Sherlock Holmes Complete Works 1

Chapter 31 Four Signatures 9
I drove Miss Morstein home in the carriage which the police had brought.She is an angelic woman.In times of crisis, she will show a calm demeanor by the side of those who are more vulnerable than her.When I went to fetch her home, I found her in high spirits, calmly accompanying the frightened housekeeper.But after sitting in the carriage and experiencing so many adventures and bizarre experiences this night, she could no longer bear the pain in her heart, and she languished at first, and then began to sob.She scolded me afterwards, saying that I was so cold and heartless.In fact, how did she know how intense the fierce struggle in my heart was at that time, and how I suppressed my pain forcibly.When we stood in the yard holding hands and shoulder to shoulder, my sympathy and love for her overflowed.Although I am well-versed in the world, if I had not encountered today's encounter, it would be difficult for me to understand her gentle and brave nature.But I didn't make love to her publicly at the time.For two concerns made it difficult for me to speak.One is that she is in danger, lonely and helpless, if she proposes to her rashly at this time, it will be taking advantage of her danger; if Holmes really solves the case, she will get a batch of treasures, Become a rich lady.And I, a doctor with only a half salary, took advantage of the convenience of being close to her to propose to her. Would she suspect that I was just a vulgar gold digger?I don't want to give her such a bad impression.These treasures of Agra stood between me and her like an insurmountable barrier.

We got to Cecil?It was nearly two o'clock at Mrs. Forrester's house.The servants had already fallen asleep, but Mrs. Forrester stayed awake and waited for Miss Morstan to come back. She was very worried about Miss Morstan's strange letter.She herself opened the door for us.It gave me great joy to see her, a well-mannered middle-aged woman, with her loving arms about Miss Morstan's waist, and her motherly whispers of comfort.Obviously, Miss Morstan is here not only as an employee, but also as a respected friend.After Miss Morstan's introduction, Mrs. Forrester sincerely invited me into the room to rest, and also asked me to tell about our adventure tonight.I had no choice but to explain to her that I had important matters tonight, and sincerely assured her that I would introduce the case to her in detail in the future.After I said goodbye to them and boarded the carriage, I couldn't help but glance back.The two dignified figures were still leaning against each other on the steps, and through the light from the stained glass, the half-open door, the barometer on the wall, and the polished banister could be seen faintly.It is a relief to me to see such a peaceful picture of an English home in this anxious and dreary time.

Thinking of everything that happened today, I feel more and more that the prospect of solving the case is slim.As the carriage passed through the silent street under the dim street lights, I recalled this series of abnormal events again.The basic facts are now fully understood: the death of Captain Morstein, the jewelry sent, the advertisement in the newspaper, and the letter received by Miss Morstein, but this series of real events leads us to a more mysterious place. The situation to be tested: Indian treasures, the strange hand-painted drawings in the suitcase of Captain Mostan, the strange appearance of Major Sholto when he was dying, the rediscovery of treasures and the immediate killing of the discoverers, all kinds of leftovers left by criminals Tracks, footprints, strange murder weapon, a piece of paper with the same handwriting as that left on Captain Morstein's chart.All this is so intertwined that only a man as gifted as my partner Holmes could have unraveled it.

Pitchin Lane, at the end of Lambeth, is a row of dilapidated two-story stone and brick houses.I knocked on the door of number three for a long time, and a candle was lit upstairs behind the shutters, and a face appeared in the window.

The exposed face spoke: "Go away, drunk man, if you keep shouting so loudly, I'll let the dogs bite you."

I said, "Just let a dog out. I'm here for the dog."

The voice shouted again: "Go away! I have a rag here, if you don't go away, I will throw it on your head!"

I yelled, "But all I want is a dog."

"Stop rambling, stand back, or I'll throw the hammer on the count of three."

So I hastened to say: "Mr. Sherlock Holmes..." My companion's name was powerful, and the window was closed and the door opened before I could finish my sentence.Old Sherman was a tall, slender man with a stooped back, blue veins on his neck, and blue light glasses on his nose.

He said: "I always welcome the friends of Mr. Holmes. Please come inside, sir. Be careful, that badger bites." At this moment a pair of red-eyed weasels poked their heads out of the cage, and he hastened to say: "Don't be naughty, don't catch this gentleman. Don't be afraid. This lizard has no fangs. It is placed here to make it eat beetles. I often have naughty children making noise here. I think you... , pardon the impoliteness just now. By the way, what does Mr. Sherlock Holmes want?"

