Sherlock Holmes Detective Episode Adventure History (Part 2)

The Emerald Crown Case

　　One morning, I stood in front of the bulging window overlooking the street. I said, "Look, Holmes, there's a madman coming right here. It was sad that his family would let him run out alone. ”

　　My friend got up lazily from his armchair, put his hands in the pockets of his dressing gown, and looked out from behind me. It was a clear, clear February morning. The ground was also covered with a thick layer of snow that had fallen yesterday, shining in the winter sun. The snow in the center of Baker Street was rolled into a gray-brown band of wheels by passing vehicles, but the snow piled high on the sidewalks on both sides was still as white as it had just fallen. The gray sidewalk had been cleared, but it was still slippery. Therefore, the pedestrians on the road are much rarer than usual. In fact, there was no one else who walked from the direction of Metropolitan Station to this side except this lone gentleman. This gentleman's eccentric behavior caught my attention.

　　This man was about fifty years old, with a burly figure, a thick face, and a dignified appearance. His dress, though dull in color, was luxurious and fashionable, and he wore a large black dress, a glossy hat, a pair of elegant brown boots with leggings, and exquisitely cut trousers, pearl gray. However, his actions were ridiculous compared to his dignified clothing and appearance. For he was running with all his might, occasionally interspersed with small jumps, like a tired and sleepy man who was not accustomed to making his legs more burdensome and jumping. As he ran, his hands were spasmodically waving up and down, and his head was dangling back and forth, causing his face to twitch very unsightly.

　　"What happened to him?" I couldn't help but ask, "He's looking at the house numbers of these houses." ”

　　"I believe he came to us." Holmes rubbed his hands and said.

　　"Come here?"

　　"Yes, I think he came to ask for advice on something related to my profession, and I could see the signs. Ha! Didn't I just tell you? As we spoke, the man rushed to our door in a huff and pulled the bell throughout the house.

　　A moment later, he was already in our room, still panting, still gesturing, but his eyes were full of sorrow and disappointment. Seeing this, our smiles suddenly disappeared, and we were shocked and sympathetic to it. For a moment he could not speak, but just shook his body and grabbed his hair, like a man who had lost his mind. Then he suddenly jumped up and slammed his head against the wall, frightening the two of us to quickly grab him and drag him to the center of the room. Sherlock Holmes pressed him into an easy chair and sat down with him, clapping his hands gently and chatting with him in a very polite and reassuring tone.

　　"You came to me to tell me about you, didn't you?" He said, "You're tired of running in a hurry, please take a break, and when you're relieved, then I'll be happy to study any little questions you might have asked me." ”

　　The man sat for a minute or two, his chest heaving violently, trying to stabilize his emotions. Then he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, closed his mouth tightly, and turned his face to us.

　　He said, "You must think I'm crazy, right?" ”

　　"I think you're in a lot of trouble." Holmes replied.

　　"God knows, I'm in trouble! ...... This trouble came so suddenly, so horribly, that it was enough to make me lose my mind. I may suffer public shame, even though I have always been a temperamentally flawless person. Everyone has his own troubles, which are predestined, but these two things came to me together in such a terrible form, which simply made me six gods and no master. Moreover, the matter is not only related to me personally, if there is no solution to this terrible thing, then the most honorable people on the mainland may be affected. ”

　　"Please calm down, sir," said Holmes, "let us ascertain who you are and what has happened to you." ”

　　"My name," replied our guest, "you may be familiar with it, and I am Alexander Holder of Needle and Thread Street Holder of Stevenson Bank. ”

　　The name is indeed familiar to us, and he is the main partner of the second largest private bank in the city of London. What was it that would have brought a first-class citizen of London into such a pitiful situation? We waited with great curiosity for him to pick himself up again to state his own plight.

　　"I think time is precious," he said, "so when the Inspector of the Police Department suggested that I get your cooperation, I rushed here." I took the subway and hurriedly walked to Baker Street because the carriage was driving slowly in the snow. So I just couldn't catch my breath, because I rarely exercised. Now that I feel a little better, I try to tell you the facts as simply and plainly as possible.

　　"Of course, you all know very well that an accomplished bank must rely on being good at finding favorable investments for its money, but also on being able to increase the number of business contacts and depositors. One of the most profitable ways we invest our money is by lending money out as a loan with an absolutely reliable guarantee. We have made many such transactions over the years, and many famous aristocrats have borrowed large sums of money from us as collateral for their precious paintings, books or gold and silver tableware.

　　"Yesterday morning, I was in the bank office, and my clerk handed in a business card. I was shocked when I looked at the name on it, because it was no one else, his name, even for you, I could at best say that it was a household name in the whole world, one of the noblest and most honorable names in England. As soon as he came in, I was deeply flattered and was trying to express his kindness to me, but he spoke straight to the point, as if he were in a hurry to complete an unpleasant task.

　　"Mr. Holder,' he said, 'I've heard you're always on loans.'"

　　"If the collateral is valuable, the Bank handles this kind of business." I replied. "'I desperately need,'" he said, 'to get fifty thousand pounds at once.' Of course, I can borrow ten times more than this insignificant sum from my friend, but I prefer to do it as a serious matter, and I will do it myself. In my position, it is not difficult for you to understand that it is unwise to accept the favor of others casually. ”

　　"Can I ask, how long do you need this money?' I asked.

　　"I can recover a large sum of money due next Monday, and I am absolutely certain that I will be able to return the loan at that time, no matter how much interest it is, as long as you think it is reasonable." But the most important thing for me is to get the money in hand right away. ”

　　"I would have been happy to lend you my private money without having to negotiate further,' I said, 'if it weren't for the fact that it would have been a bit overburdening me to do so.'" On the other hand, if I handle this transaction in the name of the bank, then in order to treat my partner Pinmi fairly, even to you, I must insist that there should be all the business guarantees. ”

　　"I'd rather do it." He said as he lifted up a black square Moroccan leather box placed next to his seat, 'You've no doubt heard of the Emerald Crown, haven't you?' ”

　　"This is one of the most valuable public propertys of our empire." I say.

　　"A little bit good!' He opened the box, and on top of the soft flesh-colored velvet was what he called the magnificent, precious, brilliant treasure. He went on to say, 'Here are thirty-nine large emerald jades, and the gold carvings on them are of incalculable value.' The crown's lowest valuation would also be worth twice as much money as I was going to borrow. I'm ready to put it here with you as collateral. ”

　　I took the precious box in my hand, and with some confusion turned my eyes from the box to the noble client.

　　"Do you doubt its value?' he asked.

　　"Not at all. I'm just not sure..."

　　"As for whether it is appropriate for me to leave it here, you can rest assured. If I hadn't been absolutely sure I could redeem it in four days, I wouldn't have even dreamed of doing so. This is purely a formality. Is this mortgage enough? ”

　　"Enough is enough."

　　"You must understand, Mr. Holder, that from what I have heard about you, I have done so as a sufficient testimony to my trust in you. I count on you not only to be careful, but also to avoid any gossip that arises from it, and above all to take all possible precautions against the preservation of this crown, for if it is damaged in any way, it is self-evident that it will cause a great scandal in full view of all. Any damage to it is almost as severe as the entire loss, because these emerald jades are unique in the world. It is also impossible to replace them. Yet I now leave it with your infinite trust, and I will personally come to retrieve it on Monday morning. ”

　　"Seeing that my client was in a hurry to leave, I said nothing more, and immediately summoned the cashier and asked him to pay the client fifty bills with a face of a thousand pounds. When I was alone in the office again, looking at this expensive box on the table in front of me, I could not help but feel a little uneasy about the need to take on such a huge responsibility. Undoubtedly because it is a national treasure, if it is subjected to any accident, it must be followed by terrible public indignation. I'm already beginning to regret why I agreed to take care of it. However, it was too late to make any changes, so I locked it in my personal safe and continued to work.

　　"By the evening, I thought it would be too imprudent to put such a valuable thing in the office. Before that, the bank's safe had been pried, how could I see that my safe would not be pried? In case of such a thing, how terrible my situation would be! So I decided to carry the box with me for the next few days, coming and going, so that it would actually be inseparable from me for a moment. Having made this decision, I hired a rental carriage to take the treasure back to my home in Stritham.

　　I took it upstairs and locked it in the large cupboard in my living room, which was a relief.

　　"Now tell me about the situation in my house, Mr. Holmes, for I want you to have a comprehensive picture of the whole situation. My groom and the auditor were sleeping outside the house, and the two men could leave them alone. I have three maids who have followed me for many years, all of whom are absolutely reliable and unquestionable. However, there was another maid named Lucy Parr who served in my house for only a few months, but I was deeply satisfied with her excellent character. She was a very beautiful girl, and sometimes she would provoke some people who admired her to swing around, which was the only thing we found in her, but in every way, we believed that she was a perfectly good girl.

　　"That's all there is to it with regard to the servant side. My family itself is very simple and does not take a lot of time to talk about. I was a widower with only one only son named Arthur. He has disappointed me, Mr. Holmes, and it is so sad. This is undoubtedly my own fault. People say I spoiled him, probably so. After the death of my beloved wife, I felt that he was the only one I should love, and I couldn't stand even seeing him unhappy for a moment. I've always been responsive to him. If I had been strict with him earlier, maybe it would have been better for both of us, but everything I did was for his own good.

　　"Naturally, I hope he will inherit my career in the future, but he is not the kind of person who has the talent to do business, he is debauched and willful. To be honest, I couldn't even trust him to handle large sums of money. Although he was young, he was already a member of an aristocratic club, where he soon became a close friend of a group of profligate children of the wealthy because of his manners. He learned to make big bets at the poker table, spend money haphazardly on the racecourse, and from time to time came to me to beg me to pay him an allowance to pay gambling debts. On more than one occasion he tried to sever ties with his evil friends, but under the influence of his friend Sir George Bernwell, he was pulled back again and again.

　　"And, indeed, I am not surprised that a man like Sir George Bernwell was able to exert influence on him, and that my son often brought him into the house, and I felt that even I myself could not help but be seduced by his personable demeanor. He was older than Arthur and was an outspoken cynical man. I've been everywhere, I've seen everything, I can speak the Word, and I have a good look. However, when I put aside the charm of his appearance and calmly thought about his personality, his sneering conversation, and the look in his eyes that I perceived, made me realize that he was a completely untrustworthy person. I think so, and my little Mary has the same idea as I do, and she has a woman's ability to perceive a person's temperament.

　　"At this point, the situation in which Mary is left alone now needs to be said. She was my niece; after my brother died five years ago, he left her alone in the world. I adopted her and always regarded her as my biological daughter. She was the sunshine of my house—gentle, lovely, beautiful, very good at managing and managing the housework, and with the elegant, idyllic, extremely docile temperament that a woman should have. She was my right and left hand, and I didn't know what I would do without her. There was only one thing she did against my will, my son proposed to her twice because he really loved her sincerely, but both times she refused. I think if anyone can guide my son on the right path, only she can, and I think his whole life after marriage will change. But now, oops! It is irretrievable, never recoverable.

　　"Now that you know all the people in my family, Mr. Holmes, I will continue to tell you about this unfortunate matter.

　　"That night, while I had dinner and had coffee in the living room, I told Arthur and Mary what had happened, and told them that the precious treasure was now in the house, and I just kept the client's name a secret. I'm sure Lucy Parr left the room after bringing her coffee, but I'm not sure if she closed the door when she went out. Mary and Arthur were intrigued and wanted to see the famous crown, but I thought it would be better not to touch it.

　　"Where did you put it?' Arthur asked.

　　"In my own cupboard."

　　"Well, I hope it won't be stolen at night." He said.

　　"The cabinet is locked." I replied.

　　"Hey, that cabinet can be opened with any old key." I personally opened it as a kid with the key to the kitchen pantry. ”

　　"He used to speak flippantly, so I rarely thought about what he said. However, that night he followed me to my room with a very heavy face.

　　"Daddy," he said with his eyelids down, 'can you give me two hundred pounds?'

　　"No, I can't!' I replied sternly, 'I have always been too generous to you when it comes to money!' ”

　　"You have always been extremely merciful,' he said, 'but I have to have this money, otherwise I will never be able to enter that club again for the rest of my life!")

　　"That couldn't be better!' I shouted.

　　"Yes. But you're not going to let me leave it dishonorably,' he said, 'I can't stand that disgrace.' I have to find a way to raise the money. If you won't give it to me, then I'll have to try something else." ”

　　"I was very angry because this was the third time this month he had asked me for money." You don't want to get a penny from me," I said out loud. So he bowed and left the room without a word.

　　"When he's gone, I open the cabinet to see if my treasure is safe, and then I lock it again. Then I started to look around the house to see if everything was safe and error-free. In normal times, I always entrust this task to Mary, but I think it is best for me to patrol it myself that night. As I descended the stairs, I saw Mary alone at the side window of the hall. And as I approached her, she closed the window and plugged in the latch.

　　"Tell me, Father,' she said, looking a little flustered, 'did you allow your maid Lucy to go out this evening?'

　　"Of course not."

　　"She just came in through the back door. I believe she was going to meet someone at the side door just now, and I think it would be very unsafe and she had to be stopped. ”

　　"You'll talk to her tomorrow morning, and if you want me to, I'll tell her." Surely everything is closed? ”

　　"Absolutely sure, Dad."

　　"Well, good night!' I kissed her and went upstairs to the bedroom, where I soon fell asleep.

　　"I will tell you everything as much as I can, Mr. Holmes, and this may have something to do with the case. I have not made it clear, please be sure to bring it up. ”

　　"On the contrary, you make it very clear."

　　"Now to the part of the plot that I want to point out in particular. I am not a person who sleeps very deeply, and I am worried about my worries, which undoubtedly makes me sleep more easily than usual. At about two o'clock in the morning, I was awakened by some kind of noise in the house. The sound was gone until I was fully awake, but it left me with the impression that somewhere a window had once been gently closed. I leaned over and listened intently. Suddenly, to my horror, there was a clear, gentle footstep in the next room. I quietly got out of bed in fear and looked out the corner of the door in my living room.

　　'Arthur!' I screamed, 'You rogue, you thief!' How dare you touch that crown? ”

　　"The gas lamp I had placed there was still half on, and my unfortunate child, wearing only his shirt and trousers, stood by the lamp, holding the crown in his hand. He seemed to be pulling it with all his might, in other words, holding it. Hearing my shout, he loosened his hand and the crown fell to the ground. His face was dead pale. I grabbed it and examined it, and found that three pieces of green jade were missing in a gold corner.

　　'You villain!' I yelled madly. 'You broke it!' You're making me lose my whole life! Where did the few gems you stole go? ”

　　"Steal?!' He cried out.

　　"Yes, you thief!' I roared and shook his shoulders.

　　"Nothing is lost, nothing is lost." He said.

　　"Three pieces of green jade are missing here. You know where they are. Do you want me to say not only that you are a thief, but also that you are a liar? Didn't I see that you were trying to pull down another piece of emerald? ”

　　"You've scolded me enough,' he said, 'I can't stand it anymore.' Since you insulted me wantonly, I would not like to mention this matter again. I'll leave your house early in the morning and go somewhere else to earn a living for myself. ”

　　"You're going to fall into the hands of the police!' I shouted in a state of rage, half-madness, 'I'm going to pursue this matter to the end!' ”

　　"You don't want to learn anything from me." I couldn't imagine him being so unusually excited to say, 'If you're willing to call the police, then let the police search!' ”

　　"At this time, because I shouted loudly in anger, the whole family was in a commotion. Mary ran into my room first, and as soon as she saw the crown and Arthur's face, she sensed the whole situation, heard only her scream, and then fainted. I immediately sent maids to summon the police and ask them to investigate immediately. When an inspector entered the house with a sergeant, Arthur stood with his arms crossed and asked me if I intended to accuse him of stealing. I replied to him that since the broken crown was the property of the state, it was not a private matter but a public affair. I had to decide that everything should be done in accordance with the law.

　　"At least,' he said, 'you're not going to have someone arrest me right away.'" If I could leave this room for five minutes, it would be good for both of you and me. ”

　　"That way, you can get away with it, maybe hide what you stole," I said. At this moment I realized my terrible situation, and I begged Arthur not to forget that the honor of not only mine, but a man much nobler than me, was at stake, and that he could provoke a scandal that would shock the whole nation. But he could keep it from happening, as long as he told me how he disposed of the three missing pieces of green jade.

　　"You should also face this up, 'I said,' you were caught on the spot, and refusal to admit it would aggravate your crime, and if you want to take such a remedy as you can, which is to tell us where the green jade is hidden, then everything is forgivable and you don't remember the old evils.""

　　"Leave your forgiveness to those who plead with you for forgiveness." He replied with a contemptuous smile and turned away from me. I see that he is stubborn to the point where no words can impress him. There was no other way but to call the inspector in and take care of him, and at once a full search was carried out, and his body, the room where he lived, and every place in the house where he might have hidden the gems were searched, but no trace was found. Despite all our persuasion and intimidation, the hapless child refused to say a word. He was sent to his cell this morning. And after I had done all the formalities required of me by the police, I hurried here to beg you to use your skills to solve the case. The police openly admitted that they had gained nothing at the moment. You can spend what you think you need for this. I've already offered a thousand pounds. Oh my God, what do I do? Overnight I lost my credibility, my jewel and my son. yes! What should I do? ”

　　He held his head in both hands, his whole body dangling, muttering to himself as if he were a child with unspeakable pain.

　　Sherlock Holmes sat quietly for a few minutes, frowning and staring at the fire.

　　"Do you usually receive a lot of guests?" he asked.

　　"It was none other than my partner and his family, and the occasional arthur friend. George Burnwell has been here several times recently. I don't think there's anyone else. ”

　　"Do you often go out to social events?"

　　"Arthur often goes. Mary and I stayed home. Neither of us wanted to go. ”

　　"For a young girl, this is very unusual!"

　　"She's quiet by nature. Besides, she was not very young, she was twenty-four years old. ”

　　"This incident, as you said, seems to have greatly shocked her."

　　"Very shocked! She was probably more shocked than I was. ”

　　"Surely both of you think your son is guilty?"

　　"There's nothing to doubt about that, because I saw the crown in his hand."

　　"I don't think it's conclusive evidence. Is the rest of the crown damaged? ”

　　"Well, it's twisted."

　　"So have you ever thought that maybe he was going to straighten it out?"

　　"God bless you! You are doing everything you can for him and me, but the task is too difficult. What exactly was he doing there? If he is innocent, why doesn't he speak? ”

　　"Exactly. If he was guilty, why didn't he make up a lie? His silence seems to me to be explained in two ways, and there are several strange things about this case. What do the police think of the sound that wakes you up from your sleep? ”

　　"They thought it might be the sound of Arthur closing his bedroom door."

　　"It's like that! It was as if a man with a penal intention had to shut the door loudly and wake up the whole family. Well, so what did they say about the disappearance of these gems? ”

　　"They're still banging on the floor and searching the furniture, hoping to find them."

　　"Did they consider going outside the house?"

　　"After thinking about it, they're full of energy, and the whole garden has been carefully examined."

　　"Speaking of which, my dear sir," said Holmes, "does it not make it obvious to you that this matter is indeed much more profound than you or the policeman had at first thought?" As you may see, this is nothing more than a simple case; but it seems to me to be particularly complicated. Think of what your analysis is, and you guess that your son got out of bed, took a great risk, went to your living room, opened your cabinet, took out the crown, pulled a small part from it with great force, and went somewhere else, hid three of the thirty-nine pieces of green jade in a clever way that no one could ever discover, and then returned to the room with the remaining thirty-six pieces, risking himself the great danger of being discovered. Now let me ask you, does this analysis stand? ”

　　"But what other analysis can be made?" The banker shouted in a gesture of disappointment. "If he has no bad motives, then why doesn't he explain it?"

　　"That's exactly what we're going to do, to get things straight." Holmes replied, "So now, if you wish, Mr. Holder, we shall set out together to your House in Streitham and spend an hour examining it more thoroughly." ”

　　My friend insisted that I accompany them to the investigation, and it happened that I was quite eager to go with them, for the statement we had just heard deeply aroused my curiosity and sympathy. I confess that I, as I thought of the banker's son as a criminal, was obvious, as the unfortunate father, but I still had full confidence in Holmes's judgment, and felt that since he was not satisfied with the acceptable explanation, there must be some reason to show that there was hope for it. In the whole journey to the southern suburbs. He sat without a word, pressed his chin to his chest, pulled his hat down to cover his eyes, and immersed himself in deep thought. Our client, with a glimmer of hope in front of him, seemed to have new courage and confidence, and he even chatted with me in a disorderly manner about other business matters. After a short train ride and a short walk, we arrived at the less luxurious Ferban apartment where the big banker lived.

　　Ferban is a rather large house made of white stone, a bit far from the road. A double-lane driveway leads along a snowy lawn to two large closed iron doors. On the right, there is a small bush that stretches on a narrow path lined with small hedges that leads from the intersection to the kitchen door, becoming a path for retailers to enter and exit. On the left there is a path leading to the stables, which is not in the courtyard and is a public road that is not commonly used. Holmes had us stand in the doorway, and he himself walked slowly around the house, past the path taken by the vendor at the front of the house, and then behind the garden into the path leading to the stables. He walked back and forth for a long time, and Mr. Holder and I simply entered the house and waited for him by the fireplace in the dining room. As we sat in silence, the door was pushed open and a young lady came in. She was above average height, slender, with pitch-black hair and eyes that seemed to be unusually dark against her very pale skin. I can't remember when I've ever seen a woman with such a pale face. Her lips were also bloodless, but her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She walked in quietly, giving me the impression that her pain was greater than the banker had felt this morning, and that she was obviously a woman with a strong personality and great self-control, which was all the more striking. Ignoring me, she went straight to her uncle and stroked his head with the warmth of a woman.

　　"You've ordered Arthur to be released, haven't you? father? She asked.

　　"No, no, my girl, this matter must be traced to the end."

　　"But I do believe he is innocent. You know what women's instincts are. I know he didn't do anything wrong, and treating him so harshly, you have to regret it. ”

　　"So, if he is innocent, why is he silent?"

　　"Who knows? Maybe he was annoyed that you would doubt him so much. ”

　　"How can I not doubt him? I did see the crown in his hand. ”

　　"Well, he just picked it up and looked at it. Oh, take my word for it! He is innocent. Forget about it, don't mention it again. How terrible it was to think of our dear Arthur being thrown into prison! ”

　　"I will never give up if I cannot find the emerald jade—never, Mary, and your affection for Arthur blinds you to the grave consequences it has caused me. I must not leave it at that, and I have invited a gentleman from London to investigate the matter more deeply. ”

　　"Is it this gentleman?" She turned to look at me and asked.

　　"No, it's his friend. He wanted us to leave him alone. He was now on the other side of the path in the stables. ”

　　"That path in the stables?" Her black eyebrows rose upwards. "What can he expect to find there?" Oh, I guess that's him. I am sure, sir, that you will be able to prove what I am convinced of, that is, that my cousin Arthur is innocent. ”

　　"I totally agree with you, and, I'm sure, with you together, we can prove it." Holmes answered as he walked back to the shoe shine pad to wipe off the snow under his shoe. "I think I'm honored to be talking to Miss Mary Holder, and may I ask you a question or two?"

　　"Please, sir, if it can help to clarify this terrible incident."

　　"Didn't you hear anything last night?"

　　"No, until my uncle started talking loudly. I heard it before I came down. ”

　　"You closed all the doors and windows last night, but did you bolt all the windows?"

　　"It's all bolted."

　　"Are these windows still bolted this morning?"

　　"They're all still latched."

　　"You have a maid, she has a lover, right?" I know you told your uncle last night that she went out to meet him? ”

　　"Yes, she was the maid who waited in the living room, and she might have heard her uncle talk about the crown."

　　"I understand, you mean that she may have gone out and told her lover about it, and that the two of them might have conspired to steal the crown."

　　"But what's the use of these empty theories?" The banker shouted impatiently, "Didn't I tell you that I saw Arthur with that crown in his hand?" ”

　　"Don't worry, Mr. Holder. We have to ask about it. Miss Holder, about this maid, I think you saw her coming back from near the kitchen door, didn't you? ”

　　"Yes, when I went to check if the door was latched, I came across her sneaking in. I also saw the man in the dark. ”

　　"Do you know him?"

　　"Oh, I know! He was a vegetable seller who brought us vegetables. His name was Francis Prosper. ”

　　"He stands," said Holmes, "to the left of the door—that is, away from the road that needs to be entered into this door?" ”

　　"Yes, that's right."

　　"He's still a man with wooden prosthetic legs?"

　　The young lady's expressionless black eyes suddenly looked a little frightened. "How? "You're like a magician," she said, "how do you know this?" She was smiling. But Holmes's thin and eager face did not meet the other's smile.

　　"I'd love to go upstairs right now." Holmes said, "I'm probably going to have to go outside the house for another trip, and maybe I'd better look at the downstairs window again before I go upstairs." ”

　　He walked quickly past the windows, only to pause in front of the large window that could lead from the hall to the stable path. He opened the window and examined the windowsill very carefully with the high magnification he carried with him. Finally he said, "Now we can go upstairs." ”

　　The banker's living room was a small, simply furnished room with a gray carpet on the floor, a large cupboard and a long mirror. Holmes went first to the large cabinet and stared at the lock on it.

　　"Which key was used to unlock this lock?" he asked.

　　"That's what my son pointed out—the key to the lock that opened the pantry."

　　"Is it here with you?"

　　"It's the key on the dressing table."

　　Holmes took it over and opened the large cabinet.

　　"It's a silent lock," he said, "no wonder it didn't wake you up." This box, I think, holds the crown. We have to take a look. He opened the box and took the crown out and placed it on the table. It was a magnificent piece of jewelry, and the thirty-six pieces of green jade were the most exquisite jade I had ever seen. There was a crack in one side of the crown, and three pieces of green jade on one corner were pulled off.

　　"Now, Mr. Holder," said Holmes, "this corner is symmetrical to the corner of the emerald jade that has unfortunately been lost. I ask you to give it a try and see if you can break it open. ”

　　The banker flinched back in panic. He said, "I don't even dare to break it in my dreams." ”

　　"Then I'll try," Holmes snapped at it with all his might, but the lines didn't move. "I think it's a little loose," he said, "but, although my fingers are particularly strong, it's also very laborious to break it." It is impossible for an ordinary person to break it open. Well, Mr. Holder, what would have happened if I had actually broken it open? That would make a sound like a gunshot. Dare you say that all this happened only a digital distance from your bed, and you didn't hear anything at all? ”

　　"I don't dare to think about anything, I can't see anything."

　　"But things may become clearer. What do you think, Miss Holder? ”

　　"I admit I'm as confused as my uncle."

　　"When you see your son, he's not wearing shoes or slippers, is he?"

　　"He didn't wear anything but pants and shirt."

　　"Thank you. We have indeed benefited greatly from this inquiry, and we have been so fortunate that if we have not been able to make this matter clear, it is entirely our own fault. Mr. Holder, allow me to go outside again and continue the investigation. ”

　　He asked him to go alone, because he explained that going too many people would leave some unnecessary footprints and might cause more difficulties in his work. He worked for about an hour, and finally came back with snow on his feet, and his face was still so mysterious.

　　"I think I've seen everything I'm going to see here, Mr. Holder," he said, "and I think my best service to you is to go back to my house." ”

　　"But those emeralds, Mr. Holmes, where are they?"

　　"I can't say it well."

　　"Then I'll never see them again!" The banker rubbed his hands and said aloud, "And my son?" Didn't you give me hope? ”

　　"My opinion hasn't changed at all."

　　"So, my God, what the hell was going on in my house last night?"

　　"If tomorrow morning at nine or ten o'clock you can come to me at my residence on Baker Street, and I will gladly do everything in my power to make it clearer." My understanding is that you have full authority to entrust me with this for you, and as long as I can retrieve the emerald jade, you will not limit the amount of money I may withdraw. ”

　　"In order to get them back, I am willing to give up all my possessions."

　　"Very well, I will investigate this matter for this period of time before tomorrow morning. Goodbye, and chances are I'll have to come here again before the evening. ”

　　I know very well that my partner is now well aware of the case, and I have not even the slightest dim impression of what kind of conclusions he has come to. On our way home, I tried to find out from him again and again, but he always got to other topics, and in the end I had to give up this intention in disappointment. It wasn't even three o'clock in the afternoon when we got back to our house. He hurried into his room, and in a few minutes he came downstairs dressed as a universal tramp. He flipped the collar up, wearing a polished ragged tunic, a red tie, and a pair of worn-out leather boots, and became a typical tramp.

　　"I'll dress like this," he said as he looked in the mirror on the fireplace, "I wish you could go with me, Watson, but I'm afraid not." I may have found a clue to the case, or I may have followed the ghost fire, but I will soon understand which possibility it is. I hope to be back in a few hours. He cut a piece from the large piece of beef on the dining cabinet, sandwiched it in two slices of bread, then stuffed the dry food into his pocket and set out on an expedition.

　　I had just finished my tea when I saw him come back happily with an old boot with an elastic band on his side. He threw the old boot in the corner and went to pour tea.

　　"I just came in through here and took a look," he said, "and I'll have to go right away." ”

　　"Where are you going?"

　　"Oh, go over there in the West End." It may take a long time for me to come back to (1). If I come back too late, don't wait for me. ”

　　"How are you going?"

