Sherlock Holmes Complete Works 2

Chapter 74 The Hound of the Baskervilles 13
The next morning, I called on Mrs. Laura Lyons.

When I got to Coombe Tracy, I had no trouble finding out where the lady was staying.A maid led me into the living room.A woman sitting at a typewriter asked me nonchalantly what I was here for.

I said, "I know your father."

She said: "My father and I have severed ties, so his friends have nothing to do with me. If it hadn't been for the late Sir Charles Baskerville and good people to help me, I would have starved to death on the street. Don't care about my life or death."

"I have come to you in connection with the late Sir Charles Baskerville."

The lady was stunned.

"You know him, don't you?"

The lady got angry, "What is your intention?"

"I want to avoid the spread of scandal."

Her face became even paler, "Okay! I'll answer all your questions."

"Has Sir Charles written with you?"

"I wrote him several letters to thank him for his help."

"When was it sent out?"

"I forgot."

"Have you seen him?"

"I saw him when he came to Coombe Tracy."

"But you seldom see him and you don't write to him often. Why does he care so much about you?"

She answered the question without hesitation: "Among the gentlemen who helped me was Mr. Staple Valley, and Sir Childs was an old friend, and through him Sir Childs knew about me."

I went on: "Have you ever written asking for a date with Sir Childs?"

Mrs. Lyons was angry.

"No."

"Did you not write to Sir Charles Baskerville on the day he died?" I pressed.

Her face turned dead gray.

I said to her: "Your memory is faulty, and I can recite a passage from your letter: "Please burn this letter anyway, and go to the gate at ten o'clock. "

"Is he also a hypocrite?"

"You are wrong to blame Sir Childs, but sometimes we can recognize a letter even if it is burned. Now you admit that you wrote this letter?"

"Yes, I did!" she exclaimed. "I admit that if I could see him, I would have a good chance of getting his help, so I wrote to ask to see him."

"But why did you make an appointment at that time?"

"Because he's going to London next day. He won't be back for some months, and I can't see him sooner for other reasons."

"But why should the date be set in the garden?"

"Can a woman go to a bachelor's house alone at ten o'clock in the evening?"

"Oh, what happened after you went?"

"I did not go."

"Mrs. Lyons, please be reasonable," I said to her.

"I didn't keep my appointment because an impromptu incident prevented me from seeing him."

"What's up?"

"Sorry, this is a private matter of mine."

"You have just admitted to having made an appointment with Sir Childs at the time and place of his death, and now you deny that you have made an appointment."

"This is true."

At last I got up and ended the visit, "Mrs. Lyons, if you are innocent, why did you deny at first that you had written to Sir Childs on that day?"

"Because I was terrified of being involved in a particularly wide-ranging, wide-ranging scandal."

"Then why did you ask Sir Childs to destroy the letter as soon as he had read it?"

"If you read that letter, you understand why I asked him to do that."

"I don't know the whole content of the letter!"

"But you quoted part of it."

"I have only quoted the postscript, the rest of the letter is illegible. Why did you ask Sir Charles Baskerville to burn that letter?"

"This is my personal business."

"Are you doing it for your honour?"

"I once got married in a hurry and I regretted it very much afterwards.

"My husband kept abusing me and said that if I would pay him a sum of money I would be set free. Sir Childs is generous and I think he will, after hearing what I have to say. Willing to help me out of trouble."

"Then why didn't you go that day?"

"Because I got other help."

"In that case, why didn't you write to him the next day explaining your absence?"

"I got news of his death from the papers the next morning."

There is nothing I can do about her.

Mr. Frankland was standing at the garden gate, and he saw me as I passed.

"Dr. Watson," he called to me, "come in and have a drink! I have something pleasant to tell you."

I followed Mr. Frankland into his dining room.

"Today is my happiest day," he said, laughing. "I've settled two cases. No one can break the law. There's a litigious man here. I've proved that there's a highway. Well right through the heart of old Midoton's garden. What do you think of the road, sir, not a hundred yards from his front door. The rights of the common people are sacrosanct. The Worthys used to go to the picnic grove, these daring folks who think property rights don't exist, they can just walk around and litter, Dr. Watson, I've won both cases. Ever since John? I haven't felt better since I brought Sir Morland to court for shooting casually in his poultry farm!"

"How on earth do you charge them?"

"Look at the record, sir—Frankland v. Morland High Court. I spent a hundred pounds on this case. It was a huge sum of money, but I won."

"So what do you get out of it?"

