedly. "Are you strong enough to walk around the grounds with me?" he asked Phelps.

"Oh yes, I could use some fresh air."

"And I could too," said Annie.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Harrison," said Holmes. "You must stay right here."

Annie looked disappointed but sat back down. Her brother joined us, and the four of us went outside to walk around the garden.

"I wonder," Holmes pondered, "why the burglar picked your room, Mr. Phelps, for the break-in. The bigger windows in the drawing room and dining room would be easier to open, less likely to be occupied, and there's more to steal in those rooms."

We checked where the intruder might have climbed the fence. Holmes examined a broken wooden slat. "Do you think this happened last night? It looks old." He looked at the ground under the fence. "There are no marks of someone jumping down." Holmes stood up straight. "I don't think we can learn more here. Let's go back to the bedroom."

Phelps walked back slowly, leaning on Harrison's arm. Holmes, however, moved quickly across the lawn, and I struggled to keep up. As a result, we reached the open bedroom window before the others. "Miss Harrison," Holmes whispered urgently, "make sure to stay in this room all day. Don't go out for any reason. It's very important."

"Okay, if that's what you want," she said, surprised.

"When you go to bed, lock the door of this room from the outside and keep the key."

"But what about Percy?"

"He'll come to London with us. It's for his own safety. Promise you'll do this."

She nodded just as the other two arrived.

"Why are you sitting inside, Annie?" her brother exclaimed. "Come out into the sunshine."

"No, thanks, Joseph. I have a slight headache, and this room is pleasantly cool and calming."

"What's our next move, Mr. Holmes?" asked Phelps.

"This break-in is interesting, but we must focus on the main investigation," Holmes replied. "It would help me if you came to London with us."

"I'd be happy to," said Phelps. "I feel strong enough now. Maybe Joseph should come too, to look after me."

"That won't be necessary. Our friend Watson is a doctor, as you know. He'll take good care of you."

After lunch, the three of us headed to the station. On the platform, Holmes had one more surprise.

"I won't be joining you," he said as we got on the train. "I have some things to take care of here first. Watson, when you reach London, take Mr. Phelps to my home on Baker Street. I'll meet you there tomorrow for breakfast."

The train started moving, so Phelps and I didn't have time to ask Holmes about his surprising decision.

"I don't get why he's staying in Woking instead of continuing the investigation in London," Phelps said anxiously as we left the station.

"I understand your concern, Percy, but Holmes's methods, though unconventional, usually work," I tried to reassure him.

"Do you really trust him?" he asked.

"I've seen him solve some incredible puzzles," I replied.

I hoped that would calm him down, but throughout the journey and the rest of the day at the Baker Street apartment, Phelps remained on edge.

"I doubt he's ever faced such a challenging case before," he worried.

"Oh, Holmes has tackled much tougher cases than this one," I assured him.

"Watson, I wish I shared your confidence, but I fear this might be too much even for Mr. Holmes," Phelps sighed.

As night fell, I urged him to stop fretting and get some rest for the next day's events. Finally, he complied, though his troubled demeanor suggested sleep would not come easily.

Holmes arrived in a cab around eight o'clock the next morning. Phelps and I watched from the window as he stepped out, his left hand wrapped in a bandage, his expression somber and tired.

"He looks defeated," Phelps lamented, a sentiment I couldn't argue with.

"Are you injured, Holmes?" I inquired when he entered.

"Just a scratch," he replied, acknowledging us with a nod. "Your case is one of the toughest I've ever faced, Mr. Phelps."

"Will you tell us what happened?" Phelps asked.

"After breakfast. I need to eat before I can talk," Holmes replied.

Just then, Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock's landlady, wheeled in a trolley with coffee and three covered dishes.

"Mrs. Hudson, this looks delightful!" Holmes exclaimed, unveiling his dish of curried chicken. "What did you get, Watson?"

"Ham and eggs," I answered.

"Fantastic! And what about you, Mr. Phelps?"

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry," Phelps declined.

"Come now," Holmes insisted. "I'm quite curious."

"Very well," said Phelps. He lifted the cover and let out a scream. On the plate lay a roll of pale blue paper.