　　"Oh, it's okay. Nothing to complain about. I left you and went to Streitham, but I didn't get into the house. That little suspicious point is strange and funny, and I can't let it go easily. I can't sit here and chat, I have to take off my inferior outfit and put on my own superior outfit again. ”

　　(1) London's West End is a place where the rich live. - Translator's Note

　　I can tell from his every move that he has a more satisfying reason than what he suggests in his conversation. His eyes shone with brilliance, and his disheveled cheeks even glowed red. He hurried upstairs, and a few minutes later I heard the door of the hall slamming, and I knew he had once again set out to pursue the hunt he had naturally enjoyed.

　　I waited until midnight, and still didn't see him come back, so I went back to my room to rest. It is not uncommon for him to go out for days and nights to follow a clue, so it is not surprising to me that he is delayed today. I don't know when he came back, but when I went downstairs in the morning for breakfast, I saw that he was already sitting there, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other, full of energy and neat. "I'm sorry, Watson, I didn't wait for you to eat first." He said, "But don't forget our client's appointment with us this morning. ”

　　"Well, it's past nine o'clock," I replied, "I think he must be calling for the door." I heard the doorbell ring. ”

　　Sure enough, it was our financier friend who came. The changes that had taken place in him had shocked me, for his naturally broad and firm face, now emaciated and deflated, and his hair seemed to be grayer than before. He walked in with a withered tiredness, looking more painful than the violent look of the previous morning, and he slumped heavily on the armchair I had pushed him.

　　"I don't know what immoral thing I did that caused me to suffer so cruelly," he said, "but two days ago I was a happy and wealthy man, living carefree in this world." Now I have fallen to the point of having a lonely and disgraceful old age. What a disaster. My niece Mary abandoned me. ”

　　"Abandoned you?"

　　"Yes. This morning I found her bed that no one had slept in all night, her room was empty, and a note left for me was placed on the table in the hall. I had saddened rather than angrily told her last night that if she had married my son, he might have been fine. Maybe I'm too ill-thought-out about it. Her note also spoke of these words: 'My dearest uncle:

　　I feel that I have brought you distress, and that if I had taken another action, this terrible unfortunate event might never have happened. I have this thought in my heart, and I can no longer live happily under your roof. And I feel like I have to leave you forever. Do not worry about my future, for I have a place for myself; and above all, never look for me, for it will be futile and will do me a favor. Whether I am alive or dead, I will always be your dear

　　\\\\\\\\

　　"What does she mean by this note, Mr. Holmes?" Do you think she hinted at wanting to kill herself? ”

　　"No, no, that's not the case at all. This is perhaps the best solution. I am sure, Mr. Holder, that these troubles of yours are coming to an end. ”

　　"Ha! Surely you are? What did you hear, Mr. Holmes, what news did you hear? Where are those green jade? ”

　　"Don't you think a thousand pounds a piece of green jade is too much?"

　　"I'd rather pay £10,000."

　　"It's not necessary. Three thousand pounds is enough for this. I think there's a little gratuity. Did you have a checkbook with you? Give you this pen and write a check for four thousand pounds. ”

　　The banker looked dazed and wrote the check. Holmes went to his desk, took out a small triangular bag of gold paper with three pieces of emerald jade in it, and threw it on the table.

　　Our client let out a scream of joy and grabbed it in his hand.

　　"You got it!" He said urgently, "I am saved!" I'm saved! ”

　　This reaction of joy was as intense as his previous sorrow. He pressed these regained green jades tightly to his chest.

　　"You're also in debt, Mr. Holder." Holmes said rather seriously.

　　"Debt!" He picked up a pen, "How much I owe, I'll pay it back." ”

　　"No, this debt is not owed to me. You should apologize well to that noble lad, your son, for taking it upon himself, and if I could see my own son do this, I would be proud, if I had such a child. ”

　　"So arthur didn't take it?"

　　"I told you yesterday, and today I repeat, not him."

　　"You must be so! So let's rush to him at once and let him know that the truth has come out. ”

　　"He already knows. I went to talk to him after I figured it all out, and found that he was reluctant to tell me the truth, so I simply told him, and he had to admit that I was right after listening to it, and added a few details that I was not very clear. The news you brought this morning will surely make him open his mouth. ”

　　"Oh my God! So, tell me what this very bizarre mystery is all about! ”

　　"I'm going to do this, and I'm going to explain to you the steps I've taken to get the bottom line of things. Let me tell you from the beginning, first of all, it is difficult for me to say this, and it is difficult for you to hear it: sir George Bernwell and your niece Mary have a tacit understanding. The two of them had now fled together. ”

　　"My Mary? No way! ”

　　"Unfortunately it's not just a possibility, it's a positive fact. When you accept this person into your home, neither you nor your son knows much about his true temperament. He was one of Britain's most dangerous men—a downtrodden gambler, a vicious rogue, a man without a heart and conscience. Your niece knows nothing about this kind of person. When he swore to her as he had done to hundreds of other women before, she smugly thought she was the only one who had touched his heart. This demon knows how to use rhetoric to make her available to him, and meets with him almost every night. ”

　　"I can't, and I will never believe, such a thing!" The banker shouted with a pale face.

　　"So, let me tell you what happened in your house the night before. Your niece, when she thought you had gone back to your room, slipped quietly down and talked to her lover at the window facing the stable path. His footprints were deeply imprinted with the snow on the ground because he had been standing there for a long time. She talked to him about the crown. This news ignited his evil lust for gold, and he forced her to obey his wishes. I don't doubt that she loves you, but there are often such women, and their love for their lover will drown out the love for all other people, and I think she must be such a woman. Before she had finished listening to his instructions, she saw you coming downstairs, and she hurriedly closed the window and told you about the deviance of the maid and her lover with wooden prosthetic legs.

　　"After your son Arthur talked to you, he went to bed, but he couldn't sleep because of his debt to the club. In the middle of the night, he heard soft footsteps walking through his door, so he got up and looked out, surprised to see his cousin creeping down the aisle until she disappeared into your living room. The child was stunned in astonishment. Hurriedly put on a dress and stood in the dark to see what was going on. Then I saw her coming out of the room again, and your son saw her walking up the stairs with the precious crown in her hand in the light of the aisle light, and he felt a panic and ran over to hide his body behind the curtain near your door, from where he could see what was happening in the hall below. He saw her secretly open the window and hand the crown out of the window to someone in the shadows. Then he closed the window again, passed very close to where he stood—he was hiding behind a curtain—and hurried back into her room.

　　As long as she was still on the scene, he could not have done anything so as not to horribly expose the shameful deeds of his beloved woman. But as soon as she walked away, he realized how much misfortune this would cause you and felt how important it was to correct it. He hurried downstairs, still dressed and barefoot, opened the window, jumped outside into the snow, and ran along the path, where in the moonlight he saw a dark shadow. Sir George Burnwell was trying to escape, but was caught by Arthur, where two men fought, your child clutching one end of the crown and his opponent clutching the other. Between the twists, your son punched Sir George and injured his eye. Suddenly something was broken, and when your son found that the crown was already in his hand, he hurried back, closed the window, went upstairs to your room, and was inspecting the twisted crown and trying to straighten it out. ”

　　"Is this possible?" The banker pinched a handful of sweat and said.

　　"Just when he thinks he deserves your warmest thanks, and your insults against him provoke his anger, he cannot explain the actual situation without betraying certainly worthy of his serious consideration of his men. He thought he deserved chivalry, so he hid her secret. ”

　　"That's why she fainted with a scream as soon as she saw that crown." Mr. Holder shouted, "Oh! Oh, my God! I'm such a stupid fool! Yes, he asked me to let him out for five minutes! This dear child was thinking of the scene of contention to find the lost part of the crown. How cruel and ruthless I have wronged him! ”

　　"When I came to your house," went on Holmes, "I immediately went around and took a closer look to see what traces of the snow were helpful in my investigation. I knew it hadn't snowed since the night before, and there happened to be heavy frost protecting the imprint during this time. I passed the path taken by the vendors, but the footprints were so trampled that they could not be discerned. But on its side, a little further away from the kitchen door, there were traces left by a woman standing there talking to a man, and the footprints there were one round, which indicated that the man had a wooden prosthetic leg. I could even conclude that someone had alarmed them, for there were traces of the woman running back to the door in a hurry, which could be seen from the shape of the snow before the footprints were deep and the footprints were shallow. The man with the wooden prosthetic leg seemed to have been there for a while before walking away. I guessed at the time that it might be the maid and her lover. You have told me about them. Later, I proved that this was the case. I went around the garden, and saw nothing but a mess of footprints, which I knew had been left behind by the police; but when I reached the path leading to the stables, a long, complex scene printed on the snow unfolded before me.

　　"There were two footprints of people in boots, and two more, and I was glad to see that it was the footprints of a man who had beaten barefoot. I immediately proved, on the basis of what you had told me, that the last two footprints were left by your son. The first two footprints were going back and forth, while the other two were fast-running footprints, and his footprints were in some places draped over the footprints of the boots, and it was obvious that he had walked behind him. As I walked along the footprints, I found them leading to the window of the hall, where the man in boots had melted all the snow around him as he waited. Then I went to the other side, about a hundred yards down the path. Moreover, I could see that the man in the boots had turned around, and the snow on the ground had been trampled and crisscrossed, as if there had been a fight there, and that I had finally found a few drops of blood spilled there, which showed that I was not mistaken. At this time, the man in leather boots ran along the path again, where there was a small pool of blood indicating that he was injured. When he came to the other side of the road, I saw that the sidewalk had been cleared, so the clue was interrupted.

　　"When I entered the house, you remember, I used to use my magnifying glass to examine the window sills and window frames of the hall, and I immediately saw that someone had entered and exited from here. I could tell the outline of my foot because a wet foot had stepped on it when it stepped in. At that time, I had a preliminary opinion about what had happened here. That is to say, a man had been waiting outside the window; a man had brought the emerald crown there; and the situation had been seen by your son. He went after the thief and fought him; the two of them seized the crown together, and fought for it so that it was not the kind of damage that any one alone could have done. He returned with the spoils of war, but left a small part in the hands of his opponents. That's all I could figure out at the time. The question now is, who is that person? And who gave him the crown? "I remember an old adage that when you rule out the impossible, the rest, however unlikely, must be true. I know, it must not have been you who brought the crown below, so all that remains are your nieces and maids. But if it's the maids, then why would your son be willing to do it for them? There is no justification here. Because he loves his cousin, he has to keep her secret, so the explanation is very reasonable. The more this secret was a disgraceful thing, the more he had to do it. When I remembered that you had said that you had seen her in that window, and then she passed out when she saw the crown, my speculation became very certain. But who could be her co-conspirator? Obviously a lover, because who else in her heart can surpass her love and gratitude for you? I know you're reclusive, you've made limited numbers of friends, and Sir George Burnwell is one of them. I've heard him notorious among women before. The man who wore those leather boots and held the lost emerald must have been him. Although he understood that Arthur had discovered that it was him, he still thought that he could not be safe, because the young man could not but endanger his family if he uttered the word.

　　"Well, with your own good discernment, you can think of what the second step I took was. Dressed as a tramp, I went to Sir George's quarters, where I became acquainted with his personal servant and knew that his master had scratched his head the night before. In the end I spent six shillings to buy a pair of old shoes that must have been thrown away by his master. I came to Stritham with those shoes and checked them out. It was exactly the same as the footprint, not bad at all. ”

　　"Last night, I saw a ragged homeless man on that trail." Mr Holder said.

　　"One good point, that's me. I felt like I had found the person I was looking for, so I went home and changed my clothes. There is a delicate role for me to play here, because I feel that prosecution must be avoided in order not to cause a scandal, and I understand that such a cunning villain must see that our hands are bound in this matter. I came to him. In the beginning, naturally, he denied everything. But when I pointed out to him every specific situation that had happened, he took a talisman from the wall in an attempt to intimidate me. However, I knew who I was dealing with, and I quickly pointed a pistol at his head before he raised his baton to strike. That's when he started to be a little rational. I told him we could pay for the emerald jade in his hand—a thousand pounds a piece. This made him show a very regretful look. "Oh, it sucks!" He said he had sold the three pieces of green jade for six hundred pounds. After I promised not to report him, I quickly got the address of the recipient from him. I found the man, and after much haggling with him, I ransomed the emerald jade for a thousand pounds a piece. Then I'll go to your son and tell him it's all right. Finally, after what I could call a really hard day, I went to bed at about two o'clock. ”

　　"This day can be said to have saved England from a great scandal that was made public," said the banker, standing up, "sir, I do not know what words to say to thank you, but you will see that I will not fail in all that you have done." Your skills are something I've never heard of before. Now I must hurry up to my dear son and apologize to him for the wrongs I have wronged. As for what you said about poor Mary, it broke me. No matter how great your skills are, I'm afraid you can't tell where she is now! ”

　　"I think we can say with certainty," replied Holmes, "sir George Bernwell is where she is." In the same way, it is safe to say that no matter what crime she commits, they will soon be severely punished. ”

　　Bohemian scandal

　　One

　　Sherlock Holmes always referred to her as the woman. I rarely hear him refer to her by any other name. In his mind, she was superior, and other women were eclipsed. That's not to say he had any near-love feelings for Irene Adler. For for his mind, which emphasizes rationality, rigor and rigidity, and admiration, calm and composure, all emotions, especially the emotion of love, are out of place. He, I think, is simply the most flawless machine in the world for reasoning and observation. But as a lover, he would put himself in the wrong position. He never spoke warm words, let alone spoke with sarcasm and ridicule. The observer appreciates this gentle love story—because it is a very good thing for revealing people's motives and behaviors. But for a trained theorist, allowing this emotion to intrude into his own meticulous and rigorous character would distract him and cast into question all his intellectual achievements. Falling into a grain of sand in a precision instrument, or cracking in his high magnification lens, would not be more disturbing than the incorporation of a strong feeling in his character. Yet there was only one woman, and that woman was the late Erin Adler, still in his vaguely problematic memory.

　　(1) Bohemia, now the Czech Republic. It was ruled by Austria before World War I. - Translator's Note

　　I have rarely met with Sherlock Holmes recently. I neglected to deal with him after I got married. My complete happiness and the family pleasures that arose from feeling for the first time that I became the master of the family attracted my full attention. Holmes, on the other hand, was uninhibited and disgusted with all the elaborate etiquette of society, so he still lived in our Baker Street house, buried in the pile of old books. He took cocaine for one week and was full of energy the other, alternating between the drowsiness caused by the drug and the exuberant energy of his own warm personality. As usual, he remained obsessed with the study of criminal conduct, and used his remarkable talent and extraordinary powers of observation to find clues and to break the intractable mysteries that the police in the bureaucracy thought were hopeless to answer. From time to time I vaguely heard some information about his activities: about his being called to Odessa to handle the assassination of Trepov; about the investigation of the very strange Atkinson brothers massacre in Trincomalee; and finally about his so delicate and brilliant mission for the Dutch royal family. I, like other readers, read these things only from the newspaper. Other than that, I know very little about my old friends and partners.

　　One night—on the evening of March 20, 1888—I was on my way back from a visit (by this time I was practicing medicine again) just past Baker Street. The door of that house, I still remember vividly. In my heart, I have always associated it with what I was after and with the mysterious events in the case of the Study of Blood Letters. As I passed the gate, I suddenly had a strong desire to talk to Holmes about what problems his extraordinary intellect was currently pouring into. In his rooms, the lights were shining. I looked up and could see his tall, thin black silhouette reflected in the curtains skimming twice. His head was low to his chest, his hands clasped behind his back, and he paced around the room quickly and eagerly. I was well aware of his various mental states and habits, so to me, his gestures and demeanor itself showed what it was like – he was at work again. He must have just gotten up from his sleep after taking the pills and was keen to explore clues to some new problem. I picked up the bell and was led to a room where part of it had previously belonged to me.

　　His attitude is not very enthusiastic, which is rare, but I think he is still happy when he sees me. He said almost nothing, but with a kind look, pointed to an armchair for me to sit down, then threw over his cigar case and pointed to the alcohol bottle and the small gas stove in the corner. He stood in front of the fireplace and looked at me with his distinctive introspective demeanor.

　　"Marriage is a good fit for you," he said, "Watson, I think you've gained seven and a half pounds since we last met." ”

　　"Seven pounds." I replied.

　　"Really! I think it's seven pounds or more. Watson, I think it's a little over seven pounds. From my observation, you have opened a business to see people again. But you haven't told me in the past that you're going to practice medicine. ”

　　"How do you know that?"

　　"That's what I saw, what I deduced. Otherwise how do I know that you have been getting wet lately and have one of the most clumsy and careless handmaidens? ”

　　"My dear Holmes," I said, "you are simply too powerful. If you had lived centuries ago, you would have been burned at the stake. Indeed, on Thursday I walked into the countryside and came home drenched in rain. But I've changed my clothes, and I can't imagine how you can deduce it. As for Mary Jane, she was simply hopeless and my wife had sent her away. But I don't see how you deduced it. ”

　　He giggled and rubbed his slender, neurotic hands.

　　"These things are simple in themselves," he said, "and my eyes tell me that there are six nearly parallel cracks on the inside of the shoe on your left foot, just where the fire shines." Apparently, these cracks were caused by someone carelessly scraping the mud along the heel in order to remove the mud lumps that stained the heel. So, lo and behold, I'll make the double inference that you've been out in bad weather, and that the particularly ugly cracks in the boots you're wearing were the work of young and inexperienced maids in London. As for practicing medicine, it's because if a gentleman comes into my room with the smell of iodine, the black spots of silver nitrate on his right index finger, and a bulge on the right side of his top hat, indicating that he has hidden his stethoscope, I would be stupid enough not to say that he is an activist in the medical world. ”

　　The process of his explanation of reasoning was so effortless that I couldn't help but laugh. "When I hear you talk about these reasonings," I said, "things always seem so simple, almost ridiculously simple, that even I can reason myself, and I am always puzzled by every situation in which you take the next step in your reasoning before you explain the process of reasoning." But I still feel that my eyesight is not worse than yours. ”

　　"Indeed," he replied, lighting a cigarette and leaning back in his armchair with his body stretched, "you are watching, not observing. The difference between the two is clear. For example, you often see a staircase from the hall below to this room, right? ”

　　"Often seen."

　　"How many times?"

　　"Well, no less than a few hundred times."

　　"So, how many steps are there?"

　　"How many steps?" I do not know. ”

　　"That's right! Because you don't observe, you just look. That is precisely the point I would like to point out. You see, I know there are seventeen steps. For I not only looked but observed. By the way, since you are interested in these little problems, and because you are good at recording one or two of my little experiences, you may be interested in this thing. "He threw over a thick pink note paper that had been on his desk." "This was delivered by a recent postman," he said, "and you read it aloud." ”

　　The note has no date, no signature and no address.

　　[The note reads: "A certain prince will visit at three o'clock tonight, and there is something of great importance to be discussed with you." Your recent contribution to a European royal family shows that it is trustworthy to entrust you with the task of undertaking inconsistible matters. This kind of transmission, broadcasting in all directions, I know a lot. Don't go out at that time. If you are wearing a mask, please do not mind that it is lucky. ”

　　"It's a very mysterious thing," I said, "what do you think that means?" ”

　　"I don't yet have facts that I can use as an argument. It is the greatest mistake to speculate before we have these facts. Some people unconsciously adapt theory with far-fetched facts, rather than adapting theories to facts. But now there is only such a note, can you see if you can deduce something from it? ”

　　I carefully examined the handwriting and the paper on which the writing was written.

　　"The person who wrote this note is probably quite rich," I said, trying to imitate my partner's reasoning method. "Half a crown of this paper can't buy a stack. The paper is particularly strong and structured. ”

　　"Special—and these two words," said Holmes, "these are not a piece of Paper made in England at all." You lift up and look out for the light. ”

　　I did. See a large "E" and a small "g", a "P" and a "G" and a small "t" intertwined in the paper texture.

　　"Do you know what that means?" Holmes asked.

　　"Undoubtedly, it was the name of the maker, or more precisely, the monogram of his name."

　　"Completely incorrect, 'G' and the little 't' represent 'Gesellschaet' which is the German word 'company'. Like us 'Co. Such an idiomatic abbreviation. Of course, 'P' stands for 'Papier' – 'Paper'. Now it's 'Eg's turn. Let's turn to the Dictionary of Continental Place Names. "He took a book from the shelf with a thick brown cover." Eglow Eglonitz ,—— have, Egria. That's in a German-speaking country — that is, in Bohemia, not far from Karlsbad. It is famous for Wallenstein's death here, but also for its glass factories and paper mills. 'Ha, ha, dude, you know what that means?' His eyes sparkled and he triumphantly spewed out a large puff of smoke from a blue cigarette.

　　"This paper is made in Bohemia."

　　"Exactly. The person who wrote this note was a German. Have you noticed the peculiar structure of the sentence 'This kind of narration, broadcast quartet, I wait until I know it'? The French or the Russians would not have written that. Only germans use verbs like this. What remains to be ascertained, therefore, is what the German, who writes on bohemian paper and prefers to wear a mask to conceal his true face, really wants to do. - Look, if I'm not mistaken, he's coming, and he's going to break all our mysteries. ”

　　As he spoke, there was a crisp sound of horses' hooves and the rolling of the wheels rubbing against the curbside trimstones, and then someone pulled the doorbell violently. Holmes whistled.

　　"Listening to the sound is two horses," he said. "Yes," he went on, glancing out the window, "a lovely little carriage and a pair of beautiful horses, each worth one hundred and fifty taels. Watson, if nothing else, this case could have money. ”

　　"I think it's time for me to go, Sherlock Holmes."

　　"Wherever, Doctor, you stay here." Without my own Boswell, I would be overwhelmed. The case seemed interesting, and it would be a (1) pity to miss it. ”

　　"But your client..."

　　"Leave him alone. I may need your help, and he may do the same. Here he comes. Just sit in that armchair, Doctor, and look at us well. ”

　　We heard a slow and heavy footstep. First on the stairs, then in the aisle, to the door suddenly stopped. This was followed by a loud and vivid knock on the door.

　　"Please come in!" Holmes said.

　　A man walked in, no less than six feet six inches tall, with broad chest and strong limbs. He was richly dressed. But that palatial attire is a little almost vulgar in this part of Britain. His sleeves and double-breasted tunic are trimmed with broad lambskin at the slits of the front placket, a dark blue tulip draped over his shoulders lined with a blushish silk, and a pin pinned to the neckline with a single flame-shaped emerald. Coupled with a pair of leather boots up to the calf belly and dark brown fur on the cuff, this makes people more impressed with his entire appearance of rough and luxurious. He holds a large brimmed hat in his hand and wears a black mask covering his cheekbones on the upper part of his face. Apparently he had just sorted out the mask, because when he entered the house, his hand was still on the mask. Seen from the lower half of his face, his lips were thick and droopy, and his chin was long and straight, showing an almost stubborn determination, as if he were a strong man.

　　(1) Boswell was a right-hand man to the famous English writer Johnson. - Translator's Note

　　"Did you receive the note I wrote?" He asked, in a deep, hoarse voice with a thick German accent. "I told you I was coming to visit you." He took turns looking at the two of us, as if he wasn't sure who to talk to.

　　"Please sit down," said Holmes, "and this is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson. He often helped me with my cases. May I ask, what should I call you? ”

　　"You can call me Count von Cram. I am a Bohemian nobleman. I think this gentleman, your friend, is a man worthy of respect and great prudence, and I can entrust him with very important things. Otherwise, I'd rather talk to you alone. ”

　　I stood up to leave, but Holmes grabbed my wrist and pushed me back into my original armchair. "If you want to talk about two together, or don't talk about it," he said to the visitor, "in front of this gentleman, you can talk to me about whatever you want." ”

　　The Count shrugged his broad shoulders and said, "Then first of all I have to agree that the two of you will keep it absolutely secret for two years, and after two years it will be of no importance." It is not too much to say that it is so important that it may affect the course of european history as a whole. ”

　　"I promise to obey," replied Holmes.

　　"Me too."

　　"Don't you care about this mask," continued our strange uninvited guest, "the noble man who sent me does not want you to know who his agent is, so I can confess at once that what I have just said is not my true title." ”

　　"I know this," replied Holmes coldly.

　　"The situation is very delicate. We must take every precaution and do everything in our power to prevent things from turning into a great scandal, lest a European royal family be seriously damaged. Frankly, this would implicate the great Olmstein family, the hereditary king of Bohemia. ”

　　"I know this too," murmured Holmes, and sat down in his armchair and closed his eyes.

　　In the minds of visitors, he used to be portrayed as the most thorough reasoner and energetic detective in Europe. At this moment our visitor could not help but glance at the man's weary, lazy posture with a glaring look of astonishment. Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at his mighty client.

　　"If Your Majesty is willing to condescend to clarify the case," he said, "then I will do a better job for you." ”

　　The man jerked himself out of his chair and paced around the room with unbridled excitement. Then, in a desperate gesture, he ripped off the mask on his face and threw it to the ground.

　　"You're right," he cried, "I am the king, so why should I hide it?" ”

　　"Well, really?" Holmes murmured, "Before Your Majesty could speak, I knew I was going to speak to Archduke Castle-Fairstein, the hereditary king of Bohemia, William Gotreich Sigismund von Omstein. ”

　　"But you can understand," said our strange visitor, sitting down again, touching his high, white forehead with his hand, "and you can understand that I am not used to doing this kind of thing myself." But the matter was so delicate that if I told a detective about it, I would have to put myself at my mercy. I came here from Prague to ask you for advice. ”

　　"Then let's talk," said Holmes, and then closed his eyes again.

　　"Simply put, here's the thing: About five years ago, during my long visit to Warsaw, I met the famous female adventurer Irene Adler. You are no doubt familiar with the name. ”

　　"Doctor, please look up Irene Adler in my index of information," murmured Holmes, his eyes wide open. He has taken the approach for many years by putting some material on many people and things on paper for future reference. Therefore, it is not easy to name a person or thing that he cannot immediately provide. About the case, I found material about her personal experiences. It is sandwiched between two historical materials, a Jewish Doctor of Laws and a staff officer who wrote a paper on deep-sea fish.

　　"Let me see," said Holmes, "well! Born in 1858 in New Jersey. Bass – Hmm! Italian Opera House – Hmm! Principal Female Singer of the Imperial Opera House in Warsaw – that's right! Withdrew from the opera stage – ha! Staying in London - a nice point! As far as I understand, His Majesty is implicated in this young woman. You've written her a few letters that have bothered you, and now you're anxious to get those letters back. ”

　　"A good point. But, how can it be..."

　　"Ever married her in secret?"

　　"Nothing."

　　"No legal documents or proofs?"

　　"Then I don't understand, Your Majesty. If the young woman wanted to use letters for blackmail or other purposes, how could she prove that the letters were genuine? ”

　　"There are words I wrote."

　　"Yuck! spurious. ”

　　"My personal letterhead."

　　"Stolen."

　　"My own seal."

　　"Imitation."

　　"My picture."

　　"Bought it."

　　"We're both in this picture."

　　"Oh my God! That's bad. His Majesty's life is indeed too unruly. ”

　　"I was crazy — insane."

　　"You have done you serious damage."

　　"I was just a crown prince, and I was very young. Now I'm only thirty years old. ”

　　"Then you have to take that image back."

　　"We've tried, but it's all failed."

　　"Your Majesty must pay for the photographs."

　　"She must not sell."

　　"Then steal."

　　"We've tried five times. Twice I paid for a thief to search her house. Once she was on a trip we swapped her luggage. On two more occasions we robbed her. But nothing was found. ”

　　"There's no trace of that piece of image at all?"

　　"Not at all."

　　Holmes smiled and said, "This is a completely trivial question. ”

　　"But for me, it's a very serious problem." The king confronted him with a tone of reproach.

　　"It's very serious. Indeed it is. So what was she going to do with this picture? ”

　　"Destroy me."

　　"How about a lawbreaker?"

　　"I'm getting married."

　　"I heard about it."

　　"I will marry Claudel de Lautermann von Zaxmeiningen, the second princess of the King of Scandinavia. You probably know their strict house rules. She herself is an extremely sensitive person. The slightest suspicion of my actions would bring the marriage to an end. ”

　　"What about Erin Adler?"

　　"Threatening to give them the pictures. And she would do that. I knew she would do that. You don't know her, her personality is as strong as steel. She has both the face of the most beautiful woman and the heart of the most resolute man. As long as I marry another woman, she does everything. ”

　　"Are you sure she hasn't sent the pictures out yet?"

　　"I'm sure."

　　"Why?"

　　"Because she said she was going to send the pictures out on the day the marriage was publicly announced. That's next Monday. ”

　　"Oh, then we have three more days," said Holmes, yawning. "I'm so lucky because at the moment I have one or two important things to investigate. Of course. His Majesty is going to stay in London for the time being? ”

　　"Yes. You can find me at the Langham Inn. The name used was Count von Cram. ”

　　"I'll write a text message to let you know how we're going."

　　"That's great. I was very anxious to know. ”

　　"So, what about money?"

　　"It's up to you."

　　"Unconditional?"

　　"I can tell you that in order to get that picture, I am willing to exchange it for a province in my territory."

　　"What about the immediate cost?"

　　The king took a heavy antelope bag from under his great trunk and placed it on the table.

　　"Here are three hundred pounds of gold and a hundred pounds of gas." He said.

　　Holmes scribbled the receipt on a piece of paper in his notebook and handed it to him.

