Sherlock Holmes Detective Episodes Return (Part 1)

The second blood stain

　　I had planned to publish Grange Manor and stop writing about the glorious deeds of my friend, Monsieur Sherlock Holmes. This is not because of a lack of material, there are hundreds of cases that have not been used, nor is it because the reader has lost interest in the excellent character and unique approach of this remarkable man. The real reason was Mr. Holmes's reluctance to continue publishing his experience. In fact, recording his deeds was good for his investigation work, but he had to leave London and go to the Sussex hills to study and beekeeping, so he did not like to continue to publish his experience, and repeatedly asked me to respect his wishes. I told him that I had shown my readers that my story would be over after the publication of The Second Blood Stain, and that it would be most appropriate to conclude the book with such an important international case. So, in the end, I got his consent to be careful to tell the public about the incident. When telling this story, some details may not seem very clear, please forgive the public for my difficulties without reservations.

　　One autumn, the chronology cannot be explained, and I beg the reader's pardon that one Tuesday morning two well-known European guests came to our humble residence on Baker Street. One was the famous Lord Belenge, who had twice served as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. The bridge of his nose is high, his eyes are shining, and his appearance is very majestic. The other was dark-skinned, with a beautiful face and elegant manners, although he was not yet middle-aged, but he seemed to have a wide range of experience. He was Triloni Hop, the minister in charge of European affairs, Britain's most promising politician. The two of them sat side by side on a couch and chair full of documents, and it was clear from their worried and anxious looks that they must have come here to ask for something important. The Prime Minister's bulging hands clutched the ivory handle of an umbrella, and he looked at me and I looked at Holmes, and infinite sorrow appeared on his haggard, indifferent face. The Minister of European Affairs was also restless, sometimes twisting his beard and sometimes touching the bracelet pendant.

　　"Mr. Holmes, at eight o'clock this morning I found that an important document was missing, and hastened to tell the Prime Minister. Follow the Prime Minister's advice and we will come to you immediately. ”

　　"Did you notify the police?"

　　The Prime Minister speaks quickly and decisively — he's known to say, "No, we can't do that." Notifying the police means making the documents public, which is exactly what we don't want. "Sir, why is that?"

　　"Because this document is so important, it would be easy, or likely, to complicate the situation in Europe once it is made public." It is not an exaggeration to say that the question of war and peace depends entirely on this. The recovery of documents must be kept in absolute secrecy, otherwise there would be no need, since the purpose of the theft of documents was precisely to publish their contents. ”

　　"I see. Mr. Trironi Hoppe, please describe exactly under what circumstances the documents were lost. ”

　　"Well, Mr. Holmes, a few words will be clear. We received a letter six days ago from a foreign monarch. The stakes were so high that I didn't dare to put it in a safe, but instead took it to my home on Whitehall House Street every day and locked it in a file box in my bedroom. It was there last night, and that's true. As I was changing my clothes and eating dinner, I opened the box and saw that the document was still inside. It's gone this morning. The file box was left all night next to the mirror on the dresser in my bedroom. My wife and I slept very lightly. Neither of us was sure that no one had entered the house during the night, but the documents were gone. ”

　　"When are you going to have dinner?"

　　"Half past seven."

　　"What did you do before you went to bed?"

　　"My wife went out to see a play. I kept sitting in the outhouse waiting for her. We didn't go into the bedroom until half past eleven. ”

　　"That is to say, the file box was left there unguarded for four hours."

　　"No one is allowed to enter the house at any time except my own servant and my wife's maid, who can enter the house in the morning. These two servants are reliable and have been working with us for quite a long time. Besides, neither of them could have known that there was something more important than ordinary documents in my file box. ”

　　"Who knew there was this letter?"

　　"No one in the family knows."

　　"Your wife must have known?"

　　"No, sir. I didn't say it to her until I lost the letter this morning. ”

　　The Prime Minister nodded approvingly.

　　He said, "Sir, I have long known that your sense of responsibility is very strong. I am convinced that the issue of confidentiality of such an important letter would be more important than the personal feelings of the family. ”

　　The Secretary of State for European Affairs nodded.

　　"You've been rewarded. My wife and I hadn't mentioned a word of the letter before this morning. ”

　　"Will she guess?"

　　"No, she won't, and no one will guess."

　　"Have you lost a file before?"

　　"No, sir."

　　"Who else in England knew such a letter?"

　　"Yesterday, the Cabinet Ministers were informed of such a letter, and every day the Cabinet meeting emphasizes confidentiality, especially at yesterday's meeting, the Prime Minister solemnly reminded everyone. Oh my God, after a few hours I lost this letter myself! He tugged at his hair with his hands, and his expression was extremely frustrated, and even his handsome face became very ugly. We suddenly saw that he was a warm-hearted, impulsive, and very sensitive person. Then his face returned to that noble expression, and his tone became milder.

　　"In addition to the cabinet ministers, two, and possibly three, officials knew about the letter. Mr. Holmes, I can assure you that no one else in England will ever know about it. ”

　　"But what about abroad?"

　　"I believe that no one abroad has ever seen this letter except the letter writer. I am convinced that the letter writer did not go through his ministers and that this was not done under the usual official channels. ”

　　Holmes thought about it for a moment.

　　"Sir, I have to ask, what is the central content of this letter, and why the loss of this letter has such significant consequences?"

　　The two politicians quickly exchanged glances, and the prime minister frowned. He said: "The envelope is thin and long, and the color is light blue. The envelope was covered with red fire paint with the imprint of a crouching lion. The recipient's name is written large and eye-catching..."

　　Holmes said: "These situations you have said are very important and worthy of attention, but in order to investigate, I always have to go back to the source." What is the content of the letter? ”

　　"That's the most important state secret, I'm not good to tell you, and I don't think it's necessary either." If you can use your power to find what I call envelopes and letters, you will be rewarded by the state, and we will give you the maximum reward that our authority permits. ”

　　Sherlock Holmes smiled and stood up.

　　He said: "You two are the busiest people in Britain, but my little detective is also very busy, and there are many people visiting. I am very sorry that I cannot help you in this matter, and it is a waste of time to continue to talk. ”

　　The Prime Minister immediately stood up, and a fierce light shot out from his two deeply sunken eyes, a look that made all the Cabinet Ministers daunted. He said, "Talk to me like this..." But he suddenly suppressed his anger and sat down again. For a minute or two, we all sat quietly, and no one spoke. The elderly statesman shrugged and said, "Mr. Holmes, we can accept your terms. You are right, and you can only act if you are fully trusted. The young politician said, "I agree with you. ”

　　"I believe in the reputation of you and your colleague Dr. Watson, so I'm going to tell you the whole story." I also believe that you have a strong sense of patriotism, because if this matter is exposed, it will bring unimaginable disasters to our country. "You can trust me with confidence."

　　A foreign monarch, indignant at the rapid development of the colonies on the mainland, wrote the letter. The letter was written hastily and was written entirely on his own personal opinion. The investigation showed that his ministers were not aware of the matter. At the same time, the letter was also very illogical, some of the words, and provocative nature, and the publication of this letter would infuriate the British. This will cause an uproar, and I dare say that if this letter is published, it will cause war in a week's time. ”

　　Holmes wrote a name on a note and handed it to the Prime Minister.

　　"Yes, it was he, and this letter was somehow lost, and it could have caused hundreds of millions of pounds of attrition and the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands of people."

　　"Did you inform the person who wrote this letter?"

　　"Informed, sir, I have just sent a password telegram."

　　"Maybe the person who wrote the letter wanted to publish this letter."

　　"No, we have reason to think that the person who wrote the letter already felt that it was too imprudent and too impatient to do so. If the letter were made public, it would be a heavier blow to his own country than to Britain. ”

　　If so, whose interests is it to publish this letter? Why would someone steal and publish the letter? ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, this involves tense international political relations. If you consider the current political situation in Europe, it is not difficult to see the motivation for this letter. The whole continent of Europe was an armed stronghold, with two evenly matched military alliances, and Great Britain remained neutral, maintaining a balance between them. If Britain is forced to go to war with one alliance, it will inevitably give the countries of another alliance an advantage, whether they enter the war or not. Do you get it? ”

　　"You're very clear. That is to say, it is the enemy of the monarch who wants to obtain and publish this letter in order to break down relations between the sender's country and our country. ”

　　"Yes."

　　"If this letter falls into the hands of some enemy, to whom will he give it?"

　　"To a minister in any country in Europe." Perhaps the current believer is taking a train to his destination. ”

　　Mr. Triloni Hop lowered his head and groaned loudly. The Prime Minister put his hand on his shoulder and comforted him: "Dear friend, you are very unfortunate, and no one can blame you. You were not negligent. Mr. Holmes, you know everything, what do you think to do? ”

　　Holmes shook his head helplessly.

　　"Gentlemen, do you think that without this letter, there will be war?"

　　"I think it's possible."

　　"Then, gentlemen, please prepare for war."

　　"Mr. Holmes, however, it is difficult to say that the letter will not be recovered."

　　"Consider these circumstances, for it is conceivable that the documents had been taken before eleven thirty o'clock in the evening, for Mr. Houp and his wife had been in the house from that time until the discovery of the loss of the letters. Then the letter was stolen between 7:30 and 11:30 p.m. last night, most likely after 7:30 p.m., because the person who stole the letter knew that the letter was in the file box and must have wanted to get it as soon as possible. So where is the faith now? There was no reason for anyone to withhold the letter. The letter will soon reach those who need it. What chance do we have of finding the letter, or figuring out where it is? So the letter is not available. ”

　　The Prime Minister got up from the couch.

　　"Mr. Holmes, what you said is completely logical, and I feel that we are really powerless."

　　"In order to study this matter, we assume that the letter was taken by a maid or a male servant..."

　　"They are old servants and have been tested."

　　"I remember you saying that your bedroom is on the second floor, and there is no door leading directly to the outside of the building, and there are outsiders who go there from outside the building without being seen. So someone in your family must have taken it. So to whom did the thief give the letter? Handed over to an international spy, or an international agent, these people I am familiar with. There are three people who can be said to be their leaders, and I first have to investigate one by one to see if they are still there. If one person is missing, especially since last night, then we can get a little bit of inspiration to know where the documents went. ”

　　The Secretary for European Affairs asked, "Why does he have to leave?" He could have sent the letter to the embassies of various countries in London. ”

　　"I don't think so. These agents work independently, and their relationship with the embassy is often strained. The Prime Minister nodded in agreement.

　　"Mr. Holmes, I believe you have a point. He wanted to hand over such a precious thing to headquarters. The steps you have to take are doable. Hop, let's not neglect other things because of this unfortunate thing. If there is any new development today, we will tell you and ask you to tell us about the results of your investigation. ”

　　After saying goodbye to us, the two politicians solemnly left.

　　After the guests had left, Holmes silently lit his pipe, sat down, and pondered for a while. I opened the morning newspaper and read intently on an appalling murder that had taken place last night. Just then my friend let out a long sigh, stood up, and placed his pipe on the mantelpiece.

　　He said: "There is no better way to solve it." The situation is very serious, but it is not completely desperate. Now we need to find out who took the letter, and maybe it is still in his hands and has not been handed over. For these people, it is nothing more than a matter of money, we have the British Treasury to pay, not afraid to spend money. As long as he is willing to sell, I will buy it, no matter how much it costs. Imagine this stalker holding the letter, seeing how much one side can pay and trying the other. Only three people dared to take such a big risk, Obelstein, La José and Aichoado Lucas. I'm going to go to them separately. ”

　　I glanced at the morning newspaper in my hand.

　　"Is it Aichoado Lucas from Gordolfin Street?"

　　"You can't see him anymore."

　　"Why?"

　　"He was killed at home last night."

　　In the process of solving our cases, he often surprised me, and this time I saw me surprised him, and I couldn't help but be very happy. He stared at the newspaper in amazement, then snatched it from my hand. Here's a passage I was reading as he got up from his chair.

　　<<威斯敏斯特教堂谋杀案>>

　　Last night there was a mysterious murder at sixteen Rue Des Golfins. The street, located between the River Thames and Westminster Abbey, is almost obscured by the reflection of the roof of the House, and the secluded street is lined with old-fashioned houses from the eighteenth century. Number Sixteen is a small and sophisticated building, where Mr. Aichoado Lucas, a famous london social figure, has lived here for many years. He is approachable and has enjoyed a reputation as the best amateur tenor in the UK. Mr. Lucas, now Chinese New Year's Eve four years old, is unmarried and has a housekeeper, Mrs. Pollinger, and a maid, Milton. The housekeeper lived in the attic and went to bed very early. The maid was absent from home that night and went out to visit a friend who lived in Hammoresmee. After ten o'clock in the evening, there was only Mr. Lucas in the house, and what had happened at this time had yet to be clarified, and at eleven o'clock, Barrett patrolled through The Street of Goldolfin and saw the gate of Sixteen half open. He knocked on the door, but no one said yes. He saw a light in the room in front of him, so he went into the aisle and continued to knock on the door, but still did not move. So he pushed the door and went in, only to see that the room was so chaotic that the furniture was almost all overturned on one side of the room, and a chair fell in the middle of the room. The homeowner who died fell by the chair, one hand still clutching the leg of the chair, must have been a knife into his heart, he died immediately. The murderous knife is a curved Indian dagger, an oriental weapon originally hung on the wall as an ornament. The motive for the murder was not like robbery, because the valuables inside the house were not lost. Mr. Eduardo Lucas is famous and loved by everyone, so his tragic and mysterious death is sure to attract the deep concern and sympathy of many other friends.

　　Holmes asked after a moment, "Watson, what do you think is going on?" ”

　　"It was just a coincidence."

　　"Coincidence! He was the most likely of the three people we just said to be on stage, and he died tragically at the moment when the play was being staged. From the situation, it seems that most of it will not be a coincidence, of course, it cannot be said very accurately. Dear Watson, these two things may be interrelated, must be interrelated. It is precisely to find out how they relate to each other. "Now the police must know it all!"

　　"Nope. All they knew was what they saw on Gordolfin Street. As for what happened on Whitehall House Street, they certainly didn't know about it, and they won't know about it in the future. Only we know both things and can figure out the relationship between these two things. Anyway, one thing that makes me suspicious of Lucas is this: It's only a few minutes' walk from High Dolfin Street in Westminster Abbey to Whitehall House Street. But the other two spies I mentioned lived at the end of London's West End. As a result, Lucas could more easily contact or get information from the family of the Minister of European Affairs than the other two, and while the matter itself was a trivial matter, it might be important considering that the crime occurred within a few hours. feed! Who's coming? Mrs. Hudson walked in with a tray containing a woman's business card. Holmes looked at the business card, as if seeing a glimmer of hope, and handed it to me casually. He said to Mrs. Hudson, "Invite Mrs. Hilda Triloni Hop upstairs." ”

　　In this humble room, after we had hosted two celebrities that morning, one of London's loveliest women had returned. I have often heard of the beauty of the young daughter of the Duke of Bermünster, but neither the praise of her nor the photographs of herself have made me expect her to look so delicate and graceful, and her appearance so gorgeous. However, the first impression that such a woman gave us on that autumn morning was not beautiful. Her cheeks, though lovely, pale from the excitement of emotion; her eyes, though bright, but impatient; and her thin lips tightly closed in an effort to control herself. When she stood straight by the door, the first thing that caught our eye was not her incomparable beauty but her extreme fear.

　　"Mr. Holmes, has my husband been here?"

　　"Yes, ma'am, he's here."

　　"Mr. Holmes, I beg you not to tell him that I have come."

　　Holmes nodded coldly and pointed to a chair and asked her to sit down.

　　"Madam, you have embarrassed me. Please sit down and tell me what you want, but I am afraid that I cannot agree to everything unconditionally. ”

　　She walked to the other side of the room and sat down with her back to the window. That demeanor is really like a queen, slim, elegant posture, full of feminine charm.

　　Her two white-gloved hands, sometimes clasped together and sometimes released, she said, "Mr. Holmes, I am willing to be open to you, and I hope that you will be very frank with me." My husband and I trust each other completely in almost everything, with one exception, and that is political issues. He was always tight-lipped in this regard and didn't tell me anything. Now I know that something very unfortunate happened in our house last night. I know of a file missing. But because it was a political issue, my husband didn't fully make it clear to me. Things are important, very important, and I should know this thoroughly. You are the only one who knows the situation, Mr. Holmes, apart from a few politicians, and I beg you to tell me what happened and what might lead to it. Please, Mr. Holmes, please tell me the details. Please don't refuse to tell me for fear of harming my husband's interests, because only by fully trusting me can his interests be guaranteed, and sooner or later he will understand this. ”

　　"Madam, what you are asking cannot be said."

　　She sighed and covered her face with her hands.

　　"Madam, you have to understand that I can only do this. Your husband thinks that you should not be allowed to know about it; then, because of my profession, and having swore to keep it a secret, knowing the whole truth, can I say what he is not allowed to say? You should still ask him personally. ”

　　"I asked him. I came to you as a last resort. Since you will not tell me explicitly, Mr. Holmes, can you give me a little inspiration? That would be very helpful to me too. ”

　　"Madam, what does this inspiration mean?"

　　"Will my husband's political career be seriously affected by this accident?"

　　"Unless things are corrected, there will be serious consequences."

　　"Ah!" She took a deep breath, as if the problem had been solved.

　　"Mr. Holmes, I have one more question. From the moment my husband was shocked by the incident, I understood that the loss of this document would have terrible consequences throughout the country. ”

　　"If he said that, of course I wouldn't have a problem."

　　"What are the consequences of losing a file?"

　　"No, madame, what you asked is not what I should answer."

　　"Then I won't delay you any longer. I cannot blame you, Mr. Holmes, for speaking too rigorously, and I am sure you will not say that I am not good, for I wish to share his worries, though he is unwilling to do so. Once again, I beg you not to say to him that I have come. ”

　　She walked to the door and looked back at us again, her beautiful and anxious countenance once again impressing me, as well as her frightened gaze and closed mouth. She walked out the door.

　　The first sound of the skirt rubbing gradually became inaudible, and then the front door slammed, and the sound disappeared completely. At this time, Holmes smiled and said, "Watson, women belong to your research." What trick is this pretty lady playing? What was her true intention? ”

　　"Of course, the intentions she made clear, and her anxiety was natural."

　　"Ahem! Watson, you have to think about her expression, her attitude, her suppressed anxiety and the questions she asks again and again. You know she came from a social class that wouldn't show her feelings easily. ”

　　"Indeed, she looks very excited."

　　"You must also remember that she has repeatedly and earnestly told us that only if she knows everything is in her favor for her husband. What did she mean by that? And you must have noticed that she was sitting there trying to make the sun shine only on her back, and she didn't want us to see her facial expressions. ”

　　"That's right, she specially picked the backlit chair and sat down."

　　"The mental activity of women is difficult to guess. It was for the same reason that I suspected the woman whom Mar gave to the special, which you probably remember, was inspired by the fact that she did not rub powder on her nose and finally solved the problem. How can you be so gullible? Sometimes their small gesture contains a lot of meaning, and a hair pin or a curl fire shear can reveal their abnormality. Watson, good morning. ”

　　"You're going out?"

　　"Yes, I'm going to Gordolfin Street to spend this morning with our friends at Scotland Yard. Our problem is directly related to Eduado Lucas, but I have no way to solve it now. It would be a great mistake to arrive at an opinion before it has happened. My good Watson, please be on duty to receive guests, and I will try to come back and have lunch with you. ”

　　From that day on, three days had passed, and Holmes had been silent, and all his friends knew that he was meditating and meditating, while outsiders thought he was frustrated. He went in and out, smoked non-stop, picked up the violin and played it twice and threw it away, falling into fantasies from time to time, not eating on time, and not answering the questions I asked at any time. Apparently, his investigation was not going well. He said nothing about the case, I only knew some fragments from the newspapers, such as the arrest of the servant of the deceased, John Milton, but then released. The coroner filed a complaint that it was a deliberate murder, but was unclear about the facts of the case and the parties. The motive for the killing is unknown. There were many valuables in the house, but they did not move in the slightest, and the documents of the deceased were not turned over. A detailed examination of the deceased's manuscripts, letters, etc., revealed that he was an avid researcher of international political issues, very talkative, an excellent linguist, with many correspondences, and that he was familiar with the principal leaders of several countries, but that nothing suspicious was found in the documents in his drawer. As for his relationship with women, it is very messy, but they are not deeply involved. He knew many women, but had very few girlfriends and none of them were loved by him. He has no special habits of life, and his behavior is conformist. His death is mysterious and may not solve the problem.

