The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 175 The Last Greeting (18)
Holmes looked up.

"Did you delay your ship schedule?"

"I can catch the next trip."

"Oh, what a great deal of affection!"

"I told you just now that we are relatives."

"Yes, a distant relation of your mother's. Is your luggage on board?"

"A few pieces of luggage are on board, but most of the luggage is still in the hotel."

"Oh, but it doesn't have to be in the Plymouth Morning Paper, does it?"

"No, sir, I have a telegram."

"May I ask who sent it?"

A shadow flitted across the explorer's thin face.

"You can really get to the bottom of it, Mr. Holmes."

"This is my job."

Dr. Sterndale collected himself and regained his composure.

"I may as well tell you," said he, "that it was the Reverend Mr. Roundhay who telegraphed me to come back."

"Thank you," said Holmes. "I may answer your previous question in this way: I have not yet settled down on the case, but I can hope to draw some conclusions. It is too early to say more."

"If you already have someone you suspect, you won't be willing to tell me, will you?"

"No, it's hard to answer that."

"Then, I wasted my time. Good-bye." The famous doctor came out of our house, looking very disappointed. Five minutes later Holmes had his eyes on him.In the evening, Holmes came back with weary steps, his face was haggard.I know that his investigation must not have made much progress.He glanced at the newly received telegram before throwing it into the fireplace.

"The telegram came from a hotel in Plymouth, Watson," said he. "I learned the name of the hotel from the clergyman, and I telegraphed back to say that what Dr. Leon Sterndale said was true. It appears that he did spend last night at the hotel, and that he did put some of his luggage on board for Africa, while he came back here to find out. What do you think of that, Watson?"

"It's his stake."

"At stake, yes. There is a clue which we have not yet discovered which may lead us to untangle this mess. Brace yourselves, Watson, we still have all the material. Once we have it, we can immediately dispose of it." Difficulties are far behind us."

How long it will take Holmes' words to come true, and how strange and sinister our investigation is about to open up a new outlet, none of these have occurred to me.In the morning, I was shaving by the window when I heard hooves.I looked out, and saw a carriage come galloping from the other end, and stop at our door.Our friend, the pastor, jumped out of the car and ran down the garden path.Holmes was already dressed and went to meet him.

Our guests were speechless with excitement.Finally, breathlessly, he told his sad story.

"Mr. Holmes, we are possessed of the devil! My poor parish is possessed of the devil!" he cried. "Satan himself has wrought his spell! We are all in his clutches!"If it weren't for his pale face and terrified eyes, he would have been absolutely comical when he finally delivered the terrible news.

"Mr. Mortimer Tregennis died last night, having features exactly like his sister's."

Holmes suddenly stood up nervously.

"Can your carriage take us both?"

"of course can."

"We are not having breakfast, Watson. We will follow you, Mr. Roundhay. Quickly, before the scene is destroyed."

The lodger took two rooms in the Vicarage, one above and the other, both in a corner.Below is a large living room and above is a bedroom.Looking out from these two rooms, there is a baseball field stretching out to the window.We got there one step ahead of the doctors and the police, so the scene remained the same, completely untouched.It is a foggy morning in March, and I describe what we saw, which has left an impression which I will never get out of my mind.

The room was gloomy and stuffy.The servant who entered the room first pushed open the window, otherwise it was really unbearable. This may have something to do with a smoking lamp on a table in the middle of the room.The dead man was at the table, leaning back on the chair, with a thin beard standing on end, glasses pushed to his forehead, and a dark and thin face facing the window.Horror had twisted his face out of shape, as had his dead sister.His limbs were contorted, his fingers clenched, as if dying in a fit of extreme terror; he was fully dressed, but there were signs of haste in his dressing.It is understood that he woke up after falling asleep and died tragically in the early hours of the morning.

If you saw the instant change when Holmes entered the house where the tragedy took place, you would see the enthusiasm hidden under his calm appearance.He suddenly became tense and vigilant, his eyes sparkled, his expression was serious, and his limbs trembled with excitement.Now he went out on the lawn, now he slipped in through the window, now he looked around the room, and now he returned to the upstairs bedroom, like a hound jumping out of hiding.He took a quick look around the bedroom, then pushed open the window.It seemed to give him some new excitement, and he leaned out the window, cheering loudly.Then he rushed downstairs, slipped through the open window, lay down on the ground with his face on the grass, got up again, and went back into the house.He was full of energy, like a hunter on the trail of his prey.The lamp was a very ordinary one. He inspected it carefully and measured the size of the lamp panel.He used a magnifying glass to examine the mica baffles covering the top of the chimney; he scraped off the dust from the chimney-top shell, put it in an envelope, and kept it in his notebook.Finally, just as the doctor and the police appeared, he beckoned the pastor to come out on the grass with me.