　　"What about the address of the young lady?" he asked.

　　"St. John's Wood, Seppentheon Avenue, Brionni Province."

　　Holmes wrote it down. "One more question," he said, "is the photo six inches?" ”

　　"Yes."

　　"Well, goodbye, Your Majesty, I am sure we will bring you good news soon. "Watson, goodbye," he went on to me, as the royal carriage headed for the middle of the street. "I would like to ask you to come tomorrow at three o'clock in the afternoon and talk to you about this little thing."

　　Two

　　At exactly three o'clock I arrived at Baker Street, and Holmes had not yet returned. According to the landlady, he went out just after eight o'clock in the morning. Nevertheless, I sat down by the fireplace, intending to wait no matter how long he went, for I was already deeply interested in his investigation. Although this case lacks the cruel and inconceivable character of the two crimes I have recorded, the nature of the case and the noble status of its client give it its proper character. Indeed, apart from the nature of the case which my friend is investigating, his skillful grasp of the situation and his keen and thorough reasoning, as well as his swift and delicate method of solving the most difficult mysteries, are well worth studying and learning from, and having a great pleasure in them. He always won, and that's a common occurrence in me. So, the idea that he might also fail was never conceived in my mind.

　　At about four o'clock, the door opened and a drunken groom came in. He looked scruffy, bearded, red-faced, and his clothes ragged. Although I had become accustomed to my friend's amazing masquerade skills, I had to look it over and over again to be sure it was really him. He nodded to me and went into the bedroom. Within five minutes, he appeared in front of me in tweed clothes as usual, gracefully and elegantly. He slipped his hand in his pocket, spread his legs in front of the fireplace, and laughed for a while.

　　"Oh, really?" He shouted, suddenly choked on his throat, and then laughed again, until he was lying weakly in his chair with a weak laugh.

　　"What's going on?"

　　"It was so much fun. I dare say you can't guess what I'm busy with in the morning, or what the result of being busy is. ”

　　"I can't imagine it. Maybe you've been paying attention to Miss Irene Adler's habits, and maybe you've also observed her house. ”

　　"It's not bad at all, but the ending is rather unusual. But I'm willing to tell you the situation. I left this morning a little later than eight o'clock this morning and dressed as an unemployed groom. Among those grooms there was a beautiful sympathetic, sympathetic feeling. If you become one of them, you know everything you want to know. I soon found Brionni Province. It was a small and elegant villa with a garden at the back. It was a two-story building, built facing the road. There was a Chabo lock hanging from the door. To the right is a spacious living room with ornate interiors, windows almost as long as they reach the ground, yet those ridiculous English latches can be opened even to a small child. There is nothing to note except that the windows of the aisle can be reached from the roof of the carriage house. I toured around the villa, scouting carefully from all angles, but found nothing interesting.

　　Then I walked down the street, and sure enough, I found a row of stables in the alley against the garden wall. I help the grooms groom their horses. They paid me two pennies, a glass of mixed wine, two pipes full of shredded tobacco, and (1) provided me with much I wanted to know about Miss Adler. In addition to her, they told me about the other six or less individuals who lived nearby, and I was not at all interested in these people, but I had to listen to them. ”

　　(1) A mixture of 1/2/2 of dark beer and spirit beer or two new and old beers. - Translator's Note

　　"How is Erin Adler doing?" I asked.

　　"Oh, she made all the men in that area fall under her pomegranate skirt. She is the most beautiful lady in the world. At the Sepenthain Street Stables, everyone says so. She lived a quiet life and sang at concerts. Every day I go out at five o'clock and go home at seven o'clock for dinner. In addition to singing, she spends the rest of her time in seclusion. She only interacts with one man, and she is very close. He was dark-skinned, handsome, and very energetic. He came to see her at least once a day, often twice. He is Mr. Godfrey Norton, who lives in Temple. Do you understand the benefits of being a confidant coachman? The coachmen drove him no less than a dozen times, and sent him home from the stables on Sepenthine Avenue, knowing nothing about him. After listening to everything they had to say, I began to wander once again around Brionni Province, thinking about my course of action.

　　"This Godfrey Norton is clearly a key figure in this matter. He is a lawyer. That doesn't sound great. What is the relationship between the two of them? What was his purpose in constantly coming to see her? Is she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If it was his client, she would have probably given him the photo for preservation. If it was his mistress, it would not be easy to do that. The answer to this question will determine whether I should continue my investigation into Brionni Province or turn my attention to the gentleman's residence in Temple. This is the main point that must be done carefully, which broadens the scope of my investigation. I'm afraid that these trivial details will bore you up, but I have to show you a little difficulty with me, if you want to get to know the situation. ”

　　"I'm listening carefully," I replied.

　　"I was weighing the pros and cons in my heart when I suddenly saw a two-wheeled carriage rushing to the front of the brionni mansion, and a gentleman jumped out of the car. He was a very beautiful man, black, with a hooked nose and a mustache—obviously the man I had heard of. He looked as if he were in a hurry, shouting for the coachman to wait for him. He passed in front of the maid who opened the door for him, showing an unfettered demeanor.

　　He stayed in the house for about half an hour. I could faintly see him pacing through the living room window, waving his arms and talking excitedly. As for her, I didn't see anything. He then walked out, as if in a hurry than he had just been. As he boarded the carriage, he took a gold watch from his pocket, looked eagerly at it and shouted, 'Hurry up, first to the Gross Hankey Hotel on Regent Street, and then to the Church of Santa Monica on Ebbefon Road.' If you can arrive within twenty minutes, I'll give you half a kini. '

　　"They were gone all at once. I was hesitating whether I should follow closely when suddenly a small and elegant four-wheeled carriage came from the alley. The coachman's tunic was only half buttoned, the tie was crooked around the ear, and all the metal hoops on the horse's pull were protruding from the buckle. Before the car could stop, she sped out of the gate and got into the car. In this instant, I only glanced at her, but I could already see that she was a lovely woman, and her appearance was enough to make men fall for it.

　　"'John, go to the church of Santa Monica,' she cried, 'if you can get there in twenty minutes, I'll give you half a pound of gold.'"

　　"Watson, this is a great opportunity not to be missed. I was weighing whether to catch up or climb behind when a rental carriage passed down the street. The driver looked at the thin fare. But I jumped into the car before he could say he wouldn't do it. 'The Church of Santa Monica,' I said, 'give you half a pound of gold, if you get there in twenty minutes.' It was eleven thirty-five, and what was going to happen was, of course, very clear.

　　"My coachman was hurrying. I don't think I've ever been in such a hurry, but the two carriages had arrived before us. When I arrived, the rental carriage and the four-wheeled carriage were already parked in front of the door, and the two horses were breathless and steaming. I paid for the car and hurried into the church. There was no one else there except the two men I was following and a priest in a white robe who seemed to be advising them of something. The three of them stood together in front of the altar. Like other idlers who occasionally wandered into the church, I strolled along the passages on both sides. To my astonishment, suddenly the faces of all three men in front of the altar turned toward me. Godfrey Norton ran toward me.

　　"Thank goodness!' He shouted, 'Just have you.' come! come! '

　　'What's going on?' I asked.

　　"Come, man, come, just three minutes is enough, or it won't be legal."

　　"I was half dragged and half pulled to the altar. Before I could figure out where I stood, I found myself murmuring a low voice in my ear, testifying to what I knew nothing. Overall, it was to help bind the unmarried woman Erin Adler and the bachelor Godfrey Norton closely together. It was all done in a very short time. Then the man thanked me on my side, the woman thanked me on my side, and the priest smiled at me. It was the most ridiculous scene I had ever encountered in my life. Just now I couldn't help but laugh when I thought about it. It seemed that their marriage certificate was a little illegitimate, and the priest, without some witnesses, flatly refused to give them a marriage certificate, but fortunately I appeared so that the groom did not have to run to the street to find a beggar. The bride gave me a pound of gold. I intend to tie it to the bracelet and wear it to commemorate this encounter. ”

　　"It was a complete surprise," I said, "and what happened next?" ”

　　"Cough, I feel like my plans are seriously threatened. It seems that this pair is likely to leave here immediately, so I must take swift and forceful measures. They broke up at the church gate. He took the car back to Temple, while she returned to her own quarters. 'I'm still in the car at five o'clock to the park as usual,' she said as she bid him farewell, and I heard that. They each drove in a different direction, and I left there to make some arrangements for myself. ”

　　"What is the arrangement?"

　　"Some brine beef and a glass of beer," he replied with a bell, "I've been so busy that I can't think of eating, and I'm probably going to be busier tonight." By the way, Doctor, I will need your cooperation. ”

　　"I'd love to."

　　"Aren't you afraid of breaking the law?"

　　"Not at all."

　　"Aren't you afraid of getting arrested?"

　　"For a noble goal, I am not afraid."

　　"Oh, that goal couldn't be more noble."

　　"Well, I'm the one you need."

　　"I was sure I could rely on you."

　　"But what are you going to do?"

　　"Mrs. Turner brought the plate at the end, and I'll explain it to you." Now," he said, turning hungrily to the simple food the landlady had brought, "I have to talk about it while I eat, because I have very little time left." It's almost five o'clock now. We must be at the site of operations within two hours. Miss Irene, no, madame, will drive back at the starting clock. We must meet her in Brionnidi. ”

　　"And then what?"

　　"I must take care of this after this." I've got some arrangements for what's going to happen. Now there is only one thing I have to insist on, and that is that no matter what happens, you must not interfere. You know what? ”

　　"Don't I care about anything?"

　　"Leave anything alone. Maybe there will be some small unpleasant events. You don't want to get involved. When I am sent into the house, this unpleasant thing will end. After four or five minutes, the living room window will open. You have to wait next to the open window. ”

　　"Yes."

　　"You must stare at me, I will always make you visible."

　　"As soon as I raise my hand — just like that — you throw what I've asked you to throw into the house, and at the same time, raise your voice and shout, 'On fire.' Do you hear me completely? ”

　　"Got it completely."

　　"That's no big deal," he said, pulling out of his pocket a long cigar-like roll, "it's a normal pipe with lids on both ends that can spontaneously combust." Your task is to take care of this stuff. When you shout for a fire, there must be many people rushing to put out the fire. That way you can walk to the other end of the street. I'll rendezvous you again in ten minutes. I hope you already understand what I'm saying, don't you? ”

　　"I should have remained uninvolved; approached the window; stared at you; threw this thing in as soon as I saw the signal; and shouted that it was on fire; and went to the corner of the street to wait for you."

　　"Exactly."

　　"Then look at me."

　　"That's great. I thought, maybe it's almost time for me to prepare for my new role. ”

　　He disappeared into the bedroom. After a few minutes, he came out dressed as an amiable and simple Protestant pastor. His wide black hat, loose sagging trousers, white tie, sympathetic smile, and gaze, kindness, and ragged demeanor were comparable only to Mr. John Lear. Fore (1) Moss not only changed his outfit, but even his expression, his attitude, and even his soul seemed to change with the new character he was dressed up. When he became an expert on crime, there was one less brilliant actor on the stage, and even one less keen reasoner in the scientific community.

　　It was six o'clock when we left Baker Street. We arrived on Sepentern Avenue ten minutes early. It was already dusk, and we were pacing outside Brionni province waiting for the owner to return, just as the lights were on. The house was as I imagined based on a simple description of Holmes. But the location was not as calm as I expected, on the contrary, it was very lively for a small street that was quiet in the nearby area. Around the corner of the street were a group of raggedly dressed, smoking cigarettes, talking and joking, a man with a grinding shear with a pedal grinding wheel, two guards flirting with nannies, and a few well-dressed young men with cigars in their mouths. "You see," said Holmes as we paced in front of the house, "their marriage simplifies things. That picture is now a double-edged weapon. It is likely that she was afraid that it would be seen by Godfrey Norton, just as our client was afraid that it would appear before the princess. The question at hand is, where do we go to find that photo? ”

　　(1) A famous British comedian from the mid-nineteenth century to the beginning of this century. - Translator's Note

　　"Really, where to find it?"

　　"The likelihood that she'll carry it with her is minimal. Because it was a six-inch photograph, it was too big to easily hide in a woman's clothes. And she knew that the king would intercept and search her. Such attempts have already occurred twice. Therefore, we can infer that she will not take it with her. ”

　　"So, where?"

　　"In the hands of her banker or lawyer." There are two possibilities. But I don't think either possibility is realistic. Women are inherently secretive, and they like to take their own approach to hiding things. Why did she give the photo AE Juf3 to someone else? She was trustworthy in her ability to supervise herself. But she can't say what kind of indirect or political influence a person who handles practice may be subjected to. Also, don't forget that she was determined to use the photo within a few days. So it must be where she can get her hands on it, it must be in her own room. ”

　　"But the house has been stolen twice."

　　"Ahem! They don't know how to find it. ”

　　"But how do you find a way?"

　　"I don't look for it at all."

　　"So what?"

　　"I'm going to make her show me the picture."

　　"Then she won't do it."

　　"She can't help it. I heard the wheels. It was the carriage she was in. Now do exactly what I command. ”

　　As he spoke, flashing lights from the headlights on either side of the carriage circled the crooked street. It was a beautiful four-wheeled carriage clucking in front of the first gate of Brionni Province. As soon as the carriage stopped, a tramp rushed up from a corner to open the car door, hoping to earn a copper, but was squeezed away by another tramp who was sneaking in front of him with the same idea. A fierce quarrel ensued, with two guards on the side of one tramp, and the scissor sharpener equally energetically on the side of the other. This is even more quarrelsome. Then I don't know who started the fight first, and then the lady just got out of the car and was immediately swept into the middle of the entangled crowd. The men were flushed, twisted together, punched and punched, and brutally fought each other. Holmes rushed into the crowd to defend Madame. However, as soon as he reached her side, he shouted and fell to the ground, his face covered in blood. The crowd saw him fall to the ground, two guards pulled their feet in one direction and slipped away, and the tramps fled in the other direction. At this time, some well-dressed people who only watched the bustle and did not participate in the fight crowded in to relieve the lady and take care of the injured gentleman. Erin Adler—I'd still like to call her that—hurried up the steps. But she stood on the highest steps, and the lights in the foyer outlined her extremely graceful figure. She turned back to the street and asked:

　　"Is that poor gentleman badly injured?"

　　"He's dead," several voices shouted in unison.

　　"No, no, he's still alive," cried another voice, "but before you can take him to the hospital, he'll die." ”

　　"He was a brave man," said one woman, "and if it were not for him, the tramps would have snatched Madame's purse and watch long ago." They're a bunch, and they're a bunch of rough guys. Ah, he can breathe now. ”

　　"Can't let him lie on the street. Can we carry him into the house, madame?" ”

　　"Absolutely. Carry him into the living room. There was a comfortable sofa there. Please come over here. Slowly and solemnly, they carried him into the House of Brionni and placed him in the main room. At this time, I stood near the window and watched the whole thing go by. The lights were all lit. But the curtains were not closed, so I could see how Holmes was placed on the couch. Whether he felt some guilt about his role at the time I don't know, but I do know that I myself have never been more ashamed in my life than to see the beauty I had conspired against or to see the gentleness and kindness with which she served the wounded. But to abandon the role that Holmes entrusted me with was now a most despicable betrayal of him. I hardened my heart and took the pyrotechnic tube out of my long coat. I think, after all, we are not hurting this beauty, we are just not allowing her to hurt others.

　　Holmes leaned back on the couch. I saw him move much like the kind of person who needed air. A maid hurried over and slammed the window open. In that instant I saw him raise his hand. Based on this signal, I threw the pyrotechnic into the house and shouted, "It's on fire!" As soon as my shouting fell, all the people who were watching the bustle, the well-dressed and the less decently dressed, the gentlemen, the grooms, and the maids, also screamed in unison: "It's on fire!" Smoke billowed through the room and came out of the open window. I caught a glimpse of a figure scrambling to run. A moment later, I heard Holmes from the room asking everyone to be reassured that it was a false alarm. I hurried through the crowd of exclamations and ran to the corner of the street. In less than ten minutes, I was happy to find my friend, who was holding my arm away from the hustle and bustle of the scene. Before we turned to a quiet street on Ebver Road, he walked silently and hurried forward for several minutes.

　　"Doctor, you've done a beautiful job," he said, "and couldn't have been more beautiful than that." Everything went smoothly. ”

　　"Did you get that picture?"

　　"I know where it is."

　　"How did you find out?"

　　"It's like I told you, she showed me the beautiful picture."

　　"I don't quite understand."

　　"I don't want to make this mysterious," he said with a laugh, "it's very simple." Of course you can see that everyone on the street is with us. They were all hired tonight. ”

　　"I guessed that's the case, too."

　　"When the two sides quarreled, I had a small piece of wet red paint in my palm. I rushed forward, fell to the ground, and quickly put my hand in my face, which became a pitiful look. It's a cliché. ”

　　"I figured this out too."

　　"Then they carried me in. She had to get me in. What can she do if she doesn't? She put me in the living room, which was exactly the room I expected. Then the picture was hidden between this room and her bedroom, and I decided to see which room it was in. They put me on the couch, I made a gesture that needed air, and they had to open the window so that your chance came. ”

　　"How does this help you?"

　　"It's too important. When a woman thinks that her house is on fire, she instinctively immediately rescues her most precious things. This utterly irresistible impulse, which I have exploited more than once. I used it in the Darlington replacement scandal, and in the Arneworth Castle case. A married woman hurried to pick up her baby; an unmarried woman first reached for the jewelry box. It is now clear to me that there is nothing more precious in this house than the one we are seeking, the present lady. She would definitely rush forward and grab it to her side. The alarm on fire was brilliantly set off. The smoke and exclamations were enough to shake the steely nerves. Her response was wonderful. The photograph is stored in an alcove that sits right behind the movable panel on the cable of the bell on the right. She only stayed in that place for a moment. When she pulled out the picture halfway, I saw it at a glance. When I shouted that it was a false alarm, she put it back in. She glanced at the pyrotechnic and ran out of the house, and I haven't seen her since. I stood up and made an excuse to sneak out of the house. I hesitated to try to get the picture on the horse, but the coachman came in. He stared at me attentively, so he had to wait for the right moment, so that it seemed safer. Otherwise, just a little bit of recklessness will mess up the whole thing. ”

　　"What now?" I asked.

　　"Our investigation is actually complete. Tomorrow I will visit her with the king. If you're willing to go with us, you go too. Someone would have led us into the living room to meet the lady; but I am afraid that when she came out to meet the guests, she would neither find us nor the photograph. His Majesty must have been very satisfied to be able to regain that photograph with his own hands. ”

　　"So when are you going to visit her?"

　　"Eight o'clock in the morning. Before she gets up, we can let it go. In addition, we must act immediately, because her living habits may change completely after marriage. I must send a telegram to the king at once. ”

　　By this time we had walked to Baker Street and stopped at the door. Just as he was pulling the key out of his pocket, someone passed by and said hello:

　　"Good night, Mr. Holmes."

　　There were several people on the sidewalk at this time. But the greeting seemed to be spoken by a slender young man in a long coat as he hurried past.

　　"I've heard that voice before," said Holmes, gazing in amazement into the darkened street, "but I don't know who greeted me. ”

　　Three

　　That night, I spent the night on Baker Street. As we were getting up in the morning to eat toast and drink coffee, the bohemian king rushed in.

　　"Did you really get that picture?" He grabbed Sherlock Holmes's shoulders with both hands and looked eagerly at his face and shouted.

　　"Not yet."

　　"But is there hope?"

　　"There is hope."

　　"So come on. I'm eager to go quickly. ”

　　"We have to hire a rental carriage."

　　"No, my four-wheeled carriage is waiting outside."

　　"That makes it easier." We walked down the steps and set off again for Brionni Province.

　　"Irene Adler is married," said Holmes.

　　"Married! when? ”

　　"Yesterday."

　　"Who are you marrying?"

　　"With an English lawyer named Norton."

　　"But she couldn't possibly love him."

　　"I wish she loved him."

　　"Why are you like this?"

　　"For in this way Your Majesty will not be afraid of trouble in the future." If the lady loves her husband, she does not love Her Majesty. If she did not love His Majesty, she had no reason to interfere with His Majesty's plans. ”

　　"It's true. But...... Ah, if she were as good as I am, what a great queen she would be! With that he fell back into a melancholy silence, until we stopped on Seppentain Avenue.

　　The gates of Brionni Province are open. An elderly woman stood on the steps. She watched with a look of contempt as we got out of the carriage.

　　"I suppose it's Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" She said.

　　"I am Holmes," replied my companion, looking at her in astonishment and somewhat astonishment.

　　"Really! My mistress told me you would probably come. This morning she went with her husband, and they took the train at five o'clock from Zeilncross to the European continent. ”

　　"What!" Sherlock Holmes smacked his toes back, pale with chagrin and amazement.

　　"Do you mean she's already out of England?"

　　"Never come back."

　　"And that picture?" The king asked in a flat voice, "It's all over!" ”

　　"We're going to take a look." Holmes pushed the servant away and ran into the living room, with the king and I following close behind. The furniture was scattered in all directions, shelves were removed, drawers were pulled open, as if the lady had hurriedly rummaged through boxes and cabinets before she left. Holmes rushed to the place where the bell was, pulled open a small sliding door, reached in, and pulled out a photograph and a letter. The photo is of Irene Adler herself in a night gown. The envelope read: "Mr. Sherlock Holmes, leave it to me." "My friend took the letter apart and the three of us gathered around to read it. The date of the letter was early this morning. The letter reads:

　　Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes,

　　You did a very nice job. You completely fooled me. Until the fire alarm, I was not suspicious at all. But then when I realized how I had leaked my secret, I began to think. A few months ago, people warned me to guard against you. Some say that if the king hires a detective, it must be you. They have already told me your address. But in spite of all this, you made me divulge the secret you wanted to know. Even after I became suspicious, I found it hard to believe that such an elderly, amiable pastor would harbor malice. But, you know, I'm a trained actress myself. Men's clothing is not new to me. I myself often dressed up as men and took advantage of the freedom it brought. I sent John—the coachman—to keep an eye on you, and then I ran upstairs and put on my walking clothes, and you were just leaving when I came downstairs.

　　Then I followed you to your doorstep, so that I am sure that I am really the object of interest to you, the famous Mr. Sherlock Holmes. So, rather presumptuously, I wished you a good night and left for Temple to see my husband.

　　We both thought that being watched by such a terrible adversary, thirty-six counts would be the best strategy; and therefore when you came tomorrow you would find the nest empty. As for that photo, your client can rest assured. I love someone who is better than him, and this person loves me. The king could do what he wanted without worrying about what would be in his way of the people he had mistreated. I kept that picture just to protect myself. This is a weapon that will forever protect me from any means he may take in the future. I'm leaving him with a picture he might be willing to take. I pay tribute to you, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

　　Irene Adler Norton salutes

　　"What a great woman—oh, what a great woman!" As the three of us read the letter together, the bohemian king cried out.

　　"Didn't I tell you how quick-witted and decisive she was?" If she could be queen, wouldn't she be an admirable queen? What a pity she and I don't have the same status! "①

　　"It is true that from what I have seen in this lady is very different from that of Her Majesty," said Holmes coldly, "and I regret that I have not been able to bring his Majesty's affair to a more successful conclusion." ”

　　"On the contrary, my dear sir," said the king, "there is no more successful ending than this." I know she means what she says. That picture is now and it has been burned that way reassures me. ”

　　(1) Here "status" and the following "level", the original text uses the word level, the meaning of the word pun. - Translator's Note

　　"I am glad to hear Your Majesty say this."

　　"I can't thank you enough. Please tell me how to reward you. This ring..." He took off a snake-shaped emerald ring from his finger and held it in the palm of his hand and handed it to him.

　　"Your Majesty has something that I think is even more valuable than this ring." Holmes said.

　　"You just have to say what it is."

　　"This picture!"

　　The king stared at him in amazement with wide eyes.

　　"Irene's picture!" He shouted, "If you want, of course you can." ”

　　"Thank you, Your Majesty. Then this matter is done. I wish you good morning. He bowed and turned away, not even looking at the hand the king had reached out to. He returned with me to his quarters.

　　This is how the kingdom of Bohemia was threatened by a great scandal, and how Holmes's brilliant plan was thwarted by the ingenuity of a woman. He used to laugh at women's cleverness and wit, and I've rarely heard him laugh lately. When he spoke of Irene Adler or of her photograph, he always referred to the woman as a respectful title.

　　Identity case

　　I sat with Holmes in front of the fireplace in his apartment on Baker Street. He said, "Dude, life is a thousand times more wonderful than people can imagine; the very ordinary things that really exist, we dare not even think about it." If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, soar over this big city, gently uncover those rooftops, and peek into the unusual things that were happening inside: the strange coincidences, the plot of the chambers, the awkwardness, and the shocking series of events that happened from generation to generation, leading to strange and strange results, it would make all the old novels that knew the ending at the beginning become boring and lost their marketing. ”

　　I replied, "But I don't believe it." The cases published in the newspapers are, in general, very monotonous and impatient. In the police report, realism has reached its extreme, and it must be admitted that the result is neither interesting nor artistic. ”

　　Holmes said: "To produce practical results, some choices and judgments must be applied. The police report did not have these, and perhaps the focus was on the platitudes of the magistrate rather than on the substantive details that observers considered essential to the whole incident. There is no doubt that nothing is as unnatural as the commonplace. ”

　　I smiled and shook my head and said, "I understand your idea very well." Of course, because of your position as an informal advisor and assistant to every troubled person on three continents, you have access to all the extraordinary people and things. But here"—I picked up a morning newspaper from the ground—"Let's do an experiment, and here's the first headline I see: "Husband Abuses Wife." This news article occupies half the column, but I don't fully understand what is said without reading it. Of course, there was another woman involved, binge drinking, shoving, punching and kicking, scarred and compassionate sister or landlady, and so on. Even the most clumsy author could not think of anything more shoddy. ”

　　Holmes took the newspaper, glanced at it cursorily, and said, "Actually, the example you give is very inappropriate for your argument. This is the case of the estrangement of the Dundas family, and at the time of the incident, I was working out some of the details related to the case. The husband was an absolute alcoholic, and there was no other woman; the accused behavior was that he had developed a habit of always taking off his dentures at the end of each meal and throwing them at his wife. You will think that this will not happen in the imagination of the average storyteller. Doctor, come on a little snuff, you have to admit, from the example you gave, I won. ”

　　He reached for his old gold snuff bottle, which had a purple crystal embedded in the center of the lid. Its brilliance contrasted sharply with his simplicity and simple life, and I had to comment on it.

　　"Oh," he said, "I forgot I hadn't seen you in weeks. This is a small souvenir from the King of Bohemia to thank me for helping Erin Adler in his photographs. ”

　　"What about that ring?" I looked at the brilliant diamond ring on his finger and asked.

　　"This was given to me by the Dutch royal family, and because the cases I have solved for them are very delicate, even for a friend like you who has always sincerely and sincerely recorded one or two of my small deeds, I am not in a position to disclose."

　　"So, do you have any cases on hand at the moment?" I asked him with interest.

　　"There are eleven or twelve, but none of them are particularly interesting. They are important, you understand, but not interesting. Indeed, I find that there is room for observation and agility to analyze causality in events that are not usually important, and such investigative work is interesting. The larger the crime, the simpler it tends to be; Of these cases, apart from the complexity of the one I came from Marseille, none of them were particularly interesting. But maybe in a little while there will be more interesting cases coming to the door, because if I'm not grossly wrong and specifically wrong, now another client is coming. ”

　　He got up from his chair, stood in front of the window where the curtains had been drawn, and looked down at the gray and depressed streets of London. I looked out over his shoulder and there stood a tall woman on the sidewalk opposite, with a thick fur bib around her neck and a wide-brimmed hat with large curly feathers, crooked over one ear in a manner of the Duchess of Devon. In this outfit, she peeked up at our window nervously and hesitantly, while her body swayed back and forth, her fingers fiddling with the buttons of her gloves. Suddenly, like a swimmer leaping from the shore into the water, she hurried across the road, and we heard a harsh doorbell.

　　Holmes threw the cigarette butt into the fireplace and said, "I have seen this sign before. Shaking on the sidewalk often means that pornography has occurred. She wanted to ask for advice, but she couldn't decide whether to tell someone about such a delicate matter. There is a distinction to be made even in this regard. When a woman feels that a man has done something very sorry for her, she stops shaking, and the usual sign is that she is in such a hurry to cut the doorbell line for you. Now we can see this as a love affair, but the woman is not very angry, but only confused or sad. Fortunately, at present, she has visited in person, and our mystery can be solved. ”

　　As he was speaking, there was a knock at the door, and a male servant in a number suit came in to report that Miss Mary Sutherland had come to visit. Before the words could be heard, the female guest appeared behind his diminutive figure in a black suit, as if it were a merchant ship sailing with the small boat leading the harbor. Holmes welcomed her with his extraordinary, generous and courteous manners, and he pushed the door casually, bowed slightly, and invited her to sit down in an armchair, and in a moment he looked at her with the absent-mindedness characteristic of him.