　　As for the arrest of the servant John Milton, it was nothing more than a little bit of frustration and disappointment, lest people argue that the authorities did nothing. The servant went to Hammoresmie that night to visit a friend, and the evidence that he was not present at the time of the crime was ample. By the time he left home, by the time he arrived at Westminster Abbey, no one had discovered the murder. But he explained that the night was good, and he had walked some distance, so he arrived home at twelve o'clock, and when he got home, he was horrified by this unexpected tragedy. He and his master have always had a good relationship. Some of the deceased's belongings were found in the servant's box, notably a box of shaving knives, but he said it was given to him by the master, and the housekeeper confirmed the matter. Lucas had hired Milton for three years, and it is worth noting that Lucas did not take Milton to Europe, sometimes Lucas stayed in Paris for three months, while Milton only stayed in The Rue De Golfotel. As for the housekeeper, she didn't hear anything on the night of the accident, and if any guests came, she said that the host himself had invited her in.

　　I didn't see any news from the newspapers about the cracking of the case for three consecutive mornings. If Holmes had known more, at least he had not spoken out. However, he told me that Detective Resttrid had told him everything he knew, and I believed that he could quickly understand the progress of the case. It was not until the morning of the fourth day that the newspaper carried a long telegram from Paris, which seemed to solve all the problems. The message reads as follows:

　　The police in Paris have already made a discovery [according to the Daily Telegraph], which could reveal the mystery of the tragic death of Mr. Aichoado Lucas. Readers may recall that Mr. Lucas was stabbed to death with a dagger in his own apartment on Gordolfin Street on Monday night this week. His male servant was suspected and later released after investigation that he was not at the scene of the crime. Yesterday several servants reported to the Paris police authorities that their master, Mrs. Henri Phrnay, was insane. She lives in a small house somewhere on Austria Street. An examination by the relevant health authorities confirmed that Mrs. Funay had long suffered from dangerous mania. According to the investigation, Mrs. Phrnay returned from London this Tuesday with evidence that her whereabouts were linked to the Westminster Abbey murders. After verification and multiple checks of the photographs, the authorities concluded that M. Henry Phrnay and Eduardo Lucas were in fact one person, and that the deceased, for some reason, had taken turns living in Paris and London, respectively. Mrs. Furnai, a Creole, eccentric and agitated, turned into a frenzy out of jealousy, and it is estimated that the patient may have caused a sensation throughout London by carrying a dagger as a result of the frenzy. At present, the full activity of the patient on Monday night has not been clarified. But on Tuesday morning, at the Charing Cross Street train station, there was a woman who looked exactly like her, attracting the special attention of the servants for her strange appearance and violent behavior. Therefore, the person concerned believes that either the patient killed someone because he was in a state of agitation, or that he committed a homicide, which led to the recurrence of the patient's fever. At the moment, she cannot recount her past coherently, and doctors consider it hopeless to restore her sanity. It has been attested that there was a woman who had been gazing at the house for hours on Monday night in Gadolfine, and she might have been Mrs. Furnay.

　　When Holmes was about to finish breakfast, I read him the report and said, "Holmes, what do you think of this report?" ”

　　He stood up and paced back and forth around the house, and he said, "Watson, you can really keep your words in your heart and not say them." I haven't told you anything for the past three days because there's nothing to say. The news from Paris now is of little use to us either. ”

　　"It always has a lot to do with Lucas's death, right?"

　　"Lucas's death was just an accident, and it was a trivial matter compared to our real goal of finding documents and averting a catastrophe in Europe. The only thing that has been important in the last three days is that nothing has happened. I have received a report from the government almost every hour in these two days, and I am sure that there is no sign of uneasiness in the whole of Europe, wherever it is. If the letter is lost, no, it is impossible to lose, and if it is lost, where is the letter? Who is holding this letter? Why withhold this letter? The question really seemed like a hammer that struck my head day and night. Lucas's death and loss of letters, is this really a coincidence? Did he receive any letters? If so, why isn't it in his file? Didn't his crazy wife take the letter? In this case, was the letter in her home in Paris? How can I find this letter without arousing the suspicion of the Paris police? Dear Watson, in this case, not only the criminals are embarrassed with us, but even the law is against us. Everyone is in our way, but it's a big deal. If I can successfully resolve this case, it will be the greatest glory of my life's career. Ah, and the latest situation! He glanced hastily at the letter which had just been handed to him, and said, "It is as if Restrid has found out what is important, Watson, with his hat on, and we shall go together to the church district of Westminster." ”

　　This was my first visit to the site, the house was tall and old-fashioned in appearance, but the layout was rigorous, beautiful and durable, and it carried the style of the eighteenth century. Restrade was looking out from the front window when a tall policeman opened the door and invited us in, and Restrade stepped forward to give us a warm welcome. We walked in and looked at it, and there was no trace of anything but an ugly, irregularly shaped blood stain on the carpet. A small square carpet, placed in the center of the room, is surrounded by a beautiful old-fashioned floor made of small square pieces of wood, and the floor is very smooth. The wall above the fireplace is full of captured weapons, the weapon of the attack is a dagger hanging on the wall, by the window is placed a valuable writing desk, all the decorations in the house such as oil paintings, small carpets, and decorations on the wall, all of which look exquisite and luxurious.

　　Restrade asked, "See the news from Paris?" ”

　　Holmes nodded.

　　"Our French friend seemed to have grasped the point this time, and they made sense, when she knocked on the door. It was an unexpected visitor, because Lucas had very little contact with the outside world, and because Lucas couldn't let her stay on the street, he opened the door and let her in. Mrs. Phrnay told Lucas that she had been looking for him and blamed him. Things are always connected to each other, and daggers hang on the wall, so supplies come easily. But it wasn't stabbed to death at once, you see the chairs all fell to the side, and Lucas still had a chair in his hand, and he wanted to use the chair to block Mrs. Lucas. It seems that things are already clear, as if they were happening right in front of us. ”

　　Holmes's eyes widened and he looked at Lestrade.

　　"Why are you looking for me?"

　　"Ah, that's another thing, it's a small thing, but you'll be interested, because it's weird, as you say it's abnormal. This has nothing to do with the main facts, at least on the surface. ”

　　"So, what the hell is going on?"

　　"You know, after this kind of case happened, we always carefully protected the scene, sent people to guard day and night, and were not allowed to move anything, and indeed no one moved anything. We buried the man this morning and the investigation was completed, so we thought about cleaning the house as well. This carpet is not fixed to the floor, it is just placed there. We happened to flip the carpet and found..."

　　"What? You find out..."

　　Holmes's facial expression was somewhat nervous due to anxiety.

　　"I dare say that in a hundred years you will not be able to guess what we have found. Did you see that blood stain on the carpet? Most of the blood has soaked through the carpet, right? ”

　　"That's the way it should be."

　　"But don't you find it strange that there is no blood on the corresponding place on the white floor?"

　　"No blood! But, surely—"

　　"Although you said there must be, in fact, there is not."

　　He grasped a corner of the carpet and flipped it over at once in order to confirm what he said.

　　"No, the blood stains under and above the carpet are the same, and there must be traces."

　　Lestrade confused the famous detective and laughed happily.

　　"Now I'll show you the mystery. There is a second blood stain, but it is not the same as the first. You can see very clearly. ”

　　As he spoke, he lifted the other corner of the carpet, and immediately a purple-red blood appeared on the white floor. "Mr. Holmes, what do you think is going on?"

　　"Quite simply, the two blood stains were supposed to be consistent, but someone turned the carpet. The carpet is square and not nailed, so it's easy to move. ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, we policemen don't need you to tell us that the carpet must have turned. This is obvious, because the blood on the carpet is supposed to cover the blood on the floor exactly. What I need to know is, who moved the carpet and why? ”

　　I could tell from Holmes's sluggish expression that he was very excited.

　　After a while, he asked, "Restrid, has the policeman at the door been guarding the scene?" ”

　　"Please do as I advise, and you interrogate him carefully. Don't look at us, though. Take him to the back room and you talk to him alone, and he'll probably admit it. Ask him why he dared to let someone in and leave him alone in the house. Don't ask him if he let someone in, just say you know someone has come in, press him, tell him that only by confessing can he get forgiveness. Be sure to do what I say! ”

　　When Restrid was gone, Holmes said to me with great joy, "Watson, look! He couldn't hide his excitement, his spirit was greatly invigorated, and he was in the opposite direction of the calm look he had just had. He quickly pulled open the carpet, immediately crawled on the floor, and tried to flatten each square plank of the floor. He kept lifting the plank with his fingernails, and suddenly, a plank moved. It is like a box lid, turning up from where there are loose pages. There was a small black hole below, and Holmes hurriedly put his hand in it, but when he withdrew his hand, he snorted angrily and disappointedly. The hole is empty.

　　"Quick, Watson, quick, put the carpet away!" No sooner had the plank been fastened and the carpet been set up than the voice of Lestrade in the aisle could be heard. He saw Holmes lazily leaning against the mantelpiece, idle, appearing patient, while covering his mouth with his hands and yawning.

　　"Mr. Holmes, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I'm afraid you'll be impatient, right? He had already admitted it. McPherson came here and let these two gentlemen hear about the good things you've done. ”

　　The tall policeman, blushing with shame and regret, sneaked into the house.

　　"Sir, I really didn't want to do anything bad. A young woman, who walked up to the gate last night, had mistaken the house number. And we talked. It's lonely to be alone here all day. ”

　　"So, what happened next?"

　　"She wanted to see where the murder had happened. She said she saw it in the newspaper. She was a very decent and talkative woman. I wanted her to see if it didn't matter. As soon as she saw the blood on the carpet, she immediately fell to the floor and lay there as if dead. I ran to the back and got some water, but still couldn't wake her up. I went to the 'Ivy Store' around the corner and bought some brandy, but by the time I got it back, the woman had woken up and gone. I think she may be embarrassed and unwilling to see me again. ”

　　"How did that carpet move?"

　　"When I came back, the carpet was a little uneven. You think, she fell to the carpet, and the carpet was against the smooth floor and didn't fix it. Then I laid out the carpet. ”

　　Rethride said solemnly, "Macpherson, this is a lesson, you can't fool me. You must have thought that your negligence would not be discovered, but as soon as I saw the carpet, I knew that someone had come into the house. You didn't lose anything, it's your luck, otherwise, you'll have to suffer a little. I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes, for such a small matter to have you invited. However, I thought that the two blood stains were not together might interest you. ”

　　"Yes, I'm interested. Policeman, has this woman only been here once? ”

　　"Yes, only once."

　　"Who is she?"

　　"I don't know her name. She read the advertisement to apply for a job to type, and walked through the wrong door, a very gentle and kind young woman. ”

　　"Tall? Pretty? ”

　　"Not bad at all, she's a good-looking young woman, arguably pretty. Maybe someone would say she was beautiful. She said, 'Officer, please let me take a look!' She has a way, she will coax people. I had wanted her to look only through the window, and that didn't matter. ”

　　"How is she dressed?"

　　"Very plain, wearing a robe that drags to the feet."

　　"At what time?"

　　"It was just dark. When I came back from buying brandy, people were lighting the lights. ”

　　Holmes said, "Very good. Let's go, Watson, we're going somewhere else, there's one very important thing. ”

　　When we left the house, Restrid remained in the front room, and the remorseful policeman opened the door for us. Holmes went up the steps and turned around, still holding something in his hand. The policeman stared intently, his face showing surprise, and shouted, "Oh my God! Holmes put his index finger to his lips, indicating that he would not let the police speak, and then reached into the pocket of his chest and walked triumphantly into the street, at which point he laughed. He said, "Wonderful! My friend, you see, the curtain has been drawn on the last one. Rest assured that there will be no war, that the glorious future of Mr. Triloni Hop will not be frustrated, that the imprudent monarch will not be punished for the letter, and that the Prime Minister will not have to worry about complications in Europe. As long as we use a little strategy, no one will be half unlucky because of this unfortunate event. ”

　　I feel very envious of such a special person in my heart.

　　I couldn't help but shout, "You solved the problem?" ”

　　"Watson, that's not enough. There are still a few questions that remain as unclear as before. But we know enough about the situation, and if we still can't figure out other problems, it is our own fault. Now let's go straight to Whitehall House Street and put things to an end. ”

　　When we arrived at the residence of the Minister for European Affairs, Sherlock Holmes was looking for Mrs. Hilda Triloni Hop. We walked into the living room for the morning.

　　The lady blushed indignantly and said, "Mr. Holmes! You are so unfair and ungenerous. I have already explained that I hope that my visit to you will be kept secret, lest my husband say that I interfere in his affairs. But you came here to show that you had an affair with me and that you intended to damage my reputation. ”

　　"Madam, unfortunately I have no other way. Since I have been entrusted with the retrieval of this very important letter, I can only ask you to hand it over to me. ”

　　The lady stood up suddenly, and her beautiful and plump face suddenly changed color. Her eyes were staring ahead, her body was shaking, and I thought she was going to faint. She beat her spirits hard, trying to keep her composure, and the complex expressions on her face were completely obscured by strong resentment and surprise for a moment.

　　"Mr. Holmes, you—you insult me."

　　"Madam, please calm down, these tactics are useless, you still hand over the letter."

　　She ran to the handbell calling for the servant.

　　"The housekeeper will ask you out."

　　"Mrs. Hilda, you don't have to ring the bell. If you ring the bell, all my sincere efforts to avoid rumors will be abandoned. You hand over the letter and everything will get better. If you work with me, I can arrange everything. If you are against me, then I will expose you. ”

　　She stood there fearlessly, looking very majestic. Her eyes were fixed on Holmes's, as if to see through Holmes. Her hand was on the handbell, but she restrained herself from shaking.

　　"You want to scare me, Mr. Holmes. You come here to threaten a woman, which is not what a big husband should do. You said you knew something, what did you know? ”

　　"Madam, please sit down first. If you fall, you will hurt yourself. You don't sit down, I don't speak. ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, I'll give you five minutes."

　　"Mrs Hilda, one minute is enough. I know that you have been to Aichoado Lucas and you have given him a letter; I know that you have cleverly gone to that room last night; and I know how you have taken this letter from under the carpet. ”

　　She stared at Holmes, her face gray, and twice she was out of breath and wanted to stop talking.

　　After a while she exclaimed, "You're crazy, Mr. Holmes, you're crazy. ”

　　Holmes took a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. This is the part of the face that was cut off from the photograph. Holmes said, "I've always carried this because I thought it might be useful." The policeman had already recognized the picture. ”

　　She gasped and leaned back in her chair.

　　"Mrs. Hilda, the letter is in your hands, and there is still time for the matter to be corrected. I don't want to get you in trouble. I return this lost letter to your husband, and my responsibility is fulfilled. I hope you will accept my opinion and tell me the truth. This is your last chance. ”

　　Her bravery is actually amazing. At this point, she didn't want to admit defeat. "Mr. Holmes, I will tell you again, you are simply ridiculous."

　　Holmes got up from his chair.

　　"Mrs Hilda, I feel sorry for you. I did my best for you. It was all in vain. Holmes shook the bell. The housekeeper came in.

　　"Is Mr. Triloni Hop at home?"

　　"Sir, he came home at twelve thirty."

　　Holmes looked at his watch and said, "There is still a quarter of an hour to go." I'm going to wait for him. ”

　　As soon as the housekeeper came out of the house, Madame Hilda fell to her knees at The Foot of Holmes, spread her hands, and looked up at Holmes with tears in her eyes.

　　She pleaded bitterly, "Forgive me, Mr. Holmes, forgive me!" Look in the face of God, don't tell my husband! How I love him! I don't want to let him have a little unpleasant thing in his heart, but it will break his heart. ”

　　Holmes lifted up the lady. "Great, madame, you finally understand. Time is running out. Where is the letter? ”

　　She hurried over to a writing desk, took out the key to open the drawer, and took out a letter, the envelope was long and blue in color.

　　"Mr. Holmes, the letter is here, and I swear I never opened it."

　　Holmes muttered, "How do you put the letter back?" Quick, quick, we must find a way! Where is the file box? ”

　　"Still in his bedroom."

　　"How lucky! Madam, get the box here! ”

　　After a while, she came with a flat red box in her hand.

　　"How did you open it before?" Do you have a copy of the key? Yes, of course you have. Open the box! ”

　　Hilda took a small key from her arms. The box opened and was stuffed with documents. Holmes tucked the letter into a document at the bottom, sandwiched between two pages. After closing the box and locking it, Madame sent it back to the bedroom.

　　Holmes said, "Now that everything is ready, just wait for your husband." Ten minutes left. Mrs. Hilda, I have done a great deal to protect you, and you should use these ten minutes to tell me frankly, what is your real purpose in doing such an unusual thing? ”

　　The lady said aloud, "Mr. Holmes, I will tell you everything. I'd rather cut off my right hand than let my husband have a moment of trouble! I am afraid that there will never be a woman in all of London who loves her husband as much as I do, but if he knew what I had done, even though I was forced, he would never have forgiven me. Because he values his fame so much that he will not forget or forgive the faults of others, Mr. Holmes, you must rescue me! My happiness, his happiness, and our lives are all under threat! ”

　　"Madam, speak quickly, time is short!"

　　"Sir, the problem is with one of my letters, an imprudent letter, a stupid letter, that I wrote before I got married, written on a whim in my feelings. My letter is not malicious, but my husband will think it is a crime. If he had read the letter, he would never have trusted me again. I used to want to forget about it. But then lucas the guy wrote to me that the letter was in his hands and was going to be given to my husband. I begged him to be lenient. He said that as long as I took the documents he wanted from the file box, he could return the letter to me. There was a spy in my husband's office who told Lucas that there was such a letter. He assured me that my husband would not be harmed by this. Mr. Holmes, put yourself in the shoes of Mr. Holmes, what should I do? ”

　　"Tell your husband everything."

　　"No, Mr. Holmes, no! On the one hand it was the destruction that led to happiness, and on the other hand it was a very terrible thing to do to get my husband's papers. But in political matters I don't know what the consequences will be, and I understand the importance of love and trust. Mr. Holmes, I took the document! I took the mold of the key. Lucas gave me a copy of the key. I opened the file box, took out the file and sent it to Golddorfer Street. ”

　　"How's it going there?"

　　"I knocked on the door as agreed, he opened the door, and I followed him into the house, but I didn't care about the door of the hall, because I was afraid of being alone with this man. I remember when I went in, there was a woman outside. Our business was quickly done. My letter was on his desk. I handed him the papers and he gave me the letter. Just then, there was a sound at the door and footsteps in the doorway, and Lucas hurriedly flattened the carpet, stuffed the documents into a place where things were hidden, and then covered the carpet again.

　　"What happened after that was like a nightmare. I saw a woman, with a dark face, looking frantic, and heard her voice, she spoke French, and she said: 'I didn't wait in vain, and finally let me find you with her!' The two of them fought fiercely. Lucas had a chair in her hand, and the woman had a shining knife in her hand. The scene was terrible, and I immediately rushed out of the house and left the house. The next morning I read in the newspaper that Lucas had been killed. I was happy that night because I got my letter back. But I didn't think about the consequences.

　　"It was only the next morning that I understood that I had simply replaced the old one with a new one. My husband's anxiety after losing his documents upset me. I was almost on my knees at his feet and told him that I had taken the document. But that means I'm going to tell the past. I came to you that morning to find out the seriousness of the mistake I made. From the moment I took the documents, I was thinking about how to get them back. If Lucas hadn't hidden the letter at the time, I wouldn't have known where it was hidden. How do I get into the house? I went to see the place for two days in a row, but the door was always closed. I made one last attempt last night. How I got it, I've heard about it. I brought the document back and wanted to destroy it because I had no way to return it to my husband without having to admit mistakes. Oh my God, I heard his footsteps on the stairs! ”

　　The Minister of European Affairs rushed into the house excitedly.

　　He said, "What's the news, Mr. Holmes, what's the news?" ”

　　"Kind of hopeful."

　　A look of surprise appeared on his face. "Thank God! The Prime Minister is coming to join me for lunch. Can he come and listen? His nerves were very strong, but I knew he had hardly slept since it had happened. Jacob, you invited the Prime Minister upstairs. Honey, I think it's a political thing, and in a few minutes we'll be in the restaurant and have lunch with you. ”

　　The Prime Minister's demeanor was calm, but from his excited eyes and his large hands that were constantly shaking, I knew that he was as excited as his young colleagues.

　　"Mr. Holmes, I hear you have good news?"

　　My friend replied, "So far, I still haven't figured it out." I may have investigated all the places where the documents may have been lost, and I have not found them, but I am sure that there is no need to worry about danger. ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, that's not going to work. We cannot live forever on the top of the fire. We have to get things out of the way. ”

　　"There was hope of finding the documents, that's why I came here. The more I think about it, the more I feel that the files won't leave your home. "Mr. Holmes!"

