The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 194 New Detective Case (16)
"Then she selected two of the same pistols from the arms room at the house, kept one for herself, and stuffed the other in Miss Dunbar's wardrobe after she had discharged a cartridge that morning, and put it in the woods for a while. Guns do not attract attention. Then she came to the bridge and devised this extremely ingenious method of destroying weapons. When Miss Dunbar came to the appointment, she poured out her hatred for her with the last strength, and waited for Dunbar After walking away she carried out this cruel plan. Now every link is clear and the chain is complete. The newspapers may ask why they didn't go to the lake to salvage in the first place, but it's always easy to say nice words afterwards, and say such a big Reed ponds are impossible to salvage, unless you know exactly what and where to salvage. Well, Watson, we have at last helped a remarkable woman, and a powerful man. It is not impossible for them to unite in the future. Perhaps, in time, the financial world will find out that Mr Gibson has probably learned something through his ordeal."

reptile

Mr. Sherlock Holmes has always urged me to publish the strange story about Professor Presbury, which would at least dispel the rumours, which, more than twenty years before, had shaken the University and reached the academic circles of London.But it was always prevented from publishing it, and the truth of the matter remained buried in my lead box full of the Holmes case.Only today have we been permitted to publish this case, which took place on the eve of Holmes' retirement.Even today, it is still necessary to be cautious and not talk too much about Meng Lang.

It was September, [-], and on a Sunday night I received a vague note in the usual Sherlock Holmes style:
Please come immediately if you have time - come if you don't have time.

SH．

Our relationship in his later years was quite special.He is a man of habits, he has some narrow and deep-rooted habits, and I have become one of his habits.As a habit, I am like his violin, his tobacco, his old pipe, his index, and other less honorable habits.Whenever he had a difficult case and needed a companion on whom he could rely more or less in courage, I came into play.But I have other uses besides that.I was like a whetstone to his brain.I can stimulate his mind.He was willing to organize his thoughts aloud in front of me.It’s also hard to say what he said, he just said it to me, and it’s also feasible to say it to the wall, but anyway, once I develop the habit of speaking to me, my expression and the exclamation words I issued will reflect on him. Still somewhat helpful.If the constant slowness of my mind sometimes irritated him, this impatience made his inspirations burst out more cheerfully.Such was the little part I played in our friendship.

When I came to Baker Street, I saw him sitting on the sofa with his body curled up, his knees arched high, a pipe in his mouth, his brow furrowed deep in thought.It seemed he was struggling with a nerve-wracking problem.He pointed to the sofa where I used to sit, but never paid attention to me again.About half an hour later, he awoke suddenly from his meditation, and greeted me with his customary eccentric smile.

"I beg your pardon for my ecstasy, Watson," said he, "some very curious circumstances have been reported to me during the past twenty-four hours, which have led me to ponder some more general questions. I really Going to write a little paper on the use of dogs in detective work."

"However, Holmes, the subject has been dealt with before," said I. "There are hounds, police dogs—"

"Not that, Watson, of course everybody knows about that side of the problem. But there is a subtler side to it. You probably remember that case, the time you handled the Copper Beech case in your lurid way, I used to infer the criminal habits of the pompous and respectable father by observing the workings of the child's mind, you remember."

"Of course, I remember it very clearly."

"I think much the same about dogs. Dogs reflect the life of a family. Who has ever seen a happy dog ​​in a gloomy family, or a sad dog in a happy family? Cruel people have cruel dogs, dangerous A character must have a dangerous dog. A dog's emotions may also mirror a person's."

I can't help shaking my head. "This, I'm afraid it's a bit far-fetched." I said.

He had just refilled his pipe, and sat down again, ignoring my opinion.

"The theory I just mentioned has a lot to do with the problem I'm currently researching in terms of implementation. It's a mess, and I'm trying to figure it out. One clue might be: why Professor Presbury's Will the wolf dog Roy bite him?"

I leaned back in my chair disappointed.Is it because of such a boring little problem that I was summoned from my busy work?Holmes glanced at me.

"Watson is the same!" he said. "You never learn that the greatest problems often depend on the most trifling things. But isn't this queer even on the face of it? You have heard Presbury, a well-known professor of physiology at the University of Cambridge, is such an old scholar with great prestige, why does his beloved wolf dog bite him again and again? What do you think of this problem?"

"The dog is sick."

"That's also possible. But the dog doesn't bite, and besides, it only bites its master on very special occasions, and it doesn't usually cause trouble. Very queer, very queer, Watson. The doorbell rang, and it seemed that young Bernard Mr. Te came a little earlier than the appointed time. I would have liked to have spoken to you a little longer before he came."

There was quick footsteps on the stairs, quick knocking at the door, and then the new client entered.He was a slender, handsome young man of about thirty, well-dressed and well-dressed, with a scholarly demeanor rather than a social pretension.He shook hands with Holmes, as if surprised by my presence.

