In less than a week, "The Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual" had become the talk of the town in London.
People were discussing the nursery rhyme and the fate of the characters from the book everywhere - in the streets, alleys, and even in the pubs.
If this continued, the position of the Holmes series might be threatened.
Doyle couldn't sit still any longer.
As soon as his train arrived in London, without taking any rest, he immediately hailed a cab and rushed to Stran Street.
His wife, Hopkins, muttered, "Aren't you being a bit too hasty?"
Doyle gave her a disdainful look, pulled back the carriage curtain, and let the voices of discussion from outside seep into the carriage.
"I'm dying without 'The Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual'. Oh, still two days until Thursday."
"Did you subscribe to 'The Scotsman' as well?"
"Of course."
"Do you think this mysterious author, Lu, could be Scottish? Hmm... now that you mention it, it seems quite possible. You all should know that Doctor Doyle is from Edinburgh."
...
With a swish, Doyle drew the curtain.
Being mentioned in the same breath as Lu made him feel a bit uncomfortable, like swallowing a fly and feeling it buzzing around in his mouth, unharmed.
He shrugged irritably. "Did you hear that?"
Hopkins, unaware of the tension between her husband and Lu, could only try to comfort him. "Don't think too much about it. Remember, England is Holmes's territory."
That sentence actually sounded a bit awkward.
Doyle would have preferred to hear, "England is Arthur Conan Doyle's territory."
He sighed helplessly and closed his eyes to rest.
Hopkins unknowingly patted the horse's leg with a flattery, and seeing her husband resting, she didn't want to say anything more.
The carriage fell into silence.
The carriage raced towards Stran Street.
Stran Street had been mentioned in "A Study in Scarlet" and was where Watson and Holmes lived before they moved in together.
It was located in the center of London, next to Charing Cross Road, and the southwest corner was Buckingham Palace.
In comparison, Stran Street was like a core street within the first ring of the capital, and it was no wonder Watson couldn't stand the rent and had to find a roommate.
Soon, the carriage stopped in front of a magazine office.
The signboard read "Strand Magazine."
In fact, it should be translated as "Stran Magazine," but "strand" means "riverside," so many countries translate it as "Seaside Magazine," so many later translators just followed suit.
Anyway, it's a proper noun, so it doesn't matter.
Doyle got off the carriage, tipped the driver, and asked him to help with the luggage, then knocked on the door of the magazine office.
"Herbert, I know you're not gone yet."
Herbert Greenhough Smith was the editor of the Strand Magazine.
After a while, the door opened.
A tall white man stood at the door, pushing up his glasses with his fingers, staring at Doyle with wide eyes, as if he were taking an X-ray of Doyle.
"My God! Look who's here!"
With that, the two couldn't help but embrace.
Smith patted Doyle's shoulder and said, "Aren't you supposed to stay in Edinburgh for a while? Why are you back so soon?"
He glanced at Hopkins, nodding politely, "This journey must not have been easy. I heard that some factories in Paris have started manufacturing automobiles that don't need hand-cranking. We'll be able to use them in a few years, and they're bound to be more comfortable than carriages."
The coachman muttered, "The Oz Mobile car can't run faster than my horse."
Smith didn't take offense and laughed heartily.
Doyle felt helpless.
"Let's stop the nonsense. I'm here to see you for a reason."
Smith also became serious and led the two into the office.
The layout of the magazine office was very simple, with only two editorial rooms and the core office area in the middle. Tables, chairs, and narrow aisles were filled with papers and magazines.
Smith moved a chair, "Have a seat."
Doyle sat down and then took out a stack of papers from his bag.
The top of it was printed with small letters:
Chapter One, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
Obviously, this was the chapter title of a novel.
Smith was surprised. "Arthur, weren't you... aren't you... weren't you supposed to...?"
He stammered and couldn't even speak properly.
Doyle didn't pick up on the pen down situation and said, "£5,000, the price we agreed on before."