"I am glad that my investigation has not been fruitless," he said. "I cannot stay and discuss the matter with the Inspector, but, Mr. Roundhay, please greet the inspector for me and draw his attention to the bedroom window." And the living room light, they both have problems, connect the two and you will almost know the answer. If the police want to know more about the situation, I will be happy to meet them at my residence. Watson, we will look elsewhere now Bar."

Maybe the police are dissatisfied with the private detective's intervention in the case, or the police have other channels.What is certain, though, is that nothing was heard from the police for the next two days.These two days, Holmes stayed in the cottage smoking and thinking.He spends more time walking alone in the village for hours, and he doesn't mention where he went when he came back.We did an experiment which gave me some insight into what he was investigating.He bought a lamp exactly like the one in Mortimer Tregennis' room.He filled the lamps with oil of the kind used in vicarages, and carefully recorded the time when the oil was exhausted.And another experiment was so excruciating that I will never forget it as long as I live.

"Do you remember, Watson," he said to me one afternoon, "that there is only one thing in common between these two seemingly unrelated cases that we have come across. A suffocating feeling. Mortimer Tregennis said the last time he went to his brother's house, the doctor collapsed on the chair as soon as he walked in. Do you remember? Now, I can explain this Doubt. That's it. You remember Mrs. Potter told us that she also passed out when she went into the house, and then opened the window. The second case, that is, Mortimer Tregennis himself died. , you remember, we came in with a stuffy feeling, though the servant had opened the window. I afterwards learned that the servant felt ill and went to bed. These circumstances, Watson, are very instructive, proving that two There is poisonous gas in the crime scene, and there are things burning in the two rooms where the crime happened: one is a fire, and the other is a lamp. It is necessary to burn the stove, but it is clear to light up the lamp and compare the fuel consumption Well, it’s already broad daylight, why do we need to light the lamps? The lighting, the stifling gas, and those unfortunate people, crazy crazy, dead dead. These things are related, it’s already very Clear."

"It looks like that."

"We can look at that first as a helpful hypothesis. Then, let's assume that something burned in both cases gave off a poisonous gas. Very well. In the first case, Tregennis At home, this thing was kept in the furnace. The windows were closed and the fire diffused the smoke up the chimney. In this way, the poisoning was not as serious as the second case, because in the room of the second case, there was no place to Disperse the smoke. It seems that it turned out to be so. In the first case, only the female died, perhaps because the female body is weaker; the other two males went mad. Either temporarily or permanently In the second case it was in full force. So it appears that the death was proved to be due to the poisonous gases produced by the combustion.

"After making a series of inferences in my head, I will of course look around in Mortimer Tregennis' room for any such remnants. The most obvious place is the mica cover of the oil lamp. Or the smoke shield. Sure enough, I found some powder on it, and a ring of unburned brown powder around the edge of the lamp. You saw it then, and I took some and put it in an envelope."

"Why only some, Holmes?"

"My dear Watson, I cannot interfere with the police. I leave them some evidence. The poison is still on the mica cover, and they will see it if they are careful. Now, Watson, light the lamp, but The window must be opened, lest two worthy citizens die prematurely. You will not be reluctant to take part in this experiment, sitting near the open window, in an armchair, will you? I think I know you. I sit Opposite you, you and I keep the same distance from the poison. The door is ajar, we can see each other, as long as there are no dangerous symptoms, we will carry out the experiment to the end. Understand? Okay, I will bring the powder Take it out of the envelope, and put it on the lighted lamp. That's it! Watson, let us sit down and see how the situation develops."

It didn't take long for the situation to arise.As soon as I sat down, I smelled a strong, musky, subtle but sickening smell.As soon as the first scent hits, my mind is out of control.There was a thick fog in front of my eyes, but I knew that this invisible smoke would evilly control and suppress people's rationality.Indistinct ghosts roamed the thick black smoke, each ghost heralding the emergence of a threat.A figure came to the door, and a cold terror seized me. I felt my hair stood on end, my eyes bulged, my mouth was open, my tongue was stiff, and my mind was in chaos. Something must be wrong.I wanted to shout, but I seemed to hear a hoarse cry from myself, which was far away from me, as if it was not from me.At this moment, I thought of running away, so I rushed out of the horrible smoke.I saw Holmes's face pale, dull and dead with horror.The sight immediately woke me up and gave me strength.I pushed back the chair and ran to hold Holmes back.The two of us staggered out of the room together and fell on the grass outside. After a while, we felt the bright sunlight piercing through the horrible smoke that had trapped us, and the smoke gradually dissipated from our hearts. Like the mist disappearing from the mountains and rivers, finally, we regained our calm and sanity.We sat up on the grass and wiped our cold, damp foreheads.The two looked at each other apprehensively, observing the traces of our adventure.

"In truth, Watson!" said Holmes at last, his voice still quivering, "I want to offer you an apology as well as my thanks. The experiment was controversial even to me, and to a friend It's even more inappropriate. I'm really, really sorry."

"You know," my heart was very excited, because I could deeply understand Holmes' heart at this moment, "I am very happy and honored to be able to help."