"Mr. Holmes, my matter is a very sensitive matter," he said. "Please consider that my personal and professional relationship with the professor is very close. I really have no reason to tell my situation in front of a third party. .”

"Don't worry, Mr. Burnett. Dr. Watson is the most prudent of men, and to be honest, I may well need an assistant in this case."

"Well, take it as you please. Please don't mind my prudence."

"Watson, Mr. Burnett is the assistant of the famous professor, lives in the professor's house, and is the fiancé of the professor's daughter. Of course, we understand that he has kept the secret out of loyalty to the professor. But he is loyal. The best way to do this is to take the necessary steps to clarify this bizarre mystery."

"I hope so too, Mr. Holmes. This is my only purpose. Does Dr. Watson know the basics?"

"I haven't had time to tell him just now."

"Then I'd better go over the situation first, and then explain the latest developments."

"Let me tell the story," said Holmes, "so as to test my basic facts. The Professor, Watson, is a well-known man in Europe. He has lived his life in the academy, and there has never been a trace of gossip. He was a widower with a daughter named Edith. He had a strong, decisive, almost combative character. But that was broken a few months ago.

"Then his life routine was broken. He is 61 years old, but he is engaged to his colleague, the daughter of anatomy professor Morphy. As I understand it, this engagement is not the sensible kind of elderly people. The marriage proposal was like a young man's frantic courtship, because he was very enthusiastic. The woman, Alice Morphey, was a girl with a good mind and body, so it is not surprising that the professor is infatuated with her. However, the professor My own relatives do not approve of this marriage."

"We really don't agree."

"Yes. Excessive, extreme, and contrary to common sense. But the professor is rich, and the girl's father has no objection. But the girl's opinion is different. She has several other suitors. These people are not very good in terms of property status. So desirable, but about her age. The girl doesn't seem to care about the professor's eccentricities, she likes him anyway. The only obstacle is age.

"At this moment, the professor's normal life was suddenly shrouded in a mystery. He did something unprecedented, that is, he left home and did not say where he was going. After two weeks, he returned exhausted. As for where he went Go, he didn't say a word, which is contrary to his usual candid personality. By chance, our client, Mr. Burnett, received a letter from a classmate in Prague, saying that he had the honor to meet the professor in Prague. But I couldn't talk to him. In this way, the relatives of the professor knew his whereabouts.

"Now let's talk about the key issues. Since the professor came back, he has undergone a strange change. He has become a sneaky person, and the acquaintances around him feel that he is no longer the old scholar who they respected before. There is a shadow covered his noble nature. His intellect was unaffected, his lectures were still brilliant. But there was always something new in him, something unexpected and ominous. His daughter was always Loving her father faithfully, she tried many times to return to the close relationship of father and daughter, trying to break the mask of fatherhood. And you, Mr. Burnett, did the same - but everything went wrong. In vain. Now, Mr. Burnett, please speak to yourself about the letter."

"Please understand, Dr. Watson, that the Professor has never had any secrets from me, and that I should have been no more credited if I had been his son or brother. As his assistant and secretary, I dealt with all his correspondence. , generally split the letters and classify them according to their content. But since this mysterious trip, he will not allow me to do so. He reminded me that any letter with a cross under a postage stamp sent from London is Please put it aside and let him open it for himself. Afterwards, I received a few letters with the postmark of the East End of London. The words on the envelopes were written by uneducated people. Crooked. If the professor wrote a reply, I didn't handle his reply, nor did he put the reply in our mail box."

"And the case of the locket," added Holmes.

"Yes, the little box. When the professor came back from his travels, he brought back a little wooden box. This is the only thing that shows that he had traveled to the Continent. It was a beautifully carved wooden box, which is generally believed to be a German handicraft. He put The wooden box is in the tool cabinet. Once I was looking for an intubation tube, and I accidentally picked up this box to look at it. Unexpectedly, when the professor found it, he was furious and reprimanded me with very savage words, but I was just out of ordinary curiosity Well. It was the first time anything like this had happened, and my pride was bruised. I tried to explain that I had just picked up the box by accident, and I felt him staring at me all that night, and he was wrong about it. Broken hearted." At this point, Mr. Burnett took a small diary from his pocket. "This happened on July [-]," he added.

"You are an ideal witness," said Holmes. "These dates you have memorized may be of use to me."

"The systematic approach is also one of the things I learned from this famous teacher. Since I discovered his abnormal behavior, I have felt the responsibility to study his medical records. So, I wrote it down here, that is, on July [-]nd On this day, Roy bit him as he walked from the study to the hall. Later, on July [-], a similar incident occurred. I noted the same incident on July [-]. Later We had to put Roy in the stables. Roy is a good dog. I don't know if it's going to tire you."

Burnett's tone was not very cheerful, for Holmes was evidently alone in his thoughts, not listening to him.Holmes sullenly stared dreamily at the ceiling.Later, he tried to recover.