Smith's brow furrowed.
Doyle couldn't be short on money, considering his previous royalties were far from spent, and besides, he was an ophthalmologist by profession with a decent income.
Curious, Smith asked, "What's going on exactly?"
This question irked Doyle a bit, and he retorted, "Don't you want to read my manuscript?"
His attitude was peculiar.
Smith, feeling cautious, picked up the manuscript. It was a novella titled "The Hound of the Baskervilles."
After scanning it, Smith felt the writing style was still very much Doyle's, with no significant differences in wording and sentence structure, only a slight change in the storytelling approach.
After some thought, he said, "It's quite interesting, but the concept feels oddly familiar."
This was actually a probing tactic.
Unexpectedly, Doyle openly admitted, "This 'Hound of the Baskervilles' was influenced and inspired by 'The Adventure of the West End' series, so it's natural for you to find it familiar."
In fact, "The Hound of the Baskervilles" had been considered by many to be a plagiarism of Doyle's work, and some even speculated that he had hired the editor of the "Daily Weekly" to ghostwrite it, and that editor happened to be the author of "The Adventure of the West End."
There were indeed similarities between the two books.
Smith fell silent for a moment and asked, "Have you settled with the author of 'The Adventure of the West End'?"
Doyle's expression remained unchanged.
"I've already said it earlier, it's 'influence and inspiration,' not plagiarism. What's the point of settling with the author?"
His response was quite artful.
Smith took it as Doyle having settled the matter.
For an editor, the development of the magazine should take precedence, and the truth behind it was completely irrelevant.
However, Doyle's urgency in submitting the manuscript still puzzled him.
He lowered his head in thought.
Suddenly, a novel flashed through his mind—
"The Adventure of the Empty House."
Smith instantly understood the connection and looked at Doyle as if he had seen through everything.
But as gentlemen in Britain, there was no need to dig deeper into matters.
He smiled faintly and redirected the conversation to the content of the novel: "Bringing back Holmes through memoirs is a good choice. If sales remain strong, we might as well officially resurrect him."
In fact, that's exactly what Doyle did.
"The Hound of the Baskervilles" began serialization in August 1901, and the first installment of "The Return of Sherlock Holmes," "The Adventure of the Empty House," was published in January 1903.
However, Doyle didn't anticipate that like a butterfly flapping its wings, Lu Shi's "And Then There Were None" would force Holmes to climb out from under the Reichenbach Falls even earlier.
Smith suddenly clapped his hands.
"Okay, as agreed before, £5,000."
The publication was settled.
Doyle couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, feeling confident.
Lu Shi was a Chinese man with limited English writing skills. "And Then There Were None" was unlikely to maintain a high standard.
Furthermore, "The Scottish People" and "The Manchester Guardian" just wanted to exploit Lu Shi's identity. If the novel went awry, he would surely be abandoned, like a clown.
"The Times" and "The Daily Telegraph," supporters of the Conservative Party, would also take the opportunity to criticize: "Look, this is a Chinese man! A monkey picking up a pen to imitate humans writing, but ultimately just a monkey with a crown, all show and no substance."
Since Chinese people are considered monkeys, colonial wars against China are considered just:
Bringing civilization to the barbarians, how could that be unjust?
Similarly,
The Opium Wars were just,
The Anglo-Afghan War was just,
The Anglo-Mysore War was just,
...
Doyle said, "Tomorrow I'm going to accept an interview with The Times, announcing Sherlock Holmes' return."
Obviously, this is to challenge "The Hound of Baskervilles" and the mysterious author Lu.
Smith saw it with pleasure,
If it can boost sales, why oppose it?
He leisurely crossed his legs and said, "I'm looking forward to it."
Doyle didn't catch the insinuation in Smith's tone and said to himself, "Don't worry, I'm good at handling interviews."
At this moment, he only had one thing in mind:
As long as Sherlock Holmes launches an attack, everything will be fine.