　　"If the document had been taken out, it must have been published by now."

　　"Would someone take the documents just to hide them in his house?"

　　"I don't believe anyone took the letter."

　　"So how could the letter not be in the file box?"

　　"Because I know the letter is nowhere else."

　　"I can't believe my eyes anymore!" He hurried to the door. "Where is my wife?" I'm going to tell her it's all over, Hilda! Hilda! We heard him shouting on the stairs.

　　The Prime Minister looked at Holmes, his eyes rolling wildly.

　　He said, "Sir, there must be something wrong with this. How did the file get back into the box? ”

　　Holmes smiled and avoided the pair of curious eyes.

　　"We also have our diplomatic secrets." As he spoke, he picked up his hat and turned and walked toward the door.

　　Grange Estate

　　One frosty morning in the late winter of 1897, at dawn, someone pushed me over the shoulder, and I woke up to see that it was Holmes. With a candle in his hand and an anxious look on his face, he leaned over to tell me that an urgent case had occurred. He shouted, "Quick, Watson, quick! It was urgent. Don't ask anything, get dressed and go! "Ten minutes later we got into the carriage. The carriage rumbled down the silent streets and headed straight for the Charing Cross Street train station. The sky was already faintly bright, and in the gray-white morning fog of London, one or two workers on the morning shift could be dimly seen. Holmes was wrapped in a thick coat and didn't say a word, and so did I, because it was cold and we didn't have breakfast. At the train station, we drank hot tea, walked into the carriage to find a seat, and then felt that our bodies gradually warmed up. The train was heading for Kent, and Holmes kept talking along the way, and I just listened. He took a letter from his pocket and read it aloud:

　　Kent, Marsham, Grange Manor at 3:30 p.m

　　Dear Mr. Holmes, I hope that you will immediately assist me in resolving this very special case. Handling this type of case is your specialty. Now that nothing has moved on the scene except that the lady has been let go, I beg you to hurry up, for it would be inappropriate to leave Sir Eustace alone. Your loyal friend Stanley Hopkin

　　Holmes said: "Hopkin came to me to the scene seven times, and each time he really needed my help. I think you must have received all his cases into your collection, and of course I admit that you are very good at selecting materials, which makes up for the lack of a strong narrative in your account. But you always look at everything from the perspective of writing stories, not from the perspective of scientific solving, which destroys the exemplary nature of these typical cases. You brush through the techniques and details of the detection in order to describe the moving plot to the fullest, and in doing so, you can only make the reader's feelings temporarily excited, not educate the reader. ”

　　I said somewhat unhappily, "Why don't you write it yourself?" ”

　　"Dear Watson, I am going to write. You know, I'm busy at the moment, but I want to write a textbook in my later years to write all about the art of scouting. What we are investigating now is like a murder. ”

　　"So you think Sir Eustace is dead?"

　　"I think so. Hopkin's letter shows that he is quite excited, but he is not an emotional person. I think someone must have been killed, waiting for us to go to the autopsy. If it was suicide, he wouldn't look for us. The letter spoke of having let the lady go, as if she had been locked in her house at the time of the tragedy. Watson, this case happened in high society, you see the texture of the letter paper is very good, there are two letters of E and B on it as the family emblem, the accident site is a picturesque place. Hopkin doesn't write casually, so we must be busy enough this morning. The murder occurred just before twelve o'clock last night. ”

　　"How do you know?"

　　"You can count the train trips and the time it takes to run errands. After the accident, I had to go to the local police, the police had to report to Scotland Yard, Hopkin had to go to the scene, and I had to send a letter to find me, which would take at least a whole night. Well, the Ziselhorst train station has arrived, and our doubts will be resolved in no time. ”

　　We hurriedly walked two miles on a narrow country lane to the front of a garden. An old man who was guarding the door came over and opened it to us, his haggard countenance confirming that an unfortunate event had indeed taken place here. As soon as you enter the palatial garden, you will see two rows of old elm trees, which form a boulevard leading to a low and spacious house with Palladian columns on the front. The central part of the house (1) is covered with ivy and looks very old, but it can be seen from the tall windows that the house has been remodeled and one side is completely newly built. Young and resourceful Hopkin was standing in the doorway greeting us, looking anxious.

　　-------------- (1) Palladian (1518, 1580), Italian architect. - Translator's Note

　　"Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, I am so glad you have come. It's not that the situation is urgent, and I wouldn't be so presumptuous. Now madame has awoken, and she has made things very clear, so we have not much to do. Do you remember Louisam's gang of robbers? ”

　　"What, are those three people with the surname Nguyen Dal?"

　　"Yes, father and two sons. There is no doubt that they did it. They did the case at Siddonham two weeks ago and someone found out and reported it to us. It was really cruel to hurt people again so quickly, they must have done it. Be sure to hang them! ”

　　"So Sir Eustace is dead?"

　　"Yes, his head was broken by a strip."

　　"The coachman told me on the road that Sir's name was Eustace Blackensteiner."

　　"Nice. He is the richest man in Kent. Madame was in the bathroom, and it was pitiful, and she had suffered such a terrible thing, and when I first saw her, she looked like a half-dead person. You'd better meet her and hear her narrate it. Then we went to the restaurant together to check it out. ”

　　Mrs. Blackensteiner was a very unusual person, and I rarely saw a woman as gentle, graceful, and beautiful as her. She has fair skin, blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and her beautiful face. But this unfortunate incident made her look gloomy and haggard. One of her eyes was red and swollen, and it could be seen that she was enduring not only mental, but also physical pain. Her maid, a tall woman with a stern look, was constantly rinsing her eyes with diluted vinegar. Madame lay down on her sleeping chair. As soon as I entered the house, I saw that her sensitive, observant gaze and the alert look on her face showed that her wisdom and courage had not been shaken by this tragedy. She wore a large blue-and-white morning dress with a black gown studded with white metal next to her.

　　She said wearily, "Mr. Hopkin, I've told you everything that happened. Can you repeat it for me? But if you think it's necessary, I'll say it again. Have they been to a restaurant? ”

　　"I think it would be better for them to listen to madame first."

　　"That being the case, I repeat, and I feel terrible when I think of the corpses in the restaurant." She trembled and raised her hand to cover her face, when the cuffs of the wide morning gown slid down, revealing her forearms. Holmes cried out in astonishment: Madame, you have been injured more than once! What's going on?

　　Red and swollen scars. She hurriedly covered it with her clothes. And said, "Nothing. This has nothing to do with the tragedy of the night. You and your friends please sit down, and I will tell you everything.

　　"I am the wife of Eustace Blackensteiner. I've been married for a year. Our marriage was unhappy and I don't think there's any need to cover it up. Even if I want to deny it, my neighbors will tell you. For the relationship between the two parties after marriage, perhaps I should also be partly responsible. I grew up in a more liberal, less conservative environment in southern Australia, where the austere, courteous British life didn't suit my tastes. But the main reason is caused by another well-known thing, that is, Sir Blackenstein has become an alcoholic, and being with such a person, even for an hour, can be annoying. Can you imagine how intolerable it is to tie a lively woman to him all day and all night? Whoever thinks that such a marriage cannot be dissolved is simply a crime, a blasphemy, a corruption of morality. Your ridiculous laws will bring disaster to England, and God will stop all unrighteousness. She sat up straight from her chair, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glowing with anger from her bruised eye sockets. The stern-looking maid forcefully and gently lowered madame's head back on the cushion, and her angry, high-pitched voice gradually turned into an agitated whimper. After a pause she continued:

　　"Last night all the servants slept as usual on the newly built side of the house. The middle part of the house consists of the living room, the kitchen behind it and our upstairs bedroom. My maid Tirisa lives in the attic above my bedroom. No one else lived in this middle part, and no sound would reach the newly built side to wake up the servants. The robbers must have known all this, otherwise they would never have been so unscrupulous.

　　"Sir Eustace rested at about half past ten. By then the servants had returned to their own houses. Only my maid had not yet slept, and she was in her own room in the attic, waiting for orders. Before I go upstairs, I always have to go around to see if everything is in order, which is my habit, because Eustace is unreliable. I always go to the kitchen, the eating room, the shotgun room, the marbles room, the living room, and finally to the dining room. I walked to the window of the dining room, which still had thick curtains hanging from it, and I suddenly felt a gust of wind blowing on my face, and then I saw that the window was still open. I lifted the curtains to the side, and there stood a broad-shouldered prime-aged man who seemed to have just walked into the house. The windows of the restaurant are tall French windows that can also be used as doors to the lawn. I was holding the candlestick in my bedroom, and by the glimmer of the candle, I saw two other people coming in behind this person. I took a step back in fright, and the man immediately pounced on me. He grabbed my wrist first and then stuck my neck again. I was about to shout when his fist hit me hard in the eye, knocking me to the ground. I must have passed out for several minutes, because when I woke up, I saw that they had broken the bell rope of the servant and tied me tightly to an oak chair at the end of the table. My whole body was so tightly bound that I couldn't move at all, and I couldn't shout with a handkerchief in my mouth. It was then that my hapless husband came to the restaurant. Apparently he had heard some suspicious sounds, so he was prepared. He was wearing pajamas and pajama pants, and in his hand was a black thorn plum stick he liked to use. He rushed toward the robber, but the older man had already squatted down and picked up the strip from the stove, and as the jazz passed, he struck him fiercely on the head. Jazz fell down with a groan and didn't move again. I passed out again, and the time I lost consciousness was still about a few minutes. When I opened my eyes, I saw that they had taken knives and forks out of the sideboard and had a beer, each with a glass in his hand. I have already said that one of the robbers is older and bearded, and the other two are underage children. They could be a family—a father with two sons. They whispered together for a while, then walked over to see if they had tied me up. Later, they went out and casually closed the windows. It was a full quarter of an hour before I took the handkerchief out of my mouth, when I called out to the maid to untie me. The other servants heard it too, and we called in the police, who immediately contacted London. That's all I know, gentlemen, and I hope that I will not be allowed to repeat this painful experience in the future. ”

　　Hopkin asked, "Mr. Holmes, is there any problem?" ”

　　Holmes said: "I do not want to make Mrs. Blackensteiner impatient any longer, nor do I want to delay her time any longer. Then he said to the maid, "Before I go to the restaurant, I want you to tell me what you saw." ”

　　She said: "Before these three people could enter the house, I had already seen them. I was sitting by the window of my bedroom, and in the moonlight I saw three people at the door, but I didn't take it seriously. After more than an hour, I heard the shouts of the hostess, and then I ran downstairs and saw this poor man. As she herself had said, Sir fell to the floor, his blood and brain plasma splashing all over the room. I think these things scared her unconscious, and she was tied there, with a lot of blood spattered on her clothes. If it were not for the strong character of This Lady Mary Fletzer of Port Adelaide, Australia, the Lady of The Grange Manor, she would have lost the courage to live. Gentlemen, you have been asking her long enough, and now it is time for her to go back to her room and take a good rest. ”

　　The thin maid, like a mother, put her hand on the hostess's shoulder and led her away.

　　Hopkin said: "They've been together. She had been brought up in her care since childhood, and eighteen months before she had left Australia, she had come with her to England. Her name was Teresa Reiter, and this kind of maid was now nowhere to be found. Mr. Holmes, please go from here. ”

　　Holmes's expression-rich face, the original strong interest has disappeared, I know this is because the case is not complicated, lost its appeal. It seems that the only thing left is to arrest the criminal, and why bother him to arrest the average criminal? The annoyance in my friend's eyes at this moment is like the annoyance that a learned specialist who is invited to the doctor and finds that the patient is only a general disease. But the restaurant at Grange Manor was strange enough to attract The Attention of Holmes and to rekindle the fading interest of the others.

　　The restaurant is tall and large, with an oak ceiling carved with patterns on the roof, rows of deer heads and ancient weapons painted on the surrounding walls, and oak panels at the lower end of the walls. Opposite the door was the tall French-style window we had just talked about, with three small windows on its right, from which the faint winter sun came in, and to its left was a large, deep fireplace with a large and thick mantelpiece. There is a heavy oak chair by the fireplace, armrests on both sides, and horizontal wood underneath. The edges of the chair are tied with a purple-red rope, which runs from the sides of the chair to the horizontal wood below. At the time of the woman's release, the rope was untied, but the knot remained on the rope. These details were only noticed later, as our attention was completely drawn to the corpse lying on the flat carpet in front of the fireplace.

　　At first glance, the deceased was about forty years old, burly and tall. He lay on his back on the ground, his white teeth sticking out of his short, dark beard. He clenched his fists in front of his head, and a short, thick black-thorned plum stick was placed across his hands. He was dark-faced, with a hooked nose, and he was originally handsome, but now his face was crooked and hideous. Apparently he had heard the voice on the bed, for he was wearing an ornate embroidered pajama with a pair of bare feet exposed under the legs of his pants. His head was badly wounded, and the house was covered with blood, which showed that the fatal blow he had received was very fierce. Beside him was the thick strip, and the violent impact had bent it. Holmes examined the passage and the corpse.

　　Then he said, "This elderly Nguyen Dal must be a very powerful person." ”

　　Hopkin said: "Exactly. I have some material about him and he's a very rough guy. ”

　　"We won't have any difficulty catching him."

　　"It's not difficult at all. We have been tracking down his whereabouts, and someone said he went to the United States before. Now that we know that the gang is still in Britain, I'm sure they won't be able to escape. Every port already knew about it, and we would offer a bounty to arrest them before evening. But what makes me wonder is that since they know that madame can tell their appearance, and we can recognize them, why would they do such a stupid thing? ”

　　"One would think that in order to kill the mouth, this gang of robbers would have killed Mrs. Blackensteiner."

　　I reminded him, "They may not have expected Madame to wake up again a moment after she passed out." ”

　　"That's a good chance. If they thought she was completely unconscious, they might not have wanted her life. Hopkin, what's the point about this Jazz? I seem to have heard some strange things about him. ”

　　He was good-hearted when he was sober, but when he was drunk or half-drunk, he became an authentic demon. I said he was half drunk because he wasn't drunk much. As soon as he was drunk, he was like a demon, and he could do anything. Despite his wealth and power, as far as I know, he rarely attends social events. Hearing that he had soaked the dog in kerosene and then burned it on fire, and that the dog belonged to madame, it took a lot of effort to calm down. On another occasion he threw the water bottle at the maid Teresa Rhett, which also caused a storm. The two of us said privately that, all in all, this family is better than him. What are you looking at? ”

　　Holmes knelt on the ground, carefully examining the knot in the red rope that had bound the lady, and then carefully examining the rope that the robber had broken.

　　He said: "The rope is pulled down, and the kitchen bell should be very loud." ”

　　"No one can hear it. The kitchen is at the back of this house. ”

　　"How could the robbers know about this?" How dare he pull this bell rope desperately? ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, you are quite right. I have also thought about this question over and over again. The robber must be familiar with the house, familiar with the habits here. He must have known that the servants had gone to bed earlier, that no one could hear the kitchen bells. So he was in collusion with a servant. This is obvious. But there were eight servants, and all of them behaved in good character. ”

　　Holmes said, "If every servant's situation is basically the same, then suspect the one whose master threw the water bottle on her head." But then suspicion would arise of the mistress whom the maid had faithfully served. However, this is secondary, and it may not be difficult for you to find out the accomplices after you catch Nguyen Dal. The situation described by Madame needs to be confirmed, and we can confirm it through the physical objects on the spot. He went to the window, opened the French-style window, looked at it, and said, "The ground under the window is very hard, and there will be no trace here." The candles on the mantelpiece were lit. ”

　　"Yes, they went out with the light of these candles and the candles in Madame's bedroom."

　　"What did they take?"

　　"Not much to take, only six plates taken from the sideboard. Mrs. Blackensteiner thought that Sir Eustace's death had alarmed the robbers, so it was too late to loot, or they would have looted the house. That makes a lot of sense. It is said that they drank a little wine. ”

　　"It must be to calm the nerves."

　　"Exactly. The three glasses on the sideboard probably didn't move, right? ”

　　"It didn't move, it was still there as it was."

　　"Let's see. Hey, what is this? ”

　　Three glasses are placed side by side, each with wine, and one of the glasses contains the dregs of the wine. The bottle was close to the glass, and there was still half a beer in it, and a long dirty cork next to it. The style of the cork and the dust on the bottle show that the murderer drank not ordinary wine.

　　Holmes's attitude suddenly changed. His expression was no longer so indifferent, and I saw his glowing eyes burst with wisdom and excitement. He picked up the cork and looked at it carefully.

　　He asked, "How did they pull out this cork?" ”

　　Hopkin pointed to the half-open drawer. In the drawer were a few napkins and a large pull-out drill.

　　"Mrs. Blackensteiner said she didn't say anything about using a plug drill?"

　　"I didn't say, Presumably when this gang of robbers opened the bottle, she had lost consciousness."

　　In fact they didn't use a plug drill. It may be the spiral of the knife that does not exceed an inch and a half long. A closer look at the upper part of the cork plug shows that it took three spiral insertions before the cork was pulled out. Its practical stopper drill jams the cork and can be pulled out in one fell swoop. When you catch this person, you will find out that he has a multi-purpose knife. ”

　　"The analysis is so wonderful!" Hopkin said.

　　"But what these glasses mean, I don't know. Mrs. Blackenstein did see the three men drinking, didn't she? ”

　　"Yes, she remembers that very well."

　　"Well, that's all there is to it. Is there anything else to say? But, Hopkin, you have to admit that these three glasses are very special. How? You can't see anything special? Well, leave it alone. It may be that a person with some expertise and ability is reluctant to take simple explanations at hand and seek complex answers. Of course, the glass thing may also be accidental. Well, Hopkin, goodbye! I don't think I can help you anymore, as if the case were clear to you. If you catch Nguyen Dal or if there is any new situation, please let me know. I am sure that you will soon conclude this case smoothly. Watson, let's go, I think we can get home and do something nice. ”

　　On the way home, I saw Holmes with a puzzled look on his face. Sometimes he tried to dispel the mystery and suddenly talked freely; sometimes his doubts were thick, his eyebrows were furrowed, and his eyes were dazed; it could be seen that his thoughts had returned to the grand dining room of the Grange Manor. Just as our train was slowly moving from a small suburban station, he suddenly jumped onto the platform and pulled me off the train.

　　The train turned around and disappeared completely, and he said, "Good friend, please forgive me, for making you feel sudden, because I suddenly had a thought in my heart, Watson, no matter what, I can't ignore this case." My instincts forced me to do so. Things are upside down, all upside down, I dare say upside down. But what Madame said was impeccable, and the maid's proof was sufficient, and even the details were quite accurate. What do I disagree with? Three wine glasses, those three wine glasses. If I hadn't taken things for granted, if I hadn't been disturbed by fabricated facts, wouldn't I have gotten more empirical evidence if I had looked at everything at this time? I'm sure it will. Watson, let's sit on this stool and wait for the train to Zisselhorst. I will tell you my evidence now, but you must first exclude from your mind the idea that everything the maid and the mistress says must be true. Never let this lady's flattering personality influence your judgment.

　　"If we think about it calmly, there are some details in Madame's words that can arouse our suspicions. The robbers had been making trouble at Sidonham two weeks earlier. Their activities and appearance were already in the newspapers, so whoever wanted to make up a story about a robber would of course think of them. In fact, robbers who have already made a lot of money often want to enjoy it quietly and quietly, rather than taking risks easily. In addition, robbers generally do not rob so early, nor do they hurt a woman to stop her from shouting, in fact, when they hit her, she will shout harder. In addition, if the number of robbers is large enough to deal with a person, they generally do not kill people. Also, they are generally very greedy, and they will take away whatever they can take, not just a little. Finally, the robbers generally drank cleanly, and there was no half of the bottle left. Watson, there are so many unusual things, what do you think? ”

　　"These things add up to a great significance, of course, but each of these things is possible in itself. The strangest thing I think is that I would tie my wife to a chair. ”

　　I haven't quite figured this out yet. Watson, apparently, should have either killed her or brought her to a place where they couldn't see their escape. But, in any case, what the lady said was not entirely true. In addition, there is the problem of wine glasses. ”

　　"What about wine glasses?"

　　"Have you figured out the situation with the wine glass?"

　　"I made it clear."

　　"It was said that there were three people drinking from a cup. Do you think this is possible? ”

　　"Why is it impossible? All three glasses were dipped in wine. ”

　　"Yes, but there is only one cup with dregs in it." Did you notice that? What do you think? ”

　　"The last glass when pouring wine is likely to be dregs."

