Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 254 The bewildered Londoners, the bewildered Conan Doyle
On June 15th, the latest issue of the mid-monthly edition of "Good Words" appeared as scheduled on the reading tables of major newsstands and gentlemen's clubs in London.

Unlike the usual simple and elegant covers, this issue's cover is visually striking:
A man's profile silhouette, wearing a deerstalker hat and a cloak, with a long pipe in his mouth, smoke rising and blurring his outline.

The silhouette seemed to lurk in the shadows, not only mysterious but also carrying a sense of hidden danger.

At the bottom of the cover is a line of striking capital letters: "THIS MAN—WHO IS HE?"
As always, this issue of "Good Words" covers a wide range of topics: commentary on the empire's overseas policies, introductions to new scientific discoveries, gossip and anecdotes from high society, as well as serialized romance novels and travel notes.

However, after flipping through the entire magazine, not a single article, story, or illustration matched the image of the mysterious man on the cover.

The editorial department left no editor's note or preview to explain the cover.

Readers were initially confused, but then became intensely curious.

In clubs, in cafes, at family breakfast tables, people were talking about it:
"Look at this, it's extremely strange! What is 'Good Words' up to?"

"He's dressed like a gamekeeper, but shouldn't he be carrying a hunting rifle?"

"Who is it? The protagonist of the new serialization? But there's nothing in there!"

"Maybe it's some important person? Or an advertisement for some new product?"

"I think it's just a gimmick to attract attention."

Regardless of the speculation, this enigmatic silhouette has successfully captured people's attention.

The newsstand owners noticed that this issue of "Good Words" was selling exceptionally fast.

Many people buy it and the first thing they do is look for information related to the cover. Disappointed, they become even more curious about the mysterious silhouette.

"Who is this man?" This quickly became a topic of conversation in London's social circles.

The suspense didn't last long, but the answer wasn't revealed either.

On June 30th, the second half of the month's issue of "Good Words" was published as scheduled.

This issue's cover is unsettling, even chilling:

A mottled, dirty brick wall, on which is a large word – "RACHE".

Each letter's stroke trembled, as if written with a thick paint, forming a downward "flowing" trace.

Similarly, the inside pages of this issue make no mention of the cover.

It's as if the editorial department simply threw two unrelated yet perplexing images at the readers.

This caused more than just curiosity; it caused a sensation to some extent.

"RACHE? What does that mean? A name? Rachel?"

"It's German! I remember that 'Rache' means 'revenge' in German!"

"Revenge?! God, this is terrible! What does this foreshadow?"

"Is it related to the man from last issue? Is it the words he wrote on the wall?"

What exactly is the purpose of "Good Words"?

The media sensed something unusual.

The Palmer Times, the Daily News, and even The Times couldn't help but mention the two strange covers of Good Words and speculate on their intentions.

Some believe this is a bold, almost sensationalist new marketing strategy for the news industry;

Some suggested that "Good Words" might have uncovered the inside story of a major news story and was building up public interest before releasing it.

Editor-in-Chief Norman McLeod sat in his office, listening to his assistant report on the market response, a satisfied smile on his face.

Lionel Sorel's "small publicity suggestion" in the letter is working perfectly. He is now full of confidence that "A Study in Scarlet" will begin serialization in July.

He even began to anticipate the excitement that would erupt when readers finally discovered the connection between the enigmatic cover and this brilliant detective novel.

What he needs to do now is to ensure the translation is flawless and to keep it strictly confidential.

With that in mind, Editor-in-Chief Norman McLeod shifted his obese body and decided to go to the translation office himself.

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Meanwhile, in Edinburgh, Scotland, Arthur Conan Doyle had just finished his medical school year exams and was enjoying his summer break.

Shortly after the start of his holiday, he received two letters, one from Paris, sent by Lionel.

The second letter was an invitation from the whaling ship "Hope," offering him the position of ship's doctor for three months, with a mission to reach as far as the Arctic.

It was a difficult choice, but an Arctic expedition was a rare experience with good rewards.

But Conan Doyle still made his decision—he replied to the letter declining the invitation from the Hope, packed a few simple bags, and boarded the train to London.

He wanted to go to London, to Baker Street, to see for himself the "stage prepared for Sherlock Holmes" that Lionel had mentioned in his letter.

After a night's journey, the train roared into Victoria Station, and the hustle and bustle of London rushed towards us.

Following the instructions in Lionel's letter, Conan Doyle hired a two-wheeled carriage and went directly to Baker Street.

The coachman ran back and forth on Baker Street for a while, looking somewhat confused: "Sir, are you sure it's 221B?"
The street numbers seem to stop at around 85; I haven't seen any higher numbers, let alone 221.

Conan Doyle was taken aback, and then realized the problem.

He quickly told the driver to stop, paid the fare, and then walked along Baker Street to look for the car.

He carefully checked the house numbers and, just as the coachman had said, Baker Street did not extend to number 221; the largest number was 85, and further north were other small streets and alleys.

Conan Doyle was puzzled: "What's going on? Did Lionel make a mistake?"

He recalled Lionel's words in his letter: "...I have arranged for an apartment at 21B Baker Street...which will also be your temporary lodging..."

Conan Doyle then realized that Lionel might not have made a mistake here.

After some inquiries and searching, Conan Doyle finally found a house with the address "21B" on Baker Street near Regent's Park.

This is a typical Georgian-style townhouse, brick structure, with a clean exterior and a dignified feel typical of the British middle class.

He took a deep breath, straightened his collar, and knocked on the door.

After a while, the door opened, and a kind-looking old woman appeared in the doorway.

She cautiously sized up the young man in front of her.

Conan Doyle tipped his hat in greeting: "Hello, madam, I am Arthur Conan Doyle..."

The old woman smiled and said, "So you are Mr. Doyle. You've finally arrived."

Conan Doyle was taken aback: "You've been waiting for me?"

The old woman breathed a sigh of relief: "An agent booked my house, saying you'll be staying here for a while. Please come in, please come in!"

Conan Doyle inwardly admired Lionel's meticulous arrangements, and as he entered, he asked, "Madam, may I ask your name...?"

The old woman gave a strange look: "Uh... my name is Mary... never mind, I can't mention that name."

When you live here, just call me Mrs. Hudson… someone pays me an extra £2 a month for that!”

Conan Doyle was bewildered. Wasn't "Mrs. Hudson" the name of Holmes' landlady in "A Study in Scarlet"?
What is Lionel trying to do?
(End of this chapter)