　　He said: "You are short-sighted, don't you think it's a little difficult to type so many words?" ”

　　She replied, "It did take a little effort at first, but now you don't have to look to know where the letters are." Suddenly, she realized the full meaning of his question, was so shocked that she looked up, her broad and kind face showing fear and shock. She cried, "Mr. Holmes, you have heard of me, otherwise how can you know all this?" ”

　　Holmes smiled and said, "It doesn't matter, my job is to know something." Maybe I've trained myself to understand what others overlook. Otherwise, why would you come to me for advice? ”

　　"Sir, I heard from Mrs. Estrept that you had come to you. The police and everyone thought her husband was dead and no longer looked for it, but you found it effortlessly. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I hope you will help me in this way. I am not rich, but apart from the little money I earn from typing, I have a hundred pounds a year from my own inheritance. As long as I have information about Mr. Hosmer Angel, I am willing to take it all out. ”

　　Holmes asked, "Why are you in such a hurry to leave the house to find me?" He tiptoed his finger on the tip of his finger and his eyes looked at the ceiling.

　　Miss Mary Sutherland's somewhat dazed face once again had a look of surprise. She said, "Yes, I came out suddenly. It made me furious to see Mr. WendyBank— my father — indifferent to this. He refused to report to the police, nor to come to you, and finally, since he did nothing, he just kept saying, 'It's all right, it's all right,' which made me very angry, and I put on my coat and immediately came to you. ”

　　"Your father," said Holmes, "must be your stepfather, for it is not the same surname." ”

　　"Yes, it's my stepfather. I called him Father, as ridiculous as he sounded, because he was only five years and two months older than me. ”

　　"Is your mother still alive?"

　　"Yes, my mother is still alive. Mr. Holmes, soon after her father's death, remarried, and the man was almost fifteen years younger than her, which made me very unhappy. My father worked in the tube business at Tottenham Court Road. He left behind a sizable business, which was continued by his mother and foreman, Mr. Hardy. However, Mr. WendyBank forced his mother to sell the business as soon as he arrived, because he was a traveling salesman who sold wine and was in a superior position. They sold their goodwill together with interest for a total of £4,700. If my father had been alive, he would have received much more money than that. ”

　　I had thought that Holmes would be bored with such a disorganized and headless narrative, but instead he listened attentively.

　　He asked, "Do you get this little income from this business?" ”

　　"Ah, sir, no. It was a separate income, left to me by Uncle Ned in Oakland. It's a New Zealand stock, and the interest rate is four-and-a-half cents. The amount of the shares was £2,500, but I could only use interest. ”

　　Holmes said, "I am deeply interested in what you say. Since you withdraw a huge sum of money like a hundred pounds a year, plus the money you earn from your work, it is not a problem that you can travel and live a comfortable life. I believe that a single lady with an income of about sixty pounds can live well. ”

　　"Even if it is much smaller than that, Mr. Holmes, I can do very well. However, as you can imagine, as long as I live at home, I don't want to be a burden on them, so when I live with them, they use my money, of course, this is only temporary. Mr. WendyBank offered my interest every quarter to my mother, and I felt that I would be doing well with just the little money I earned typing. For every twop of a dozen, you can often play fifteen to twenty a day. ”

　　Holmes said, "You have made your situation clear to me. This is my friend Dr. Watson, and in front of him he can be as much as he is in front of me, and the conversation is not bound. Tell us all about your relationship with Mr. Hosmer Angel. ”

　　Miss Sutherland's face flushed, and she nervously stroked the trim of her short coat with her hands. She said: "The first time I met him was at a gas decorator's dance. When my father was alive, they always had to give him tickets. After that, they remembered us and gave the ticket to my mother. Mr. WendyBank didn't want us to go to the ball. He never wanted us to go anywhere. Even if I wanted to go to church, he would be angry. But this time I made up my mind to go. I'm going to go, so what right does he have to stop me? He said that all of my father's friends would be there and that it was inappropriate for us to get to know those people. He also said that I did not have the right clothes to wear. And my purple plush dress was almost never taken out of the cupboard and worn through. Finally, he had no other way but to go to France for the sake of the company's business. My mother and I went with Mr. Hardy, who had been our foreman before. It was there that I met Mr. Hosmer Angel. ”

　　Holmes said, "I suppose Mr. WendyBank, when he returned from France, must have been annoyed that you had been to the ball. ”

　　"Ah, but his attitude is very good. I remember him laughing, shrugging his shoulders, and saying that it was useless not to let a woman do what she wanted to do, that she would always do whatever she liked. ”

　　"I see. I think you met a man named Hosmer Angel at the gas trimmers ball. ”

　　"Yes, sir. I met him that night. The next day he came to visit and asked if we were all back home safely. After this, we will see him... Mr. Holmes, I mean, I walked with him twice, but then my father returned, and Mr. Hosmer Angel could not come to my house again. ”

　　"Can't you?"

　　"Yeah, you know my father didn't like that. If he could do so, he always tried not to let any guests visit, and he always said that a woman's family should be content with the people in her own family. But I often told my mother that a woman must first have her own small circle, and I myself have not. ”

　　"What about Mr. Hosmer Angel? Didn't he manage to come to see you? ”

　　"Well, father is going to France again in a week, and Hosmer wrote saying that it would be safer not to see each other until he left. During this time we could correspond, and he always had letters coming every day. I had brought the letter in early in the morning, and there was no need for my father to know. ”

　　"Are you engaged to that gentleman at this time?"

　　"Ah, he was engaged, Mr. Holmes. We got engaged after our first walk. Mr. Hosmer Angel... Was the cashier at an office on Rydenhall Street, and..."

　　"What office?"

　　"Mr. Holmes, the biggest problem is here, I don't know."

　　"So, where does he live?"

　　"I live in the office."

　　"You don't even know his address?"

　　"I don't know... Only Lydenhall Street is known. ”

　　"So, where did your letter go?"

　　"Send it to the Leidenhall Street Post Office and save it for me to collect." He said that if he sent it to the office, the other clerks would laugh at him for communicating with women. So I offered to type out the letter with a typewriter, as he had done, but he refused, because he said that the letter I had written in my own handwriting was as if I were dealing directly with me, and the typed letter always felt as if there was a machine between the two of us. Mr. Holmes, this is a good indication of how much he likes me, even with small things he thinks very carefully. ”

　　Holmes said: "This is the most telling. For a long time, I've believed that small things are the most important thing. Do you remember mr. Hosmer Angel's other little things? ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, he is a very shy man. He would rather walk with me at night than during the day, because he said he was very reluctant to be noticed. He was polite and laid-back, and even spoke softly. He told me that he had suffered from tonsillitis and enlarged neck glands in his childhood, and that his throat had not been very good since then, and that he spoke vaguely and softly. He was always very particular about his clothes, very neat and elegant, but his eyesight was not good, just like mine, so he put on light-colored glasses to block out the dazzling light. ”

　　"Well, what happens when your stepfather, Mr. WendyBank, goes to France again?"

　　"Mr. Hosmer Angel came to my house again and proposed that we should marry before my father returned. He was very serious and asked me to put my hand on the Bible and swear that no matter what happened, I would always be faithful to him. My mother said that he was absolutely right to ask me to swear, which was a sign of his enthusiasm. My mother had a great affection for him from the beginning, even more than I did. So when they talk about having a wedding in a week, I bring up my father. But both of them said they didn't have to worry about their father, just tell him afterwards. The mother also said that she would negotiate the matter with her father. Mr. Holmes, I do not like such a practice. It was ridiculous to say that he was only a few years older than me and had to get his permission, but I didn't want to do anything secretly, so I wrote a letter to my father to Bordeaux, where the company's office in France was located, but it was returned on the morning of my wedding. ”

　　"So, he didn't receive the letter?"

　　"Yes, sir; for he had just left for England at the time of the letter."

　　"Haha! That's not a coincidence. Well, your wedding is scheduled on Friday. Is it scheduled to be held at the church? ”

　　"Yes, sir, but quietly, not at all ostentatious. We decided to have the wedding ceremony at the Church of St. Saviour at the Royal Crossroads. After the wedding, breakfast at the Santa Pancra Hotel. Hosmer came to pick us up in a two-wheeled two-seater carriage. But we were two people, and he let the two of us board the carriage, and there happened to be another four-wheeled carriage on the street, and he himself got into that carriage. We went to the church first, and when the carriage arrived later, we waited for him to get out of the carriage, but we didn't see him come out of the carriage. When the coachman gets out of the seat of the carriage, he sees that the person is gone and gone! The coachman said he couldn't imagine where he went because he had seen him get into the carriage. Mr. Holmes, it was last Friday, and I have not heard from him since. ”

　　Holmes said: "It seems that to treat you in this way is a great insult to you. ”

　　"Ah, no, no, sir. He was too nice and considerate of me to leave me like this. You see, he said to me early in the morning that no matter what happens, I will be loyal to him; even if something unexpected happens to separate us, I will always remember that I have made an oath to him, and sooner or later he will ask me to fulfill this oath. On wedding morning, it may seem a little strange to say such a thing, but judging by what happened later, it makes sense. ”

　　"It's very certain that this has meaning. So, do you think he's had an unexpected flying disaster? ”

　　"But isn't it, sir. I believe he foresees certain dangers, otherwise he would not have said such things. After that, I think what he foresaw finally happened. ”

　　"But haven't you thought about what might happen?"

　　"One more question. How did your mother deal with this? ”

　　"She was angry and told me never to mention it again."

　　"And your father?" Did you tell him? ”

　　"Tell me, he seems to think the same thing as I do, what happened, but I will get news of Hosmer again." According to him, taking me to the church door and losing it, whatever benefit would it be to anyone? Well, if he borrowed my money, or married me and I transferred the property to him, there may be some reason to say, but Hosmer is completely independent of others on the question of money, and has never been dismissive of my money, even if it is a shilling. So what else would happen? Why don't you even write a letter? Alas, the thought of it really drove me half crazy and half-crazy, and I couldn't close my eyes all night. She drew a handkerchief from her leather cage, covered her face and began to cry bitterly.

　　Holmes stood up and said, "I'm going to handle this case for you, and we'll get the result, there's no doubt about that." Now let me pick up this burden, you don't have to worry about it anymore. It is especially important to let Mr. Hosmer disappear from your memory, just as he disappeared from your life. ”

　　"So, do you think I won't see him again?"

　　"I'm afraid not."

　　"So, what happened to him?"

　　"You've given me this question. I would like to get an accurate description of this man, and also want his letters that you keep now. ”

　　"I ran an ad looking for him in the Chronicle last Saturday," she said. This is the ad, and here are four letters from him. ”

　　"Thank you. What about your mailing address? ”

　　"Camberwell, 31 Rue de Lyon."

　　"I know you've never had Mr. Angel's address, so where is your father's place of work?"

　　"He was a traveling salesman for Westhouse Mabank, the great importer of French red wine in Finchutchet."

　　"Thank you. You've made the situation very clear. Please leave these documents behind and remember the advice I gave you. This whole affair ends like this, don't let it affect your life. ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, you are too good for me, but I cannot do this. I want to be faithful to Hosmer. I'm going to marry him as soon as he comes back. ”

　　Our guest, despite wearing a ridiculous hat, looked dazed. But her pure servant's loyalty carries a noble sentiment that makes us have to be awe-struck. She left with a small bundle of papers on the table, promising to come back when she was needed.

　　Holmes was silent for a few minutes, the tips of his fingers still on top of his fingers, his legs stretched forward, his eyes staring upwards at the ceiling. He then removed from the shelf the old, greasy pottery pipe that seemed to him as a consultant. After lighting the tobacco, he leaned back in his chair, the thick blue smoke lingering, and his face showed an infinite contemplative look.

　　He said: "The girl herself was a very interesting subject of study. I found herself more interesting than her little question. By the way, her problem is just a very ordinary one. If you look at my case, the Andover Index in 1877, you will find the same example, and there were some similar incidents in The Hague last year. Those are all old ideas, and I think one or two of them are new. But the girl herself was the most thought-provoking. ”

　　I said, "You seem to be able to see a lot of things in her that I can't see." It wasn't that he couldn't see it, Watson, but that he didn't pay attention. You don't know where to look, so you ignore everything that matters. I've never made you realize the importance of sleeves, see problems in thumb nails, or find big problems on shoelaces. Well, what do you see in this girl's appearance? You describe it. Well, she wore a blue-gray broad-brimmed straw hat with a brick red feather inserted into it. Her short coat is gray-black, sewn with black beads and edged with small black jade ornaments. Her blouse was brown, darker than coffee, and her collar and buttons were studded with narrow strips of purple plush. The gloves are light gray and the index finger of the right hand has been worn. I didn't pay attention to what shoes she was wearing. She was slightly fat, wore sagging gold earrings, and the overall style seemed to be quite rich, and her appearance was ordinary, comfortable, and free. ”

　　Holmes clapped his hands softly and smiled.

　　"Watson, I'm not flattering you, you've made a lot of progress. Your description is really good. You've ignored everything that's important, but you've mastered the method. Your eyes are sharp in observing colors. Dude, you must not rely on general impressions, but concentrate on details. My first focus is always on a woman's sleeve. Look at a man, perhaps it is better to first observe the knee of his pants. As you can see, the woman has a plush on her sleeve, which is the most useful material for revealing traces. The two lines a little further up the wrist are where the typist presses against the table, which seems very obvious. Hand-cranked sewing machines leave similar marks, but on the left arm, away from the farthest side of the thumb, rather than just across the widest part like a typing mark. I then looked at her face and saw that there were indentations left by the clipping glasses on both sides of the bridge of her nose, and I boldly proposed both myopia and typing, which seemed to break her. ”

　　"It blew me away, too."

　　"But it's a good point, it's obvious. I looked down and observed with great astonishment and interest that although the two boots she was wearing were not different from each other, they were not actually a pair. One boot has a patterned leather bag head on the tip, the other does not. Only the bottom two of the five buttons of one boot are buttoned, while the other one is fastened with the first, third and fifth buttons. Well, when you see a young woman, neatly dressed, but when she goes out wearing unmatched boots, and the buttons on the boots are only half buttoned, it means that she is in a hurry when she leaves home, which is not a great inference. ”

　　"What else?" I asked, and my friend's thorough reasoning often aroused my strong interest.

　　"By the way, I noticed that she wrote a note before she walked out of the house, but this note was written after it was dressed. You noticed that the index finger of her right glove was broken, but you obviously didn't see that both the glove and the index finger were stained with purple ink. She wrote in a hurry, and the pen was inserted too deeply when dipped in ink. It must have happened this morning, otherwise the ink wouldn't have clearly left on the fingers, and it was all simple but fun. But I have to get back to the point, Watson, and read me the notice to find Mr. Hosmer Angel? ”

　　I put the small printed note in front of the lamp. (The notice reads): On the morning of the fourteenth, a gentleman named Hosmer Angel disappeared. The man was five feet seven inches tall, with a muscular physique, a pale yellow complexion, jet-black hair, a slightly bald top of his head, thick, dark cheeks and lips, light-colored sunglasses, and whispered. Before disappearing, he wore a silk-trimmed black gown, a black vest, Harris tweed gray pants, brown leggings, and boots with elastic bands on both sides. An Albert-style gold chain hangs from the vest. The man worked for a firm on Leidenhall Street. If anyone..."

　　"All right," said Holmes, "as for the letters," he glanced at them, and continued, "very general. Apart from a quote from Balzac once, there are no clues about Mr. Hosmer. One thing to note, though, is that it will no doubt surprise you. ”

　　"The letters were typed on a typewriter," I said.

　　"Not only that, but even the signature is typed. Look at the neatly laid out small words at the end of the letter: 'Hosmer Angel'. There are dates, but the address is very vague except 'Leidenhall Street'. This signature is telling, in fact, we can say that it is decisive. ”

　　"About what?"

　　"My good friend, don't you see the important relationship between this signature and this case?"

　　"I dare not say that I have seen it, and perhaps he wants to deny that it is his signature when someone sues him for breaking the contract."

　　"No, that's not the problem. However, I'm going to write two letters so that I can solve the problem. One to a trading house in London; another to the young lady's stepfather, Mr. WendyBank, asking if he could meet us here at six o'clock tomorrow night. We might as well deal with male relatives. Well, doctor, we have nothing to do until we receive a reply from these two letters, and we can put this little question aside for a moment. ”

　　I have every reason to believe that my friend is meticulous in his actions and has excellent energy, so I think his confident and unhurried attitude of being asked to investigate this cracked suspicious case must be very well founded. I know that he has failed only once, in the case of the photographs of King Bohemia and Irene Adler; but when I look back at the strange things of the 'four signatures' and the very unusual circumstances associated with the study of the 'blood letters', I think that it is a very mysterious case if even he cannot solve it.

　　When I left him, he was still smoking that black clay pipe, and I am sure that when I return tomorrow night, I will find out that he has all the clues that will ultimately confirm who Miss Mary Sutherland's missing groom really is.

　　I was busy treating a seriously ill patient, and the next day I was busy at the bedside for another day, and at nearly six o'clock I got free time, so I jumped into a two-wheeled carriage and drove straight to Baker Street, a little worried that I would not be able to catch up with the case to help solve the case. When I met Sherlock Holmes, he was home alone, slender and curled up in a sunken armchair, half asleep and half awake. The daunting rows of flasks and test tubes give off a fresh, pungent scent of hydrochloric acid, suggesting that he spends his days immersed in his beloved chemistry experiments.

　　"Hey, is it solved?" I walked in the door as I asked.

　　"Solved, it is barium bisulfate."

　　"No, no, I'm talking about the mystery!" I cried.

　　"Oh, that! I think of this salt that I've been experimenting with. Although I said yesterday that there is nothing mysterious about this case, some of the details are interesting. The only flaw was that I feared that there was no law that could punish the villain. ”

　　"Who is he?" What was his purpose in abandoning Miss Sutherland? ”

　　No sooner had the question come out of my mouth, and before Holmes could answer it, we heard a heavy footstep in the corridor, and there was a knock at the door.

　　"It was the girl's stepfather, Mr. James WendyBank." Holmes said, "He wrote to me that he would come at six o'clock. Please come in! The man who entered the door was strong, of medium build, in his thirties, with a shaved beard, a pale yellow complexion, a courteous, flattering look, and sharp gray eyes. He glanced at both of us inquiringly, rested his glossy round hat on the side shelf, bowed slightly, and sat sideways in the nearest chair.

　　"Good night, Mr. James Wendybank," said Holmes, "I suppose this typed letter came from you, and you agreed to meet us at six o'clock, didn't you?" ”

　　"Yes, sir. I'm afraid it's a little late, but I can't help myself. I'm sorry Miss Sutherland bothered you with such a trivial matter, and I think it's better not to be ugly. She came to you, against my will. As you have seen, she is a temper-tempered, impulsive girl, and once she decides what to do, she can't control herself. Of course, I don't mind you very much, because you have no contact with the police; but it is not a pleasure to let this family misfortune spread to society. And, it's futile, because how could you possibly find Hosmer Angel the man? ”

　　"On the contrary," said Holmes quietly, "I have every reason to believe that I will find Mr. Hosmer Angel. ”

　　Mr. WendyBank shook violently, and the glove fell to the ground, and he said, "It is a great pleasure to hear your words." ”

　　"It is strange," said Holmes, "that typing also shows a person's personality like a handwritten book. Unless the typewriter is new, the words typed by the two typewriters will not be exactly the same. Some letters wear out more than others, and some letters wear only one side. Mr. WendyBank, look at this short note you typed yourself, the letter 'e' is always a little blurry, and the tail of the letter 'r' is always a little missing. There are fourteen other more obvious features. ”

　　"Our correspondence was made using this typewriter in the office, and of course it was a little worn," said our guest, his glowing little eyes glancing quickly at Holmes.

　　"Now I'm going to tell you what is really interesting research, Mr. WendyBank," continued Holmes, "and I'd like to write another short treatise on the typewriter and the relationship between the typewriter and crime in the next few days." This is a topic that I have drawn my attention to. I had four letters in my hand that said they were from the missing man, all of them typed. Not only are the letters 'e' in every letter vague and the letters 'r' missing tails, but if you're willing to take a look at it with my magnifying glass, the remaining fourteen features I mentioned are also there for a purpose. ”

　　Mr. WendyBank jumped up from his chair, picked up his hat, and said, "Mr. Holmes, I cannot waste time listening to such nonsense. If you can catch that person, just grab him, and when you catch him, tell me. ”

　　Holmes stepped forward, locked the door, and said, "Then I will tell you that I have caught him now." ”

　　"What, where?" Mr. WendyBank shouted, so frightened that his lips turned white, and looked at him with blinking eyes, like a rat that had fallen into a rat cage.

　　"Ah, there is no use in your shouting, there is no use at all," said Holmes gently, "Mr. WendyBank, that is simply impossible to fall for." Things couldn't be clearer. You're so rude to say I can't solve such a simple problem. That's a simple question! Please sit down and let's talk. ”

　　The guest slumped entirely in his chair, pale, sweat dripping from his forehead, and stuttered, "This... This is not enough to file a lawsuit. ”

　　"Indeed, I am afraid it is not yet so. But, Mr. WendyBank, as far as you and I are concerned, this is the most selfish, cruel, and heartbreaking trick I have ever seen. Let me recount the story from beginning to end, and if it is not right, you can refute it. ”

　　The man sat in a chair in a huddled circle, his head hunched over his chest, looking like he had been completely crushed. Holmes rested his feet on the corner of the mantelpiece, put his hand in his pocket, leaned back, and began to speak as if to himself.

　　"The man married a woman who was much older than him for money," he said, "and as long as his daughter lived on an equal footing with them, he could enjoy her money." In terms of their position, the money is considerable. Lose that money and the situation will be very different. So it's worth fighting to keep it. The daughter is kind and kind in heart, and her personality is gentle and affectionate. Obviously, a girl with her character and income will not empty the boudoir. If she were to marry, which would certainly mean a hundred pounds a year in income, how could her stepfather prevent this affair? He was clearly trying to keep her in his home and forbid her from associating with friends of the same age. Soon, he discovered that this was not a long-term solution. She became less obedient, insisting on her rights, and finally claimed to have to go to the ball. So what about her scheming stepfather? He came up with a sinister trick. With the acquiescence and assistance of his wife, he disguised himself, put sunglasses on his keen eyes, put on a fake beard and a fluffy fake beard on his face, and pretended to speak clearly as a soft whisper, and his disguise was even more foolproof because of his daughter's myopia. He appeared in the name of Mr. Hosmer Angel. He himself courted his daughter so that she wouldn't fall in love with another man. ”

　　"I was just joking with her," the guest snorted, "and we didn't expect her to be so obsessed." ”

　　"It's not a joke at all. However, the young girl was indeed blinded, thinking that her stepfather was in France, and never doubted that she had been deceived. She was pleased to have been flattered by the gentleman. And her mother's praise made her even happier. So Mr. Angel began to visit, because once it worked, things had to go on. After meeting several times and getting engaged, this finally ensures that the girl's heart will not turn to others. But the game can't go on forever, and pretending to go on a business trip to France is quite troublesome, so it is simply a dramatic ending, so as to leave an indelible impression on the young girl's heart, so as to prevent her from one day looking at other men who have proposed marriage. Thus, there are tricks such as hand-pressed Bible oaths and white heads, the morning of the wedding day to suggest that something may happen. James WendyBank wanted Miss Sutherland to be faithful to Hosmer Angel, while his life and death were uncertain, all in all, so that she would not listen to other men for the next decade. Hosmer accompanied her to the church door, where he could not go any further, and he played the old trick of slipping through this door of the carriage, and out of that door, and slipped away leisurely. I think that's how the whole thing goes, Mr. WendyBank! ”

　　As Holmes recounted, our guest regained a little self-confidence, and he rose from his chair with a pale face showing a sneering look.

　　"Maybe it's true, maybe it's false, Mr. Holmes," he said, "you're smart, you should be smarter, so you can see that you're violating the law, not me." I have never done anything that would constitute prosecution, but by locking the door, this alone is enough to bring you prosecuted for 'assault on person and unlawful detention'. ”

　　"Even if, as you say, the law cannot do anything to you," said Holmes, opening the lock and pushing open the door, "but no one deserves a greater punishment than you." If the young girl had a brother or a friend, they should whip you in the spine! Damn it! Seeing the grim sneer on the man's face, he blushed with rage and continued, "This is not my responsibility to my client, but there is a hunting whip at hand, and I think I will still smoke it well..." He walked quickly to get the whip, but before the whip arrived, there was a lifeless ping-pong ping-pong footstep on the stairs, the heavy hall door slammed, and we saw Mr. James Wendybank running desperately on the road through the window.

　　"What a cold villain!" Holmes laughed as he spoke, and sat back down in his armchair, "That guy has sinned so many times that one day he will be sent to the guillotine for the most heinous crime." In several ways, the case is not boring. ”

　　"I can't fully understand your reasoning steps yet." I say. "Well, obviously the first step should be thought of: this mr. Hosmer Angel's act of breaking the monster must have been deliberate, and it is equally clear that the only person we see who can really benefit from this incident is this stepfather. Then look at the fact that two people have never been together, but always when one person is not there the other person appears. This is very enlightening. Sunglasses and broken voices, like the fluffy beard, hint at camouflage. These are also enlightening. He signed it with typing, and it could be inferred that she was so familiar with his handwriting that she recognized it even the smallest handwriting she saw. This strange practice deepened my suspicions. You see, all these isolated facts and many details come together, all pointing in the same direction. ”

　　"How do you confirm them?"

　　"Once the culprit is recognized, it is easy to confirm the crime. I know the business house where this man works. As soon as I received the printed search notice, I removed from the appearance features described in the notice that might have been the result of disguise—beard, glasses, voice—and sent the search to the firm, asking them to tell me whether the physical features of the disguised part were similar to those of the people in their firm who were traveling abroad. I had noticed the peculiarities of the typewriter, and I wrote to him at his office and asked him if he would come here. As I expected, his reply was typed on a typewriter, and from the reply I could see all the same subtle but characteristic faults of the typewriter. The same post office sent me a letter from the Westhouse Markbank Firm on Fincho Break street, saying that the physical description was perfectly consistent with aspects of their employee, James WendyBank. That's the whole story. ”

　　"What about Miss Sutherland?"

　　"If I had told her about it, she wouldn't have believed it." You may remember a Persian proverb: 'Dispel the delusions in a woman's heart, and it is as if the tiger snatches the milk from under the claws of the tiger.' Hafez's teachings are as rich as Horace's, and Hafez's human sophistication (1) (2) is as profound as Horace's. ”

　　(1) Muslims who can recite the entire Koran. - Translator's Note

　　(2) Ancient Roman lyric poet. - Translator's Note

　　Copper beech case

　　"A man who loves art for the sake of art," said Sherlock Holmes, tossing aside the advertising page of the Daily Telegraph, "often derives the greatest pleasure from the least important and most mundane images, Watson, and I am pleased to observe that you have grasped this truth from the records you have made sincerely for our case." And, I say for sure, sometimes you polish it. What you highlight is not the detection and sensational interrogations of the many famous cases in which I have been involved, but the cases in which the circumstances themselves may be trivial and trivial, but which have room for inference and logical synthesis, which I have included in my special scope of study. ”

　　"However," I said with a smile, "I cannot fully excuse myself for the sensationalism of the record. ”

　　"Maybe you're wrong," he commented, commenting on the use of tongs to set a fiery red slag to light his long cherry-picked pipe, which he often used to replace the pottery pipe when he was arguing rather than thinking about it. "Maybe you're wrong in always trying to liven up your every account, rather than limiting your task to rigorous reasoning about the causality of things—which is actually the only notable feature of things."

　　"I see that I am quite impartial to you in this matter," I said somewhat coldly, for I had observed more than once that there was a strong element of selfishness in the peculiar character of my friend.

　　"No, it's not that I'm selfish or arrogant," he replied. As always, he was not directed at what I said but at my thoughts. "If I ask for a very fair treatment of my craft, it is because it is not a personal thing... An external object that does not belong to me. Sin is a common thing, logic is a rare thing. So what you should be writing in detail should be logic rather than crime. But you've reduced what should have been a course to tell a series of stories. ”

　　It was a cold early spring morning. After we had breakfast, the two sat facing each other next to the roaring fire in the old house on Baker Street. A thick fog billowed in, filling the rows of dark brown houses. The opposite window, in this deep yellow fog, faintly became a dark, unformed patch of blurred things. We lit the gas lamp, which shone on the white tablecloth, on the slightly glittering porcelain bottles and metalware, because the table had not yet been cleaned up. Sherlock Holmes had been silently flipping through the advertising columns of a series of newspapers all morning, and at last he had apparently given up on looking up, and seemed to teach me a lesson with some emotion about the shortcomings of my writing.

　　"At the same time," he said, after a slight pause, while sitting and smoking his long pipe and staring at the fire, "no one will accuse you of using alarmist brushwork, for a considerable proportion of these cases in which you are so interested are not criminal in the legal sense. The little things I tried to help the king of Bohemia, the strange experience of Miss Mary Sutherland, the inexplicable questions about the crooked-lipped man, the aristocratic bachelor affair, these were all things that were outside the scope of the law. You try to avoid sensationalism, but I fear your account may be too cumbersome. ”

　　"It may turn out that way," I replied, "but the approach I have adopted is novel and interesting." ”

　　"Well, my good friend, to the public, the vast unobservant public, they simply cannot see from a man's teeth that he is a weaver, or from a man's left thumb that he is a typewriter, and they will not pay attention to the subtle differences between analysis and reasoning! But if you do write too cumbersomely, I can't blame you, because the era of big crimes is over. A person, or at least a person who has committed a criminal offense, no longer has the adventurous and innovative spirit of the past. My own small business seems to have degenerated to the point of an agency, handling only some lost pencils for others and giving advice to young girls in boarding school. I think, in any case, my career has irretrievably plummeted. The note I received this morning, I think, marks the lowest point of my career. Read this! He threw me a letter that had been crumpled together.