He quickly regained that good-humoured, tongue-in-cheek demeanor he had always had with those around him. "My dear Watson, it would take so little trouble to make the two of us mad," said he, "that it must have seemed to an honest observer that we were mad before we carried out such wild experiments. I confess, I I didn't expect it to have an effect so quickly, and it was so violent." He ran into the house and ran out again, holding the still burning lamp in his hand, and stretched his arms straight to keep the lamp away from him. Some.He threw the lamp into the bushes. "A change of air in the room. I suppose, Watson, you have not the slightest doubt that these tragedies have occurred?"

"Not at all."

"But the root cause has yet to be found. Let's discuss it in this gazebo. The hideous thing still seems to be stuck in my throat. We must admit that all leads point to Mortimer Tregennis. He He is the criminal in the first case, although he is the victim in the second case. First of all, we must remember that their family had conflicts and then reconciled. We all have No idea. When I think of Mortimer Tregennis, with his sly face and those little menacing eyes behind his glasses, I can't believe he's a kind man. No, he's not. Man. And, you remember, he mentioned something in the garden or something that distracted us from the real cause of the tragedy. He was trying to steer us in the wrong direction .Finally, if he hadn't thrown the powder into the fire as he was leaving the room, who else? It happened after he had left, and if anyone else had come in, the people in the room would surely have jumped from the table. Rise. Besides, people don't generally go out after ten o'clock in the evening in this peaceful Cornwall. We can therefore conclude that everything points to Mortimer Tregennis as a suspect."

"So, he committed suicide in fear of crime?"

"Well, Watson, on the face of it, it seems possible. A man who feels guilty of having caused such a calamity to his family would kill himself out of remorse. However, there are irrefutable reasons to overturn the This supposition. Fortunately, there is one man in England who knows all about it. I have arranged that we shall hear the truth from his own mouth this afternoon. Ah, he is here early! This way please, Leon S. Dr. Turdale. We have just performed a chemical experiment in the room, which is not suitable for receiving such an honored guest as you."

The garden door clicked, and the majestic figure of the tall African explorer emerged from the path.He turned and walked towards the gazebo where we were.

"Mr. Holmes. I received your letter an hour ago, and I am here at your invitation. Although I do not know what I am invited for."

"We may be able to get to the bottom of the whole truth here," said Holmes. "I am very grateful for your visit. I beg your pardon for the poor reception outside. My friend Watson and I are about to present a book called The Horror at Cornish." , we need fresh air right now. What I need to talk about may be closely related to you personally, so we'd better talk in a place where no one can overhear."

The explorer took out his cigar and looked at my companion with a livid face.

"I don't understand, sir," said he, "that what you want to talk about has anything to do with me?"

"The death of Mortimer Tregennis," said Holmes.

At this very moment, I wish I was fully armed.The ferocious face of Sterndale was flushed, his eyes were bulging, and the veins on his head were swollen.He clenched his fists and charged at my companion.Then he stopped again, trying to restrain himself, and the calmness of suppressing anger was even more disturbing.

"I have long associated with savages and am not bound by the law," said he, "so I consider myself to be the law. Please remember this, Mr. Holmes, for I do not wish to hurt you."

"And I didn't mean to hurt you, Dr. Sterndale. The truth is, I went to you instead of the police, despite all I knew."

Sterndale sat down, panting.He flinched.This may be the first time in his adventure career.There was something invisible about Holmes's calm demeanor.Our guest's hands are sometimes released and sometimes clenched, very anxious.

"What do you want?" he asked at last. "If you're trying to frighten me, Mr. Holmes, you've got the wrong one. Don't beat around the bush. What do you mean?"

"I tell you," said Holmes, "that I am telling you because I wish we could all be frank. My next course of action depends entirely on your defense."

"My defense?"

"Yes, sir."

"In defense of what?"

"Defense to the charge of murdering Mortimer Tregennis."

Sterndale wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. "Honestly, you're getting closer and closer," he said. "Has all your achievements come from the power of this bravado?"

"It is you, and not I, who are bluffing," said Holmes gravely. "Dr. Leon Sterndale, I shall give you a few facts which I have discovered as proof. As regards your return from Plymouth, Most of the money was shipped to Africa, and I just want to say that it makes me think first of all that one of the important factors in this drama is you yourself."

"I'm coming back..."

"I've heard your reasons for coming back. I don't think it's convincing or sufficient. That's not enough. You ask me who I suspect. I don't tell you. You go to the priest. You wait outside the priest's house." After a while, I finally went back to your residence."

"how do you know?"

"I'm right behind you."

"I found no one."

"Since I was following you, of course I couldn't let you see it. You were restless in the house, and you made a plan to carry out the next morning. You went out just after dawn. There was a pile of reddish pebbles at your door. Put it aside, you put a few grains in your pocket."

Sterndale was taken aback for a moment, and looked at Holmes in surprise.

(End of this chapter)