"Sir, I have gained nothing, not a penny. I have acted without regard to personal interest in doing these things, and have acted solely out of social responsibility. I am sure, for example, that Fernwo The people from the West family probably tied me into a straw man tonight, and then burned me in the fire. The last time they did that, the authorities did not give me proper protection measures after receiving my report. Frankland It won't take long for the court case against the Queen's Government to attract public attention. I warned the police that one day they would regret the way they treated me, and now my words are about to come true. You just wait and see .”

I asked, "How is this possible?"

The old man said proudly, "Because I could have told them something useful to them. But now, I won't help those nasty bastards. I want to keep them confused."

I didn't want to listen to his gossip, but now I wish I could listen to more.

I said, "It must be about a poaching case?"

"Aha, man, it's an important case! What's the matter with that madman in the moor? Do you know that?"

I was taken aback: "Do you mean you know where he is?"

"I don't know, but I can help the police catch that person. To catch a person, you must first find out the source of his food, and then you can catch him based on this clue."

I was so excited by his words that I said, "But how do you know he must be in the swamp?"

"Because I have personally seen the little boy who brought him food."

I'm worried about Barrymore, it's a horrible thing for such a fussy old man to have grabbed his pigtails.But what he said next made me breathe a sigh of relief.

"Every day I see him from the roof with binoculars to bring him food, and every day at the same time he walks down the same road to the criminals."

I'm lucky that I've refrained from seeming interested in everything about it.

"It seems to me that the little boy brought food to his father in the swamp."

Any disagreement with him would irritate the dogmatic old man.He looked at me viciously, his gray beard bristling.

"Really, sir!" he pointed to the moor. "Do you see that black hill? Ah, do you see that low hill covered with thorns? That's the most rocky part of the moor. Will there be shepherds staying there? Sir, you have no brains."

He told me more about the situation.

"Sir, I've seen that boy with his roll many times. Once a day, sometimes twice a day, I can-- wait a minute, Dr. Watson, what's on that hillside? Please help me Identify it carefully."

About a few miles away, a small black dot was moving.

Frankland ran up to the roof and said to me: "Sir! Use a telescope to see for yourself, and then judge what's going on."

The telescope was on the roof, and Frankland put his eyes on it and let out an exclamation of satisfaction.

"Doctor Watson, come here quickly, don't wait for him to pass the mountain!"

Really, a child with a small roll on his shoulders was trudging up the hill.As he climbed to the top, I saw the disheveled stranger.He raised his head and glanced around a few times, as if he was afraid that the child would be followed by someone, and then he disappeared over the mountain.

"Ha, look, am I right?"

"Of course, it looks like the kid is on a secret mission."

"I beg you to keep this secret for me. Do not tell anyone, Dr. Watson, do you know what I mean?"

"I see."

"I've been treated very rudely by those people. When the details of Frankland's suit against the Queen's Government come out, I daresay the whole country will be outraged. So I won't do the police a favor. Watson." Doctor, don't rush to go, come on, let's drink!"

I said good-bye to him and walked across the swamp towards the hill where the boy disappeared.

As I climbed to the top, the wilderness, the loneliness and the mission I felt was a little creepy.The child could not be found, there were some old ruined houses in a ravine below me, with a roof in the middle.After a while, I finally found his hiding place.

As I approached the hut, I walked slowly and cautiously, my nerves on edge.I felt for the revolver at my waist and walked quickly to the door.It's empty inside, where are they?

But there are many signs that this must be where that person lives.A tarpaulin was wrapped with several blankets and placed on the stone slab, and a pile of ashes was piled in a crude stone frame.There are some kitchen supplies and half a bucket of water next to it, and a pile of empty cans shows that the person has lived in this house for a long time.In the corner was a metal cup and a small half-bottle of wine.In the center of the hut was a large rock with a small cloth bag on it—the roll on the child's shoulder.Inside was a loaf of bread, an apricot and two tins of canned peaches.There is also a note underneath.It read: "Dr. Watson has been to Combe Tracey to see Mrs. Lyons."

Now that there is one report, there may be others.I searched in the house, but found nothing, neither sign nor evidence of the character and intentions of the people who dwelt in this strange place.Is he our enemy? Or our friend? I am determined to find out.

I sat in a dark corner of the hut, patiently waiting for the occupant of the house.

In the distance came the clacking of leather shoes on stones, and he was getting closer and closer to the house.I withdrew to the darkest part of the house and cocked the revolver with my hand in my pocket.A dark shadow appeared.

A familiar voice said to me: "My dear Watson, it is a lovely evening, and I think you will probably be much more pleasant out there than inside."

(End of this chapter)