　　"Wrong. The bottle is full of wine, so you can't imagine that the first two cups are very clear and the third cup is very cloudy. There are two explanations, only two. One is: after filling the second cup, shake the bottle vigorously, so that the third cup has dregs. But that seems unlikely. Yes, certainly not. ”

　　"So how do you explain it?"

　　"Only two cups were used, and the dregs of both cups were poured into the third cup, so the illusion was created, as if there were three people drinking there. So isn't all the dregs in the third cup? Yes, I think it must be so. If I happen to give a factual explanation of this small detail, then it means that the lady and her maid deliberately lied to us, and they could not believe a word of what they said, and the case immediately became a very unusual case. They must have had a great reason for covering up the criminals, so we could not rely on them, and it was up to us to try to find out the situation. That's what I'm going to do at the moment. Watson, the train to Siddonham came. ”

　　The people at Grange Manor were very surprised by our return. Stanley Hopkin had gone to headquarters to report, so Holmes went into the dining room, locked the door from the inside, and examined it carefully for two hours. The results provide a reliable basis for the correct conclusions he draws from logical reasoning. He sat in a corner and watched carefully, as if a student were intently watching the professor's demonstration. I followed him through a nuanced examination. Windows, curtains, carpets, chairs, ropes, look closely one by one, think hard. Sir's body had been removed, and everything else was still what we had seen in the morning. To my greatest surprise, Holmes climbed onto the sturdy mantelpiece. The red rope that had broken only a few inches was still attached to a wire and was hanging high above his head. He looked up at the rope for a moment, and to get closer to the rope, he knelt on one leg on a wooden pedestal on the wall. This brought him and the broken rope only a few inches away, but it seemed that it was not the rope but the pedestal itself that drew the attention of others. Later, he jumped down satisfied.

　　He said, "Watson, yes, our case is solved, and this is the most special case in our collection of stories."

　　Cough, how dull I was, almost made the worst mistake! Now, except for a few details that are not very clear, the whole process of the matter has been clear and complete. ”

　　"Have you figured out who is a criminal?"

　　"Brother Watson, there is only one criminal, but a very difficult person to deal with. He was as strong as a lion—he could bend the whole strip in one fell swoop. He was six feet three inches tall, as agile as a squirrel, and his hands were dexterous and his mind was also very clever, because he had made up the whole ingenious story. What we came across was an elaborate masterpiece of this particular character. However, there was a flaw in the bell rope, and the bell rope should not have shown a flaw. ”

　　"What's going on?"

　　"Watson, if you want to pull the bell rope down, where do you think the rope should be broken?" Of course, it is in the place where it meets the wire. Why did the rope break three inches from the wire? ”

　　"Because it's worn out there?"

　　"Yes. The head we were able to inspect was worn. The man was cunning and deliberately worn one end of the rope with a knife. But the other end is not worn. From here you couldn't see clearly, but from the mantelpiece, the end was flat cut and didn't show any signs of wear. You can figure out what turned out to be. The man needed a rope, but he was afraid that the bell would sound an alarm, so he did not pull the rope off. What does he do? He jumped on the mantelpiece, still out of reach, so he knelt on one leg on the pedestal—there were traces of dust on the pedestal—and took out his knife to cut the rope. I couldn't reach that place, at least three inches, so I deduced that he was three inches taller than me. You see the traces on the oak chair seat! What is that? ”

　　"Blood."

　　"It's indeed blood. This shows that Madame's lies are not worth refuting. If she was sitting in a chair when the robbers were committing the crime, where did the blood come from? She must have sat down in a chair after her husband's death. I can assure you that the black dress had the same traces. Watson, we did not lose, but we won, starting with defeat and ending with victory. I'm going to have a few words with the nanny Tiriza. In order to get the situation we need, we must be extra careful when we talk. The stern Australian nanny Teresa is noticeable, reticent, suspicious and impolite. Holmes was friendly to her, listened gently to her narration, and after a while finally won her trust. She did not hide her hatred for her dead master.

　　"Yes, sir, he threw the water bottle at me. Once I heard him scold the mistress, and I told him that if the mistress's brother were here, he would not dare to scold. So he picked up the water bottle and threw it at me. If my mistress hadn't stopped him, he might have thrown it a dozen times in a row. He always abused the hostess, but the hostess was not willing to make a fuss. And Madame was reluctant to tell me how she had been abused. You saw the ladies with scars on their arms this morning, and they wouldn't tell me, but I knew it was a pin. This abominable devil! This man is dead, I still say so about him, God forgive me! When we first met him, he was very amiable, but it was eighteen months ago, and we both felt as if eighteen years had passed. The hostess had just arrived in London. She had never left home before, and it was her first trip out. Sir won the hearts of his hostess with his title, money, and hypocritical London style. The hostess went the wrong way and was punished, and it was enough for her. The second month after arriving in London, we met him. We arrived in June, and that's what we met in July. They got married last year. Oh, she came downstairs to the living room again, and she was about to meet you, but you must not ask too many questions, because all this is enough for her to be uncomfortable. ”

　　The maid went into the living room with us. Mrs. Blackensteiner was still leaning back in that chair, in better spirits. The maid began to warm the mistress's bruised eyes again.

　　Madame said, "I hope you don't come to interrogate me again." ”

　　Holmes said very gently: "No. Mrs. Breckenstein, I will not cause you any unnecessary distress. My wish is to keep you quiet because I know you have suffered a lot. If you are willing to trust me as a friend, you will prove that I will not fail to live up to your sincerity. ”

　　"What do you want me to do?"

　　"Tell me the truth."

　　"Mr. Holmes!"

　　"Mrs. Blackenstein, there is no use in covering up. You may have heard of my little fame. I vouch for my reputation that what you are saying is completely fabricated. ”

　　Madame Breckensteiner and the maid gazed at Holmes together, the lady pale and her eyes filled with fear.

　　Tirisa shouted, "You're a shameless fellow! Are you saying that my mistress lied? ”

　　Holmes rose from his chair.

　　"Don't you have anything to say to me?"

　　"I said it all."

　　"Mrs. Blackensteiner, think again. Wouldn't it be better to be frank? ”

　　After a while, the lady's beautiful face showed a hesitant look, followed by a resolute expression, and finally she fell back into a sluggish look. She said blankly:

　　"Everything I know has been said."

　　Holmes took the other hat, shrugged his shoulders, and said, "I'm sorry. We didn't say anything more, so we walked out of the living room and out of the house. There was a pool in the courtyard and my friend walked towards it. The pool was completely frozen, but to feed a swan, a hole was punched in the ice. Holmes gazed at the pool for a moment and continued on to the gate. He hastily wrote a short note to Hopkin in the concierge room and handed it to the janitor.

　　"Things can also succeed or they can fail," he said. But to prove that our second time wasn't in vain, we had to do something for Hopkin. Now I can't tell him what we're going to do. I think we should now go to the office of the shipping company on the Adelaide-Southampton route, which is probably at the end of Polmore Street. There is another route between the UK and South Australia, but let's go to this larger company first. ”

　　The manager of the company met with us immediately after seeing Holmes's business card, and Holmes quickly got the information he needed. In June 1895 only one ship arrived in British ports. The ship, called the Rock of Gibraltar, was the company's largest and best vessel. I consulted the passenger list and found the names of Lady Fletcher and the maid in Adelaide. Now the boat was heading to South Australia, somewhere south of the Suez Canal. It was largely unchanged from 1895, with only one change — First Mate Jack Crocker had been appointed captain of the newly built Ship "The Rock of Bass", which was set sail from Southampton in two days. The captain lived in Setonham, and he might come to the company in a little while to receive instructions, and if we were willing to wait, we could see him.

　　Mr. Holmes did not want to see him, but wanted to know about his past performances and conduct.

　　The manager considers his job performance to be flawless. No official on board could match him. As for the human side, he is also reliable. But after disembarking, he was a rough, rash fellow, impatient and easily agitated, yet he was loyal, sincere, and warm-hearted. When Holmes learned of the main situation, we left Adelaide, the South Anton Shipping Company, and took a carriage to Scotland Yard. But he did not go in, but sat in the carriage, frowning and pondering. After a while, he asked the coachman to drive to the telegraph office on Charing Cross Street, took a copy of the telegram, and then we went back to Baker Street.

　　When we walked into the house, he said, "Watson, no, I can't do that." As soon as the summons was issued, he could not be rescued. Once or twice, I became acutely aware that the harm caused by my identification of the perpetrator was greater than that caused by the crime itself. I have now learned the need for caution, and it would be better for me to fool English law than to fool my conscience. We need to learn more about the situation before we act. ”

　　It was almost evening when Hopkin came. His things didn't go well enough.

　　"Mr. Holmes, I see that you are such a magician. I sometimes think you have the power of a god. How would you know that the lost silverware was under the pool? ”

　　"I don't know."

　　"But you asked me to check the pool."

　　"Have you found these silverware?"

　　"Found it."

　　"I'm glad I helped you."

　　"But you didn't help me. You make things harder. What kind of robber is this when he steals a silverware and throws it in a nearby pool? ”

　　"This behavior is of course very strange. I just thought: the person who steals the silver without the need for it, that is, the person who steals it for the sake of creating a scam, must be anxious to throw away the silverware. ”

　　"Why do you have such thoughts?"

　　"I was just thinking it might be. When the robbers came out of the window, they saw that there was a pool in front of them, and there was a hole in the ice of the pool, and it was not best to hide here? ”

　　Stanley Hopkin exclaimed, "Ah, the best place to hide things!" Yes, yes, I get it all! It was still early in the morning, and there were people on the street, and they were afraid of being seen with silverware, so they sank the silverware into the pool, planning to come back and get it when there was no one. This explanation is apt, Mr. Holmes, better than your claim about the scam. "Yes, your explanation is good. No doubt my ideas are off the beaten track, but you have to admit that they can never find these silverwares again. ”

　　"Yes, sir, yes. But it's all up to you. However, I was greatly frustrated. ”

　　"Frustration?"

　　"Yes, Mr. Holmes. Nguyen Dar and a gang of robbers were arrested in New York this morning. ”

　　"Oops, Hopkin! This, of course, is inconsistent with your statement that they killed people in Kent last night. ”

　　"It's exactly that, completely inconsistent. However, in addition to the Nguyen Dars, there were three other gangs of robbers, or perhaps new robbers that the police had not yet heard of. ”

　　"Yes, it's entirely possible. What are you going to do? ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, I will not be disturbed if I do not bring the case to light. Do you have any inspiration for me? ”

　　"I've already told you."

　　"What is it?"

　　"I suggested it was a scam."

　　"Why is it a hoax, Mr. Holmes, why?"

　　"Of course, that's a real problem. But I'm just giving you that opinion. You may find this perception to be somewhat justified. You don't stay for dinner anymore? Well, goodbye, please tell us how you're going. ”

　　After dinner and tidying up the table, Holmes spoke again of the case. He lit his pipe, changed into slippers, and put his feet in front of the brightly lit fireplace. Suddenly he looked at the table.

　　"Watson, I think there will be a new development in the situation."

　　"When?"

　　"It's now, within minutes. I suppose you must have thought I had a bad attitude towards Hopkin. ”

　　"I trust your judgment."

　　"Watson, your answer is wonderful. You should look at it this way, what I have learned is unofficial, what he has learned is official. I have the right to make personal judgments, but he doesn't. He must say everything he knows, or he will not be faithful to his duties. In an inconclusive case, I do not want to put him at a disadvantage, so I reserve what I have learned until my opinion is determined. ”

　　"When will you be sure?"

　　"The time has come. Now please watch the last scene of this strange drama. ”

　　As soon as we heard a sound on the stairs, our door was opened, and in it was a young man of the most standard. He was tall, with a golden beard, dark blue eyes, skin the color of the tropical sun, and his pace was so agile that it was enough to show that he was not only physically strong but also very flexible. He closed the door casually and stood there, his hands clenched into fists, his chest lying together, trying to suppress the uncontrollable feelings in his heart.

　　"Please sit down, Captain Clock. You got my telegram, didn't you? ”

　　Our guests sat down in an armchair and looked at us one by one with questioning eyes.

　　"I received your telegram and came on time as you requested. I heard you've been to the office. I can't escape. Let's start with the worst! What are you going to do with me? Arrest me? You name it! You can't sit there and play cat and mouse tricks with me! ”

　　Holmes said, "Give him a cigar." Captain Klock, smoke a cigarette, you have to control your feelings. If I had treated you like a criminal, I wouldn't have sat here and smoked with you, you have to believe that. Tell me everything frankly and we can think of some way. Play tricks with me, and I will destroy you. ”

　　"What do you want me to do?"

　　"Tell me honestly about what happened at Grange Manor last night—I remind you, honestly, without adding anything, without diminishing. I've learned a lot that if you have a little bit of concealment, I'm going to go to the window and blow the whistle, and then I can't control you anymore. ”

　　The sailor thought for a moment, then patted his leg with his mucuna's black hand.

　　He shouted, "Look at my luck!" I believe that you are a person who is consistent in words and deeds, and I tell you the whole story. But one thing I want to make clear first: when it comes to myself, I don't regret anything, I'm not afraid, I can do this kind of thing again and be proud of it. That damn guy, he has a few lives, I'll kill him a few times! But, when it comes to Madame, Mary-Marie Fletzer, I am reluctant to call her by the cursed name Madame. For her, I was willing to give my life in exchange for her beautiful smile. The thought of putting her in trouble made me uneasy. But what else can I do? Gentlemen, I tell you about me, and then I ask you to put yourself in the shoes of me and think, what else can I do?

　　"I'm going to start at the beginning. You seem to know it all, so I reckon you know we met on the Rock of Gibraltar, she's a passenger, I'm the first mate. From the first day I met her, she was the only person on my heart. Day by day I loved her more and more during the voyage, and many times I knelt on the deck in the dark while on night shifts, kissing the deck, just because I knew she was walking there. She and I don't have a special relationship. She treated me like a normal woman, and I didn't complain. Love exists only on my side alone, and her side is only friends, friendships. When we parted, she still had nothing to worry about, and I was no longer a free person.

　　"After I returned from my second voyage, I heard she was married. Of course she can marry someone she loves. Titles, money, she is entitled to enjoy. She was born to enjoy all that is good and noble. I'm not sad about her marriage, I'm not a selfish guy. Instead, I was glad that she had made good luck and avoided a penniless sailor. That's how I love Mary Fletzer.

　　"I didn't expect to meet her again, but I was promoted after the last voyage and the new ship hadn't set sail yet, so I had to wait two months with my sailors at Setonham. One day, I was walking down a trail in the countryside and met her old maid, Teresa Reiter. Teresa told me everything about her and everything about her husband. Gentlemen, I tell you that this is going to drive me mad. The drunkard, who didn't even deserve to lick the heels of her shoes, dared to beat her. I met Tirisa again. Later I met Mary in person, and I saw her again. She didn't want to see me again. But one day I was told to go to sea within a week, so I decided to see her once before I left. Teresa always helped me because she loved Mary, and she hated the villain as much as I did. Tirisa told me about their habits. Mary often read a book in her cabin downstairs and saw it late. Last night I quietly went there and knocked lightly on her window. At first she wouldn't open the window for me, but I knew she loved me inside, and she wouldn't let me freeze outside at night. She whispered to me that she wanted me to turn over to the big front window, and I turned over and saw the window open, and I walked into the restaurant. Once again I heard her say in person what made me very angry, and once again I cursed the beast that had abused my beloved. Gentlemen, she and I were just standing behind the window, and God testified that we were completely innocent, when the man rushed in like a madman, cursed her with the most ugly words, and slammed him in the face with the stick in his hand. I jumped over and grabbed the ordinary strip, and the two of us fought to the death. Look at my arm, he hit me the first time. Then it was time for me to hit him, and I beat him to death like a rotten pumpkin. Do you think I regret it? No, either he died or I died, and more importantly, either he died or Mary died, how could I keep Mary in the hands of a madman? That's how I killed him. Is it my fault? Gentlemen, what if one of you two is in my position?

　　As he hit Mary, Mary screamed, and Teresa heard voices coming down from the upstairs room. There was a beer on the sideboard, and I opened it and poured a little into Mary's mouth, because she was half dead in fright. Then I took a sip myself. Tirisa was very calm, it was the idea of the two of us, and we made it like a robber killing someone. Teresa repeatedly told her hostess the story we had made up, and I climbed up to cut the bell rope. Then I tied Mary to a chair and made the end of the rope weary, otherwise people would wonder how the robbers could go up and cut the rope. Later I took some silverware in order to pretend to be a manor and was robbed. Then I left, and after a quarter of an hour of discussion, I called the police. I threw the silverware into the pool and went to Sidonham, and I felt that this was the greatest good thing I had ever done in my life. This is the truth, the whole truth, Mr. Holmes, is it intended that I will be killed? ”

　　Holmes smoked silently and did not speak for a moment. Then he walked up to our guest and shook his hand. He said, "What you're saying is exactly what I thought. I know that everything you say is true. Only acrobats or sailors could reach the bell rope from the support on the wall, and only the sailor would strike the knot of the kind on the chair. The lady had only been in contact with the sailor on that voyage, and since she had done her best to cover the sailor, it meant that the sailor had the same social status as her, and that she loved the sailor. So you know, once I get the right clues, it's extremely easy to find you. ”

　　"I thought the police would never see through our schemes."

　　"I'm sure that cop never will. Captain Crocker, although I admit that you acted after a very serious provocation, the matter is serious. I'm not sure if your self-defense can be counted as legitimate. It was up to the British Empire jury to decide. But I sympathize with you so much that you can escape within twenty-four hours, and I promise no one will stop you. ”

　　"So you'll be fine?"

　　"Surely nothing will happen."

　　The sailors' faces were flushed.

　　"How can a man make such a suggestion? I also knew a little bit about the law, and I knew that Mary would be detained as an accomplice. Do you think I can make her bear the consequences while I slip away myself? No, Mr. Holmes, let them dispose of me as they please, but in the face of God, please find a way to spare Mary from judgment. ”

　　Holmes held out his hand to the sailor for the second time.

　　"I'm just testing you, and this time you've stood the test again." However, I have a great deal of responsibility. I've already inspired Hopkin that if he's not good at thinking, I'm not going to care anymore. Captain Krock, that is the case, and we will resolve it in accordance with the appropriate form of the law. Captain Clock, you are a prisoner. Watson, you are a British juror, and you are the most suitable juror. I'm a judge. Gentlemen jurors, you have heard testimony. Do you think the prisoner is guilty or innocent? ”

　　I said, "Not guilty, Your Honor." ”

　　"The cry of the people is the cry of God. Captain Krock, you can retire. As long as the law cannot identify other victims, I guarantee your safety. You will return to this woman in a year's time, and hopefully her future and your future will prove that our judgment tonight was correct. "

　　Lone cyclist

　　From 1894 to 1901, Mr. Sherlock Holmes was unusually busy. It can be said that in the past eight years, there has not been a single difficult and famous case of public office that has not consulted Holmes. There are also hundreds of private cases, many of which are intricate and distinctive, and Holmes also plays an important role. Many astonishing achievements and some inevitable failures are the result of this long period of continuous work. Since I have a good record of these cases, many of which I have personally participated in, it is conceivable that it will not be easy to figure out which I should choose to make public. However, I can, as I have done in the past, give preference to those cases that are not known for the ferocity of the crime, but are fascinating by the cleverness and drama of the closure. For this reason, I chose the story of Miss Violet Smith, The Lone Cyclist of Charrington, and the bizarre ending we investigated, which ended in an unexpected tragedy. I will now introduce the situation to the reader. Admittedly, these things did not add much to my friend's famed talents, but there were a few points in this case that stood out, unlike the long criminal record from which I had gathered information to write these little stories.

　　I rummaged through my notes from 1895 and found that it was Saturday, April 23, and we had heard Violet Smith talk about ourselves for the first time. I remember that Holmes was extremely unwelcome in her visit, because at that time he was preoccupied with a very difficult and complex problem, which involved the special problem of the famous tobacco king John Vincent Harden. My friend's favorite thing to do is to be precise and focused, and to bother him most when doing what he has at hand. Nevertheless, he was not stubborn by nature, and it was impossible to refuse the beautiful girl who was slender, well-mannered and dignified to tell her what had happened to her, not to mention that she had personally come to Baker Street so late in the evening to plead with him for help and guidance. Although Holmes declared that the time was full, it was to no avail, for the girl had made up her mind that she had to speak. It was clear that she had not achieved her goal and would not be able to get her to leave unless force was used. Holmes, with a helpless look, smiled reluctantly, invited the beautiful uninvited guest to sit down, and told us the truth about the troubles she had encountered.