　　This was sent from Montaggiles the night before yesterday and reads as follows: Dear Mr. Holmes:

　　I am anxious to consult with you about whether I should accept my appointment as a governess. If it is convenient, I will visit you tomorrow at ten thirty.

　　Your loyal Violet Hunter

　　"Do you know this young lady?"

　　"I don't know."

　　"It's already half past ten."

　　"Yes, I'm sure she's pulling the doorbell."

　　"It may be a lot more interesting than you think, and you remember that the sapphire incident began with a study that seemed like a momentary interest, and then it developed into a serious investigation, and this may be the same thing."

　　"Well, I hope so. Our mystery will soon be solved, because if I am not mistaken, the parties will come. ”

　　Before the words could be heard, a young lady entered the room when the door opened. She was plainly dressed, but neatly dressed, her face was vibrant and clever, she had freckles like a bird's egg, and she moved quickly, like a woman with a good idea for people.

　　"I'm sure you'll forgive me for bothering you," she said as my companion got up to greet her, "and I have a very strange thing on my magnetism, and since I don't have parents or any other relatives to consult, I think maybe you'll be kind enough to tell me what to do." ”

　　"Please sit down, Miss Hunter, and I will gladly do my best to serve you."

　　I could see that Holmes had a good impression of the new client's mannerisms and mannerisms, and he looked at her with an inquisitive eye, and then calmed down, drooping his eyelids, his fingertips against his fingertips, and listening to her state what had happened.

　　"I was a governess at Colonel Spence Munro's house for five years," she said, "but two months ago the Colonel was ordered to work in Halifax, Nova Scotia; he took a few of his children with him to the Americas, and I lost my job." I went to the newspaper to look for a career and applied for a job according to the job advertisement in the newspaper, but I did not succeed, and finally the small savings I had saved began to dry up, and I had reached the point where I had no way and did not know how to be good.

　　"There's a well-known governess agency in the West End called Vestaway, and I visit every week to see if there's a suitable career for me. Vestaway is the name of the founder of the business, but the manager is actually a Miss Storper. She sat in her own small office, with the women seeking employment waiting in the front reception room and being led into the room one by one, while she checked the register to see if there was a suitable occupation for them.

　　"Well, last week when I was ushered into that little office as usual, I found that Miss Stoper was not alone there, an unusually stout man, with a large and thick chin hanging from his throat layer by layer, sitting smiling at her elbows, with a pair of glasses on her nose, and was carefully observing the women who had come in. When I walked inside, he shook his chair a little and quickly turned to face Miss Stopper.

　　"That's OKAY,' he said, 'I can't ask for anything better than that.' Great! Great! He seemed to be very enthusiastic, rubbing his hands and showing the most kind look. His kind demeanor makes people feel very happy to see.

　　"You're here to find a career, miss?"' he asked.

　　"Yes, sir."

　　"Being a governess?"

　　"How much salary are you asking for?"

　　"I used to be four pounds a month at Colonel Spence Munroe."

　　"Oops, oops! Tut! Harsh... It's harsh enough,' he shouted as he held out a pair of fat hands, waving in the air like an agitated man. How could someone give such a pitifully small amount to such an attractive and accomplished lady? ”

　　"My attainments, sir, may not be as deep as you think,' I said, 'A little French, a little German, a little music and painting..."

　　"Sigh, sigh!' He shouted, 'These are not the main questions, the key is do you have the manners and demeanor of a cultured woman?' To put it simply, if you do not have it, then you are not suitable for educating a child who may one day play a great role in the history of the country; but if you do, then why is there a gentleman who is so kind as to ask you to condescend to receive a salary of less than three figures? Mademoiselle, your salary here starts at one hundred pounds a year. ”

　　"You can imagine, Mr. Holmes, such treatment seems almost unbelievably good to a poor man like me! But this gentleman, probably seeing the suspicious expression on my face, opened his wallet and took out a banknote.

　　"It is also my habit," he said, smiling sweetly so sweetly that only two shiny slits remained in his wrinkled white face, 'advance half of my salary to my young ladies so that they can cope with the sporadic expenses of travel and buy some clothing!"]

　　"I don't think I've ever met someone so touching, so considerate. Since I was still in debt to the small traders at that time, this advance payment to me was of course very convenient for me. However, throughout the process of contact, I always felt that some places were unnatural, and decided to learn more about the situation and then take a stand.

　　"May I ask where you live, sir?" I say.

　　"Hampshire, lovely rural area. Copper beech, it's only five miles from Winchester. What a loveliest of the countryside, my dear young lady, and one of the loveliest old country houses. ”

　　"What about my position, sir?" I'd love to find out what works. ”

　　"A little kid—a cute little mischievous little naughty one who was just six years old. Yo, if you can see him killing cockroaches with his slippers! Snap! Snap! Snap! You haven't had time to blink your eyes yet, and three have already been reimbursed! He leaned back in his chair and smiled so hard that his eyes narrowed into a slit again.

　　"I was a little surprised by the kid's interest in playing, but his dad's laughter made me think maybe he was just joking.

　　"So, my only job, I said, is to take care of a child?"

　　"No, no, not the only, not the only, my dear young lady," he said aloud, 'your task should be, and I am sure your wise mind will realize, to listen to any orders of my wife, if they are what a young lady is supposed to obey.' You see, there's no difficulty at all, isn't it? ”

　　"I would love to make myself useful to you."

　　"That's great, now talk about clothing, for example, we like fashion, you know, there are fashion fetishes, but the heart is not bad. If we gave you a costume for you to wear, you wouldn't object to our little quirks, would you? ”

　　"No,' I said, rather surprised by his words.

　　"If you are told to sit here, or to sit there, it will not make you unhappy, will it?"

　　"Ah! No, it won't. ”

　　"Or before you get to us, let you cut your hair short?"

　　"I couldn't believe my ears. My hair, Mr. Holmes, as you can see, is quite dense, and has a special chestnut-like color, quite artistic, and I could never have dreamed of sacrificing it so casually.

　　"I'm afraid it's very unlikely," I said. His little eyes kept watching me eagerly, and as I said this, I noticed a shadow glide across his face.

　　"I am afraid that this is quite necessary," he said, 'this is my wife's little fetish, the ladies' fetish, and you understand, Mademoiselle, that the ladies' hobbies must be taken into account, so are you not going to cut your hair?"

　　"Yes, sir, I really can't." I replied firmly.

　　"Ah, very well, then this matter is forgotten. It's a pity, because you're a good fit for everything else. In that case, Miss Stoper, I'd better look at a few more of your other young girls here. ”

　　The female manager was sitting there busy reading the papers and hadn't said a word to either of us. But now she looked at me impatiently, and I wondered if she had lost a considerable commission because of my refusal.

　　"Would you rather leave your name on the register?"' She asked me.

　　"If you like, Miss Stopper."

　　"Alas! In fact, registration doesn't seem to be very useful, and since you have rejected the best opportunity offered in this way," she said sharply, 'you can hardly expect us to try to find another opportunity for you, goodbye, Miss Hunter.' She rang the bell on the stage, and a servant came in and took me out.

　　"Well, Mr. Holmes, I went back to my apartment, opened the cupboard, and saw that there was no more food for the night, and that there were two or three more bills on the table, and I began to ask myself if I had done something very stupid. After all, if these people have strange fetishes and want others to obey their most extraordinary demands, then they are at least prepared to pay for their eccentricities. It's rare for a governess in England to be able to get a salary of a hundred pounds a year, and besides, what good is my hair for me? Many people look more energetic after cutting their hair short, and maybe I should cut my hair short. The next day, I thought I was probably wrong, and one day I was sure I was wrong. When I was almost about to overcome my arrogance and go back to the introductory office to ask if the place was still vacant, I received a handwritten letter from the gentleman. I brought it with me, and I'll read it to you.

　　Near Winchester, Copper Beech Dear Miss Hunter:

　　Thanks to Miss Stopper's kindness in giving me your address, I wrote from here to ask if you had reconsidered your decision. My wife is eager for you to come because my description of you has become very attractive to her. We would rather give you thirty pounds a quarter, or one hundred and twenty pounds a year, to compensate for the little inconvenience our habits may cause you. After all, these requirements are not too harsh on you. My wife prefers a particularly dark iron blue and wants you to wear this color indoors in the morning, but you don't need to pay for it yourself, because we have a dress that was originally for our dear daughter Alice (now Philadelphia, USA), and as far as I can see, this dress fits you very well. Secondly, as for sitting here or there, or having a pastime in the prescribed way, this will not inconvenience you. Regarding your hair, this is undoubtedly a pity, especially in a brief meeting with you and I can't help but appreciate its beauty. But I'm afraid I have to stick to that, and the only hope of an increase in salary may be enough to compensate for your losses. As for the responsibility of taking care of children, that is very easy. I hope you must come, and I will come to Winchester in a carriage to pick you up. Please inform me of the train you are taking.

　　Your faithful Jeffro Rucastle."

　　"This is the letter I have just received, Mr. Holmes, and I have decided to accept this position, however, I think it would be better to tell you the whole story before taking this last step, and ask you to think about it on your behalf."

　　"Well, Miss Hunter, now that you've made up your mind, let's do it." Holmes said with a smile.

　　"But you didn't persuade me to reject it?"

　　"I admit I don't want to see one of my own sisters apply for this position."

　　"What exactly does that mean, Mr. Holmes?"

　　"Well, I don't have the material, I can't say it, maybe you already have your own ideas."

　　"Oh, I seem to have only one possible explanation. Rucastle seems to be a very kind and good-tempered person, will his wife be a madman? So he wanted to keep it a secret so that she wouldn't be sent to a mental hospital. So he has to take various measures to satisfy her fetishes to prevent her neurotic attacks? ”

　　"It's a plausible explanation, in fact, it could be the way it is, it's a plausible explanation. But in any case, for a young lady, it was not a good family. ”

　　"But the money is very much!" Mr. Holmes, the money is very much! ”

　　"Well, yes, of course that salary is high... Too high. That's exactly why I'm worried, why they're going to give you a hundred and twenty pounds a year, and they can choose one for forty pounds, and there must be something very special behind that. ”

　　"I think I told you the situation, and if I asked you for help later, you would understand what was going on." And, I think if you were my backer, I would be bolder. ”

　　"Ah, you can go with this thought, and I assure you that your little problem may become the thing that will be of greatest interest to me in a few months. Here are some characteristics that are obviously very strange if you yourself feel doubts or encounter danger..."

　　"Danger? What dangers do you foresee? ”

　　Holmes shook his head solemnly, "If we can be sure of it, it will not be dangerous. "But whenever, day or night, send a telegram and I'll help you right away." ”

　　"That's enough," she said, rising lively from her chair, her face flushed with sorrow. "I can go to Hampshire with peace of mind now, and I will write to Mr. Rucastle at once, cut off my poor hair tonight, and leave for Winchester tomorrow morning." After saying a few words of thanks to Holmes, she said goodnight goodbye to both of us and hurried out.

　　"At least," I said as we heard her walk down the stairs with agility and determination, "she seems to be a young girl who is very good at taking care of herself." ”

　　"She needs this," said Holmes gravely, "if we do not hear from her many days later, I would be dead wrong." ”

　　Soon after, my friend's prophecy was fulfilled. Two weeks passed, and during this time I often found that my mind had been turning in her direction, wondering what kind of incredible human misdirection this lonely girl had strayed into. Unusual salaries, strange conditions, easy positions, all this shows that it is a little unusual, although I am not sure whether the matter is a momentary habit or a conspiracy, and this man is a philanthropist or a villain. As for Holmes, I saw that he used to sit for half an hour, frowning, alone there, but when I mentioned it, he waved his big hand. "Material! material! material! He shouted impatiently, "Without clay, I can't make bricks!" But in the end he often muttered that he would never let his sister accept such a position.

　　A telegram finally arrived in our hands late one night. I was about to go to bed, and Holmes was about to settle down to do the chemical research he was fascinated by all night—usually in which case he always bent over a test tube or a curved-neck bottle when I left him at night to do a test, and the next morning when I went downstairs for breakfast I found him still there—he opened the yellow envelope, read the contents of the telegram, and threw it at me.

　　"Check the train schedule to Bradshaw right away," he said, then turned around and went on his chemistry again.

　　The call was short and urgent: (the telegram said) please come to the Black Swan Hotel in Winchester at noon tomorrow. Definitely coming! I've exhausted my mind.

　　Hunter

　　"Will you come with me?" Holmes raised his eyes to look at me and asked.

　　"I'm willing to go."

　　"Then check the train timetable."

　　"There's a bus at half past nine," I looked at the Bradshaw I was looking for, "and it arrives in Winchester at eleven thirty. ”

　　"That's right, so maybe I'd better postpone my acetone analysis, because tomorrow morning we'll have to be at our best mental and physical strength."

　　At eleven o'clock the next day, we were already on our way to the old capital of England, and Holmes had only been burying his head in the morning paper along the way, but after we had crossed the Hampshire border, he threw down the newspaper and began to enjoy the scenery. It's an ideal day in spring, with the azure sky dotted with floating white clouds, drifting leisurely from west to east. The sun was shining brightly, but the early spring weather was still crisp and fresh, refreshing and doubling. As far away as the overlapping post around Aldershot unfolds a rural landscape, with red and grey farmhouse roofs looming everywhere from the verdant new green.

　　"What a fresh and beautiful view!" Coming from the smoky Baker Street, I was greeted with a new and enthusiastic exclamation.

　　But Holmes shook his head solemnly.

　　"Do you know, Watson," he said, "that everything I observe must be connected with the particular question I am exploring, and that is one aspect of my character that should be cursed. You witness these houses scattered among the trees, and you are impressed by their beautiful scenery. But when I saw them, the only thought that came to my mind was that the houses were isolated from each other, which would make the crimes that might occur there go unpunished. ”

　　"Oh my God!" I cried out, "Who would have thought of associating crime with these lovely old country houses?" ”

　　"They often fill me with a certain sense of terror, and this creed of mine, Watson, is based on my experience, which is to say that no more terrible crime can take place in the most despicable and vicious alleys of London than in this delightfully beautiful countryside."

　　"You freaked me out!"

　　But it is obvious that in cities, the pressure of public opinion can do what the law cannot. No alley is so bad that not even the cries of an abused and beaten child or the crackling of a drunkard's beating arouse the sympathy and anger of the neighbors. Moreover, the entire judiciary is so close at hand that a complaint can be brought into action, and the crime and the dock are only one step away. But look at these lonely houses, each built in their own fields, and most of them are inhabited by ignorant villagers who know very little about the law. Think about it, vicious and brutal acts, hidden evils, may happen in these places year after year without being noticed. If the young lady who had asked us for help had lived in Winchester, I would never have bothered her, but the danger was that she lived in the countryside five miles away. It is clear, though, that her personal safety is not at stake. ”

　　"No, if she can come to Winchester to meet us, it means she can get out of her way."

　　"It's not bad, she has her own freedom."

　　"So, what exactly is going on? Can you explain? ”

　　"I have envisioned seven different interpretations, each of which applies to the facts as we know it so far. But which of them is correct can only be decided after getting the new news that is undoubtedly waiting for us. Well, that's the church tower over there, and we'll soon hear all that Miss Hunt is going to tell us. ”

　　The "black swan" is a famous inn on this main road, not far from the train station. There we saw the young lady waiting for us, who had booked a room and whose lunch had been set on the table.

　　"How happy I am to see you coming!" She said enthusiastically, "Thank you both very much; but I really don't know what to do, and your guidance will be very valuable to me." ”

　　"Please tell us what happened to you."

　　"I will speak, and I must hurry, for I have promised Mr. Rucastle to return before three o'clock, and this morning I asked him for leave to come to town, but he did not know why I had come out."

　　"Please tell everything in order," Holmes said, stretching his long, thin legs to the fire, calmly ready to listen.

　　"First of all, in general, I can say that in fact I have not been abused by Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle, and it is fair for me to say so to them. But I couldn't understand them, and I was very uneasy about them. ”

　　"What can't you understand about them?"

　　"They justify their actions. But you can know everything from what happened. When I first came here, Mr. Rucastle picked me up here and took me to Copper Beech in his single carriage. Here, as he said, the environment is beautiful. But the house itself is not beautiful. Because it was a large, boxy house, painted white, but eroded by the damp and bad climate, it all showed spots of stains. It was surrounded by a field, woods on three sides and a sloping flat on the other, which led to the Southampton Highway, which turned about a hundred yards in front of the house. The site in front of the house belonged to the house, and all the surrounding woods were part of the protective woods of the Lords of Sadthon. A clump of copper beech grows directly opposite the door of the hall of this room, so the place is named after the copper beech.

　　"My employer drove me, and he was as amiable as ever, and he introduced me to his wife and children that night. Mr. Holmes, what we have speculated about in your house on Baker Street is not true. Mrs. Rucastle was not crazy, and I saw her as an idyllic woman, pale, much younger than her husband. I reckon she's less than thirty; as for him, it won't be less than forty-five. I learned from their conversations that they have been married for about seven years. He turned out to be a widower, and the only child his ex-wife left behind was his daughter, who had gone to Philadelphia, USA. Rucastle told me privately that his daughter had left them because she had an unreasonable antipathy toward her stepmother. Since his daughter's age would not be less than twenty, I could reasonably imagine that she must be in a very difficult situation with his father's young wife.

　　"Mrs. Rucastle, in my opinion, is very ordinary, both in her spiritual and her appearance, and she has left me with neither a good nor a bad impression, that she is an insignificant person. It was easy to see that she was devoted to her husband and her young son. Her pale gray eyes looked around from time to time, and as soon as she sensed any of their small needs, she tried to meet them as much as possible. He was also very good to her, just in a reckless and rough way. Overall, the two of them seemed to be a happy couple. However, this woman, she still has some secret sorrows, she will often be immersed in deep thoughts, full of sorrow. More than once I had accidentally seen her shed tears, and I sometimes thought it must be her child's badness that forced her to be so preoccupied. Really, I've never seen such a completely spoiled, partial and bad little guy. He was smaller than his peers, but his head was so large that it was not commensurate with his body. He seemed to have either had wild seizures all day or was sullen with his face stretched. His only pastime seems to be the torture of animals that are weaker than him. He showed great intelligence in catching mice, birds and insects. But I still don't talk about this little fellow; Mr. Holmes, who in fact has little to do with my affairs. ”

　　"I'm happy to hear all the details you've talked about." My friend said, "Whether you think they have anything to do with you or not." ”

　　"I try not to miss any important links. What made me most unpleasant at once in this room was the appearance and behavior of the servants. The family had only two servants, a man and his woman. Tolle was a male name, rude and clumsy, with gray hair and even a mane, and was always so drunk. On two occasions when I was with them, he was very drunk, but Mr. Rucastle seemed to turn a blind eye and was indifferent. His wife was a tall, strong woman, with an abominable face, as taciturn as Mrs. Rucastle, but nowhere near as kind as her. The couple is the most annoying couple. But luckily I spend most of my time in the nursery and in my own room. The two squares are contiguous, both in one corner of the room.

　　"After I arrived at Copper Beech, life was quiet for the first two days. On the third day, Mrs. Rucastle came downstairs after breakfast and whispered something to her husband.

　　"Ah, yes,' he turned to me, 'we thank you very much, Miss Hunter, for having cut off your hair because you accommodated our fetish. I ask you to guarantee that this does not in any way affect your appearance. Let's see if it's appropriate to wear an iron blue outfit. This dress is on the bed in your room, where you can see it, and if you would put it on, then both of us would be very grateful to you. ”

　　"The color of the dress that was there waiting for me to wear was a special dark blue. It was a superb beep material sewn, but it was a garment that could be seen at a glance. The dress couldn't have been more fitting for me, as if it were made more than my figure. Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle were very happy to see it, so happy that they were even a little too enthusiastic. They were waiting for me in the living room. The living room is very spacious, occupying the entire front half of the house, with three floor-to-ceiling windows, and the middle window holds a chair with the back facing the window. They wanted me to sit in this chair. Then Mr. Rucastle paced back and forth on the other side of the room and began to tell me a series of the funniest stories I had ever heard. You can't imagine how funny he was, and I was tired of laughing. But Madame Rucastle obviously had no sense of humor, not even smiling, but just sitting there with her hands on her knees, her face both melancholy and anxious. After about an hour, Mr. Rucastle suddenly announced that it was time to start the day's work, and I could change my clothes and go to the nursery to find little Edward.

　　"Two days later, in exactly the same situation, I performed again. I changed my clothes again and sat by the window again, listening to my owner tell his endless ridiculous story. Again, I couldn't help but laugh. Later, he handed me a novel with a yellow cover and moved my chair to the side, lest my own shadow obscure the book. He begged me to read it aloud to him. I started reading a chapter for almost ten minutes, and suddenly just as I was reading the half-middle of a sentence, he told me to stop and change my clothes.

　　"It is not difficult for you to imagine, Mr. Holmes, how difficult it is for me to understand what such an extraordinary performance really means. I sensed that they were always careful to put my face behind that window, because my heart was filled with the desire to see what was going on behind my back. At first, this seemed impossible. But I quickly came up with a solution. I had a hand mirror broken, and I had a clever move to secretly hide a broken mirror in a handkerchief. In my next performance, while I was laughing, I held the handkerchief in front of my eyes and fiddled with it a little to see everything behind me. I admit to being disappointed at first because I didn't see anything. At least my first impression was. But the second time I looked, I noticed a man with a mustache and a gray dress standing on the other side of Southampton Road, as if he were visiting in my direction, which was an important road, and there were always people on the road. But this man was leaning against the railing where we were surrounding the field, and was looking very seriously at this side. I lowered my raised handkerchief and glanced at Madame Rucastle to see that she was staring at me with the sharpest eyes. She didn't say anything, but I'm sure she had guessed that I was holding a mirror in my hand, and had seen what was going on behind me, and she immediately stood up and ae.

　　"Jeffro," she said, 'there's a mischievous guy on the road over there staring at Miss Hunter.'"

　　"Not your friend, Miss Hunter?" he asked.

　　"No, I don't know anyone here."

　　"Oops, how rude! Please turn around and wave him away. ”

　　"Of course it's better to ignore him."

　　"No, no, then he'll be wandering around here a lot." Please turn around and wave him like this to walk away. ”

　　I did as I was told, and at the same time Madame Rucastle pulled down the curtains. It was a week ago, and since then I no longer sit by the window and wear that blue dress, nor do I see the man on the road again. ”

　　"Please go down," said Holmes, "that your account is likely to be very interesting. ”

　　"I'm afraid you'll think it's a bit fragmented and lacking in organization. Perhaps this shows that there is no connection between the different events I have spoken of. On my first day at Copper Beech, Mr. Rucastle took me to a small outhouse near the kitchen door. As we approached, I heard a chain rattling and the sound of a large animal walking around.

　　"Look inward from here!' Mr. Rucastle pointed me in through the slit between the two plates, 'Isn't it a pretty fellow?' ”

　　I looked through the crack in the board and felt only two glowing eyes and a fuzzy body crouched in the darkness.

　　"Don't be afraid," said my proprietor, who laughed at the sight of my surprise, 'that's my mastiff, The Caro. I said it was mine, but actually only old Tolle, my breeder, could handle it. We feed it once a day, not too much, so it's always as hot as mustard. Tolle let it out every night, and if anyone who broke in without permission touched its sharp teeth, it was only god's mercy. Look at God's face, you must not use any excuse to cross that threshold at night, because if you do that, you will be killed. ”

　　"This warning is not unfounded. Two nights later, I happened to look out of my bedroom window at about two o'clock in the morning. That night the moon was shining brightly, and the lawn in front of the house was shining silver, as bright as day. I was standing there indulging in this peaceful and beautiful scenery when I suddenly became alert to something moving in the shadow of a copper beech tree. When it appeared in the moonlight, I could clearly see what it was. It turned out to be a giant dog the size of a calf with a brownish yellow, wide and sagging jawbone, a black mouth and large protruding bones. It walked slowly across the lawn and disappeared in the shadows of the other corner. This terrible guard gave me a chill in my heart. I don't think any burglar could scare me like that.

　　"Now, I have a very strange thing to tell you. You know I cut my hair short in London. I put a large curly of hair I had cut off at the bottom of my box. One night, after I put my little one in bed, I started to check the furniture in the room and tidy up my own sporadic things as a pastime. There was an old wardrobe in the room, the top two drawers were unlocked, there was nothing inside, and the lower drawer was locked. I filled the upper two drawers with my clothes, but there were still many things that I could not use the third drawer, which naturally annoyed me. It occurred to me that it might have been inadvertently locked casually, so I took out a large bunch of keys and tried to open it. The first key was matched with this lock, so I opened it. There's only one thing in the drawer, but I'm sure you'll never guess what it is. It's my hair!

　　"I picked up the hair and examined it carefully. The rare color, the density, was exactly the same as mine. The impossible was in front of me. How could my hair be locked in this drawer? I opened my box with trembling hands, poured out everything inside, and pulled my own hair out of the bottom of the box. I put the two strands together, and I assure you that they are exactly the same. Isn't that bizarre? I couldn't think of a reason for that. I handed the strange head back into the drawer and said nothing to the Rucastles because I felt that it was wrong to open the drawer they had locked.

　　"You may have noticed that I am a man by nature who likes to keep an eye on things, Mr. Holmes. Soon I had a very clear outline of the whole house in my mind. One side of the box room didn't seem to be occupied at all. A door across the passage from the Tolles' house leads to the box, but the door is always locked. But one day I was going upstairs when I saw Mr. Rucastle coming out of the door with the key in his hand. Looking at his face at that time, the chubby, pleasant look I usually saw was like two people. His cheeks flushed with anger, his brows furrowed, and his temples were lined with excitement. He closed the door and hurried past me, without saying a word or looking at me.

　　"It piqued my curiosity, so when I took the child in care to the grounds for a walk, I sneaked in a circle to the other side of the house so that I could see the windows in this part of the house. There were four windows in a row, three of them were simply dirty, and the fourth pulled down the shutters and closed them. All these windows were obviously long gone, and as I strolled back and forth, occasionally glancing at them, Mr. Rucastle came up to me and seemed as pleasant and happy as ever.

　　'Ah!' He said, 'If I walk past you silently, you must not think I am rude.' My dear young lady, I have just been busy with some business. ”

　　"I reassured him that I didn't think he had offended me." By the way,' I said, 'it seems that there is a whole empty room on it, and the window panels of one of the rooms are closed.' ”

　　He seemed a little surprised, and I seemed to find him a little surprised to hear me.

　　"Photography is a hobby of mine,' he said, 'and I use the rooms over there as darkrooms.' But, oops! What an attentive young lady we met! Who would believe that? Who would believe that? He said in a joking tone. But he didn't look at me jokingly. All I saw was a look of doubt and annoyance, and I was no joke.

　　"Well, Mr. Holmes, ever since I understood that something in this room was not known to me, I was more anxious to find out. It's not so much my curiosity, and while I'm as curious as anyone else, it's a sense of responsibility, a feeling that I might be able to do something good because I've seen through the inside story of this place. People talk about women's instincts, and maybe it's women's instincts that make me feel that way. Anyway, it does feel that way. I watched closely for any opportunity to rush through this forbidden door.

　　"It wasn't until yesterday that this opportunity came. I can tell you what, in addition to Mr. Rucastle, toler and his wife had been busy with in this empty room. I once saw Tolle come out of the room with a big black cloth bag. Lately, he has been drinking heavily. He was very drunk last night. When I went upstairs, I found that the key was still in the door, and I had no doubt that he had left it there. Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle were downstairs, and the child was with them, which was a rare opportunity. I gently turned the key around, opened the door, and slipped in quietly.

　　"There was a small aisle in front of me, and this aisle was not framed or flat carpeted. The turn at the end of the aisle is at a right angle. Turning this corner there are three doors side by side, the first and third doors are open. Inside each door was an empty room, dirty and dark, one with two windows and the other with only one window, and the dust on the windows made the evening light look very dim. One of the doors was closed, and outside was a thick iron bar on an iron bed, one end locked to a ring in the wall, and the other end tied to the wall with a thick rope. The door itself was also locked, but the key wasn't there. The tightly sealed door was apparently in the same room as the closed window seen from outside. And from the faint light below it, I could still see that the room wasn't very dark. Inside, there is undoubtedly a skylight from which light can be channeled in. I stood in the aisle, staring at the sinister door, wondering what secrets were hidden inside. At this moment, I suddenly heard footsteps in the room, and in the glimmer of light from the small slit under the door, I saw a figure walking back and forth. This scene suddenly raised a fierce and nameless terror in my heart. Mr. Holmes, I was so nervous that I suddenly lost control, and I turned back and ran, as if a terrible hand was grasping my dress from behind. I ran wildly down the aisle, crossed the door, and rushed into the arms of Mr. Rucastle, who was waiting outside.

　　"Yes," he said with a smile, 'it was you, and when I saw the door open, I thought it must be you."]

　　"Ah, that scares me to death!"' I gasped and said.

　　"My dear young lady! My dear young lady! You can't imagine how affectionate and considerate his attitude was,' and what frightened you into such a way, my dear young lady? ”

　　But his voice sounded like he was coaxing a child. He went too far, and I was wary of him everywhere.