Percy Phelps gazed at the naval treaty for a moment. Then he began to dance around the room, hugging it to his chest and cheering with joy. Finally, he collapsed, exhausted, into an armchair.

"Sorry to surprise you like that," Holmes said with a smile, patting Phelps's shoulder. "As Watson can tell you, I always enjoy a bit of drama."

Phelps grabbed his hand and kissed it. "Thank you, sir!" he exclaimed. "You've saved my reputation."

"And mine," Holmes declared. "Failing in a case like this would have been dreadful."

"I don't want to interrupt your breakfast," said Phelps, "but I'm dying to know how you found it."

So, after enjoying his meal of curried chicken, Holmes sat down in an armchair and shared his story with us. "After leaving you at the station, I spent the day at an inn in a nearby village. In the evening, I made my way to Briar House. Wanting to avoid being seen, I climbed over the fence into the grounds and hid behind a bush, across from your bedroom window.

"From my hiding spot, I had a clear view of Miss Harrison sitting in the room, reading. At ten-fifteen, she got up, closed the shutters, and left. I heard her lock the door."

"Why did she lock it?" asked Phelps.

"Because I instructed her to. She followed my orders precisely. Without her cooperation, you wouldn't have the treaty now. I continued to wait and watch as the hours passed. It was a long wait, but around two in the morning, I saw a figure come out of the servant's door, and Joseph Harrison stepped into the moonlight."

"Joseph?" exclaimed Phelps.

Holmes nodded. "He sneaked over to your window and used a long-bladed knife to open it. Within minutes, he was inside the bedroom.

"Quietly, I crept closer to see what he was doing. I watched as he lit the candles on the mantelpiece, then lifted a loose floorboard near the door and took out the roll of paper. He put everything back, blew out the candles, climbed out of the window, and walked right into me.

"Your future brother-in-law reacted more violently than I expected, attacking me with his knife. I got a cut on my knuckles before I managed to subdue him. He had murder in his eyes, but he eventually handed over the treaty.

"I let Harrison go, but I sent all the details to Forbes. He may catch him, though it might be better for everyone if Harrison isn't caught. I doubt you, Mr. Phelps, or Lord Holdhurst want this affair to become public."

"Are you telling me the stolen treaty was in the room with me this whole time?" gasped Phelps.

"Indeed," replied Holmes.

"And Joseph, of all people, was the villain and thief?"

"Joseph Harrison may not be as respectable as you thought. I looked into his background and found he had significant gambling debts. He hoped to sell the treaty to restore his fortunes."

"My head is spinning," said Phelps. "When did you first suspect him?"

"From the moment you mentioned you were traveling home with him that night. I thought it likely Harrison would pick you up on his way to the station. He entered the office through the side door and went to your room after you left. Finding it empty, he saw the treaty on the desk when he rang the bell. He realized he had a valuable document in his hands and took it.

"On his return to Briar House, he hid the treaty under the floorboard in his room, planning to wait a few days before selling it to the French Embassy for a hefty sum. But everything changed when you returned.

"Harrison had to vacate his room for you, and after that, there were always at least two people in there, preventing him from retrieving his buried treasure.

"It must have been frustrating for him as he waited for nine weeks for an opportunity. It finally came two nights ago when you decided you were well enough to spend the night without a nurse. But his attempt to break in was thwarted by your alertness.

"I knew the treaty was hidden somewhere in your room, but I didn't want to search for it myself. I wanted the thief to lead me to it. So I took you to London and had Miss Harrison stay in the room all day to force him to break in at night. I made him think the coast was clear while I kept watch."

"Brilliant!" exclaimed Phelps, clapping his hands in delight. "I never doubted you for a moment, Mr. Holmes."

Hearing these words, I couldn't help but smile.

I'm happy to report that Percy Phelps regained his position at the Foreign Office, and his career flourished. In the autumn of 1889, Holmes and I attended his wedding to Annie Harrison. As for her brother Joseph, he disappeared overseas, and, as Sherlock Holmes predicted, the affair of the naval treaty remains unknown to the public to this day.