　　"At least it won't be a matter of hindering your good health," said Holmes, looking around her with those keen eyes, "and a cyclist like you must be energetic." ”

　　She looked at her feet in amazement, and I also noticed that the soles of her shoes were hairy on the edges of the pedals.

　　"Yes, I ride a bicycle a lot, Mr. Holmes, and I have come to visit you today precisely because of the cycling thing."

　　My friend took the girl's unenserved hand and examined it with all engrossed attention and silence, as a scientist had looked at a specimen.

　　"I'm sure you'll forgive me. "It's my business," said Holmes, putting the girl's hand down, "I almost mistook you for a typist. Obviously, you're certainly a musician. Watson, have you noticed the spoon-shaped fingertips that both professions share? But there was a glamour on her face," the woman turned her face calmly to the light, "something that typists don't have." So, this lady is a musician. ”

　　"Yes, Mr. Holmes, I teach music."

　　"Judging by the look on your face, I think you're teaching music in the country."

　　"Yes, sir, near Farnham, on the Surrey border."

　　"It's a good place to think of a lot of interesting things. Watson, you must remember that it was near there that we captured archifucker Archie Stamford. Well, Miss Violet, close to Farnham, on the Surrey border, what happened to you? ”

　　The girl said the following strange and bizarre thing very clearly and calmly:

　　"Mr. Holmes, my father has passed away. His name was James Smith and he was the band conductor of the Old Imperial Theatre. My mother and I are unrelated in the world, and I have only one uncle, Ralph Smith, who went to Africa twenty-five years ago and has not heard from him since. After my father died, we washed like a class, but one day they told us that the Times had an advertisement asking about our whereabouts. You can imagine how excited we were, because we thought someone had left us an inheritance. We immediately went to the lawyer by the name published in the newspaper, where we met two gentlemen, Carathers and Woodley, who had returned from South Africa to visit their families. They said my uncle was a friend of theirs and had died in Johannesburg a few months earlier in great poverty. Before my uncle died, he asked them to go to his relatives and make sure that his relatives were not impoverished. It seems to make us wonder that my uncle Ralph didn't care about us when he was alive, but he took care of us so carefully when he died. But Mr. Carassas explained that because my uncle had just heard of his brother's death, he felt a great responsibility for our fate. ”

　　"Excuse me," said Holmes, "when did you meet?" ”

　　"Last December, it's been four months."

　　"Please go on."

　　"I looked very annoying to Mr. Woodley, a rough young man with a fat face and a red beard, his hair scattered on either side of his forehead, always squeezing his eyebrows at me. I thought he was abominable, and I believe Cyril must have been unhappy that I knew this man. ”

　　"Oh, Cyril is his name!" Holmes said with a smile.

　　The girl blushed and smiled.

　　"Yes, Mr. Holmes, Cyril Morton, is an electrical engineer, and we hope to get married in the late summer. Oops, how did I rip the others up? I would like to say that Mr. Woodley was very annoying, and that the older Mr. Carathers was more polite. Although his face was earthy, his face was shaved, and he was silent, he was polite and smiling. He inquired about our situation and found that we were very poor, so he asked me to go to him and teach his ten-year-old only daughter. I said I didn't want to leave my mother, and he said I could come home every weekend to see her. He promised to give me a hundred pounds a year, which of course was a very generous honorarium. So finally I agreed and went to Chiltern Farm, about six miles from Farnham. Mr. Carathers, widower, hired a housekeeper named Mrs. Dixon to take care of the household, and the old woman was old and respectable. The kid was cute too and everything went as expected. Mr. Carathers was very kind and passionate about music, and we had a great time together in the evenings, and on weekends I went back to my town to visit my mother at home.

　　"The first unpleasant thing in my happy life was the arrival of the red-bearded Mr. Woodley. He's visiting for a week, oops! It was like three months for me. He was a terrible man, overbearing at others and even more unscrupulous toward me. He made many ugly gestures to show his love for me, to brag about his wealth, and to say that if I married him, I would get the most beautiful diamond in London. Finally, when I kept ignoring him, one day after dinner he grabbed me and took me in his arms—he had nasty bull power—and swore that if I didn't kiss him, he wouldn't let go. Just then Mr. Carathos entered the house and pulled him away from me. For this, Woodley and the host turned their faces and knocked Carathus to the ground, making a big hole in their faces. Woodley's visit ended here, and the next day Mr. Carassas apologized to me and promised never to let me suffer such humiliation again. I haven't seen Mr. Woodley since.

　　"Now, Mr. Holmes, I have finally spoken of the specific matters which I have come to ask you for today. You must know that every Saturday morning I ride to Farnham Station and catch the train into town at twelve twenty-two. I came out of Chiltern Farm, a very remote and particularly desolate section of the road, more than a mile long, with charrington heather on one side and woods in the outer ring of Charrington Manor on the other. You won't find a more desolate place than this stretch of road. Before you reach the road near Crooksbury Hill, it's extremely difficult to encounter a horse-drawn carriage or a farmer. Two weeks ago, I passed by this place, and when I looked back by chance, I saw a man riding a bicycle about two hundred yards behind me, looking like a middle-aged man with a short black beard. Before I got to Farnham, I looked back and saw that the man had disappeared, so I didn't think about it anymore. But, Mr. Holmes, I saw the man again on that stretch of road when I returned on Monday. You can imagine how surprised I must have been. And the next Saturday and Monday, no different from the last time, it happened again, and I was more and more surprised. The man kept a distance and never bothered me, but it was very strange after all. I told Monsieur Carrassus, who seemed to take what I said very seriously, and told me that he had ordered a horse and a light carriage, so that in the future I would not have to worry about having no companion when I crossed that remote road again.

　　"The horses and the wagons were supposed to arrive this week, but for some reason the seller didn't deliver, so I had to ride to the train station anyway. That's what happened this morning. I came to the Charrington Heather Bush, and looked off into the distance, and it was not bad at all, and the man was in that place, exactly the same as two weeks before. He was always far away from me, and I couldn't see his face clearly, but certainly not someone I knew. He wore a black dress and a cloth hat. I could only see the black beard on his face. Today I am not afraid, but full of doubts, and I am determined to find out who he is and what he is going to do. I slowed down my car and he slowed down his car. Later, I stopped riding, and he didn't ride anymore. So I had a plan to deal with him. There was a sharp turn in the road, so I pedaled a little bit around the corner and stopped to wait for him. I counted on him to turn the corner quickly, and before he could stop, he was ahead of me. But he didn't show up at all. I went back and looked around the corner. I could see a mile away, but there was no sign of him on the way. What was particularly amazing was that there was no fork in the road, and he could not walk away. ”

　　Holmes smiled softly and rubbed his hands. "This thing does have its peculiarities," he said, "from the time you turn a corner until you find no one on the road, how long has it been?" ”

　　"Two or three minutes."

　　"Then he didn't have time to retreat from the same road, and you said there was no fork in the road?"

　　"Nothing."

　　"Then he must have walked away from the path by the road."

　　"It's impossible to get from the side of the heather bush, or I would have seen him a long time ago."

　　"Then, according to the method of exclusionary reasoning, we have ascertained the fact that he went to the side of Charrington Manor, and as far as I know, the foundation of Charrington Manor is on the side of the main road. Is there anything else? ”

　　"No, Mr. Holmes, it is only because I am very confused and very unhappy that I have come to see you and ask for your guidance."

　　Holmes sat in silence for a moment.

　　"Where is the gentleman you're engaged to?" Holmes finally asked.

　　"He's at Midland Electric Company in Coventry."

　　"He won't come to see you unexpectedly, will he?"

　　"Oh, Mr. Holmes! Don't I know him yet! ”

　　"Are there any other men who love you?"

　　"There were a few before I knew Cyril."

　　"What about after that?"

　　"If you count Woodley as someone who loves me, that's the terrible man."

　　"Is there no one else?"

　　Our beautiful client seemed a little embarrassed.

　　"Who is he?" Holmes asked.

　　"Oh, it may be purely my wild thoughts; but sometimes I seem to think that my employer, Mr. Carathers, is very interested in me. We met often, and I accompanied him in the evenings, and he never said anything. He was a very good gentleman, but a girl always understood in her heart. ”

　　"Ha!" Holmes looked very serious, "What does he make a living for?" ”

　　"He's a rich man."

　　"Doesn't he have a four-wheeled carriage or a horse?"

　　"Ah, at least he lived quite affluently. He goes into town two or three times a week and is very concerned about South African gold stocks. ”

　　"Miss Smith, you're going to tell me everything newly discovered. I'm busy now, but I'll take the time to investigate your case. In the meantime, don't take action without notifying me. Goodbye, I'm sure we'll get your good news. ”

　　"It is only natural that such a girl would have some suitors," said Holmes thoughtfully, smoking a pipe, "but don't go for a bike ride on a remote village road." There is no doubt a person who secretly fell in love with her. But there are some strange and thought-provoking details in this case, Watson. ”

　　"Are you saying he only showed up in that place?"

　　"Nice. The first thing we had to do was find out who had rented the Charrington Estate. Then find out what the relationship between Carathusus and Woodley is, because they are completely different types of people. Why were they eager to visit Ralph Smith's relatives? Another point is that the Carassas family is six miles away from the station, and they don't even buy a horse, but they have to pay twice as much to hire a governing female teacher. Strange, Watson, very strange! ”

　　"Are you going to go down and investigate?"

　　"No, my dear friend, you go down and investigate. It could be a small conspiracy without teeth, and I can't interrupt other major investigative work for it. On Monday you go to Farnham early in the morning, hiding near the Charrington Heather and observing these facts for yourself. Act on your own judgment, and then, find out who lives at Charrington Manor, and come back and report to me. Now, Watson, before getting a few pieces of reliable evidence that I hope to use to close the case, I have nothing else to say about the matter. ”

　　The girl told us she was leaving from Waterloo station at 9:50 on Monday, so I left early to catch the 9:13 train. Arriving at Farnham Station, I effortlessly asked for the Charrington Strip. It was impossible to miss the girl's distress zone, which was covered with open heather bushes on one side and old yew hedges on the other, surrounding a garden with giant trees towering in the sky. The manor had a cobblestone road covered with lichens, and the stone pillars on either side of the gate were full of tattered heraldic motifs. In addition to the gravel road in the middle, I found several hedges with openings and paths to penetrate. The house cannot be seen from the road, and the surrounding environment looks dark and decaying.

　　The heather is covered with clusters of yellow plantagenets that sparkle in the brilliant spring sun. I chose a place of invisibility behind the bushes so that I could both observe the gates of the manor and see a long stretch of road on both sides. When I left the main road, the road was empty, and now there was a man running in a car from the opposite direction facing me. He was dressed in black, and I saw that he had a black beard. He came to the end of the Charrington homestead, jumped out of the car, pushed the car into an opening in the hedge, and disappeared from my sight.

　　After a quarter of an hour, a second cyclist appeared. This time it was the girl who came from the train station. I saw her riding up to the Charrington hedge and looking around. After a while, the man came out of his hiding place, jumped on his bike, and followed her. In that vast picturesque landscape, only these two figures are active. The demure girl rode straight A on the car, but the man behind her was lying low on the handlebar, with inexplicable sneaky signs in every move. She looked back at him and slowed down. He also slowed down. The girl got out of the car, and he got out of the car at once, two hundred yards behind her. The girl's next move was surprisingly rapid, and she suddenly twisted the front of the car and slammed into him. However, he also escaped as quickly as the girl, desperately trying to escape. She immediately returned to the main road, proudly holding her head high, disdainful to ignore the silent follower. He also turned around, still keeping that distance until I couldn't see them as I turned the main road.

　　I remained in my hiding place, and it was fitting that I did so, for the man soon reappeared, and he rode back unhurriedly. He turned into the manor gate and got out of the car. I watched him stand in the bushes for a few minutes, hands up, as if to sort out his tie. Then he got into the car and passed by me and rode toward the driveway towards the manor. I ran out of the heather bush and looked through the cracks in the woods to faintly see the old ash building and its towering Tudor chimneys in the distance, but unfortunately the lane passed through a thick bush, and I could no longer see the man.

　　However, I saw that I had done a beautiful thing, and I walked back to Farnham on foot with great interest. The local real estate agent couldn't say anything about Charrington Manor and had to introduce me to a well-known company in Parmale. I stopped there for a while on my way home and was warmly received by my agent. No, I couldn't rent the Charrington Manor for the summer, I came too late, and the manor had been rented out a month earlier and rented to a man named Mr. Williamson. He was a decent old gentleman. The polite agent politely said that he could not tell me anything more, because he could not talk about his patronage.

　　That evening, Mr. Sherlock Holmes listened attentively to the lengthy report I had given him. I had expected to be praised, and I valued his praise, but I didn't hear a word of approval. On the contrary, his grim countenance was even more serious than usual as he commented on what I had done and what I hadn't done.

　　"My dear Watson, your hiding place is very miscalculated. You should have hidden behind a hedge and taken a closer look at the interesting man. The fact that you were hiding a few hundred yards from there told me even less than Miss Smith. She thought she didn't know the man, and I'm sure she did. Otherwise, why was he so desperately worried, afraid that the girl would approach him and see his face clearly? You say he's lying on the handlebar of the bike, you see, isn't that again to hide his face? You're doing a terrible job. He went back to the house, and you wanted to find out who he was, but he ran to a London real estate agent! ”

　　"So what should I do?" I shouted a little hot-headed.

　　"Go to the nearest hotel, which is the center of Murakami's gossip. People will tell you everyone's name, from the master to the maid who helps the cook. As for Williamson, I wasn't impressed at all. If he were an old man, he would not have been the sensitive cyclist, not the one who had escaped under the girl's swift and swift pursuit. What was the takeaway from your trip? Knowing that what the girl was telling was the real thing, I never doubted it. Knowing that cyclists and manors are related, I also did not doubt it. Knowing that the estate was rented by Williamson. Who can vouch for that? Well, well, my dear sir, don't look so discouraged. We can do more before Saturday, and I can do one or two surveys myself during this time. ”

　　The next morning we received a text message from Miss Smith that briefly and accurately restated what I had seen with my own eyes, but the gist of the letter remained in the appendix.

　　When I tell you that my situation here has become difficult, I am sure you will consider the secret I have revealed, due to the fact that my employer has proposed to me. I believe that his feelings are very deep and noble. At this point, of course, I told him that I was engaged. He took my rejection very seriously, but he was very kind. However, you can understand that my situation is somewhat awkward.

　　"Our young friend seems to be in trouble," said Holmes thoughtfully after reading the letter, "and this case must be much more interesting and far more likely to develop than I had originally thought." I should still go to the countryside for a quiet and peaceful day, and I intend to go this afternoon and test the little ideas I have formed. ”

　　Holmes's quiet days in the countryside ended strangely, for he returned to Baker Street very late in the evening, his lips torn, his forehead bruised, and the look of embarrassment, as if he were the subject of a Scotland Yard investigation. He was very happy with his adventure, and laughed from the bottom of his heart as he told it.

　　"Active exercise is always useful, but unfortunately I don't exercise much." Holmes said, "You know, I'm proficient in some of the fine old English boxing, and I can use it occasionally, for example, today, if I don't have this hand, I'm going to suffer a very shameful fiasco." ”

　　I asked him to tell me what had happened.

　　"I arrived at the country hotel where you had been brought to your attention, where the investigation was carried out with care and caution. In the bar room, the rapper told me everything I needed to know. Williamson was an old white-bearded man who lived on the estate with a handful of servants. Legend has it that he was or had been a pastor now, but in the short time at the manor there were one or two small things that made me feel very different from a pastor. I inquired about a pastor's institution, and they told me that there was once a pastor named this, but his past behavior was extremely disgraceful. The shopkeeper went on to tell me that there were always some visitors to the manor on weekends—'it was a bunch of lewd billets, sir'—especially a man with a red beard, named Woodley, who was always indispensable. We were talking about this when the Mr. Woodley came over, and he had been drinking beer in the bar and listening to all of us. He asked me who I was? What am I going to do? What do I mean by asking these questions? His mouth was hanging, and his modifiers were all over his mouth. He finally cursed and struck a vicious backhand blow, which I did not have time to dodge. The next few minutes were fun. I gave the vicious thug a series of blows. I became what you see. Mr Woodley drove back. That's how my country trip ended. Admittedly, no matter how much fun, my trip to the Surrey Border this day was no bigger than what you gained. ”

　　On Thursday we received another letter from the client. She writes:

　　Mr. Holmes, you will not be surprised to hear that I am about to resign from Mr. Carrassus. Even if I am well paid, I am not willing to endure this embarrassing situation. I'm back in town on Saturday and don't plan to come back. Mr. Carassas had prepared a carriage, so that if there had been any danger on the road in the past, the danger on the remote road was now non-existent.

　　As for the specific reason for my resignation, it was not only the embarrassing situation between me and Mr. Carrassus, but also the resentful man, Mr. Woodley. He was terrible, and now his face is even more terrible. Because he seemed to have something wrong, he was even less decent. I saw him through the window, and I was glad to say that I hadn't run into him. He had a long conversation with Mr. Carrassas, and mr. Carrassas was very excited ever since. Woodley must have lived nearby, as he did not live in the Carathers house. This morning I saw him sneaking around in the bushes again. I will soon encounter this ferocious man-eating beast in this place, and I can hardly say how hateful and frightened it is. How could Mr. Carassas tolerate such a guy? I can't tolerate it for a moment! However, all my troubles will be over by Saturday.

　　"I believe so, Watson, I believe so," said Holmes gravely, "that there is a very secret conspiracy going on around this little girl, and it is our duty to go and not to let anyone harass her on her last trip." Watson, I suppose we must have taken time to go together on Saturday morning in order to ensure that our strange and extensive investigation does not suffer an unfortunate outcome. ”

　　I confess that until now I have not taken this case very seriously, and in my opinion there is no danger in it, just some absurdity and eccentricity. It is not unheard of for a man to wait for a beautiful woman and follow her, and if he is only a little arrogant, not only does he not dare to court her, but when she approaches him, he runs away, then he is not a very terrible thug. The villain Woodley was another matter. But he had not harassed our clients except once, and he had recently been to Carassas' house, but he had not broken into her. The cyclist was undoubtedly a member of what the hotel owner called a weekend party. But who is he, and what is he going to do? But it's still vague. Holmes's serious expression, before he left our room, slipped a pistol into his pocket, all these made me feel that there might be tragedy hidden behind this series of strange things.

　　After the night rain, the morning sun is shining brightly, and the countryside is covered with heather bushes, dotted with clusters of blooming plantagenets, glittering with golden light, which is even more beautiful and refreshing to those who are tired of the gloomy gray tones of London. Holmes and I strolled along the wide, sandy roads, breathing in the fresh morning air, admiring the birds and flowers, and everywhere there was a thriving spring spirit. From the high road at the top of Crooksbury Hill, we could see the ominous manor towering over the old oak bushes. Oak trees are old enough, but they still look young compared to the buildings surrounded by oak trees. Holmes pointed to a long stretch of road, like a red-yellow ribbon between the tan heather bush and a tender green wood. In the distance, a small black dot appeared, and it could be seen that it was a single horse-drawn carriage moving in our direction. Holmes exclaimed anxiously.

　　"I'm half an hour away," said Holmes, "and if it were her carriage, she must have been on an earlier train." Watson, I'm afraid we won't be able to meet her, she's already passing by Charrington. ”

　　At this time, we had crossed the high part of the road and could no longer see the carriage, but we accelerated forward, so fast that I began to show the disadvantages of sitting in peace for a living, so that we had to fall behind. However, Holmes has always been well-trained, because he has inexhaustible exuberant energy. His brisk pace had not slowed down, and suddenly he stopped a hundred yards in front of me. I saw him raise a hand and make a failed and desperate gesture. At the same time, an empty carriage turned around the bend in the main road, and the horse's reins mopped the floor, trotting slowly, and the carriage creaked towards us.

　　"It's too late, Watson, it's too late!" As I ran breathlessly to Holmes, he shouted, "I was so stupid as not to think she was going to catch that earlier train!" It must be hijacking, Watson, it's hijacking! It's murder! God knows what it is! Get in the way! Stop the horse! That's right. Hey, hop on the bus and see if we can remedy the consequences of our big mistake. ”

　　We jumped into the carriage, and Holmes turned the horse's head, gave the horse a whip, and we galloped back down the road. As we turned the corner, the entire main road between the estate and the heather lot was unfolding in front of us. I grabbed Holmes's arm.

　　"That's the guy!" I said breathlessly.

　　An unaccompanied cyclist rushed towards us. He lowered his head, rolled his shoulders round, and used all his strength on the pedals, pedaling as fast as a racer. Suddenly he lifted his bearded face, saw us close at hand, stopped the car, and jumped off the bike, his dark beard and pale face in stark contrast. His eyes lit up, as if he were in the midst of extreme excitement. He stared at us and the carriage, and then a look of amazement appeared on his face.