　　"I was stupid enough to go to the empty house over there,' I replied, 'but, in the dim light, how desolate it was, how terrible it was!' Scared me and ran out again. Ah, there was a terrible silence inside! ”

　　"Just some of that?' He looked at me sharply and said.

　　"What's wrong? What do you think? I asked him.

　　"What do you think I did when I locked the door?"

　　"I really don't know."

　　"It's just not letting idle people walk in, you understand?"' He still smiled with that incomparably kind look.

　　"If I had known, I would have been..."

　　"Well, well, you know now!" If you cross that threshold again with your feet...' At this point, his smile turned into a grinning grin, and a face stared at me like a devil, 'I'll throw you at the mastiff. ”

　　"I was so frightened I didn't know what to do. I think I probably sped from his side and ran all the way into my room. I couldn't remember anything until I found myself lying on the bed, trembling. Then I thought of you, Mr. Holmes. If no one gives me advice, I can't stay there anymore. I was afraid of the house, the man, the woman, the servants, even the child, all of whom frightened me. If only I could lead you there. Sure, I could have fled the house, but my curiosity was as strong as my fear. I quickly made up my mind. I'm going to send you a telegram. I put on my hat and coat and walked to the telegraph office about half a mile away; when I went back, I felt much more at ease. As I approached the door, I panicked again, lest the dog have been released. But I remembered that Buller had been so drunk and unconscious that night, and I knew that he was the only one in the house who could deal with this wild beast, so no one else would dare to risk releasing it. I sneaked in, unharmed. In the evening, I thought I would see you soon, and I was so happy that I lay in bed most of the night without closing my eyes. This morning I took a leave of absence to come to Winchester without any difficulty. But I had to hurry back before three o'clock, because Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle were going out as guests and were not at home tonight, so I had to take care of the children. Now I have told you the whole story of my adventures, Mr. Holmes. I would be very happy if you could tell me what all this means, and, most importantly, what should I do? ”

　　Holmes and I listened to this bizarre story as if fascinated. My friend stood up and paced around the room, his hands in his pockets, his face looking extremely deep and serious.

　　"Is Tolle still drunk?" he asked.

　　"Yes, I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rucastle that she couldn't do anything about him."

　　"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle are going out tonight?"

　　"Is there a basement and a sturdy lock?"

　　"Yes, that cellar where the wine is stored."

　　"Miss Hunter, judging by your handling of this matter, you can say that she is a very resourceful and brave girl. Do you think you can do another great thing? If I didn't think you were a very good woman, I wouldn't ask of you that. ”

　　"I must try it, what do you want me to do?"

　　"My friend and I arrived at Copper Beech at seven o'clock. By then the Lucastles were out. And Tolle, we hope that by then he is powerless. All that was left was Mrs. Tolle, who might call the police. If you can tell her to go to the cellar and do some errands, and then lock her in, it will be a great advantage for this matter to proceed. ”

　　"I must do this!"

　　"Superb! So let's investigate this matter thoroughly. Of course, there is only one explanation that makes sense, that you were asked there to impersonate someone who was actually imprisoned in that room, and that is clear. As for who this prisoner was, I could conclude that it was the daughter, Miss Alice Rucastle. If I remember correctly, she was said to have gone to the United States. There's no doubt that you were chosen because your height, figure, and hair were the same color as hers. Good hair is probably cut because she has suffered from some disease, so naturally you must sacrifice your hair. You see that curly hair is a complete coincidence. The man on the highway was undoubtedly some friend of hers, most likely her fiancé. And no doubt, precisely because you were dressed in that girl's clothes, and were so much like her, that whenever he saw you, he believed from your smile and later from your posture that Miss Rucastle was indeed very happy, and that she no longer needed his care. The dog was released at night to prevent him from trying to come into contact with her. All of this is fairly clear, and the most serious point in this case is the child's temperament. ”

　　"What does this have to do with children?" I suddenly called out.

　　"My dear Watson, if you as a doctor want to gradually understand a child's habits, you must start by studying his parents, and you did not expect that the reverse would be the same? I often start by studying children to gain a real understanding of the basics of their parents' character. The child's character was unusually cruel, and it was cruel for the sake of cruelty. Whether this character came from his smiling father or from his mother, as I suspected, it was doomed to be bad for the poor girl in their grasp. ”

　　"I do believe you are right, Monsieur Holmes," cried our client, "and the countless events in retrospect make me very sure that you have said them to the point, and let us not delay for a moment, and hurry to the rescue of the poor man!" ”

　　"We have to be careful because we're dealing with a very cunning person. We can't do anything before seven o'clock, and we'll be with you at seven o'clock, and it won't be long before we can solve the mystery. ”

　　We did what we said, and at seven o'clock we arrived at the copper beech and parked the two-wheeled carriage in a small inn on the side of the road. The black leaves on the bushes, like polished metal, sparkled in the glow of the setting sun. It was enough to make us recognize the house, even if Miss Hunt did not stand on the doorway steps and smiled at our words.

　　"Are you all set up?" Holmes asked.

　　Then there was a loud crashing sound from somewhere downstairs. "It was Mrs. Tolle in the cellar," she said, "and her husband was lying on the kitchen carpet snoring like thunder asleep. It was his string of keys, exactly the same as Mr. Rucastle's. ”

　　"You're doing a beautiful job!' Mr. Holmes shouted enthusiastically, "Now that you lead the way, we will see the end of this black deed." ”

　　We went upstairs, unlocked the door, and walked down the aisle straight to the obstacle described by Miss Hunt. Holmes cut the rope and removed the thick iron bar that was blocking it, and then he tried to open the door lock one by one with the string of keys, but none of them could be opened. There was not a single movement in the room, and in the silence Holmes's face darkened.

　　"I'm sure we didn't come too late," he said, "Miss Hunter, I think it's better that you don't go in with us." Now, Watson, you put your shoulders against it and see if we can get in. ”

　　It was an old, rickety door, and as soon as we put it together, the door collapsed at once. The two of us rushed through the door to see that it was only an empty room, with no furniture except a simple cot, a small table, and a basket of clothes, and the skylight above was open, and the prisoners were gone.

　　"There's some trick in it," said Holmes, "and this fellow probably guessed Miss Hunter's intentions and took the victim away first." ”

　　"How did you get it out?"

　　"From the skylight. We'll soon be able to see how he got it out. "He climbed to the roof, 'Oh, that's right,' he cried, 'here's a long light escalator with one end leaning against the eaves, and that's what he did. ”

　　"But it's impossible," said Miss Hunter, "when the Rucastles went out, the escalator wasn't there. ”

　　"He ran back to move again, and I told you he was a cunning and dangerous figure. I now hear footsteps coming upstairs. If that wasn't him, it would be weird. I thought, Watson, you'd better get your pistol ready too. ”

　　Before he could utter a word, he saw a man already standing in the doorway, a very fat, stout man with a thick stick in his hand. As soon as Miss Hunter saw him, she screamed and leaned against the wall. But Sherlock Holmes leaned forward and faced him calmly.

　　"You villain!" He said, "Where is your daughter?" ”

　　The fat man looked around with his eyes and looked at the open skylight above.

　　"I'm going to ask you that!" He screamed, "You thieves! Thief spy! I've caught you, haven't I? You have fallen into the palm of my hand, and I will make you feel enough!" He turned and ran downstairs as quickly as he could.

　　"He went looking for that dog!" Miss Hunter said aloud.

　　"I have a revolver!" I say.

　　"Better shut the door," said Holmes, and we rushed downstairs together. Before we reached the hall, we heard the barking of the hounds, followed by a terrible scream and the terrible sound of the hounds biting people. A red-faced, elderly man stumbled out the side door waving his arm.

　　"Oh my God," he shouted, "someone put the dog out. It hasn't been fed in two days, fast, fast, or it's too late! ”

　　Holmes and I hurried out and turned the corner, with Tolle following us closely behind. I saw a huge hungry beast over there, a black mouth clenching at Mr. Rucastle's throat, and he was rolling miserably on the ground, and I ran up and fired a shot and opened his head. It fell down, its sharp white teeth still embedded in his fat, wrinkled neck. It took us a lot of effort to separate the man from the dog and carry him into the house. Although man is still alive, he is already a terrible blur of flesh and blood. We put him on the couch in the living room and sent a frightened Tolle to send a letter to inform his wife. I did everything I could to alleviate his pain, and we all gathered around him when the door opened and a tall, thin woman came in.

　　"Mrs. Tolle!" Miss Hunter shouted.

　　"Yes, Mademoiselle, Mr. Rucastle came back and released me first, and then went up to you. Ah, Mademoiselle, it's a pity you didn't let me know your intentions. Because I could have told you that it would have saved you so much effort. ”

　　"Ha!" Holmes watched her keenly and said, "Obviously, Mrs. Tolle knows more about this matter than anyone else. ”

　　"Yes, sir, I do know. I am now preparing to tell you everything I know. ”

　　"Well, sit down and let's listen. Because I have to admit that there are still a few points in this matter that I still don't quite understand. ”

　　"I'll make it clear to you," she said, "I could have done it a long time ago, if I had come out of the cellar sooner." If this matter is going to go to the police court, remember that I am on your side as a friend. I am also a friend of Miss Alice.

　　"She was never pleasant at home, and Miss Alice had been depressed ever since the time of her father's remarriage, and she was neglected at home and had no say in anything. But before she met Mr. Fowler at a friend's house, her situation was indeed not very bad. From what I have heard, according to the will, Miss Alice has her own rights, but she is so quiet and tolerant that she never utters a word about this right, and leaves everything to Monsieur Rucastle. He knew it was reassuring to be with her, but once a husband was going to squeeze in, he would ask for something that should be given to him within the scope of the law. So her father thought it was time to stop it. He asked his daughter to sign a note stating that he could use her money whether she was married or not. Because she was reluctant to sign it, he kept making trouble until she had encephalitis and was on the verge of death for six weeks. Eventually she recovered, but was already skinny and had cut off her beautiful hair; but none of this could change her young boyfriend's heart! He remained loyal to her for twelve points. ”

　　"Ah," said Holmes, "I suppose you have been kind enough to tell us that we have made it clear to us, and as for the rest I can deduce: Mr. Rucastle, therefore, I dare to assert, has taken the form of imprisonment?" ”

　　"Specially invited Miss Hunter from London to get rid of Mr. Fowler's unpleasant entanglement?"

　　"Exactly, sir."

　　"But Monsieur Fowler was a man of perseverance, and as a good sailor had to do, he sealed off the house. Later, after meeting you, I persuaded you with money or other means to convince you that you and his interests were in agreement. ”

　　Mrs. Toller said peacefully, "Mr. Fowler is a gentleman who speaks kindly and has generosity at hand. ”

　　"By this means, he managed to make your good man not short of wine, and let you prepare an escalator as soon as you went out as soon as you went out."

　　"You're right, sir, that's the way it is."

　　"We owe you a thank you, Mrs. Toller," said Holmes, "for you have undoubtedly clarified all that has troubled us." Now that the surgeon and Mrs. Rucastle of the village were coming, I thought, Watson, that we'd better escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester, for I seemed to sense that our legal status here was in question. ”

　　So the mystery of the unlucky house with the copper beech in front of the door was solved. Mr. Rucastle was spared death, but he was already a man of insanity, and it was only because of the care of his devoted wife that he was able to survive. Their old servants still live with them. Presumably they knew that the Rucastle family had gone on too much to dismiss mr. Rucastle. Mr Fowler and Miss Rucastle were married the day after they had left, in Southampton, applying for a charter. Mr. Fowler now holds a government position on the island of Mauritius. As for Miss Violet Hunt, my friend Holmes made me feel a little disappointed. Since she was no longer a central figure in his problem, he no longer expressed further interest in her. She is currently the principal of a private school in the Walsall area. I believe she is very successful in her work in education.

　　Crooked lip man

　　Isa Whitney, the brother of the late dean of St. George's University Seminary, Elias Whitney, was addicted to opium smoke and had a great addiction. As far as I know, he fell into this vice because of a stupid strange idea that occurred while studying at the university. At that time, because he read de Quincy's depiction of dreams and passions, he soaked the tobacco (1) grass in an opium tincture and smoked it later, hoping to obtain the effect of dream and passion. Like many people, he later realized that it was easy to quit this addiction, so he became addicted to drugs for many years and could not extricate himself, and his relatives and friends were deeply disgusted with him, but at the same time they were not without pity. I still remember his expression vividly: his face was blue and yellow, his eyelids were stretched, his pupils were unfocused, and his body was curled up in a chair, showing a bad luck of the king and grandson.

　　One night in June 1889, someone was ringing a bell outside the door, and that was when the average person began to yawn and look up at the clock. I immediately sat up from my chair, and my wife put her needlework on her knee with a look of displeasure on her face.

　　"There are patients," she said, "and you're going to get a doctor again." ”

　　I sighed because I had been busy all day, exhausted, and had just returned from outside.

　　(1) Thomas DeQuincey, 1785–1859, British writer. - Translator's Note

　　I heard the opening of the door and the urgent voice, then the sound of a quick walk through the carpet. Then suddenly our door opened wide. A woman, dressed in dark velvet clothes with a black veil over her head, came into the house.

　　"Please forgive me for bothering you so late!" She began to speak, and then she could not restrain herself, and she walked forward quickly, put her arms around my wife's neck, and sobbed on her shoulders. "Oh! I'm so unlucky! She cried and said, "How much I need to be able to get a little help!" ”

　　"Ah!" My wife said, at the same time lifting her veil, "It turned out to be Kate Whitney." You're scaring me, Kate! I couldn't have imagined it was you when you came in! ”

　　"I don't know what to do, so I'll just come to you." That's always the case. Whenever people were worried, they came to my wife, like the birds of the night flocking to the lighthouse to find comfort.

　　"We are delighted to have you here! However, you have to drink a little water, sit calmly for a while, and then tell us what is going on, or I will send James to bed first, do you think? ”

　　"Oh! No, no! I also need the doctor's guidance and help. It was about Isa, who hadn't been home for two days. I was so scared of him! ”

　　It was not the first time for me as a doctor, as an old friend and classmate of my wife, to hear her tell us about the distress her husband had brought her. We try to find something like this to comfort her, for example, does she know where her husband is? Is it possible for us to get him back for her?

　　It seems possible. She received accurate information that he had recently been addicted to an opium store in the easternmost part of the old town, as soon as he had a seizure of his addiction. So far, he had never been out for a day, and every night he convulsed and collapsed and returned home. But this time the ghost has been obsessed for forty-eight hours. Now he was lying there, lying with the social scum on the docks, swallowing the clouds and taking drugs. Or even sleeping soundly, so as to ease up from the role of opium. She would find him there, she was sure of that. The location is the Golden Hotel in Swan Gate Lane. But what can she do? How could she, a young and cowardly woman's family, break into such a place and drag away her husband, who was in the midst of a group of gangsters?

　　That's the case, and of course there's only one way to do that. I wonder if I'll accompany her to that place? With that, another thought, why should she go? I'm a medical consultant to Isa Whitney, and in this connection, I have some influence over him. If I had gone alone, I might have been able to solve it better. I promised her that if he really was in the same place she told us, I would hire a rental carriage to take him home within two hours. So, within ten minutes, I had left my armchair and the comfortable living room and ridden a two-wheeled pony, on the way east. I thought it was a little bizarre at the time, but it was only later that I could tell how bizarre it was.

　　However, at the beginning of my adventure, there was not much difficulty. Swan Gate Lane is a dirty alley hidden behind tall dock buildings on the north bank of the east bank of London Bridge. Between a shop selling cheap ready-to-wear clothes and a juniper hotel, near a steep staircase leading down to a dark cave-like opening, I found the tobacco house I was looking for. I told the carriage to stop and wait, and I went down the stairs. The middle of the stone staircase of this staircase has been dented by the feet of the drunken men who are constantly flowing. Hanging from the door were oil lamps with flickering lights. By the light, I touched the latch and went into a deep, low room filled with thick hazel opium smoke and rows of wooden tatami mats against the wall, like sailor's cabins under the foredeck of an immigrant ship.

　　Through the faint light, you can faintly see people lying on wooden beds, some shrugging their shoulders and bowing their heads, some crouching on their knees, some with their heads back, some jaws facing the sky, and they look at the new guests from all corners with lost eyes. In the dark shadows of the buildings, there were many places that emitted small red auras, shimmering, flickering on and off. This is the scene when burning opium is sucked in a metal pipe pot. Most lay quietly, some talked to themselves, and others whispered in a strange, low, monotonous voice—a conversation that sometimes went on and on, muttering, talking about his own heart, and taking what was said to him as the wind in his ears. At one end in the distance, there was a small charcoal brazier, and the charcoal fire was roaring. On a three-legged wooden bench next to the basin sat a tall, thin old man with his fists on his cheeks, elbows on his knees, and his eyes staring at the charcoal fire.

　　As I entered the house, a bloodless Malay man rushed up to me, handed me a smoking gun and a cigarette, and beckoned me to an empty bed. "Thank you. "I'm not here to stay long," I said, "and I have a friend, Mr. Aisa Whitney, here. I'm going to talk to him. ”

　　Someone to my right squirmed and shouted. I saw through the dim light that Whitney was pale, haggard, scruffy, and staring at me with wide eyes.

　　"Oh my God! It turned out to be Watson! "He said that the way he answered seemed pitiful and despicable, and every nerve in his body seemed to be in a state of tension." Hey Watson, what time is it? ”

　　"It's almost eleven o'clock."

　　"What day is eleven o'clock?"

　　"Friday, June 19."

　　"Oh my God! I always thought it was Wednesday. Today is Wednesday, what are you scaring people into doing? He lowered his head, buried his face between his arms, and began to cry out in pain.

　　"I tell you, it's Friday, yes. Your old age has been waiting for you for two days. You should be ashamed! ”

　　"Yes! I should be ashamed, but you're mistaken, Watson, because I've only been here for a few hours, smoking three pots, four pots... I can't remember how many pots I smoked. But I'm going back with you. I shouldn't have let Kate worry and be afraid, poor little Kate! Help me! Did you hire a carriage to come? ”

　　"Yes, I hired one, wait for it."

　　"Then I'll just take the car and go." However, I must be in debt. Look how much I owe, Watson. I had no spirit at all. I couldn't take care of myself at all. ”

　　I walked through the narrow aisle between the two rows of wooden beds where people were lying, holding my breath, lest I smell the disgusting and dizzy stench of opium, and looked everywhere for the treasurer. As I walked past the tall man by the charcoal brazier, I felt a hand suddenly lash out at the hem of my blouse, and someone whispered, "Go over and look back at me!" These two sentences clearly fell into my ear drums. I looked down, and it could only come from the old man next to me. However, at this time, he was still sitting there with full concentration as before. He was skinny, wrinkled, aged, and a smoking gun fell between his knees, as if slipping off because he was tired and weak. I took two steps forward, and when I looked back, I was taken aback. Fortunately, I tried my best to restrain myself from shouting out. He also turned around, and no one could see him except me. The shape of his body had stretched out, the wrinkles on his face had disappeared, and his dazed eyes were shining brightly. At this time, the person sitting by the charcoal brazier looking at the surprised me and grinning was none other than Sherlock Holmes. He secretly motioned for me to come to him, and then turned around, and when he turned to the crowd on the side, he immediately showed a hesitant and casual dragon bell old look.

　　"Sherlock Holmes!" I whispered, "What the hell are you doing here?" ”

　　"Try to keep it as quiet as possible," he replied, "and I have a sharp ear." If you're willing to do a big favor and send your addict friend who opened you, I'd be glad to have a few words with you. ”

　　"I have a little carriage outside."

　　"Then, please let him sit back!" You can rest assured of him, because he obviously has no spirit to cause trouble anymore. I suggest you write another note, and the coachman will bring it to your wife and say that we are getting along again. You wait outside for a while, and I'll be out in five minutes. ”

　　It is difficult to refuse any request of Sherlock Holmes, for his request is always extremely clear and always made with such a clever moderation. In short, I felt that as soon as Whitney boarded the carriage, my mission was effectively completed. As for the rest, it would be nice to be able to work with my old friend on an extraordinary adventure, and adventure is a matter of habit in life. It took me a few minutes to write the note, pay the bill on Whitney's behalf, take him out to the car, and watch him ride away in the dark of night. Soon an old man came out of the opium smokehouse, and I came into the street with Sherlock Holmes. About two streets away, he was always hunched over, rocking east and west, waddling along. Then he looked around quickly, stood up straight, and burst into a burst of laughter.

　　"Watson, I reckon," he said, "you imagine I've added an aphrodisiac to injecting cocaine and gas to some of the little problems that you don't object to from a medical point of view." ”

　　"Of course I was surprised to see you there."

　　"But it won't be more surprising than when I found you there."

　　"I'm looking for a friend."

　　"And I'm here to find an enemy."

　　"Enemy?"

　　"Yes, it is a natural enemy of mine, or, I will call it one of my natural catches. Simply put, Watson, I'm doing a very extraordinary reconnaissance. I intend to find a clue in the nonsense of these smokers, as I have done before. If anyone in the smokehouse recognized me, my life would be ruined in an instant. I've been there to scout before for my own purposes. The rogue Indian Ah San who opened the smoke house had vowed to seek revenge on me. At the corner near Paul's Pier there was a trapdoor at the back of the house, which could tell the story of something strange that passed there on a dark and windy night in the moon. ”

　　"What! Are you talking about corpses? ”

　　"Alas, it's a corpse, Watson. If we can get a thousand pounds from every unlucky egg that was killed in that smokehouse, we will become rich men. This is the most sinister place along the river. I was worried that Neville St. Clare would be able to get in and out. But our trap should be here. He put two index fingers between his upper and lower lips and blew a sharp whistle, and the same signal whistle echoed in the distance, and soon he heard a rumbling of wheels and the sound of horses' hooves.

　　"Now, Watson," said Holmes. At this time, a high-flying two-wheeled one-wheeled carriage drove out of the shadows, and two yellow lights were emitted by chandeliers on both sides. "Would you like to come with me?"

　　"If I can help you."

　　"Oh, a reliable partner is always useful; the man who remembers it has nothing to say. I have two beds in my room in Sugien. ”

　　"Cedar Garden?"

　　"Yes, that's Mr. St. Clair's house. I lived there when I was scouting. ”

　　"Then, where is it?"

　　"In Kent, not far from Lee Town. We're going to run twenty miles. ”

　　"I don't know anything."

　　"Of course it's all, all the situations, and you'll understand it soon." Jump on it! Well, John, don't bother you anymore, it's half a crown. Tomorrow awaits me, about ten (1) o'clock. Let go of the horse rope, goodbye. ”

　　He gently whipped the horse, and the carriage sped up, passing through a series of dark and silent and deserted streets, and then the road gradually widened, and finally sped over a bridge with railings on both sides, and the dark and heavy river under the bridge flowed slowly. Looking ahead, it was a monotonous wasteland full of bricks and stucco, and the four fields were clear. Only the heavy and regular footsteps of the patrol police, or the occasional singing and shouting of some lingering revelers on the way home, occasionally break the silence. A pile of scattered clouds drifted slowly across the sky, and a star or two here and there shone faintly in the cracks of the clouds. Holmes drove forward in silence. His head hung down to his chest, as if deeply in thought. I sat down next to him, wondering what was going on with this new case, which had expended so much energy, but did not dare to interrupt his thoughts. We drove for miles to the edge of the suburban villa, when he shook his body, shrugged his shoulders, and lit his pipe, showing his smug spirit.

　　"You have a gift for remaining silent, Watson," he said, "and it makes you a very rare companion." I assure you that this is true: talking to each other is a very important thing for me, because my own ideas are not necessarily satisfactory to all of them. I can't think of what the lovely young woman should say to her tonight when she comes to the door to greet me. ”

　　(1) (United Kingdom) Old five-shilling coins with crowns. - Translator's Note

　　"You forgot I knew nothing."

　　"Before we arrived in Lee Town, I happened to have time to explain to you the circumstances of this case. It seems surprisingly simple, but I'm a little confused. There are no doubt that there are many clues, but I can't get a clue. Now, let me tell you the facts of the case concisely, Watson, and maybe you can see a glimmer of light in the darkness that is for me. ”

　　"Well, just say it."

　　"A few years ago—or more precisely, in May 1884—a gentleman named Neville St. Clair came to Lee. This man is obviously very rich. He bought a large villa, renovated the garden beautifully, and lived a luxurious life. He gradually became friends with many people in his neighborhood. In 1887, he married the daughter of a local winemaker and gave birth to two children. He has no career, but has investments in several companies. He went into town every morning as usual and returned by train from Cannon Street at 5:14 p.m. Mr. St. Clare is now Chinese New Year's Eve seven years old, has no bad habits, and is a good husband and father. I may add that all his debts, as far as we have ascertained, amount to eighty-eight pounds and ten shillings, and that he has two hundred and twenty pounds in the Capital County Bank. Therefore, there is no reason to think that he will be distressed by financial problems.

　　"Last Monday, Mr. St. Clair went into town much earlier than usual. Before leaving, he said that there were two important things to do, and that he would bring back a box of blocks for his younger son. Coincidentally, on that same Monday, shortly after he left the house, his wife received a telegram saying that a small valuable parcel— which she had been waiting for — had been sent to the Aberdeen Transport Office for her to pick it up. Well, if you're familiar with the streets of London, you'll know that the company's office is on Fresno Street. That street has a fork in the street that leads to Swan Gate Alley, where you met me tonight. Mrs. St. Clair went into town after lunch, bought something at the store, went to the company office, took out the package, and walked through Swan Gate Alley at the return station, at exactly 4:35 p.m. Do you get it? ”

　　"Hear very well."

　　"If you remember, it was a very hot Monday, and Mrs. St. Clair was slow, looking around, hoping to hire a small carriage, because she found that she did not like the streets around her. As she was walking all the way through Swan Gate Alley, she suddenly heard a shout or cry, and saw her husband looking down from the window on the third floor, as if waving to her, and she was frightened and cold. The window was open, and she could see his face clearly, and according to her his agitated look was terrible, and he waved at her desperately, but suddenly disappeared in an instant, as if there was an irresistible force behind him that pulled him back. One of the anomalies that her woman's keen eyes had suddenly seen was that although he was wearing the same black tunic he had when he entered the city, he had no stiff collar around his neck and no tie on his chest.

　　Sure that something had happened to him, she sped down the steps—for this house was exactly the same smokehouse I had found tonight—and broke into the front room of the house, and as she crossed the house and was trying to ascend the stairs to the second floor, at the top of the stairs she met the Indian I had mentioned and was pushed back by him. Then a Danish assistant came and pushed her into the street. Filled with endless doubts and shocks, she hurried out along the alley, and unexpectedly, she was very lucky, and on the streets of Fresno, she met an inspector and several patrols who were on their way to work. The inspector and the two patrols followed her back. Despite repeated obstructions by the owner of the tobacco shop, they entered the room where They had just found Mr. St. Clair. There was no sign of him being there in that room. In fact, on the entire floor, I saw no one but a lame, abominable-looking guy who seemed to live there. The guy and the Indian swore in unison that no one had ever been to the front room on that floor that afternoon. Their denials, which confused the Inspector, and almost thought that Mrs. St. Clair had seen the wrong person; then she suddenly shouted, pounced on a small pine box on the table, lifted the lid, and poured out a large pile of children's toy blocks, which he had promised to take home.

　　This discovery, combined with the crippled man's apparent look of panic, made the inspector realize the gravity of the situation. All rooms were carefully examined and it turned out that everything was related to an abominable crime. The front house is simply furnished and used for living. This room leads to a small bedroom, which looks out from the small bedroom, facing the back of a section of the dock. Between the dock and the bedroom window is a narrow stretch that dries up at low tide and floods at least four feet deep at high. The bedroom window was spacious and opened from below. When I inspected the room, I found that there were traces of blood on the window frame and a few drops on the bedroom floor. In the front room, a curtain was slammed open and behind it was found The full set of clothes of Monsieur St. Clare, except for the tunic. His boots, his socks, his hat and his watch — all there. There were no traces of atrocities on the clothes, nor was there any sign of Mr. St. Clair. He must have obviously run out of the window, for he had not found any other way out. Judging by the ominous blood stains on the window frames, it was unlikely that he would want to swim and escape, because the tide was at its peak at the time of the tragedy.

　　"Let's talk about the gangsters who seem to be directly involved in this case." That Indian Asan was a well-known bad man. Still, according to Mrs. St. Clair, her husband was already at the foot of the stairs just a few seconds after her husband appeared at the window. At best, this man was an accomplice to this crime. He argued that he knew nothing, and he affirmed that he knew nothing of all the actions of the upstairs tenant Hugh Boone. He could not say why the whereabouts of the gentleman's clothes had appeared in the room.