"A queer thing, a queer thing!" he murmured. "I haven't heard of such a thing, Mr. Burnett. We've pretty much stated the original situation, haven't we? What you said just now There are new developments."

Speaking of this, the straightforward and lively face of the guest suddenly darkened, because he remembered the abominable thing. "What I am about to tell happened the night before," he said. "About two o'clock in the night, I awoke and was lying in bed when I heard a muffled noise moving down the passage. I Open the door and look out. The professor lives at the other end of the corridor--"

"The date is—" broke in Holmes.

The guest showed obvious impatience with this irrelevant question.

"As I said just now, it was the night before yesterday, which is September [-]rd."

Holmes nodded and smiled.

"Go on, please," he said.

"He lived at the other end of the corridor, and had to pass my door to get to the stairs. What I saw that day was horrific, Mr. Holmes. I don't think I have any weaker nerves, but I was terrified by what I saw." The whole corridor was dark, only a light came through a window in the middle. I saw something moving from the other side of the corridor. It was a dark thing crawling on the ground. It suddenly crawled to a bright place, but when I saw it It's the professor. He's crawling, Mr. Holmes, crawling! He's crawling not on his knees and hands, but on his feet and hands, with his head hanging down. But he looks very relaxed. I was so frightened and confused that I didn't go up to him until he crawled to my door, and I asked him if I would help him up. But he didn't appreciate it. Instead, he cursed at me angrily, jumped up from the ground, and went straight to the ground. I went upstairs. I waited for about an hour, but he didn't come back. He didn't come back to the house until about dawn."

"What do you think, Watson?" Holmes asked me, in the tone of a pathologist, taking a rare case.

"It may be rheumatic low back pain. I have seen a severe patient walk like this, and it is more disturbing than anything else, and it is easy to lose your temper."

"You are very good, Watson! You are always reasonable and down-to-earth. But the rheumatic lumbago doesn't make sense, because he sprang to his feet immediately."

"He's in great shape," Burnett said. "Honestly, I haven't seen him as good as he is in all these years. But these things happen. It's not a case that you can go to an officer to solve, And we were really at a loss, what to do, and we had a vague sense of impending disaster. Edith, that is Miss Presbury, and I felt that we couldn't wait any longer."

"It is indeed a most curious and thought-provoking case. What do you think, Watson?"

"From a doctor's point of view," I said, "I feel that this is a case that should be handled by a psychiatrist. The old professor's cranial nerves were stimulated by love. He traveled to foreign countries in order to relieve his love." Net. His letters and wooden boxes may be related to other private matters-such as loans, or stock securities, are placed in the box."

"Could it be that the wolfhound objected to his stock exchange? No, Watson, there are articles in it. At present, I can only suggest—"

No one would know of Holmes' reminder, for the door was suddenly opened and a young lady was ushered into the room.Burnet jumped to his feet, ran over with his arms outstretched, and took the hand she had also extended.

"Edith, my dear! Is there anything wrong?"

"I feel I must come to you, Jack, and I am frightened! I dare not be there alone."

"Mr. Holmes, this is the lady I was speaking of, my fiancée."

"Well, sir, isn't that what we were going to come to just now?" said Holmes, laughing. "Miss Presbury, you probably want to tell us that there is a new development in the matter?"

Our new guest, a pretty girl of the traditional English type, greeted Holmes with a smile and sat down beside Burnett.

"I found that Mr. Burnett was not at the hotel, and I thought he might be here. Of course he had already told me that he wanted your help. Mr. Holmes, can you help my poor father?"

"There is hope, Miss Presbury, but the case is not clear enough. Perhaps the new circumstances you bring will shed some light."

"It happened last night, Mr. Holmes. He was acting strangely all day yesterday. I believe there are times when he doesn't remember what he has done. He seems to be dreaming. Yesterday was like that. He didn't Like my father. His shell is the same, but it's not really him."

"Please tell me what happened yesterday."

"I was woken in the night by the barking of the dog. Poor Roy, he is locked in the stable now. I always go to bed with the door locked, Mr. Jack--Burnet will tell you, We all have a sense of foreboding. My bedroom is upstairs. It so happened that last night my curtains were open and there was a nice moonlight outside. I was lying in bed staring at the white window and listening to the dogs. Barking, suddenly saw my father's face looking at me from the window. I almost fainted from fright. His face was pressed against the glass, and one hand was raised up, as if holding the window frame. If the window was opened by him, I would be crazy No. It's not a hallucination, Mr. Holmes, it's not a hallucination, I'm sure. For about 20 seconds, we just stared at each other like that. At that time, I was so frightened that I was paralyzed and couldn't move, until his face quickly disappeared. .I lay in bed, in a cold sweat, till morning. He was rude at breakfast, and made no mention of what happened during the night. I didn't say anything, but I lied and came into town to come to you."

Holmes seemed very surprised by the young lady's account.

(End of this chapter)