　　"Hey! Stop it! He shouted, blocking our way with his bicycle, "Where did you get this carriage?" Hi, stop! He took his pistol from his side pocket and growled, "Tell you, stop, or I'll really reward you with a bullet on horseback." ”

　　Holmes threw the reins into my lap and jumped out of the carriage.

　　"You are the person we are going to meet, where is Miss Violet Smith?" Holmes asked hastily and clearly.

　　"I'm about to ask you. You are in her carriage, and you should know where she is. ”

　　"We ran into this carriage on the road, and there was no one on it, so we drove it back to save the girl."

　　"Oh my God! Oh, my God! What can I do? The stranger shouted in despair, "They took her away, that damn Woodley and that villainous priest!" Come, sir, if you are really her friends, come quickly. Help me rescue her, I'll kill Charington Woods! ”

　　He ran frantically with his pistol toward an opening in the hedge, followed by Holmes, and I put my horse to graze by the side of the road, and ran after Holmes.

　　"They went through here," said the stranger, pointing to the footprints on the dirt path. Stop! Who are the people in the bush? ”

　　It was a seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy dressed like a groom, wearing leather pants and leggings. He was lying on his back, his knees curled up, a terrible wound on his head, unconscious, but still breathing. I glanced at his wound and knew it wasn't hurting the bone.

　　"This is Marv Peter," cried the stranger, "and he is the one who drove the girl." The beasts pulled him out of the car and injured him with sticks. Let him lie here first, we can't save him anyway, but we can rescue her from the worst misfortune that could fall on a woman. ”

　　We frantically ran toward the winding paths of the forest, and as soon as we reached the bushes that surrounded the house, Holmes stopped.

　　"They didn't go into the house. On the left are their footprints, here, next to the laurel bushes. yes! I'm right. ”

　　As he was speaking, there was a scream of a woman, a trembling cry of utter horror coming from a thick green bush in front of us. Suddenly the screams stopped, followed by a suffocating crunch.

　　"This side! This way! They're on the rolling field," said the stranger, breaking through the bushes, "Ah, these cowards! Come with me, gentlemen! ah! Too late! Too late! ”

　　We burst into a green meadow surrounded by ancient trees. On the other side of the meadow, in the shade of a large oak tree stood three people. One was a woman, our client, with her head hanging down, half fainting, her mouth covered with a handkerchief. Opposite her stood a murderous-looking young man with a red beard, leggings tied around his legs, large forked legs, one hand crossed at the waist, the other hand swinging the horse whip, and his whole expression showed a triumphant frame. In the middle of the two men stood an old man with a white beard, dressed in light-colored tweed clothes and a short white robe, who had apparently just finished the wedding ceremony, for as soon as we arrived he put a prayer book into his pocket and patted the sinister groom on the back, wishing him with great interest.

　　"They're having a wedding!" I said breathlessly.

　　"Come!" Our guide shouted, "Come! He rushed through the clearing in the woods, and Holmes and I followed closely. As we rushed to the girl, she leaned precariously against the trunk of the tree to avoid falling. Former Pastor Williamson bowed mockingly to us, while woodley, the mob, savagely roared and laughed triumphantly, and rushed toward us.

　　"You can take off your beard, Bob," he said, "and I know you, without any ambiguity. Hey, you and your accomplices have come at the right time, and I'm just in time to introduce you to Mrs. Woodley. ”

　　Our answer from the passerby was special. He pulled off the black beard he had used in disguise and threw it to the ground, revealing a long, light yellow face that had been shaved bare. Then he raised his pistol and aimed it at the young thug, who was rushing towards him with a deadly horse whip.

　　"Yes," said our partner, "I am Bob Carathers, and I want to see this girl safe and sound, or I will hang herself." I told you what I was going to do if you harassed her. The Emperor is on top, and I do what I say. ”

　　"You're too late, she's already my wife."

　　"No, she's your widow."

　　The gunshots rang out, and I saw blood spurting from Woodley's front heart. He screamed and turned his body on his back, and the ugly red face suddenly became mottled and pale, very frightening. The old man was still wearing a white robe, and at this moment he was scolding, and the dirty words that kept on swearing were really unheard of. He pulled out his own pistol, but before he could raise it, he saw that Holmes's muzzle was already aimed at him.

　　"Enough," said my friend coldly, "throw the gun down!" Watson, you pick up the gun! Point the gun at his head! Thank you. And you, Karathus, give me your gun too. We don't need to use force anymore. Come, hand over the gun! ”

　　"So, who are you?"

　　"My name is Sherlock Holmes."

　　"Ahhh!"

　　"I can see that you already know my name. Before the official detectives arrived, I had to do the work. Hey, you! Holmes shouted to a frightened groom on the other side of the clearing, "Nam went." Holmes tore a page from his notebook and scribbled a few words, "Send this to the police station and give it to the sheriff." Before he came, I had to take care of you on your behalf. ”

　　Holmes's strong, all-encompassing character dominates the scene of this tragedy, and all the people obediently obey him. Williamson and Caratsus carried the injured Woodley into the house, and I helped the frightened girl. The wounded were placed on the bed, and I examined them at the request of Holmes. When I reported the results of the examination to him, he was sitting in an old dining room with tapestries in front of williamson and Caratsus, who were under his custody.

　　"He can survive," I reported.

　　"What!" Carathers shouted loudly and jumped out of his chair, "I'll go upstairs first and get him done." Didn't you say to me that the little angelic girl was going to be bound by the madman Woodley for the rest of her life? ”

　　"You don't have to ask," said Holmes, "and she doesn't make her his wife at all, for two very good reasons." First, we are perfectly sure that we doubt Williamson's right to officiate at the wedding. ”

　　"I have been ordained to the priesthood," cried the old scoundrel.

　　"I have long been removed from the priesthood."

　　"Once you become a pastor, you are a pastor for life."

　　"I don't think so. What about marriage certificates? ”

　　"We have a marriage certificate, it's in my pocket."

　　"From this point of view, you have been obtained by intrigue and trickery. Anyway, forced marriage is definitely not marriage, but a very serious crime. You will realize this before you are finished. Unless I'm mistaken, you'll have time to figure that out over the next decade or so. As for you, Carathers, you could have done a better job if you hadn't pulled your gun out of your pocket. ”

　　"I am only beginning to think of it now, Mr. Holmes, but when I think of all the precautions I have taken to protect the girl—because I love her, Mr. Holmes, and for the first time in my life I know what love is—the thought of her falling into the clutches of the most ruthless thug in South Africa, whose name is feared from Kimberley to Johannesburg, drives me mad. Ah, (1) Mr. Holmes, it is hard for you to believe this, for I know that these scoundrels lurk in this house, but not once since the girl was hired by me, when she passed through it, I have not once failed to escort her by bicycle, to see with my own eyes that she would not be harmed. I kept a distance from her, and I put on my beard so that she would not recognize me, for she was a kind and noble girl, if she thought that I was in the village (1) Kimberley and Johannesburg were South African place names. The translator noted that if she followed her on the road, she would not be employed by me for a long time. ”

　　"Why don't you tell her about the danger?"

　　"Because then she's going to leave me, but I don't want to do that." Even if she doesn't love me, as long as I can see her beautiful face at home and hear her voice, then I will be satisfied. ”

　　"Hey," I said, "you call this love, Mr. Carathers. But I call it egoism. ”

　　"Probably both. Anyway, I couldn't let her go. Besides, there are people around her, and it is better to have someone around to take care of her. Later, when I received the telegram, I knew they must act. ”

　　"What telegram?"

　　Carassas took a telegram from his pocket.

　　"That's it," he said.

　　The message is very simple and straightforward:

　　The old man is dead.

　　"Ahem!" Holmes said, "I think I know what is going on, and I understand that, as you say, this telegram will lead them to extremes." You can wait and tell me as much as you know. ”

　　The old villain in the white robe broke out a series of dirty words.

　　"The Emperor is on top!" He said, "If you reveal our secrets, Bob, I'm going to use your methods against Jack Woodley." You can tell the girl as much as you want, that's your own business, but if you're going to betray your friend to this plainclothes cop, you're going to be out of luck. ”

　　"Your Excellency, The Honourable Pastor, need not be agitated," said Holmes, lighting a cigarette, "it is quite clear that this case is not in your favour. I'm just asking a few details out of personal curiosity. But if it's not convenient for you to tell me, then I'll talk about it, and then you'll understand what secrets you can hide. First, the three of you from South Africa came to play the trick — you Williamson, you Carathusus, and Woodley. ”

　　"The number one lie," said the old fellow, "I have not even seen them two months ago, and I have never been to Africa in my birth, so you can put this lie in a pipe and burn it together, Mr. Nosy Holmes." ”

　　"He's telling the truth," Carassas said.

　　"Well, well, you two are from afar. This honorable pastor is our own national product. You met Ralph Smith in South Africa. You have reason to believe that he will not live long, and you have found out that his niece is going to inherit his inheritance. What do I mean by that? Well? ”

　　Carathers nodded, and Williamson cursed.

　　"There is no doubt that she is the closest relative, and you know that the old man will not leave a will."

　　"He couldn't read or write," Karassese said.

　　"So the two of you have come thousands of miles away to look for this girl everywhere." The idea is that one person will marry her and the other will share in the stolen money. For some reason, Woodley was chosen as her husband. So why? ”

　　"We played cards on the way, bet on that girl, and Woodley won."

　　"I see. You tricked the girl into coming to your house so that Woodley could come to your house and court her. But she could see that Woodley was an alcoholic villain who didn't want to associate with him. At the same time, you yourself are in love with this girl, which completely disrupts your arrangement. The thought of the villain wanting to possess the girl, you can no longer tolerate it. ”

　　"Yes, indeed, I can't tolerate it anymore."

　　"So you quarreled. He left in a fit of rage, lifted you aside, and made up his own mind. ”

　　"Williamson, I see, the gentleman we are going to say has said all that is left, and there is very little left," Crissus cried out with a wry smile, "yes, we quarreled, and he knocked me down." Anyway, he and I are on par when it comes to fighting. I didn't see him later. It turned out that he had met the dismissed pastor here. I found out that the two of them had rented a house here, which was exactly the way she had to go to the station. After that, I took care of her, because I knew that the wind was evil. I went to see them again and again because I wanted to know what they were after. Woodley came to my house two days ago with this telegram, which said Ralph Smith had died. Woodley asked me if I was complying with the agreed trading conditions. I said I didn't want to. He asked me if I wanted to marry the girl and give him some of the property. I said I was willing to do so, but the girl wouldn't agree. Woodley said, 'Let's marry her first, and in a week or two she'll see things differently.' I said I didn't want to use force. So he showed his vulgar rogue nature, scolded and grinned, and swore that he would get her. She was planning to leave me this weekend, and I got a light carriage to take her to the station, but she was always relieved, so I came by bicycle. However, she had already left, and before I could catch up with her, something bad happened. As soon as I saw you two gentlemen driving her carriage back, I knew immediately that something was wrong. ”

　　Holmes stood up and threw the cigarette butt into the fireplace. "My senses have always been dull, Watson," he said, "when you report that you see cyclists who seem to be ties in the bushes, this alone has already explained to me everything. However, we can also be thankful that we have access to such a bizarre and, in some respects, unique case. I saw three district policemen coming up in the driveway, and I was glad to see that the little groom could go as fast as they could, so it seemed that neither the priest nor the funny groom would ever emerge because of their illegal actions this morning. Watson, I suppose, with your medical ability, you can visit Miss Smith and tell her that if she is healthy, we will send her back to her mother's house. If she hasn't fully recovered, you can hint that we're going to telegraph a young electrician from Midland, which could probably cure her. As for you, Mr. Kalases, I think you have done everything in your power to remedy the criminal conspiracy in which you have participated. This is my business card, sir, and if my testimony is useful to you at the time of your trial, please feel free to use it. ”

　　In our endless activities, the reader may have noticed that I often have a hard time polishing my narrative and writing the final details of the strange and eccentric details that the reader might expect. Each case is a prelude to another, and as soon as the decisive moment is over, those who come on stage retire forever from our hectic lives. However, I found my manuscript recounting the case, which ended with a brief account in which I reported that Miss Violet Smith had indeed inherited a large inheritance and that she was now the wife of the famous Westminster electrotechnologist Cyril Morton, the majority shareholder of Morton and the Kennedy Company. Both Williamson and Woodley were tried for abduction and injury, with Williamson sentenced to seven years in prison and Woodley sentenced to ten years in prison. I have not received a report on the outcome of Carassas, but I believe that since Woodley is a very dangerous villain with a bad reputation, the court will not take Carethus' crime of injury very seriously, and I think it is enough for the judge to sentence him to a few months in prison.

　　Black Peter

　　I have never seen my friend Holmes as uplifted and physically strong as he was in 1895. His growing popularity has led him to countless cases to be handled, and there are many famous people who have come to our humble houses on Baker Street. Even if I only hinted at who one or two of them were, I would be blamed for not being careful enough. Just as all great artists lived for art, Holmes never demanded a good reward for his immeasurable deeds, with the exception of the Case of the Duke of Haldrius. He was so high-minded, so willful, that if the person concerned did not receive his sympathy, then, even if he was rich and powerful, Holmes would reject him. But sometimes for the sake of an ordinary party, he can spend several weeks in a row, concentrating on the case, as long as the case is bizarre and moving, he can use his imagination and wisdom.

　　In this unforgettable year of 1895, a series of strange and contradictory cases took up all his energies, including the exquisite investigation of the sudden death of Cardinal Tosca, carried out at the special instructions of the Holy Pope, and the arrest of Wilson, a canary farmer with a bad deed, which removed a bane on the East End of London. Then two of the most bizarre cases were the Tragedy of Woodman Lee Manor, a bizarre case about the death of Captain Peter Gary. If this bizarre case is not recounted, Mr. Sherlock Holmes's record of solving the case will not be perfect.

　　In the first week of July, my friend was often absent from our accommodation and went out for longer periods of time, so I knew he had a case to deal with. During this time a few vulgar people came to visit and asked Captain Basser, which made me understand that he was working somewhere under a pseudonym. He has many pseudonyms in order to conceal his fearful identity. He has at least five temporary residences throughout London, each using a different name and occupation. As for what he was investigating, he didn't tell me, and I wasn't used to asking him. However, it seems that the case he is investigating this time is very special. He had gone out before breakfast, and when I sat down to eat, he strode back into the house, wearing a hat and a short, barbed, umbrella-like spear under his armpit.

　　I shouted, "Oh my God! Holmes, you didn't take this thing with you around London, did you? ”

　　"I ran to a butcher's shop and came back."

　　"Butcher's shop?"

　　"Now I have a great appetite. Dear Watson, the significance of exercising before breakfast is indisputable. But you can't guess what sport I'm doing, and I bet you can't. ”

　　"I don't want to guess."

　　He chuckled softly as he poured coffee.

　　"If you had just gone to the back of the Alardis butcher's shop, you would have seen a dead pig hanging under the ceiling, and a gentleman in his shirt poking it hard with this weapon. This very powerful man was me, and I was glad that I didn't use much force to pierce the pig all at once. Maybe you want to try it? ”

　　"Definitely didn't want to try. Why would you want to do such a thing? ”

　　"Because it may have something to do with the mysterious case of The Manor of Yademan Lee." Ah, Hopkin, I received your telegram last night, and I have been looking forward to seeing you. Let's have breakfast together. ”

　　Our guest was a very resourceful man, about thirty years old, dressed in plain tweed clothes, but with the kind of straight demeanor that was accustomed to wearing official uniforms. I immediately recognized him as the young Sheriff Stanley Hopkin. Holmes considered him a promising young man, and this young man, because Of Holmes's scientific method of detection, had a student-like admiration and respect for the famous detective. Hopkin's brow furrowed, and he sat down with a very frustrated look.

　　"Thank you, sir. I had breakfast before I came, and I spent the night in the city. I came to report yesterday. ”

　　"What do you report?"

　　"Failure, sir, utter failure."

　　"Isn't there any progress at all?"

　　"Oh, I'm going to investigate this case."

　　"Mr. Holmes, I would rather you do this. It was the first major case I had ever encountered, but there was nothing I could do about it. Look at the face of God, please help. ”

　　"Well, well, I just happened to have carefully read all the material at the moment, including the reconnaissance report. By the way, what do you think of the tobacco bag found at the crime scene? Is there a clue on that? ”

　　Hopkin seemed taken aback.

　　"Sir, that's the man's own tobacco bag. Inside the bag was the first letter of his name. It was made with seal skin because he was a veteran seal catcher. ”

　　"But he doesn't have a pipe, right?"

　　"No, sir, we didn't find the pipe. He does smoke very little, and he might prepare a little cigarette for his friend. ”

　　"There is such a possibility. I mention the tobacco bag because if I were to deal with the case, I would tend to use the bag as the beginning of the investigation. My friend Dr. Watson knows nothing about the case, and as for me, it doesn't hurt to hear about the events again, so please give us a brief account of the main situation. ”

　　Stanley Hopkin took a note from his pocket.

　　"I have here an almanac of what Captain Peter Gary did in his lifetime. He was born in 1845 and is now fifty years old. He is good at catching seals and whales. In 1883 he became the captain of the seal ship 'Unicorn of the Sea' in Port Dandy (1). He sailed several times in a row, all with great results. In the following year, 1884, he retired. He traveled for several years, and finally he bought a small piece of land in Sussex County, near the residential area of Frist, called Houseman Lee. He lived here for six years and was killed last week.

　　-------------------------------------

　　(1) A seaport in the east of Scotland. - Translator's Note

　　"There is something very special about this person. In his daily life he lived a strictly Puritan life, and he was a silent, gloomy man. He had a wife, a daughter in her twenties, and two maids. Servants are often changed because the environment is unpleasant and sometimes intolerable. This man was often drunk, and when he got drunk, he became an authentic demon. It is known that he sometimes threw his wife and daughter out of the house in the middle of the night, causing them to run around the garden until the whole village was awakened by screams.

　　"Once the parish priest came to his house and accused him of bad behavior, he scolded the old priest and was summoned. In short, Mr. Holmes, it is not easy to find someone more outrageous than Peter Gary, and I have heard that his character was the same when he was captain. The seafarers called him Black Peter. He was given this name, not only because his face and beard were black, but also because the people around him were afraid of his bad temper. Needless to say, every neighbor hated him and avoided him, and after his tragic death, I did not hear a single word of regret from anyone.

　　"Mr. Holmes, you must have read in that investigative report that this man had a cabin; perhaps this friend of yours had not heard of it. He built a wooden hut outside his house, which he always called a 'little cabin,' a few hundred yards away from his house, where he slept every night. It was a small single room, sixteen feet long and ten feet wide. The key was in his own pocket, the futon was cleaned up by himself, and no one was allowed to step into his threshold. There were small windows on each side of the house with curtains hanging from them, and the windows were never opened. There was a window facing the main road, and whenever the light was lit in the hut at night, people used to look at the little room and guess what he was doing. Mr. Holmes, all that can be obtained from the investigation is a few things provided by the windows of this small room.

　　"You will remember that two days before the accident, at one o'clock in the morning, a stonemason named Slater, coming from the residential area of Freest, passed by this small room, and he stopped to look at it, and the light in the window shone on a few trees outside. The stonemason swore:

　　It was clear from the curtain that there was a man's head swinging from side to side, and that this shadow must not be Peter Gary, for he was very familiar with Peter. It was a long bearded human head, but very different from the captain's beard, which was short and tilted forward. The stonemason said so, and he spent two hours in a small hotel, located on the main road, some distance from the windows of the wooden house. It was Monday, and the murder took place on Wednesday.

　　"On Tuesday Peter Gary was making a fuss again, drunk, as ferocious as a man-eating beast, and he wandered around his house, and his wife and daughter hurried away when they heard him coming. Late in the evening, he returned to his cabin. The next morning at about two o'clock, his daughter heard a frightening scream coming from the direction of the hut, because his daughter always slept with the window open. He used to yell when he was drunk, so no one noticed. A maid, when she got up at seven o'clock, saw the door of the hut open, but Black Peter was so frightened that no one dared to see what was going on with him until noon. The sight of the people standing at the open door looking inwards made them pale and hurried back to the village. In less than an hour I arrived at the scene to take over the case.