　　"That's all there is to it for the Indian boss. The sinister cripple, who lived on three floors, must have been the last to see Monsieur Saint Clair with his own eyes. His name was Hugh Boone, and his ugly face was well known to people who often came to London's Old Town. He made a living begging, and to avoid police control, he pretended to be a vendor of wax matches. Not far down Needle and Thread Street, on the left-hand side, you may have noticed a small corner, where he sat every day, cross-legged, and put a pitiful few boxes of matches on his lap. Because of his mournful appearance, the small money he had given him fell like raindrops into a greasy leather hat placed beside him on the sidewalk. I had observed this fellow more than once before I thought of the need to know about his begging situation; but it was only after I had learned about his begging that I was deeply amazed at how much he had gained in a moment. You know that his image is so unusual that no one passing by him can look at him without looking at him. A fluffy red hair; a pale face made even more ugly by a terrible scar that, as soon as it was contracted, rolled up the outer edge of the upper lip; a dog-like chin; a pair of sharp black eyes, which contrasted sharply with the color of his hair; all this showed that he was different from the average beggar. Moreover, his intelligence is also obviously superior, because passers-by have something to say whenever they throw him something tattered. Now we know that he was the one who boarded in the smokehouse, and the one who last witnessed the gentleman we were looking for. ”

　　"But, a cripple!" I said, "How about he alone can take a young and strong man?" ”

　　"He was a cripple in terms of limping; but, in other respects, he was clearly a man of strength and well nourishment. Of course, your medical experience will tell you that Watson, the weakness of one limb, can often be compensated for by the exceptional strength of other limbs. ”

　　"Please go on."

　　Mrs. St. Clair fainted at the sight of blood on the window frame, and was escorted home by a patrol car companion, because her presence at the scene did not help the investigation. Inspector Barton, who was in charge of the case, examined the house carefully, but found nothing that inspired the case. A mistake was made, which was not to immediately arrest Hugh Boone, giving him a few minutes to possibly confess to his Indian friend. However, this error was quickly corrected. He was arrested and searched, but no evidence was found that could convict him. It is true that there were some blood spots on the sleeve of his right hand in his undershirt, but he pointed to the fourth finger of his left hand near the place where the nail had been cut by the knife, and said that the blood had flowed from there; and that he had gone to the window before, and that the blood spots found there had undoubtedly come from. He adamantly denied ever seeing Mr. St. Clare and vowed that the clothes found in his room were a mystery to him as much as the police. And to Mrs. St. Clair's statement that she did see her husband in front of the window, he said she must have gone mad, or she was dreaming. Later, despite his loud protests, he was taken to the police station. The inspector, on the other hand, stayed in the room, hoping to find some new clues after the tide had receded.

　　"Actually found it, though on that mudflat they didn't find what they were afraid to find." Because it wasn't Neville St. Clair himself who was found, but his shirt. This top is left unobstructed on mudflats after low tide. Guess what they found in their pockets? ”

　　"I can't imagine it."

　　"Yes, I don't think you could have guessed. Each pocket was filled with penny and half penny—four hundred and twenty-one pennies and two hundred and seventy half pennies. No wonder this top has not been swept away by the tide. But the human body is a different matter. At low tide between that house and the pier, the water was turbulent. It seems likely that the heavy tunic remained, but the stripped body went into the river. ”

　　"However, as far as I know, they found that all the other clothes were in the house, so could it be that he was wearing only one shirt?"

　　"No, sir, but this matter may justify itself. Suppose Boone had pushed Neville St. Clair out of the window—but no one had seen it with his own eyes—what would he do again? Of course, he would immediately think of destroying the clothes that betrayed the truth. Then he would grab his clothes and throw them out the window. And when he throws it out, he will think: that shirt will float with the water and cannot sink. His time was scarce, for he had heard the lady quarreling downstairs in order to rush upstairs, and perhaps he had heard from his Indian associates that a group of patrols was hurrying down the street in this direction. This is no longer the case. At once, he rushed to the place where he hid the silver money he had accumulated from begging. When he saw the coins, he grabbed as many as he could and stuffed them into his pockets as much as possible, so as to make sure his jacket was deep under the water. After throwing the tunic out, he wanted to dispose of the other clothes in the same way, if he hadn't heard the hurried footsteps downstairs. But by this time the patrol had already come upstairs, and he only had time to close the window. ”

　　"It does sound like it could be."

　　"Well, let's just assume it's a useful hypothesis, because there's no better hypothesis than that." I have already said that Hugh Boone was arrested and put in the police station, but he could not come up with anything to confirm his past guilt. For many years he was known as a man who specialized in begging for a living. His life seemed very quiet and harmless. Now that things are in front of us, the problems that should be solved are still far from being solved, as in the past. The questions are: What is Neville St. Clair doing in the smokehouse? What happened to him there? Where is he now? What does Hugh Boone have to do with his disappearance? I confess: In my experience, I cannot recall a single case that at first glance seems simple, but has arisen so many difficulties. ”

　　While Sherlock Holmes was recounting this strange series of things, our carriage was speeding through the outskirts of the great city until it finally left the scattered houses behind. The carriage then proceeded along the country roads lined with fences. As soon as he finished speaking, we were driving between two sparsely deserted villages, and there were a few windows with shimmering lights.

　　"Now we have reached the outskirts of Lee," said my partner, "and on our short journey we have come into contact with three counties of England, starting from Middlesex, passing through a corner of Surrey, and finally reaching Kent. Did you see the light in the bush? That's Cedar Garden. At the lamp sat a woman, who was so anxious that her quiet ears had no doubt heard the sound of our horses' hooves. ”

　　"But why didn't you take this case on Baker Street?"

　　"Because there are so many things to do scouting here. Mrs. St. Clair has graciously arranged two rooms for me to use. You can rest assured that she will give a warm welcome to my friend and partner. Watson, I was afraid to see her until I got news of her husband. Here we are. ”

　　We parked our car in front of a large villa, which is located in the middle of a garden. Then a horseman ran over and grabbed the horse's head. I jumped out of the car and followed Holmes up a small curved gravel path that led to the front of the building. As we approached the front of the building, the door opened and a little woman with white blond hair stood in the doorway, dressed in a light-colored mulle dress with a little pink fluffy and transparent silk tulle trimming at the neck and wrist of the dress. She stood in the light of the lamp, holding the door with one hand and lifting the other hand halfway, and she was extremely eager. She bent down slightly, probing forward, staring longingly at us, her lips slightly open, as if she were asking an inquiry.

　　"Huh?" She shouted, "What? Then she saw that we were two people, and at first she cried out in hope, but when she saw my partner shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders, she turned to a groan of pain.

　　"Isn't there good news?"

　　"Isn't there any bad news?"

　　"Thank goodness! Please come in! You must have worked hard, tired all day. ”

　　"This is my friend, Dr. Watson. He has helped me tremendously in the past few cases, and I was fortunate to have him come and join me in the investigation. ”

　　"I'm glad to see you," she said, shaking my hand warmly, "if you consider how suddenly the blow we've been hit has come, I'm sure you'll forgive us for what we're not doing well." ”

　　"My dear lady," I said, "I am a veteran of many battles, and even if I were not, you would not have to be polite to me. To you or to my old friend, if I can help, then I am so happy. ”

　　"Monsieur Holmes," said Mrs. St. Clair, by which time we had entered a brightly lit dining room with a cold meal on the table, "I would love to ask you a straightforward question or two, and beg for a frank answer. ”

　　"Sure, ma'am."

　　"Don't worry about my emotions. I'm not hysterical, and I don't faint without moving. I just want to hear your honest opinion. ”

　　"At what point?"

　　"If you tell the truth, do you think Neville is still alive?"

　　Sherlock Holmes seemed embarrassed by the question. "Honestly, say it!" She repeated, standing on the carpet staring down at him as he sat on his back in a wicker chair.

　　"Well, ma'am, to be honest, I don't think so."

　　"You think he's dead?"

　　"Murdered?"

　　"I don't think so. Maybe. ”

　　"On what day was he killed?"

　　"Monday."

　　"Then, Mr. Holmes, perhaps you would like to explain what I have received from him today, but what is the matter?" Holmes jumped up from his chair as if he had been electrocuted.

　　"What?" He growled.

　　"Yes, today," she stood smiling, holding aloft a small note.

　　"Can I have a look?"

　　"Of course you can."

　　He grabbed the note eagerly, spread it out on the table, moved the lamp over, and examined it intently. I left my chair and looked at the piece of paper from behind him. The envelope was rough and stamped with the gravesand postmark, and the date of the letter was the day, or the day before, because it was long past midnight.

　　"The handwriting is scrawled," muttered Holmes, "surely it's not your husband's handwriting, madame." ”

　　"Yes, but he wrote the letter."

　　"I also think that whoever writes the envelope, he has to ask for the address."

　　"How can you say that?"

　　"This man's name, you see, is written entirely in black ink, and after writing it, it dried itself. The rest of the words are gray-black, which indicates that they were written on blotting paper. If they are written together and then sucked on ink-blotting paper, then some words will not be dark black. The person writes the name of the person first, and after a while, writes the address, which only means that he is not familiar with the address. It's a small thing, of course, but nothing is more important than some little things. Now let's look at the letter. Ha! There was also something attached to the letter! ”

　　"Yes, there's a ring, his stamp ring."

　　"Can you tell it's your husband's handwriting?"

　　"It's a kind of handwriting of his."

　　"One?"

　　"It was a kind of handwriting he wrote in his haste. It was different from his usual handwriting, but I could fully recognize it. ”

　　My dear:

　　Don't be afraid. Everything will get better. A big mistake has been made, and it may take some time to correct it. Please be patient.

　　Neville

　　The letter was written in pencil on the title page of an eight-open book with no water marks on the paper. Well! It was sent out of Gravesund from Gravesand today by someone with a very dirty thumb. Ha! The lid of the envelope was glued with glue, and if I'm not mistaken, the person who wrote the letter had been chewing tobacco. Ma'am, are you sure this is your husband's handwriting? ”

　　"I'm sure. This is the word neville wrote. ”

　　"The keepsake was sent from Gravesend today. Oh, Mrs. Clair, the clouds have cleared, though I should not risk saying that the danger has passed. ”

　　"But he must still be alive, Mr. Holmes."

　　"Unless the trail is a clever forgery to lure us astray." That ring, in the final analysis, proves nothing. It could have been taken from his hand! ”

　　"No, no, it's his handwriting!"

　　"It was good. However, it may have been written on Monday and sent out today. ”

　　"That's possible."

　　"With that said, a lot of things can happen during this time."

　　"Oh, don't pour cold water on me, Mr. Holmes. I knew he was in trouble. Between the two of us, there is a keen sense of empathy. In case of misfortune to him, I should have felt it. On the day I finally saw him, he cut his hand in the bedroom, and I was in the dining room, and I knew in my heart that something was wrong, so I immediately ran upstairs. You think I would react so quickly to such a small matter, and how could I be indifferent to his death? ”

　　"I have seen so much of the world that I cannot but wonder that the impression a woman gets may be more valuable than the assertion of an analytical reasoner. In this letter, you do have a strong piece of evidence to support your views. But if your husband is alive and able to write, why is he still out there and not coming home? ”

　　"I can't imagine how this is going on, it's incomprehensible."

　　"Didn't he say anything when he left you on Monday?"

　　"Were you surprised to see him in Swan Gate Alley?"

　　"I was very surprised."

　　"Is the window open?"

　　"Then maybe he can still call you?"

　　"Yes."

　　"As far as I know, he only made an unclear shout."

　　"Yes."

　　"Do you think it's a cry for help?"

　　"Yes, he waved his hands."

　　But it could also be a shout of surprise. The surprise he caused by seeing you unexpectedly might also cause him to raise his hands, right? ”

　　"It's possible."

　　"Do you think he was dragged back?"

　　"He disappeared so suddenly."

　　"He probably jumped back all at once. You don't see anyone else in the room, do you? ”

　　"No, but the terrible man admitted that he had been there, and that Indian Asan was at the foot of the stairs."

　　"Exactly. As far as you can see, is your husband still wearing his usual clothes? ”

　　"But there's no hard collar or tie. I saw him clearly with his neck bare. ”

　　"Did he mention Swan Gate Alley before?"

　　"Never."

　　"Did he ever show any signs of smoking opium?"

　　"Thank you, Mrs. St. Clair. These are the points I want to make clear. Let's have some dinner and go to bed, because tomorrow we may have to be busy all day. ”

　　A spacious and comfortable house with two beds for our use. I soon slipped into the bed, exhausted after the night's running. But Sherlock Holmes was such a man: when he had a problem in his mind that could not be solved, he would think about it for days or even weeks, without sleeping or eating, reorganizing the various situations he had mastered, and examining the problem from all angles, until the water came out, or he was convinced that the material he had collected was not sufficient. I soon learned: he was about to sit all night. He took off his shirt and vest, put on a wide blue nightgown, and scoured the room, tucking together the pillows on his bed and the cushions on the sofa and armchairs. He used these things to make an oriental sofa. He sat cross-legged on it, with a strong smell of shredded tobacco and a box of matches in front of him. In the dim light, I saw him sitting there, holding an old pipe carved from Ou Shi Nangen in his mouth, staring blankly at the corner of the ceiling. Blue smoke swirled around his mouth and rose. He was silent and motionless. The light shone brightly, illuminating his eagle-like determined face. I fell asleep and he sat like this. Sometimes I woke up screaming and waking up from a dream, and he still sat like this. Finally, I opened my eyes, and the summer sun was shining into the room. The pipe was still in his mouth, and the light smoke was still swirling and rising. Thick smoke filled the house, and the pile of slab tobacco that had been seen the night before was gone.

　　"Are you awake, Watson?" he asked.

　　"Wake up."

　　"How about catching a car in the morning and going out to play?"

　　"Okay!"

　　"Well, get dressed. No one got up, but I knew where the pony boy slept, and we would soon get the carriage out. He chuckled as he spoke, his eyes shining, as if he had been judged by the one who had been pondering the night before.

　　I looked at the table as I dressed. No wonder no one was alive yet, it was only 4:25. I had just finished getting dressed when Holmes came back and said that the horseman was in his car.

　　"I'm going to test my little theory," he said, pulling on his boots, "Watson, I think you're standing right now in front of one of the dumbest fools in all of Europe!" I should have been kicked from here to Charring crosses! But I think I've now found the key to the lock that opened the case. ”

　　"Where?" I asked with a smile.

　　"In the bathroom," he replied, "oh, I'm not kidding. "He saw that I was a little incredulous and went on." I've just been there, and I've taken it out and put it in a soft bag made by Gladstone. Let's go, man, let's see if the key is right or not. ”

　　We walked down the stairs as lightly as possible, came out of the room, and basked in the bright morning light. The wagon was parked on the side of the road, and the untied horseman was waiting at the horse's head. As soon as the two of us jumped into the car, we sped off down the London Boulevard. There were several large rural carts moving around on the road, carrying vegetables into the city, but the rows of villas on both sides of the road were still silent and dead, like the city in a dream.

　　"In some places it seems that this is a strange case," said Holmes, spurring the horse forward with a whip, "and I confess that I was once blind like a mole." However, although it is too late to learn smart, it is still better than not learning. ”

　　As we drove through the streets of Surrey, the first people in town to wake up had just slept and looked out the window at the dawn. The carriage crossed the Waterloo Bridge, sped past Wellington High Street, then turned sharply to the right and came to Boulevard Street. Holmes was well known to the police officers, and two patrols at the door saluted him. One of the patrols took the horse's head, and the other led us in.

　　"Who's on duty?" Holmes asked.

　　"Inspector Breztrit, sir."

　　"Ah! Hello Brezterett! "A tall, tall, fervent inspector walked down the stone slope, wearing a duck-tongued beanie and a jacket with coiled buttons." I want to talk to you privately, Breztrit. ”

　　"All right, Mr. Holmes. Come to my house. ”

　　It was a small office-like room with a thick classified register on the desk and a telephone protruding from the wall. The inspector sat down at the table.

　　"What do you want me to do, Mr. Holmes?"

　　"I'm here for the beggar Hugh Boone. This person was charged with connection with the disappearance of Mr. Neville St. Clair lee. ”

　　"Yes, he was brought here to await trial."

　　"I already know that. Is he here now? ”

　　"In a single cell."

　　"Is he disciplined?"

　　"Oh, not messing around at all. But this villain is dirty. ”

　　"Dirty?"

　　"Yes, we can only do it to get him to wash his hands. His face was as black as a pot maker. Well, when his case is settled, he will have to take a shower according to the prison rules. I think, when you meet him, you'll agree with what I said about him needing a shower. ”

　　"I'd love to meet him."

　　"Would you like to see him?" That's easy. Follow me. You can leave this bag here. ”

　　"No, I think I'd better hold it."

　　"Well, please come with me!" He led us down a corridor, opened a latched door, descended a spiral staircase, and led us down to a gray-painted corridor with walls, flanked by a row of cells.

　　"The third door in his right hand is his cell," said the inspector, glancing inside.

　　"He's asleep," he said, "and you can see clearly. ”

　　The two of us looked in through the barrier, and the prisoner was lying facing us, asleep, breathing slowly and deeply. He was of medium build, dressed in coarse-grained clothes commensurate with his trade, and a close-fitting dyed shirt emerged from the cracks in his tattered tunic. Indeed, as the Inspector said, he was so filthy and filthy that he could not be more filthy. But the dirt on his face could not hide his abominable ugliness: from the side of his eyes to his chin there was a wide old scar that contracted and lifted the side of his upper lip upwards, three teeth exposed, as if he had been howling, and a fluffy red hair that covered his eyes and forehead low.

　　"It's a beauty, isn't it?" The inspector said.

　　"He really needs a wash," said Holmes, "and I thought of an idea that he could wash it, and I took it upon myself to bring in some guys." As he spoke, he opened the soft bag made by Gladstone and took out a large bath sponge, which surprised me.

　　"Hey, hey! You're such a joker! The inspector laughed softly.

　　"Well, if you're willing to do a great job and quietly open this cell door, we'll soon make him look more decent."

　　"Okay, then why not?" The inspector said, "He wouldn't add glory to the Cloth Street Detention Center like this, would he?" He slipped the key into the lock, and we all quietly walked into the cell. The sleeping guy leaned over and fell back to sleep. Holmes bent over the jug, dipped the sponge wet, and rubbed it up and down and left and right the prisoner's face.

　　"Let me introduce you," he shouted, "and this is Mr. Neville St. Clair of Lee, Kent." ”

　　I've never seen anything like this in my life. The man's face peeled off a layer of skin like a bark. The rough brown is gone! A terrible scar that had been sewn across his face and the crooked lips that showed an abominable sneer were gone. The pile of unkempt red hair fell off in one fell swoop. At this time, sitting up on the bed was a pale, frowning, handsome-looking person, with black hair and slippery skin. He rubbed his eyes, stared around, sleepy-eyed, and didn't know why. Suddenly he realized that the matter had been revealed, and he threw himself on the bed with a scream and buried his face in the pillow.

　　"Oh my God!" The inspector cried, "Really, he's the one who went missing." I recognized him from the photo. ”

　　The prisoner turned around and put on a resigned, uncaring posture and said, "Even so," he said, "May I be accused of any crime?" ”

　　"Accuse you of killing Neville St. ... Oh, unless they treat this case as a suicide attempt, they won't charge you for this crime. The inspector grinned and said, "Well, I've been a policeman for twenty-seven years, and I deserve the prize this time." ”

　　"If I were Monsieur Neville St. Clair, then obviously I have not committed any crime. As a result, I was detained illegally. ”

　　"Not to sin, but to make a big mistake!" Holmes said, "If you can trust your wife, you will do better." ”

　　"It's not my wife, it's my children," said the prisoner in a groaning voice, "God for good, I don't want them to be ashamed of what their father did." Oh, my God! How embarrassing it is to talk about it! What can I do? ”

　　Holmes sat beside him on the bed and patted him kindly on the shoulder.

　　"If you ask the court to find out about it," he said, "of course it's inevitable that it will be publicized." However, as long as you can convince the police authorities that this is not a matter sufficient to bring a complaint against you, I see no reason why you must make the details of your case public in the newspaper. I am sure that Inspector Breztrit will write down the records you have told us and submit them to the relevant authorities. In this way, the case will not be brought up in court at all. ”

　　"God bless you!" The prisoner shouted enthusiastically, "I would rather endure detention, alas, or even execution than leave my painful secrets to my children as a stain on my family."

　　"You are the only ones who have heard of my origins. My father was the principal of primary school in Chesterfield, where I was extremely well educated. As a young man, I loved to travel and act, and later worked as a journalist at a London evening newspaper. One day, the editor-in-chief wanted a set of stories that reflected begging life in big cities, and I volunteered to provide a copy of it. This was the beginning of my life's adventure. I only had a cameo to collect some of the basic materials I needed to write an article. I worked as an actor, naturally learned some of the secrets of masquerade, and was known for my masquerade skills in the theater backstage. That's when I took advantage of that skill. I first painted my face in oil color, and then, in order to try to make the most pitiful appearance, I used a small strip of flesh-colored acorn, made a delicate scar, twisted my lips upwards, put on a red hair, and with appropriate clothing, I chose a place in the city's business district, ostensibly a matchmaker, but actually a ticket seller. I did this for hours, and when I came home in the evening, I was astonished to find that I had received twenty-six shillings and four pennies.

　　"When I finished writing the report, I stopped thinking about these things. It wasn't until one day, when I endorsed a bill for a friend, and then received (1) a summons asking me to pay twenty-five pounds, that I was desperate because I couldn't come up with so much money. I begged my creditor to take a half-month break and asked my employer to give me a few days off. Then I put on my makeup and went to town to beg. After ten days, I put together the money and paid off the debt.

　　"Oh, then, you can imagine, when I have learned how difficult it would be for me to make so much hard work that week, as long as I put a little oil on my face, put my hat on the ground, and sat quietly, and I could earn two pounds a day. Whether it is self-esteem or money, I think (1) endorsement. This is a term used in financial accounting, which refers to signing a guarantee on the back of a cheque or other instrument. ------------------ In the end, money prevailed, and I abandoned my life as a journalist and sat day in and day out on the corner of the street I had chosen for the first time, with copper plates stuffed into my pockets through the compassion aroused by my terrible countenance. Only one person knows my secrets. This is the owner of the lower class tobacco house where I stayed in Swan Gate Alley. There I was able to appear as a scruffy beggar every morning and become a well-dressed prodigal boy at night. This Indian assan collected my high rent, so he would keep it a secret for me.

　　"Soon I found out that I had accumulated a lot of money. I am not saying that any beggar on the streets of London earns seven hundred pounds a year (which is not enough for my average income), but I have a special talent for disguise and coping, and these two aspects are becoming more and more sophisticated, which makes me an appreciated figure in the city. All day long there were all kinds of silver coins flowing into my pocket, and if I earned less than two pounds a day, it would be bad luck.

　　"The richer I get, the more ambitious I am. I bought a house in the suburbs and later got married and started a family. No one doubted my true profession. My beloved wife only knew that I was doing business in the city, but she didn't know what I was doing.

　　"Last Monday, I had just finished my day's work and was changing clothes in the room upstairs of the smoke house, when I looked out the window and saw my wife standing in the middle of the street, her eyes looking at me, which made me panic. I screamed, covered my face with my arms, and immediately ran to my confidant, the Indian Asan, and begged him to stop anyone from coming upstairs to me. I heard her downstairs, but knew she couldn't get up for a moment. I quickly took off my clothes, put on the beggar's outfit, painted the color, put on the wig. In this way, even a wife's eyes cannot see through this disguise. But then I thought again that maybe there would be a search in this room, and that the clothes might reveal my secrets. I hurriedly opened the window, and with too much force, I broke the wound I had cut in my bedroom in the morning. Usually, the money I wanted was in a leather bag, and I had just pulled out the copper plate in it and stuffed it in my jacket pocket. I grabbed the garment, which had been heavy with copper plates, and threw it out the window. It fell into the River Thames and disappeared. The rest of the clothes were about to be thrown down, but in the blink of an eye, some policemen were rushing upstairs. I confess, and I am pleased that, in a moment I discovered that I had not been identified as Mr. Neville St. Clare, but had arrested me as a suspect in the murder of Neville St. Clair.

　　"I don't know if there's anything else I need to explain. I was determined to keep my makeup look for a long time, so I'd rather have a dirty face. I knew that my wife must be very anxious, so I took off the ring, and when the police did not care, entrusted it to the Indian assan, and hurriedly wrote a few lines to tell my wife not to be afraid. ”

　　"That letter was sent to her hand only yesterday," said Holmes.

　　"Oh my God! This week is really enough for her! ”

　　"The police watched that Indian assan," said Inspector Breztrit, "and I know very well: he will find it difficult to send the letter out without being discovered." Presumably he passed the letter on to some customer who was a seafarer, and the guy forgot about it for a few days. ”

　　"That's the way it is," said Holmes, nodding his head in agreement, "and I believe that's it. But have you never been accused of cheating? ”

　　"It's been many times, but what does a little fine mean to me?"

　　"But it has to end here," Breztrit said, "and if the police department is to go out quietly, Hugh Boone must cease to exist." ”

　　"I've sworn the most solemnly."

　　"If that were the case, I don't think I'd dig any further." However, if you repeat the next time, then we will give it all up. Mr. Holmes, I have to say how much we thank you very much for helping us clarify this case! I want to know how you came up with this answer? ”

　　"This answer," said Holmes, "is all by sitting on five pillows and smoking a board of cigarettes." I thought, Watson, if we take the car to Baker Street, just in time for breakfast. ”

　　Five orange cores

　　When I took a cursory look at the notes and records of the Sherlock Holmes detective case that I had accumulated between 1882 and 1890, I found that the strange and interesting materials in front of me were so vast that I did not know how to choose them. Some cases have been widely circulated through newspapers, but there are also cases that lack the leeway for my friends to make the most of their outstanding talents, and this remarkable talent of my friends is the main subject that those newspapers urgently want to cover. There are also cases in which his analytical skills are not exercised, and like some stories, he has become a head and an end. In other cases, he has only partially clarified the plot, and the analysis of its plot is based only on speculation or speculation, rather than on the accurate logical arguments that my friend cherished. In one of the last cases mentioned above, there is one case in which the circumstances are unusual and the ending is so disorganized that I cannot help but recount, even though some of the truths relating to this case have never been understood, and perhaps never will ever be understood.

　　In 1887 we handled a series of interesting and intriguing cases, and I keep records of these cases. In the titles of the twelve-month record of the year, there are records of the following cases: "The Parador Mansion Case"; "The Case of the Amateur Beggars", which owned a lavish and extravagant club in the basement of a furniture storehouse; "The Truth Of the Crash of the American Sailing Ship 'Sophie Anderson'"; "The Case of Grace Peterson on the Island of Ufa"; and "The Case of the Camberwell Poisoning Case". Recall that in the last case, when Sherlock Holmes clocked the watch of the deceased, it was found that the watch had been tightened two hours earlier, thus proving that the deceased had gone to bed during that time. This inference is crucial to clarifying the merits of the case. Of all these cases, I may one day outline them, but none of them are more grotesque than the one I am going to write about now, with a series of confusing circumstances.

　　It was late September, and the storms of the autumn equinox were unusually violent. All day long with furious winds, bitter rain hitting windows, and even in the city of London, which the great human beings built with their hands, we have lost the mood to engage in daily work at this moment, and have to admit the existence of great natural power. It is like an untamed beast in an iron cage, roaring through the fence of human civilization. As night fell, the storm became more intense. The wind sometimes whistled loudly, sometimes sobbed in a low voice, like the crying of a baby coming from the chimney of a fireplace. Holmes sat at one end of the fireplace, melancholy, compiling a mutual index of crime records, while I sat at the other end, immersed in reading a brilliant novel about the ocean by Clark Russell. At this time, the wind outside the house roared, and the pouring rain gradually turned into a wave-like impact, as if it echoed the theme of the novel and mixed into one. My wife was returning to her mother's house at the time, so for a few days I was an old visitor to my Baker Street house again.

　　"Hey," I said, looking up at my companion, "it's indeed the doorbell that rings. Who can come tonight? Maybe it's a friend of yours? ”

　　"Where else do I have friends besides you?" He replied. "I don't encourage people to visit."

　　"Then, is it a client?"

　　"If it is a client, the case must be very serious. If it's not serious, who is willing to come out at this moment. But I think this man is more likely to be a close friend of our landlady. ”

　　Holmes guessed wrong, for there were footsteps in the aisle, and then there was a knock at the door. He stretched out his long arms and turned the lamp that illuminated himself to the side of the empty chair where the guests would surely be seated, and said, "Come in." ”

　　Coming in was a young man, about twenty-two years old in appearance, well-dressed, neatly dressed, well-behaved, and courteous. The umbrella in his hand was full of water, and the long raincoat on his body was shining, which showed the wind and rain he experienced along the way. He looked around anxiously in the light. Then I could see that his face was pale and his eyes were downcast. This is often the look of a person who is overwhelmed by some great apprehension.

　　"I owe you an apology," he said as he put on a pair of gold-filamented nose-piercing glasses.

　　"I hope I don't bother you!" I'm afraid I've defiled your tidy room with muddy water brought from the storm. ”

　　"Give me your raincoat and umbrella," said Holmes, "and hang them on the hook, and they will dry in a moment." I think you're from the southwest. ”

　　"Yes, from Holsham."

　　"From the clay and chalk that sticks to the tip of your shoe and mixes together, I can clearly see where you came from."

　　"I'm here to ask you for advice."

　　"It's easy for me to do."

　　"And I want to ask you for help."

　　"It's not always that easy."

　　"I've been famous for a long time, Mr. Holmes. I've heard Major Prendergast say how you saved him from the Tankville Club scandal. ”

　　"Ah! Not bad. He was falsely accused of cheating with fake cards. ”

　　"He said you can solve any problem."

　　"He's gone too far."

　　"He also said you were a victorious general."

　　"I've failed four times — three times to a few men and once to a woman."

　　"But this is not the same as your countless victories."

　　"Yes, in general, I succeeded."

　　"Well, for my business, you may also succeed."