"He wants to lend you a dog."

"Then it must be Toby."

"Yes, that's it."

"Toby's in the third column from the left." Sherman held up the wax to lead the way, leading us past the strange animals we'd collected.In the flickering candlelight, I felt many pairs of eyes staring at us all around.Our actions awakened the sleeping wild birds overhead, lazily shifting their talons.

Toby was an unremarkable mixed-breed dog with long hair hanging over his ears, a patchwork of yellow and white, who wobbled as he walked.It trusted me with a piece of candy, and I got into the car, and we returned to Sakuranuma Villa just after three o'clock.The gatekeeper, Mike Murdo, and Mr. Sholto were both taken away as suspects, leaving two policemen to guard the gate.As soon as I mentioned the detective's name, they let me go.

Holmes was standing on the steps waiting for me with his hands in his pockets and his pipe in his mouth.

He said: "Bring him, what a dog. I had a great quarrel with Ethelney Jones after you left, and now the doorman, the butler and the servants have all been taken by him, and taken too." We lost our friends, and there was only one sheriff left. Now, in this yard, it's basically ours." We tied the dog to the foot of the table by the gate, and went upstairs.The dead man was covered with a sheet, the sheriff reclined in a corner, but otherwise the room remained the same.

Holmes said: "Sheriff, please borrow your bull's-eye lamp, this piece of cardboard, please help me tie it around my neck. Well, thank you. Now, Watson, when I take off my shoes and socks, you can take it with you." Go down. I'm about to show my ability to fly over walls. Dip my towel in creosote, yes, just dip it in. Come with me to the attic."

We climbed into the attic through the opening, and Holmes again looked closely at the footprints."Looking closely at the footprints, is there anything particularly noteworthy for you?" he said.

I said, "Looks like a child's footprint, but maybe a very short woman."

"What about other than that?"

"The rest are almost the same as ordinary footprints."

"Definitely different. Look at a right footprint in the dust. Now I've made a bare footprint of mine beside it. See the difference."

"In your footprint, the toes are all close together, but in this footprint the toes are separated."

"Exactly. Remember that. Now, please, go over to the window and smell the frame. I'm standing here with this handkerchief."

At his request, I went to sniff the window frame, and suddenly I smelled a pungent tar smell.

"This is where he walked before leaving, now please go downstairs and let Toby go, wait for me to come down."

When I ran down to the yard, Holmes was already on the roof.He had a lamp hanging on his chest, crawling slowly along the roof like a giant firefly, and when he got behind the chimney, I couldn't see him, then he appeared again, and then disappeared to the back up.When I took Toby around the back, I saw him sitting on the corner of the eaves.

"Is that you, Watson?" he cried.

"it's me."

"I'm right where the man went up. What's that black thing down there?"

"A bucket."

"Is there a ladder nearby?"

"No."

"That's great. It's too dangerous to go down here. But if he can climb up here, I can jump down here."

As he said that, he jumped lightly onto the wooden barrel, and then jumped to the ground again.

He said, putting on his boots and socks: "The man's track is not difficult to find. He has loosened all the tiles along the way. But in his haste, he has forgotten this thing."

The thing he showed me was a small bag woven of colorful grass stems, about the size of a cigarette box, with a few inconspicuous beads hanging around it.Inside the bag were six black thorns, one pointed at the other and round at the other, exactly the same as the ones on Basolonio Scholto's head.

He said: "This thing is dangerous, be careful, don't stab yourself, I'm so happy to find these things, because this may be all his weapons, so we don't have to suffer from this thing. Let the stinger come Then a fellow might as well be shot. Now, Watson, will you walk another six miles?"

"No problem." I replied.

"Can your legs take it?"

"fine."

He put a washcloth soaked in pomegranate oil on Toby's nose and said, "Toby, take a sniff. Good Toby, smell this." Experienced winemakers are tasting the wine.Holmes threw away the towel, tied a strong rope around the dog's neck, and led it under the barrel. Toby barked wildly, and at the same time smelled all over the ground, with his tail raised high, and ran forward following the smell. , we held the rope and followed closely behind.

The east is gradually turning white, and the distant scenery has gradually become clear.There was a big house alone behind us, with dim windows, bare walls, overgrown bushes and litter in the yard, which seemed to reflect the tragedy of last night.

(End of this chapter)