　　"Mr. Holmes, you know that my nerves are quite strong, but I tell you that when I poked my head into this hut, I was also startled. Swarms of flies and mung bean flies buzzed incessantly, and the ground and walls looked like a slaughterhouse. He called it a small cabin of the house, and it was indeed like a small cabin, because here you would feel as if you were on a ship. At one end of the room there was a bed, a storage box, maps and charts, an oil painting of the Unicorn of the Sea, and a row of logbooks on one shelf, exactly as we had seen in the captain's cabin. He himself was right in the middle of the wall of the room, his face with the twisted look of a man dying in pain, his pale beard tilted upwards in pain. A fishing steel fork ran all the way through his broad chest, deep into the wooden wall behind him. He was like a beetle nailed to a cardboard. Apparently he let out that roar of pain and died.

　　"Sir, I know your methods and use them. I carefully inspected the floor outside the house and the floor inside the house before I was allowed to move things. No footprints. ”

　　"You mean you didn't see the footprints?"

　　"Sir, there must be no footprint at all."

　　"My good Hopkin, I've solved many cases, but I've never seen flying animals commit crimes. As long as the criminal has two legs, there must be traces of stepping, rubbing, and inconspicuous movement marks, which can be seen by a detective using the scientific method. It is hard to believe that a room spattered with blood can find no trace of helping us solve the case. From your investigation I can see that there are some things that you haven't scrutinized. ”

　　The young sheriff was embarrassed to hear this sarcastic remark from my friend.

　　"Mr. Holmes, it would have been foolish for me not to have asked you to go, but it was irreparable. There are also some items in the house that deserve special attention. One was the harpoon for murder. The killer was caught from a tool rack on the wall. Two more were still there, and one of the seats was empty. The wooden handle of this harpoon is inscribed with 'SS, Unicorn of the Sea, Dandy. It can be concluded that the murder took place in anger, and that the murderer had caught the weapon by hand. The murder took place at two o'clock in the morning, and Peter Gary was dressed, suggesting that he had a date with the murderer, as evidenced by the fact that there was a bottle of Roma and two used glasses on the table. ”

　　Holmes said: "I think both of these inferences make sense. Is there any other wine in the house besides roma? ”

　　"Yes, there was a small wine cabinet in the storage case with brandy and whiskey. But this is not important to us, because the neck is full of wine, and the wine in the cabinet has not moved. ”

　　Holmes said: "Nevertheless, the wine in the cupboard makes sense. But first, please tell us about other items that you believe are relevant to the case. ”

　　"There's that tobacco bag on the table."

　　"Which part of the table?"

　　"In the middle of the table. The tobacco bag is made of seal skin, unprocessed fur coated seal skin, and there is a leather rope to tie. The inside of the cigarette bag lid has 'P. Ｃ． ' words. The bag contained half-angs strong seafarer's tobacco. ”

　　"Nice! What else? ”

　　Stanley Hopkin took out of his pocket a notebook with a khaki skin, which was very thick and old, with a slightly dirty edge. The first page reads the inscription "J. Ｈ． Ｎ． and the date "1883". Holmes put the notebook on the table and examined it carefully, and Hopkin and I stood behind him and watched from both sides. On the second page there is the printed letter "C. Ｐ． Ｒ． The next few pages are all numbers. And then there was

　　Headings such as "Argentina", "Costa Rica", "São Paulo", etc., each followed by several pages of symbols and numbers.

　　Holmes asked, "Does this mean anything?" ”

　　"These are like statements of exchange securities. I thought 'J. Ｈ． Ｎ． 'is the first word in the broker's name,' C. Ｐ． Ｒ． It could be his customer. ”

　　Holmes said, "Look at 'C. Ｐ． Ｒ． 'Is it the Canadian Pacific Railroad?' ”

　　Stanley Hopkin tapped his fist on his thigh while scolding himself in a low voice.

　　Hopkin then shouted, "I'm so stupid! You're certainly right. Then only 'J. Ｈ． Ｎ． These words are what we have to solve. I have checked the old statements of these stock exchanges, and in 1883 I could not find the same as the prefix of any broker's name inside or outside the firm. But I think that's the most important of all my leads. You may admit, Mr. Holmes, that these words are the abbreviations of the names of the second man at the scene, in other words, the murderers. I also think that the discovery of a notebook containing a large amount of valuable securities points us to the motive for the murder. ”

　　Sherlock Holmes's facial expression shows that this new development in the case was completely unexpected by him.

　　He said: "I completely agree with both of your arguments. I admit that this note, which was not mentioned in the initial survey, changed my original view. My inferences about this case do not take into account the contents of this note. Have you managed to investigate the securities mentioned in your notebook? ”

　　"The exchange is investigating, but I think the full list of these South American Shares holders of Conzyne is mostly in South America." It will be a few weeks before we can find out the shares. ”

　　Holmes examined the outer skin of the notebook with a magnifying glass.

　　He said, "It's a little dirty here. ”

　　"Yes, sir, that's blood. I told you I picked it up from the ground. ”

　　"Is the blood spot on top of the book?" Or below? ”

　　"It's on the side next to the floor."

　　"This, of course, proves that the notebook was dropped after the murder."

　　"Mr. Holmes, that is exactly what it is, and I understand it. I suppose the murderer had fallen off in a hurry to escape and had fallen next to the door. ”

　　"I don't think any of these securities are the property of the deceased, right?"

　　"Do you have any basis for thinking that this was a robbery and murder?"

　　"No, sir. It was as if nothing had been moved. ”

　　"Ah, it's an interesting case, there's a knife there, isn't it?"

　　"There was a sheathed knife, which was still in its sheath and placed at the feet of the deceased. Mrs. Gary proved that it was her husband's stuff. ”

　　Holmes pondered for a moment.

　　He finally said, "I think I'll have to check it out myself." ”

　　Stanley Hopkin shouted happily.

　　"Thank you, sir. It will really lighten the burden on my heart. ”

　　Holmes waved his hand at the sheriff.

　　"A week ago it would have been an easy job," he said. Going now may not be completely useless. Watson, if you can make time, I'm glad you're going with me. Hopkin, please call a four-wheeled carriage, and we will set off in a quarter of an hour into the residential area of Freest. ”

　　At a small coach station on the side of the road we got out of the carriage and hurried through the ruins of a vast forest. The forest, several miles long, was part of the great forest that had held back the Saxon invaders for sixty years— the intrusive "forest strip," the british bastion. Much of the forest has been cut down because it was the site of Britain's first steel mill, cut down trees to make iron. Now that the steel mills have moved to the mineral-rich areas of the north, only these desolate groves and uneven ground can indicate that there were steel mills here. In the open space on the green slope of a hill, there is a long, low stone house, from which a path curves through the field. Near the main road there was a cottage surrounded on three sides by low bushes, with a door and a window facing us. This is the scene of the murder.

　　Stanley Hopkin led us into the house and introduced us to a haggard-faced, gray-haired woman—the victim's widow. Her face was thin, wrinkled, her eye circles were red, and there was still a look of fear lurking in the depths of her eyes, which showed that she had endured many years of suffering and abuse. She was accompanied by her daughter, a pale girl with blond hair. She was happy to talk about her father's death, and when she said she wanted to bless the man who had stabbed her father to death, her eyes shone with defiance. Black Peter made his home very unsightly, and when we came out of his house into the daylight, we felt like we were released again. Then we walked forward along a path through the fields, which the deceased had stepped on with their feet.

　　This small room is the simplest house, surrounded by wood-paneled walls, the roof is also wooden, there is a window by the door, and the other window is at the end. Stanley Hopkin took the key from his pocket and bent over the keyhole, when suddenly he paused, his face showing surprise and concentration.

　　He said: "Someone pried the lock. ”

　　This fact cannot be doubted. There were knife marks on the wooden part, and the paint on it had been shaved white, as if it had just been pried through the door. Holmes had been checking the windows.

　　"Someone still wants to go in through the window. Whoever he was, he failed anyway and didn't get inside. This man must be a very stupid robber. ”

　　The sheriff said: "This is a very unusual thing. I can swear that there were no traces of these here last night. ”

　　I reminded, "Maybe some curious people from the village have been here." ”

　　"Probably not, none of them dared to come here, let alone break into the hut." What do you think of this, Mr. Holmes? ”

　　"I think we're lucky."

　　"You mean this man will come again?"

　　"Quite possibly. He didn't expect the door to be closed when he came that time. So, he was going to open the door with a small folding knife and come in. He did not enter the house. What would he do? ”

　　"Come back the next night with more applicable tools."

　　"I say the same thing. If we don't wait for him here, that's our fault. Let me see what's going on inside the cabin. ”

　　The traces of murder had been cleared, but the furniture in the house was still laid out as it had been that night. Holmes examined them one by one with great concentration for two hours, but his countenance showed no results. While he was patiently checking, at one point he paused for a moment.

　　"Hopkin, did you take anything from this shelf?"

　　"I didn't move anything."

　　"Something must have been taken away. There was less dust in this corner of the shelf than elsewhere. It could be a book lying flat, or it could be a small box. Well, there's nothing to do. Watson, let's walk through the beautiful grove and enjoy hours of birdsong. Hopkin, we're here tonight to see if we can meet this gentleman who came last night. ”

　　By the time we set up the little ambush, it was past eleven o'clock. Hopkin advocated opening the door of the hut, which Holmes thought would arouse the stranger's suspicions. A lock is a very simple lock that can be opened with just a sturdy little tin. Holmes also suggested that we wait not inside the house but outside, in the bushes near the corner of the house. If this man lights the lamp, we can see him and see what his purpose is in sneaking in at night.

　　The waiting time was long and tedious, but there was a sense of adventure, like a hunter waiting by the pool to catch the animals that came to drink. What kind of beast sneaks up on us in the dark? Is it a wounded tiger that can only be caught after a hard fight with its sharp teeth and sharp claws, or is it a dodging jackal that is terrible only for the cowardly and the defenseless?

　　We crouched in the low bushes, silently waiting for everything that could happen. At first there were the footsteps of those who returned to the village very late and the sounds of speeches coming from the village, which aroused our vigilance, but these irrelevant sounds disappeared,—— one after another, and there was silence all around us, only occasionally the bells of the distant churches reported the progress of our night, and the drizzle fell on the leaves above our heads.

　　The bell had already struck past half past two, the darkest hour before dawn, when suddenly there came a low, sharp ticking sound from the gate, and we were all taken aback. Someone came in and walked down the trail. Then there was a long silence, and I was guessing that the sound was a false alarm, when from the other side of the hut came the sound of quiet footsteps, and after a while there was the friction and collision of metal objects. The man was pulling the lock hard. This time his technique or tools were better, because suddenly he heard a click and the crunch of the door pivot. Then a match was drawn, followed by a steady light of candles illuminating the interior of the hut. Through the tulle curtains, our eyes are fixed on the scene inside the house.

　　The night visitor was a thin young man with a black beard on his chin that made his pale face as pale as a dead man's. He looked like a man who had just turned twenty. I had never seen anyone as frightened and frightened as he was, his teeth clearly fighting the Cold War, his limbs trembling. He dressed like a gentleman, wearing a Norfolk-style blouse and lantern pants, and a beanie. We watched him stare around in horror, and then he put the candle head on the table and walked into a corner where we couldn't see him. He walked back with a large notebook, one of the logbooks lined up on the shelves. He leaned against the table and flipped through page after page until he had turned out the item he was looking for. He clenched his fists and made an angry gesture, then closed the book, put it back in place, and blew out the candle. Before he could turn around and walk out of the hut, Hopkin's hand had already grabbed the man's collar. When he understood he was under arrest, I heard him sigh loudly. The candles are lit again. Under the watchful eye of the detective, he trembled and curled up. He sat on the storage case, looking at the man at a loss and looking at the man again.

　　Stanley Hopkin said, "My good man, who are you?" What are you doing here? ”

　　The man picked himself up, tried his best to stay calm, and then looked at us.

　　He said, "I guess you're detectives, right?" You think I have something to do with Captain Gary's death. I assure you that I am innocent. ”

　　Hopkin said, "We'll figure it out." What's your name first? ”

　　"John Hopley Nelgen."

　　I saw Holmes and Hopkin exchange glances quickly.

　　"What are you doing here?"

　　"I have confidential matters, can I trust you?"

　　"No, you don't have to."

　　"Then why should I tell you?"

　　"If you don't answer, it may be bad for you when you are interrogated."

　　The young man was a little embarrassed.

　　He said, "Okay! I'll tell you. There is no need to hide. But I'm reluctant to let the old gossip spread again. Have you heard of dowson and the Nelgen company? ”

　　I could tell from Hopkin's face that he had never heard of it, but Holmes seemed interested.

　　He said, "You mean the Western bankers?" They lost a million pounds, half of cornwall's families were bankrupt, and Nergon was lost. ”

　　"Yes, Nergon is my father."

　　We finally got a little certainty, but there was a great distance between a banker who had absconded from debt and Captain Peter Gary, who had been nailed to the wall by his own harpoon. We all listened intently to the young man.

　　"It mostly involved my father. Daosheng has retired. I was just ten years old, but I could already feel the shame and fear of it. People keep saying that my father stole all the securities and escaped. This does not correspond to the facts. My father was convinced that if he were given some time to turn securities into cash, everything would be fine and all debts would be paid off. Just before the summons was issued to arrest my father, he set off for Norway on his small yacht. I remember the night before he left, saying goodbye to my mother. He left us a list of the securities he had taken with him and vowed that he would come back to clarify his reputation and that those who trusted him would not be affected. But he was never heard from again. He himself or the yacht was not heard from at all. My mother and I think he and the yacht and all the securities he had brought with him had sunk to the bottom of the sea. We have a reliable friend who is also a businessman. It was he who had recently discovered that there were securities on the London market that my father had taken with him. How surprised we are, it is not difficult for you to imagine. I spent several months tracking down the origin of these securities, and after many twists and turns and difficulties, I found that the first person to sell the securities was Captain Peter Gary, the owner of the cottage.

　　"Of course, I did some research into this man. I found out that he had been in charge of a whaling ship that was returning from the Arctic Ocean just as my father was crossing the sea to Norway. There were many storms that year, and the winds from the south were constantly blowing. My father's yacht was probably blown north and met Captain Gary's boat. If that were the case, what would happen to my father? In any case, if I could figure out how securities appeared in the market from Peter Gary's conversation, it would prove that my father did not sell them and that he did not want to make his own fortune when he took them.

　　"I came to Sussex to see the captain, and it was at this very time that this murder took place. I learned about the condition of the cabin from the autopsy report. The report said the ship's logbook was still kept in the cabin. It occurred to me that if I could see what had happened aboard the Unicorn of the Sea in August 1883, I might be able to solve the mystery of my father's disappearance. I tried to get these logbooks last night, but I couldn't open the door. This evening I opened the door again and found the logbook, but found that all the pages of August had been torn off. That's when I was caught by you. ”

　　Hopkin asked, "Is that the whole truth?" ”

　　"Yes, that's the whole truth." As he spoke, his eyes flickered.

　　"Don't you have anything else to say?"

　　He hesitated.

　　"Haven't you been here before last night?"

　　Hopkin held up the notebook that served as evidence, the skin of the book was bloodstained, and the first page had the beginning of the man's name, and shouted: "Then how do you explain this?" ”

　　The poor man was very depressed. He covered his face with his hands and his whole body trembled.

　　He said bitterly, "Where did you get this book?" I do not know. I think I lost it in the hostel. ”

　　Hopkin said sternly, "Enough. If you have anything else to say, go to court and say it. You go with me to the police station now. Mr. Holmes, I thank you very much and your friends for coming here to help me. The facts show that you did not come unnecessarily, and without you I would have made the case a satisfactory result, but I thank you for this. The room was reserved for you at the Brownblatt Inn, and now we can go to the village together. ”

　　When we rode back to London the next morning, Holmes asked, "Watson, what do you think of this?" ”

　　"I don't think you're satisfied."

　　"Oh, dear Watson, I am very satisfied. But I disagree with Stanley Hopkin's approach. I'm disappointed in Hopkin. I would have hoped he would have handled it better. A detective should always explore whether there is a second possibility, and be prepared to know if it is. This is the first principle of investigating crime. ”

　　"So what is the second possibility of this case?"

　　"It's the clue I've been investigating myself. No results may be obtained. I'm hard to say. But at least I'm going to carry it through to the end. ”

　　Several letters were waiting for Holmes on Baker Street. He grabbed a letter and opened it, and immediately let out a soft triumphant laugh.

　　"Watson, great! The second possibility is evolving. Do you have a telegraph? Please write two letters for me: 'Reitcliffe Avenue, Shipping Company, Semuna.' Send three men and arrive at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. - Bassle. That's the name I use when I play the character. The other one was: 'Bruston District, 46 Lot Street, Sheriff Stanley Hopkin. Tomorrow at 9:30 for breakfast. Critical. If you can't come, call back. —Sherlock Holmes. 'Watson, this nasty case has left me unrest for ten days. From now on I will take it completely out of my heart. I am sure that tomorrow I will hear the final results. ”

　　The sheriff arrived at exactly the appointed moment, and we sat down together for a sumptuous breakfast prepared by Mrs. Hudson. The young sheriff was elated by the success of the case.

　　Holmes asked, "Do you really think your solution is right?" ”

　　"I don't think there would be a more complete solution."

　　"In my opinion, the case has not been finally resolved."

　　"Mr. Holmes, your opinion surprised me. What else can be further queried? ”

　　"Does your explanation make all the differences?"

　　"There's no doubt about it. I found out that this Nelgen had arrived at the Brownblatt Inn on the day of the accident, and he pretended to come to play golf. His room was on the first floor, so he could go out whenever he wanted. That night he went to the house to meet Man Lee and Peter Gary in the hut, and they quarreled, and he stabbed him to death with a harpoon. Horrified by his actions, he dropped his notebook as he ran outside the house, which he had brought with him to ask Peter Gary about the various securities. You may have noticed that some securities are marked with marks, while most are not marked. The marks were traced back to the London market. The rest may still be in Gary's hands. According to his own account, the young Nellgen was anxious to keep the securities in his father's possession in order to return them to the creditors. After he ran away, there was a time when he did not dare to go into the hut, but in order to get the information he needed, he finally had to go to the hut again. Isn't it obvious and clear? ”

　　Holmes smiled and shook his head.

　　"I see only one loophole, and that is that he can't kill people at all. Have you used a harpoon fork over an animal's body? No? Well, my dear sir, you have to pay close attention to these little things. My friend Watson can tell you that I spent the whole morning doing this exercise. It's not an easy task, it requires a strong arm and a very accurate throw. The steel fork poked out so hard that the steel fork head sank into the wall. Do you think this anemic young man can throw such a ferocious blow? Was it him and Peter Black drinking Roma in the middle of the night? Was it his silhouette that I saw on the curtains two days ago? No, no, Hopkin, must be a strong and powerful man, and we must look for this man. ”

　　The sheriff's face grew longer and longer as Holmes spoke. His hopes and ambitions were shattered. But he would not let go of other positions without a struggle.

　　"Mr. Holmes, you cannot deny that Nelgen was present that night. Notebooks are evidence. Even if you pick a fault, my proof will still satisfy the jury. Besides, where is your terrible criminal? ”

　　Holmes said serenely, "I think he's right on the stairs." Watson, I think you'd better put that gun where it's easy to get. He stood up and put a piece of paper with words on a table against the wall. He said: "We are ready. ”

　　As soon as she heard a rough conversation outside, Mrs. Hudson opened the door and said that there were three men who wanted to see Captain Basil.

　　Holmes said, "Let them come in one by one." ”

　　The first person to come in was a small, laughable man with red cheeks and a white, fluffy sideburns.

　　Holmes took a letter from his pocket and asked, "What is the name?" ”

　　"James Lancaster."

　　"Sorry, Lancaster, the bunks are full. Give you half a gold pound and trouble you. Go to that room and wait for a few minutes. ”

　　The second man was a slender, dry man with straight hair and sunken cheeks. His name was Hugh Pattins. He was also not hired, likewise received half a gold pound, and made him wait.

　　The appearance of the third applicant is very strange. A vicious face like a dog was set in a mess of hair and beard, and thick, clustered eyebrows hung downwards, covering the two black and brutal eyes. He saluted and stood to the side like a sailor, turning his hat with both hands.

　　Holmes said, "Your name?" ”

　　"Patrick Cainz."

　　"Fork fish hand?"

　　"Yes, sir. Twenty-six times out of the sea. ”

　　"I guess it's in Port Dandy?"

　　"Yes, sir."

　　"How much do you earn?"

　　"Eight pounds a month."

　　"Will you go to sea with the expedition right away?"

　　"As long as I have my stuff ready."

　　"Do you have proof?"

　　"Yes, sir." He took out of his pocket a roll of oil-stained lists that had been rubbed. Holmes looked at it for a moment and returned it to him.