　　"Please move your chair closer to the fireplace and tell us some details about your case."

　　"This is by no means an ordinary case."

　　"The cases that come to me to talk about are unusual. I became the Supreme Court of Appeal here. ”

　　"But, sir, I would like to ask you, in your experience, have you ever heard of a series of more mysterious and inexplicable accidents than in my family?"

　　"What you said made me extremely interested," said Holmes. "Please tell us some of the main facts first, and I will ask you about the details that I think are most important."

　　The young man moved his chair forward and extended his two feet in wet shoes toward the fire.

　　He said, "My name is John Oppenshaw. As I understand it, I myself have little to do with this terrible event. That is a legacy of the previous generation, so in order for you to have a general idea of this, I must start from the beginning of this incident.

　　"You know, my grandfather had two sons—my uncle Elias and my father Joseph. My father opened a small factory in Conventry, and during the invention of the bicycle, he expanded the factory and enjoyed the patent rights of Oppenshaw's anti-break tires, so the business was very prosperous, which allowed him to sell the factory and live a rich retirement on a large sum of money.

　　"My uncle, Elias, emigrated to the United States as a young man and became a plantation owner in Florida. It is said that he runs very well. During the Civil War, he fought under Jackson and later became under Hood's command and promoted to colonel. After the surrender of The Confederate Commander Robert E. Lee, he was disarmed and returned to his plantation, where he lived for another three or four years. Around 1869 or 1870, he returned to Europe and bought a small plot of property near Holsham, Sussex. He had made a fortune in the United States, and the reason why he left the United States and returned to Britain was because he hated blacks and did not like the Republican Party's policy of giving blacks the right to vote. He was a very eccentric man, fierce and impatient, with rude speech when he was angry, and extremely withdrawn in temperament. In the years since he settled in Holsham, he has lived in seclusion, and I don't know if he has ever set foot in town. He owned a garden, and there were two or three fields around the house where he could exercise, but he often stayed out of the house for weeks. He drinks brandy heavily and is extremely addicted to smoking, but he doesn't like to socialize, doesn't want any friends, and doesn't even associate with his own brother.

　　"He didn't care about me; actually, he still liked me, because when he first saw me, I was just an eleven- or twelve-year-old. It was 1878, and he had been back for eight or nine years. He begged my father to let me live with him, and he loved me in his own way. When he was sober and drunk, he liked to fight with me and (1) play chess. He also asked me to deal with servants and some businessmen on his behalf. So by the time I was sixteen, I had become a little boss. I'm in charge of all the keys, and I can go wherever I want and do whatever I want, as long as I don't disturb his secluded life. However, there is a special exception, that is, there are many rooms on the attic floor, and only one of the rooms with old and worn-out clutter is locked all year round, and he is strictly forbidden to enter it, whether it is me or anyone else. I once had a good heart for a boy and peeked into the house from the keyhole. But there was nothing but a pile of worn-out cages and large and small bags that would be piled up in such a room.

　　"One day, in March 1883, a letter with a foreign stamp was placed in front of the Colonel's dinner plate. A letter was unusual for him, because his bills were paid in cash, and he didn't have any friends of any kind. 'From India!' As he picked up the letter, he said in amazement, "The postmark of Pondicherry!" What's going on? As he hurriedly opened the envelope, five small, dry and small orange kernels popped out and landed on the plate. I was about to open my mouth to laugh, and when I looked at his face, my smile suddenly disappeared from my lips. I saw him grinning, his eyes protruding, his face like dead ash, staring straight at the envelope that he was still holding in his trembling hand. 'K． K． K．！ He screamed and cried, 'Oh my God, oh my God, the sins are inescapable!' '

　　"I cried, 'Uncle, what's wrong?'

　　(1) Also known as the fifteen-child game, it is a game in which each side has fifteen pieces, and the dice are rolled to determine the number of chess grids. - Translator's Note

　　"'Death!' He said, got up from the table, and went back to his own room, where I was terrified. I picked up the envelope and found that on the inner layer of the envelope cover, the upper end of the glue, there were three K characters scrawled in red ink. Besides, there was nothing but the five dried orange cores. What scared him so much? As I was leaving the breakfast table, I happened to see him coming downstairs, holding in one hand an old and rusty key—which must have been reserved for the roof—and a small brass box like a money box in the other.

　　"'They do whatever they like, but I will still defeat them.'" He swore and cursed, "Tell Mary to set the fireplace in my room on fire today, and send someone to ask Lawyer Fordham of Holsham to come!" ’

　　"I did as he told me to do." When the lawyer came, I was called into his room. The fire was raging, and in the grate of the fireplace there was a pile of black fluffy paper ashes. The brass box was set aside, with the lid open, empty inside. I glanced at the box and was astonished, because the lid of the box was printed with the same three K-letters that I had seen on the envelope that morning.

　　"'John, I want you,' said my uncle, 'to be my testamentary witness.' I leave my inheritance, with all its advantages and disadvantages, to my brother, your father. No doubt it will be left to you from your father later. If you can enjoy them in peace, it is naturally good; but if you find that you cannot, then, child, I urge you to leave it to your mortal enemy. I'm sorry to leave you with such a double meaning, but I can't really say which way things will go. Please sign your name as Attorney Fordham indicates to you in his will. ’

　　"I signed the lawyer's name where he pointed out, and the lawyer took the will with him. As you can imagine, I was very impressed by this very broken thing. I thought about it repeatedly, pondered in many ways, and still could not understand the mystery. But the vague sense of horror left by this incident has always been difficult to shake off, although with the passage of time, the feeling of uneasiness has gradually eased, and nothing has happened that interferes with our daily lives. Still, I could tell that my uncle had behaved abnormally ever since. He drank more than ever, and was more reluctant to be in any social place. Most of his time was spent in his own deep chamber, and the door was locked; but he sometimes, like a drunkard, rushed out of the house, with a revolver in his hand, running wildly in the garden, screaming, saying that no one was afraid of anything, and that no one could imprison him like a sheep, whether a man or a ghost. When this fierce sudden attack had passed, he rushed back to the room in a panic, locked the door, and inserted the latch, as if a person who had infiltrated fear in his heart would bravado without face. At such moments, I saw his face, even in the cold winter moon, cold and wet, as if he had just lifted his head from the washbasin.

　　"Oh, Mr. Holmes, let me tell you how it will come to be, and I can't live up to your patience any longer. One night, he sprinkled that kind of drunkenness again and suddenly ran out, but this time, it was never gone. When we went to look for him, we found him falling face down in a green sinkhole at the end of the garden. There were no signs of violence, and the puddle was only two feet deep, so the jury concluded that it was a 'suicide' because of his usual outlandish behavior. But I had always known that he was a person who was afraid of death, and I always felt that it was difficult to believe that he would run out and seek short-sightedness. Nevertheless, things have changed. My father inherited his estate, as well as about fourteen thousand pounds in the bank. ”

　　"Wait a minute," Interjected Holmes, "I expect that what you are saying will be one of the most solved cases I have ever heard." Please tell me the date your uncle received the letter and the date he was believed to have committed suicide. ”

　　"The date of receipt of the letter was March 10, 1883. His death came seven weeks later on May 2. ”

　　"Thank you. Please go ahead. ”

　　"When my father took over the Holsham property, he, on my advice, scrutinized the locked attic for years. We found that the brass box was still there, although the contents of the box had been destroyed. Inside the lid there is a paper label that says KKK... Three uppercase letters. The words 'letters, memorandums, receipts and a record' are also written below. We believe that this indicates the nature of the documents destroyed by Colonel Oppenshaw. Apart from the many scattered documents and notebooks that recorded my uncle's life in the Americas, none of the rest of the things on the top floor mattered.

　　Some of these scattered things are accounts of the situation during the war and the glory of the brave soldiers in his duties; others are mostly politically related records of the reconstruction of the southern states after the war, and it is clear that my uncle was active in opposing the politicians sent from the north to loot with only a traveling handbag.

　　"Alas, when my father moved to Holsham, it was in early 1884, and it was not until January 1885 that everything was satisfactory. On the fourth day after New Year's Day, when we were all sitting around the table eating breakfast together, my father suddenly screamed and saw him sitting there, holding an envelope that had just been opened in one hand, and five dry orange cores in the palm of the palm of the other hand with five fingers outstretched. He always laughed at what I said about my uncle's encounter as a ridiculous story, and when he encountered the same thing himself, he was also frightened and delirious.

　　"'Ah, what the hell is going on here, John?' He asked stutteringly.

　　"My heart became as heavy as a piece of lead." This is KKK... 'I said.

　　"He looked at the inner layer of the envelope." Yes,' he cried out, that's just the letters. What's on it? ’

　　"'Put the document on the sundial,' I read from behind his shoulder at the envelope.

　　"'What file?' What sundial? He asked again.

　　"'Sundials in the garden, not anywhere else,' I said, 'the documents must be the ones that were destroyed.'"

　　"'Yuck!' He said boldly. We are a civilized world, and we will not allow such stupid things to happen!' Where did this thing come from? ’

　　"'From Dunti,' I replied, glancing at the postmark.

　　"'A ridiculous prank,' he said, 'what do I have to do with sundials and documents?' I dismiss this kind of boring thing. ’

　　"'If it were me, I'd report it to the police,'" I said.

　　"'So, I suffer, but they make them laugh, and I don't do it.'"

　　"'Then let me report it?'

　　"'No, you're not allowed to go.' I don't want to bother with such absurdities. ’

　　"Arguing with him is futile because he is a very stubborn person. I had to walk away, my heart troubled, full of premonitions that a catastrophe was coming.

　　"On the third day after receiving the letter, my father left home to visit an old friend of his, Major Fribodi. He is now the commander of a fortress at The Park Cidang Mountain.

　　I was happy for his visit, and it seemed to me that he had left home to avoid danger. But I was wrong. The day after he left, I received a telegram from the Major asking me to rush to him immediately. My father fell into a deep chalk pit, which was very numerous in the vicinity. He broke his skull and lay unconscious inside. I rushed to see him, but he never regained consciousness and died. Apparently, he had returned home from Fairham before dusk, and since the country roads were unfamiliar and the chalk pits were unobstructed, the coroner did not hesitate to make the judgment of 'accidental death'. I carefully examined everything that was related to the cause of his death, but found no facts containing the intent to murder. There were no signs of violence, no footprints, no robberies, and no record of strangers on the road. But I don't say that you know, my mood is very unstable. I was almost certain: someone must have orchestrated some kind of despicable conspiracy around him.

　　"In this ominous situation, I inherited the legacy. You'll ask me why I didn't sell it. My answer is: For I am convinced that the disaster in our house was determined in part by some accident of my uncle's lifetime, and that it will threaten us equally in this house or in another.

　　"My father was tragically killed in January 1885, and it has been two years and eight months now. During this time, my life in Holsham was happy.

　　I have begun to hold on to the hope that the scourge has left my home and has ended with my previous generation. Who knows if it's too early for me to masturbate like this. Yesterday morning, the disaster came again, and the situation was exactly the same as what my father had experienced in the past. ”

　　The young man took a crumpled envelope from the pocket of his vest and walked over to the table, where he shook down five small, dry orange kernels.

　　"That's the envelope," he continued, "the postmark is on the East End of London."

　　The envelope was a few words from the last letter my father received: 'K. K． K'。

　　Then there's the 'put the file on the sundial'. ”

　　"What measures have you taken?" Holmes asked.

　　"Nothing."

　　"Nothing?!"

　　"To tell the truth," he bowed his head, covering his face with his emaciated pale hands, "I don't think there's anything I can do. I felt like a poor rabbit facing a snake that snaked in. I seemed to be caught in the clutches of an irresistible and ruthless demon that no foreseeable, no precaution could prevent. ”

　　"Spray! gush! Holmes shouted. You must act, sir.

　　Otherwise, you're done! Now there is nothing else to save you but to cheer up. But there is no idle work to sigh! ”

　　"I went to the police."

　　"Ah!"

　　"But when they heard me tell me, they just laughed. I believe that the Inspector has formed a fixed view that the letters were pure mischief, and that the deaths of my two loved ones, as the Coroner said, were entirely accidental, and therefore did not need to be associated with the precursors. ”

　　Holmes waved his clenched fists and shouted, "Unbelievably stupid! ”

　　"But they promised to send a policeman to stay in that house with me."

　　"Did you come out tonight?"

　　"Nothing. He was ordered to stay only in the house. ”

　　Holmes was furious and raised his fist again.

　　"Then why did you come to me?" He cried, "Besides, more importantly, why didn't you come to me in the first place?" ”

　　"I don't know. It was only today, when I had told Major Prendergast about my predicament, that he persuaded me to come to you. ”

　　"It's been exactly two days since you received the letter. We should act before then. I reckon you have no further proof than the episodes that have already been provided to me—there are no illuminating details that can be useful to us. ”

　　"There's one," John Oppenshaw said. After rummaging through his coat pocket, he pulled out a faded piece of blue paper and spread it out on the table. "I remember something," he said, "that day, when my uncle was burning the papers, I saw that there were some small unburned papers in the ash piles that had this particular color on the edges of the paper. I found this piece of paper on the floor of my uncle's house. I tend to think that it fell out of a stack of paper, so it wasn't burned. On paper, apart from mentioning orange cores, I'm afraid it won't help us much. I suppose it might be a page in a private diary, with no doubt handwriting from my uncle.com. ”

　　Holmes moved the lamp a little, and the two of us bent down to look at the paper. The edges of the paper are uneven, and indeed they were torn from a book. At the top is written the words "March 1869", and below are some inexplicable records, which read as follows: Four days: Hedson came. Holding the same old political views.

　　Seven Days: Give the orange core to Macaulay, Palamino, and John Swain of St. Augustine.

　　9th: Macaulay has been cleared.

　　Ten Days: John Swain has been cleared.

　　Day XII: Visit to Palmino. Everything went smoothly.

　　"Thank you!" Holmes said, and at the same time folded up the paper and returned it to the guests. "Now you can't delay even a minute. We didn't even have time to discuss what you told me. You have to go home right away and get started. ”

　　"What should I do?"

　　"There's only one thing to do. And it must be done without delay. You have to put the piece of paper you showed us in the brass box you said.

　　Also put in a note stating that all other documents have been burned by your uncle, which is the only one left. Be sure to use words that make them confident. Immediately after doing all this, you must place the brass box on the sundial as the envelope says. Do you get the idea? ”

　　"Totally understood."

　　"Don't think about revenge or anything like that now. I think we can do that through the law. Now that they have laid the net, we should also take corresponding measures. The first thing to consider now is to eliminate the imminent danger that threatens you; the second is to expose the secret and punish the evil group. ”

　　"Thank you," said the young man, standing up and putting on his raincoat, "you have given me new life and hope. I will follow your instructions. ”

　　"You have to race against the clock. At the same time, you must first take care of yourself, because I think there is no doubt that there is a very real and near danger that is threatening you. How do you get back? ”

　　"Take the train back from Waterloo Station."

　　"It's not yet nine o'clock. There are still a lot of people on the street, so I'm sure you'll be safe. However, no matter how careful you are, you can't overdo it. ”

　　"I have a weapon."

　　"That's fine. Tomorrow I will start working on your case. ”

　　"Then I'll be waiting for you in Holsham?"

　　"No, the mystery of your case is in London. I will be looking for clues in London. ”

　　"Then I'll come to see you in a day, or two days, and tell you about the copper box and the document." I will follow your instructions one by one. "He shook hands with us and said goodbye. The wind outside the door was still howling. Heavy rain poured down and kept banging on the windows. This dilapidated, sinister story seems to have come to us with a storm—it seems to be a fallen leaf that fell on us in a strong wind—and is now swept away by the storm.

　　Holmes sat in silence for a moment, his head tilted forward, his eyes fixed on the red flames of the fireplace. Then he lit his pipe, leaned back in his chair, and watched as the blue smoke rings rose up to the ceiling one by one.

　　"Watson, I don't think of any of the cases we've been through that's been more bizarre than this." He finally made a judgment.

　　"Except for the 'four signatures' case, maybe so."

　　"Well, yes. Other than that, maybe. But it seems to me that this John Oppenshaw is facing greater danger than Shulto. ”

　　"But do you have any clear opinion on what kind of danger this is?" I asked.

　　"There is no doubt about their nature," he replied.

　　"So, what's going on with them? Who is this KKK...? Why did he keep pestering this unfortunate family? ”

　　Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes, rested his elbows on the arm of the chair, his fingertips folded together, and said, "For an ideal reasoner, once he has been pointed out to him of one aspect of a fact, he can deduce from this aspect not only the aspects that led to the fact, but all the consequences that will arise therefrom." Just as Cuvier, after much thought, a complete animal can be accurately depicted from (1) a bone. An observer, having thoroughly understood one link in a series of events, should be able to correctly describe all the other links before and after. We have not yet grasped the results that only reason can attain. Problems can only be solved through research, and those who try to solve them intuitively will fail. But for this art to reach its peak, the reasoner must be adept at using all the facts he already has, which is not difficult for you to understand, which in itself means mastering all knowledge. And to do this, even with free education and encyclopedias today, it is still a rare achievement. It is not necessarily impossible for a man to acquire all the knowledge that may be useful to his work. I myself have been working on this. If I remember correctly, at the beginning of our friendship, you once pointed out my limitations very precisely. ”

　　"Yes," I replied, unable to help but laugh. "It's a weirdly interesting record sheet.

　　I remember: philosophy, astronomy, political science, with zero marks; botany, for sure; geology, as far as the mud trails of any area within fifty miles of London were concerned; chemistry, very unique; anatomy, without a system; a record of thrilling literature and crimes unparalleled; violin musician, boxer, swordsman, lawyer; self-poisoner of cocaine and smoking. I think those are the main points of my analysis. ”

　　(1) Georges Cuvier, 1769-1832, French animalist and paleontologist. - Translator's Note

　　Holmes heard the last item and giggled. "Well," he said, "as I have said in the past, I shall say now that a man should fill the little attic of his own mind with everything he may need. The rest can be left in his library, ready to be used whenever needed. Now, in order for such a case that we have accepted tonight, we certainly need to gather all our information. You handed me the K-in book on the shelf next to you. Thank you! Let's consider the situation and see what inferences might be drawn from it. First, we can start with a well-founded assumption that Colonel Oppenshaw left the United States for some compelling reason. A man of his age would not change all his habits, nor would he willingly abandon the pleasant climate of Florida and return to England to live in the loneliness of the countryside. His extremely rare fondness for the solitary life of England implies that he fears someone or something in his heart, so we might as well make a usable assumption that he was forced to leave the United States out of fear of someone, something.

　　As for what he was afraid of, we can only deduce from the few terrible letters that the others and several of his heirs received. Have you noticed the postmarks of those letters? ”

　　"The first was sent from Pondicherry, the second was Dunti, and the third was London."

　　"Sent from the East End of London. What can you deduce from this? ”

　　"Those places are all harbours. The person who wrote the letter was on the boat. ”

　　"Great, we have a clue. There is no doubt that it is very likely— and extremely likely— that the person who wrote the letter must have been in a boat at the time. Now let's consider the second point. In the case of Pondicherry, seven weeks passed from the receipt of the threatening letter to the time of the accident. As for Dunti, it took only about three or four days. What does this mean? ”

　　"The former is a long way away."

　　"But the letter also has to travel a long way?"

　　"Then I don't understand."

　　"At least suppose that the man or group of people was on a sailboat. It seems as if their special warnings or signals were always sent before they set out to cause trouble. You see, after the signal came from Dunti, then something happened, and you said how fast. If they had come by ship from Pondicherry, they would have arrived at the same time as the letter. But, in fact, it took seven weeks before the accident occurred. I think those seven weeks represented the jet lag in which the letter was shipped by cruise ship and the person who wrote the letter came by sailboat. ”

　　"It's possible."

　　"Not only is it possible, but it's probably that way. Now we can see the extreme urgency of this new case and why I urged little Oppenshaw to be vigilant.

　　Disasters always come after the end of the sender's journey. But this time it was from London, so we couldn't wait. ”

　　"Oh my God!" I cried out. What does this mean? This relentless persecution! ”

　　"The document that Oppenshaw was carrying was clearly of vital importance to a man or group of people in the sailboat. I think the situation is clear, there must be more than one of them. It was impossible for a single person to kill two people in succession, and the means used concealed the autopsy jury. There must be a number of accomplices in this, and they must also be brave and resourceful. They have to get the documents in their hands, no matter who they hide them. So, you can see,... It is no longer an abbreviation for a person's name KKK, but a symbol of a group. ”

　　"What kind of group logo is it?"

　　"You didn't—" said Holmes, leaning forward and lowering his voice, "have you never heard of the Ku Klux Klan?" ”

　　"I've never heard of it."

　　Sherlock Holmes flipped through the book on his lap page by page. "Look here," he read, "Kyu Clarks Crane, is a name. It comes from the sound of thinking (1) of the iron that resembles a gun being pulled up. This terrible secret society was formed by former Confederate soldiers from the southern states after the Civil War and quickly formed chapters throughout the country. This is particularly notable in tennessee, Louisiana, carolina, Georgia and Florida states. Its power was used to achieve its political ends, primarily the use of terror against black voters, murdering or expelling people who opposed their views abroad. They usually inflict atrocities by sending the hostile person something of a strange shape, such as a small oak leaf with leaves, a few watermelon seeds, or a few orange cores, as a warning. After receiving a warning, a hostile person may publicly declare that he has a view of the plains or flee abroad. If left unattended, one is bound to be killed, often in some strange and unexpected way. The organization of that group was so tightly organized and the methods used were so systematic that in a well-documented case, almost never had anyone who had competed against it survived the scourge, and never had the perpetrator of the atrocity ever been traced. Despite efforts by the U.S. government and the Southern upper class to stop it, the group grew for several years. Finally, in 1869, the Ku Klux Klan movement suddenly collapsed, although such atrocities have occurred from time to time since. ”

　　Holmes put down the book in his hand and said, "You must see that the sudden downfall of that group coincided with Oppenshaw's escape from the United States with the papers." Two things are likely to cause and effect each other. No wonder Oppenshaw and his family always had some sworn enemies tracking them down. You will understand that this record and diary involves some of the leading figures in the American South. Moreover, there will be many people who can't even sleep without finding these things again. ”

　　(1) The English KuKlux Klan – the Ku Klux Klan. - Translator's Note

　　"Then, the page we saw..."

　　"As we expected. If I remember correctly, it said' Send orange cores to AB, and C. That is to give them the warning of the group. Then, it went on to write: and AB has been cleared, or has gone abroad; and finally said that C has been visited; I fear that this will bring ominous consequences to C. Hey, Doctor, I suppose, we can give this dark place a glimmer of light, and I believe that at the same time, little Oppenshaw's only chance is to do as I tell him. Tonight, there is nothing more to say and more to do. Please hand me the violin! Let us put this annoying weather and the misfortunes of our fellow citizens for half an hour. ”

　　In the early morning, the sky has cleared, and the sun shines softly through the hazy clouds that hang over this great city. When I went downstairs, Holmes was already having breakfast.

　　"You'll forgive me for not waiting for you," he said, "I reckon I'm going to be busy all day with little Oppenshaw's case." ”

　　"What are you going to do?" I asked.

　　"A lot depends on the results of my initial investigation. Anyway, I might have to go to Holsham. ”

　　"Don't you go there first?"

　　"No, I'll have to start in town, and if you just pull the bell, the maid will bring you a cup of coffee."

　　While I was waiting for coffee, I picked up the newspaper on the table that had not yet been opened and browsed it. My eyes stopped at a headline, and I felt a cold war in my heart.

　　"Holmes," I cried, "you're late!" ”

　　"Ah!" He lowered his cup and replied, "That's exactly what I'm worried about." How did this happen? Obviously he was calm when he spoke, but I could see that he was very excited inside.

　　Oppenshaw's name and the title "Tragedy by the Waterloo Bridge" caught my attention. The content of this report is as follows: Between 9 and 10 o'clock last night, eight squads of police officers Cook were on duty near Waterloo Bridge when they overheard someone calling for help and falling into the water. It was the night when I couldn't see my five fingers, and it was a storm raging, so although there were several people who passed by to help, they could not be rescued. However, the alarm was immediately sounded, and through the concerted efforts of the marine police, a body was finally recovered.

　　The body was identified as a young gentleman. From the envelope taken from his pocket, it was learned that the man's name was John Oppenshaw and that he had lived near Holsham. Presumably, Qu May have been in a hurry to catch the last train from Waterloo Station, got lost in the darkness, and stumbled on the edge of a ferry pier and fell into the water. There were no traces of violence in the body. There is no doubt that the deceased was killed by accident, which was enough to draw the attention of the municipal authorities to the situation at the riverside pier.

　　We sat in silence for a few minutes, and Holmes was frustrated and deeply shocked by a look I had never seen before.

　　"It hurt my self-esteem, Watson," he said at last, "and while it was a feeling of intolerance, it hurt my self-esteem." Now it's a personal matter for me. If God pretends that I am a year old, I will solve these guys with my own hands.

　　He ran to me for help, and I sent him to his death...! He jumped out of his chair and paced around the room, agitated and hard to suppress. A grimace appeared on his deeply sunken cheeks, and his two long, thin hands uneasily intertwined their fingers and clenched together for a moment, and then released again.

　　Finally, he said loudly, "These devils are so cunning, how could they trick him there?" That embankment is not on the route to the station! For the attainment of their ends, even on such a dark night, there were undoubtedly too many people on that bridge. Alas, Watson, let's see who wins in the end! I'm going out now! ”

　　"Go find the police?"

　　"No, I'll be a cop myself. When I'm done with the net, I'm ready to catch flies. But to catch it after the net is tied. ”

　　I was busy with my medical work all day, and I didn't return to Baker Street until late in the evening. Holmes has not returned. It wasn't until it was almost ten o'clock that he walked in pale and exhausted. He ran to the cupboard, tore off a large piece of bread, chewed it up, and drank a large glass of water to flush it down.

　　"You're hungry," I said.

　　"Hungry! I forgot to eat all the time and didn't eat anything after breakfast. ”

　　"Didn't eat?"

　　"I didn't eat it at all, I didn't have the energy to think about it."

　　"How's it going?"

　　"Good value for money"

　　"Got a clue?"

　　"They're in my hands. Little Oppenshaw's vendetta will not be unrequited.

　　Hey, Watson, let us rule the servant in the way of the servant. This is well thought out! ”

　　"What do you mean by that?"

　　He took an orange from the cupboard, broke it into several petals, squeezed the orange core out, placed it on the table, and selected five of them and put them in an envelope. On the reverse side of the envelope, he wrote "S. Ｈ． Generation J. Ｏ． "。 (1) He enclosed the envelope with the words "America, Georgia, Savannah, the Lone Star, Captain James Calhoun".

　　"The letter was already waiting for him when he entered the harbor," he said with a triumphant laugh, "and this letter will keep him restless at night." He would also find that the letter must be a harbinger of his death, as had been the case with Oppenshaw. ”

　　"Who is this Captain Calhoun?"

　　"The head of those guys. I'm going to get a few other people, but first get him. ”

　　"Then, how did you track it down?"

　　He took a large piece of paper from his pocket, full of dates and names.

　　"I spent the whole day," he said, "looking up the Lloyd's Register and the files of old documents, tracing the voyages of every ship that docked in Pondicherry harbor in January and February 1883 after leaving the harbor." From the registration point of view, in these two months, a total of thirty-six ships of large tonnage arrived there. One of them was called the Lone Star, which immediately caught my attention because the ship, though registered in London, was named after a state in the United States. ”

　　(1) Sherlock Holmes on behalf of John OpenFshaw. "I think it's Texas." ”

　　"I can't tell which state it is, and I can't say for sure now; but I know it must have been an American ship."

　　"What about after that?"

　　"I consulted Dunti's records. When I saw the record of the arrival there of the three-masted sailing ship Lone Star in January 1885, my conjecture became unmistakable. I then inquired about the status of the vessels currently berthed in the Port of London. ”

　　"The result?"

　　"That 'Lone Star' arrived here last week. I ran to albert dock and found out that the ship had taken advantage of the early tide this morning to sail down the river and back to the port of Savannah. I telegraphed to Gravesend and learned that the ship had passed not long ago. Since the wind was facing east, I was sure that the ship had sailed past Goodwins at this moment, not far from the Isle of Wight. ”

　　"Then, what do you want to do?"

　　"I'm going to catch him!" He and the two deputies, as far as I could tell, were the only Americans on the ship. The rest are Finns and Germans. I also learned that the three of them had left the ship ashore last night. The news was told by the dockers who were loading them at the time. By the time their sailboat reached Savannah, the mail ship had already brought the letter there, and the undersea telegram had informed the Savannah police that the three gentlemen were the man he was wanted for murder. ”

　　However, the nets laid by man are extremely skillful, and in the end they cannot be without loopholes.

　　The murderer of John Oppenshaw could no longer receive the few orange cores, which would have made them aware that there was another person in the world who was just as cunning and determined as they were pursuing them. The storm at the autumn equinox of that year blew long and fiercely. We waited for a long time to get news of Savannah's Lone Star, but we never heard from us. Finally we heard that somewhere in the far Atlantic Ocean, someone saw a broken stern column floating in the receding tide of a wave with the inscription "L. Ｓ． (1) Two letters, and all we know about the fate of the Lone Star is that.

　　(1) The original text of "Lone Star" is loneStar, abbreviated as LS.