　　He said, "You're the person I'm looking for." The contract was on a table against the wall. You sign it and it's settled. ”

　　Holmes leaned over his shoulders and put both hands around his neck.

　　He said, "That's it. ”

　　I heard the clash of metals and a roar, like the roar of an enraged bull. Then the seafarer and Holmes rolled on the ground. Although Holmes had quickly handcuffed him, his strength was great, and if Hopkin and I had not rushed to help, Holmes would have been quickly subdued by the seaman. When I pointed the merciless muzzle of my pistol at his temple, he understood that resistance was useless. We tied his ankle bone with a rope and stood up breathlessly.

　　Sherlock Holmes said, "Hopkin, I'm sorry, the scrambled eggs are already cold. But when you think that the case has ended triumphantly, you will eat more delicious breakfast if you continue to eat. ”

　　Stanley Hopkin was too surprised to speak.

　　He blushed, and before he could think about it, he said, "Mr. Holmes, I don't know what to say." It was as if I had fooled myself from the very beginning. Now I understand that I should never forget that I am a student and you are a teacher. Although I have just seen with my own eyes what you have done, I still do not understand how you handle it and its significance. ”

　　Holmes said happily, "Good. One thing is long and one is wise. Your lesson this time is that you can't stick to one way to solve a case. Your attention is all over the young Nelgen, not to Patrick Cairns, the man who really murdered Peter Gary. ”

　　The seafarer's hoarse voice interrupted our conversation.

　　He said, "Listen, sir, I don't complain about this, but I want you to be exact what you say." You say I murdered Peter Gary, you say I killed Peter Gary, and that makes a big difference. Maybe you don't believe what I'm saying. Maybe you think I'm making up stories for you. ”

　　Holmes said, "Not so. Let's hear what you have to say. ”

　　"It will be finished soon, and every sentence is entirely true, and I dare swear to God." I knew Black Peter well, and when he drew his knife, I knew either I was dead or he was dead, so I picked up a harpoon and poked it at him. That's how he died. You say murder. Anyway, Black Peter's knife was stuck in my heart, or a noose was put around my neck, and I was all going to die. ”

　　Holmes asked, "How did you get here?" ”

　　"I'll start with you. Let me sit down so that it's easier to speak. It happened in 1883 — in August of that year. Peter Gary is the captain of the Unicorn of the Seas and I am the backup forkfisher. We were leaving the arctic ocean on a large chunk of crushed ice and driving back, sailing against the wind. We rescued a small boat from the sea that had been blown north because of a fierce southerly wind that had been blowing for a week. There was only one man on board, a new sailor. The sailors on our ship thought that the big ship had sunk to the bottom of the sea, and this man took this small boat to the Norwegian coast. I guess the other seafarers on board were all dead. In a word, we rescued this man on our ship, and he and our leader talked for a long time in the cabin. With this man salvaged only one iron box of luggage. The man's name had never been mentioned, at least I didn't, and he was gone the next night, as if he had never been on the boat. Word came out that this man either jumped into the sea himself or the bad weather at that time swept him into the sea. Only one man knew what had happened to him, and that was me, for I had seen with my own eyes that on the second shift in the middle of the night, the captain had bound his two feet (1) and thrown them outside the railing of the ship. After walking for another two days we saw the Setland Lighthouse. "I didn't say anything about it to anyone, so I'll see what the result will be." By the time we got to Scotland, things were already pressed down and no one asked any more. A living person died in an accident, and no one needs to ask. After a while Gary stopped going to sea, and it was years before I knew where he was. I guessed that he had killed the man for the contents of the iron box. I think he should give me a big sum of money now to shut up.

　　------------------------------------------------

　　(1) The sailors are on duty on board and are divided into three shifts, the second from twelve o'clock to four o'clock in the morning. — Translator's Note

　　"There was a sailor who met him in London, and through this sailor I knew where he lived, and I immediately came to him for money. The first night he was very reasonable and ready to give me a sum of money so that I would never go to sea again for the rest of my life. We said okay, in two nights we'll get things done. When I went again, I saw that he was half drunk and had a bad temper. We sat down to drink and talk about the past. The more he drank, the more I felt that his face was not right. I saw a harpoon hanging on the wall, and I thought I might be able to use it before I was finished. Later, he started a fire against me, pecking and cursing, his eyes showing the fierce light of wanting to kill, and a large folding knife in his hand. Before he could pull the large folding knife out of its sheath, my harpoon had already pierced him. Oh, my God! He screamed! His face blurred before my eyes, and I stood there, covered in his blood. After waiting for a while, it was quiet all around, so I plucked up my courage again. I looked around the room and saw the iron box on the shelf. It can be said that Peter Gary and I both had the right to ask for this box, so I left the house with it. I was so stupid to forget my cigarette bag on the table.

　　"Now I'll tell you one of the weirdest things. As soon as I stepped out of the house, I heard a man coming, and I immediately hid in the bushes. A man sneaked up, walked into the house, shouted, as if he had seen a ghost, and ran away with his legs, and in a moment there was no shadow. Who he is and what he's going to do, I can't say. I, for my part, walked ten miles, got on the train at Dumboe Wielz, and got to London.

　　"When I checked the box, I found that there was no money in it, only some securities, but I did not dare to sell it. I hadn't caught Peter Black in the palm of my hand, and now I was trapped in London, with not a single shilling. All I have is my craft. I saw an advertisement for a forkfish hired and gave a lot of money, so I went to the shipping company and they sent me here. This is the whole truth, and I repeat, I killed Black Peter, and the law owes me a debt of gratitude, for I saved them money on a hemp rope. ”

　　Holmes stood up and lit his pipe and said, "Say it very clearly. Hopkin, I think you should hurry up and get this prisoner to safety. This room was not suitable for a cell, and Mr. Patrick Cairns was so large that he occupied a large area in the house. ”

　　Hopkin said, "Mr. Holmes, I don't know how to thank you. Even to this day I still don't understand how you made the prisoners throw themselves into the net. ”

　　"But because from the very beginning I was lucky enough to get the right clues." If I had known that notebook, my thoughts might have been diverted elsewhere, as you had originally thought. But all I heard was focused on one thing: the astonishing strength, the skill of using harpoons, the rum, the seal skin cigarette pockets with coarse tobacco, all of which conjured up the image of a seafarer and a whale-catcher. I'm sure the words 'P. on the tobacco bag Ｃ． It was a coincidence, not Peter Gary, because he rarely smoked and did not find a pipe in the house. You remember I asked if there was any whiskey and brandy in the house, and you said there was. How many people who don't go to sea drink Roma when they can get these wines? So I was sure the killer was a seafarer. ”

　　"How did you find him?"

　　"Dear sir, the question is simple. If it is a seafarer, it must be a seafarer on the Sea Unicorn. As far as I know, Peter Gary did not board another ship. I telegraphed Dandy, and three days later I found out the names of all the sailors on the Unicorn of the Seas in 1883. When I saw the forkfish with Patrick Cainz's name in his hand, my reconnaissance was about to be completed, and I assumed that he might be in London and wanted to leave England for a while. So I went to london's East End for a few days, set up a Arctic Ocean expedition, put forward favorable conditions to find a forked fishman, and worked under Captain Bassle – you see, there was a result! ”

　　Hopkin shouted, "Wonderful! Wonderful! ”

　　Holmes said, "You will release Nelgen as soon as possible." I'd like to say you should apologize to him. The iron box must have been returned to him, and of course peter Gary's sold securities could not be returned. Hopkin, there's a rental carriage outside, and you take this guy away. If you ask me to attend the trial, my address with Watson is somewhere in Norway —I'll write you the full address later. ”

　　Gold-rimmed nose-clipping glasses

　　There are three thick manuscripts documenting our work in 1894. It is very difficult for me to choose some of the most interesting and illustrative cases of my friend's special talents from such a rich material. I went through the manuscripts, where we could see the abominable Red Leech Incident and the tragic death of the banker Crosbet; the Adleton Massacre and the bizarre burials in the English Tombs; and the famous Smith-Mortimer Inheritance Case. During this time, Holmes received a handwritten letter of thanks from the President of France and a French medal for tracking down and arresting the murderer Herrit on Rue de Blois. While all of this can be a great story, in general, I don't think it's comparable to the events of Joxley's former home, where there are many gripping plots, not only the tragic death of the young Willoughby Smith, but also many ups and downs.

　　It was late at the end of November on a stormy night. Holmes and I sat silently together, he used a high-powered magnifying glass to discern the remaining handwriting on a piece of paper, and I was intently reading a new surgical paper. Outside, the wind howled across Baker Street, and raindrops slammed violently against the windows. It is strange to say that living in the city center, within a radius of ten miles full of man-made buildings, still feels the relentless threat of nature to human beings, and I also realize that in the face of the immense power of nature, the whole of London is no stronger than the countless small mounds in the field. I approached the window and looked out the silent and deserted street, only to see a ray of light in the distance, shining on the muddy paths and glowing roads. A one-ride rental carriage is coming from the end of Oxford Street splashing muddy water.

　　Holmes put down his magnifying glass, rolled up the piece of paper, and said, "Watson, it's good that we didn't go out tonight." I've just done quite a few things. It's all eye-hurting work. In my opinion, this is nothing more than a notebook of a monastery in the second half of the fifteenth century. feed! feed! What is this sound? ”

　　In the howling wind, there was the sound of horses' hooves clicking, and the sound of wheels hitting the stone edges of the sidewalk. I saw the taxi pull up in front of our door.

　　Seeing a man coming out of the carriage, I shouted, "What is he going to do?" ”

　　"How, he's looking for us. But we also have to prepare coats, scarves, shoes and other things for bad weather. Wait a minute! Rent a carriage and go! That's good! If he wanted to invite us out, he would have left the carriage waiting. Dear Watson, everyone else has gone to bed in the morning, and you go downstairs to open the door. ”

　　As soon as the guest came to the lamp in the foyer, I immediately recognized him—he was young Stanley Hopkin—a promising detective, and Holmes was interested in his work.

　　Holmes asked me eagerly, "Did he come in?" ”

　　"Dear friend," said Holmes, standing upstairs jokingly, "please come upstairs. I hope that on a night like this you will not have any bad intentions against us! ”

　　The detective ascended the stairs, and the light shone on his raincoat, which shone brightly. I helped him take off his raincoat, and Holmes poked the fire of the fireplace even louder.

　　Holmes said, "Dear Hopkin, keep a little closer to the fire and warm your feet." Please smoke a cigar. Our doctor will also prescribe you, such a stormy night, hot boiled water plus lemon is a dose of good medicine. You must have something important when you come at this time, right? ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, not bad at all, you know I've been very busy this afternoon, have you read the Joxley thing in the evening newspaper?"

　　"I haven't seen anything since the fifteenth century."

　　"It's only a short paragraph in the newspaper, and it doesn't all correspond to the facts, so it doesn't matter if you read it or not." I did hurry up and go to the scene. Joxley is in Kent, seven miles from Katham and three miles from the rail line. At three thirty-fifteen I received a call, and at five o'clock I arrived at the former residence of Joxley, conducted a field investigation, and then took the last train to Charring Cross Street, hired another rental carriage and went all the way to you. ”

　　"I guess you haven't figured out the case yet?"

　　"Yes, I can't figure out why it happened. I think things are as vague as they were before I went to investigate, but when I started investigating, it seemed simple and that nothing could go wrong. Mr. Holmes, how is it possible to commit a murder without a purpose? What bothers me is that I can't find the purpose of the murder. One man died—of course no one could deny it—but I could not see any reason why anyone was trying to kill him. ”

　　Holmes lit a cigar and leaned back in his chair.

　　He said, "Please talk in detail. ”

　　Stanley Hopkin said: "I've got the facts completely clear. But I still cannot understand the significance of these facts. According to my investigation, here's the thing: A few years ago, an elderly Professor Correme bought this country mansion, the former residence of Joxley. The professor, because of his illness, always lay in bed for half a day; walked limping around the house with a cane half a day, or in a wheelchair, and the gardener pushed him around the garden. The neighbours enjoyed interacting with him. He was a well-known and knowledgeable man there. He had an older housekeeper, Mrs. Mark, and a maid, Susan Tarlton. It had been these two men who had served him since he had been here, and these two women seemed to have a good reputation. The professor is writing a monograph. About a year ago, he felt the need to hire a secretary. He had invited two of them, and it was not appropriate at all. The third, Mr. Willoughby Smith, a young man who had just graduated from a university, was very pleased with him. The secretary's job is to record the professor's dictations in the morning and consult the materials in the evening and books related to the work of the next day. Willoughby Smith behaved well, both when he was young and when he was a student at Cambridge, and the professor was very satisfied. I read his testimony, and he has always been a man of good character, a gentle disposition, and a very hard worker. It was such a young man who was murdered this morning in the professor's study. ”

　　The wind was howling and creaking the windows. Holmes and I moved closer to the fireplace. The young detective continued to narrate the story unhurriedly.

　　He said: "I don't think there is a single family in England as isolated from the outside world as the professor. For weeks, no one in his house could walk out of the gate of the garden. The professor was immersed in his work and ignored everything else. Smith didn't know a neighbor and lived the same life as his master. Nothing required the two women to get out of the garden, and Mortimer, the wheelchair-pushing gardener, received a pension from the army, who had fought in the Crimean War and was also a good man. He lived at one end of the garden, where there were three farmhouses. There were only these people in The Old House of Joxley. Moreover, the gates of the garden are only a hundred yards away from the main road from Kaisem to London. There is a latch on the door, and anyone can come in at will.

　　"Now I'm going to tell you about Susan Tarlton's testimony, and only she can say a little bit about the situation. It happened between eleven and twelve in the morning. She was upstairs, hanging curtains in the front bedroom. Professor Corrium was still lying in bed, and when it was not good, he did not get up until after noon. The housekeeper was busy working behind the room. Willoughby Smith was in his bedroom, and his bedroom was also his living room. Then she heard Willoughby walk down the aisle and go downstairs into the study, which was right at her feet. She didn't see him, but she said she couldn't be mistaken based on Willoughby's swift, powerful footsteps. She didn't hear the sound of the study door closing, and soon a terrible cry came from the room below. The cries were hoarse, desperate, and strange and unnatural, so it was impossible to tell whether it was a man's or a woman's voice. At the same time, there were heavy footsteps, which shook the old house, and then everything was quiet again. Susan was stunned, and it took a while for her to pluck up the courage to go downstairs. She saw the study door close, and she opened it to see Willoughby lying on the floor. At first she didn't see the wound, but when she tried to lift something else, she saw the blood flowing down his neck. A small but deep wound was stabbed in the neck, cutting off the carotid artery, and the tool used for the assassination was a knife placed on a writing desk to seal documents. The handle of the knife is ivory, the back of the knife is very hard, and the knife is a tool on the professor's desk.

　　"At first the maid thought Smith was dead, and when she poured water on his forehead with a cold water bottle, he opened his eyes for a moment and murmured, 'Professor, it's her.'" Susan assured that this was what Willoughby had said. He also tried to say something, and held up the other right hands. Then he put down his hand and died.

　　By this time the housekeeper had also arrived at the scene, but she was one step too late to hear Willoughby's dying words. She left Susan to look at the corpse and ran upstairs to the professor's bedroom. The professor was sitting on the bed, trembling, for from the sounds he heard, he knew that something unfortunate had happened. Mrs. Mark was sure that the professor was still in his pajamas, and Mortimer usually came at twelve o'clock to help the professor get dressed. The professor said he heard a distant cry, and he didn't know anything else. Nor could he explain the young man's dying words: 'Professor, it is her.' But he thought it was delirious nonsense. The professor believes that Willoughby has no enemies and cannot explain the reason for the murder. He immediately instructed Mortimer to call the local police. After a while, the local sheriff went to me. Nothing was moving until I got there, and the sheriff strictly ruled that no one should go near the house from the trail. Mr. Holmes, this case is a good opportunity to apply your theory, and the conditions are already in place. ”

　　My friend said humorously with a smile: "Are the conditions complete?" There is still a lack of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Let's hear your opinion first, Mr. Hopkin, what do you think of this murder? ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, I would like to ask you first to look at this sketch, from which it is possible to give a rough picture of the location of the professor's study and of the place concerned. That way you will easily understand my scouting. ”

　　He opened the sketch and placed it on Holmes's knee. I stood up, walked over to Holmes, and looked at the picture from behind. Now I'll transcribe it below.

　　"Of course this picture is sketchy, only drawing a few places that I think are important. Other places you can imagine as I tell it. Let's first assume that the murderer walked into the study, but how did he get in? There was no doubt that he must have walked through the garden path and walked in through the back door. Because it's a shortcut, straight to the study, and you have to go around everywhere else. And the murderer must have escaped along the way, because the other two exits of the study, one Susan, had already locked when she went downstairs. The other was directly connected to the professor's bedroom. So, I paid attention to the garden path at the beginning, because the path was very wet due to the recent rain, and I could definitely see the footprints.

　　"I found the killer in the investigation to be very cautious and sophisticated, and there were no footprints on the trail. However, it was obvious that someone was walking along the grass on both sides of the path, because the grass there had been trampled on. This man must have been a murderer, for the rain had begun to fall at night, and neither the gardener nor anyone else had been there that morning. ”

　　Holmes said, "Please stop, where does this trail lead?" ”

　　"Lead to the main road."

　　"How long is the trail?"

　　"About a hundred yards or so."

　　"Near the gate, you must be able to find traces, right?"

　　"Unfortunately, the road next to the gate is paved with bricks."

　　"So, are there any traces on the main road?"

　　"The road is all mud."

　　"What a shame! So are the footprints on the grass coming in or out? ”

　　"That's not easy to say. Because the direction of the footprint is very inconspicuous. ”

　　Holmes looked impatient.

　　He said: "It is true that the rain has been very heavy, the wind is blowing very strongly, and it may be more difficult to distinguish the footprints than if I look at the piece of paper." There's no way around it. Hopkin, what are you going to do when you know there's nothing you can do? ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, I think I have figured out some of the situation. I'm sure someone cautiously walked into the house from the outside, and I checked the aisle. The aisles are covered with cushions woven with coconut wool, and there are no traces on the mats. I walked down the aisle to the study. Not much furniture in the study. The main one has a writing desk with a fixed cabinet underneath. The cabinet has two rows of drawers, in the middle is a small cabinet, the drawers are all open, and the small cabinet is locked. The drawers were probably often open and contained nothing valuable. There were some important documents in the small cabinet, but they didn't look like they had been turned over. The professor told me that nothing was missing. It doesn't seem to have robbed anything either.

　　I walked over to the young man's corpse. The body was near the left side of the cabinet, as it was shown on the picture. The knife was stabbed at the right side of the neck, from the back to the front, so it could not be suicide. ”

　　Holmes said, "Unless he falls on a knife." ”

　　"Yes, I had this idea too, but the knife was a few feet away from the body, so it was impossible. Of course, the words of the deceased himself can also be testified. In addition, there is one of the most important pieces of evidence, held in the right hand of the deceased. ”

　　Stanley Hopkin took a small paper bag from his pocket. He opened the paper bag and took out a pair of gold-rimmed nose-clamping glasses with a black ribbon that was broken in two hanging from one end. He said: "Willoughby Smith has good eyesight. The glasses must have been taken from the murderer's face or body. ”

　　Holmes took the glasses and enjoyed them with interest. He put the glasses on the bridge of his nose, tried to look at things, approached the window again and looked outside, then leaned into the light and looked closely at the pair of glasses. Finally, laughing, he sat down at the table and picked up a piece of paper, wrote a few lines, and threw it to Stanley Hopkin across the street.

　　He said, "I can only help you in this way, maybe somewhat usefully." ”

　　Hopkin read aloud:

　　"Look for a woman dressed decently and dressed like an aristocrat. Her nose was wide, her eyes were close to her nose, she had wrinkles on her forehead, her face was dull and stereotyped, and maybe she was still a little shoulder-shaving. There are some indications that she has been to the same optical store at least twice in recent months. Her glasses are very deep. There are not many optical shops in the city, and it is not difficult to find her. ”

　　Hopkin looked very surprised, and at this point my facial expression must have been the same, while Holmes only smiled for a moment, and then continued: "It is easy to draw the above conclusions." Nothing is as powerful as glasses, let alone a special pair of glasses. Considering the delicacy of the glasses and the last words of the deceased, it is not difficult to deduce that the glasses belonged to a woman. As for her being a well-dressed person, that's because I don't think a man with gold-rimmed glasses is sloppy in terms of clothing. Did you notice that the clip of this pair of glasses is wide, which means that the bottom of this lady's nose is wide. Such noses are generally short and thick, but there are many exceptions, so I dare not be too arbitrary. My face was long and narrow, but my eyes were not yet aligned with the center of the lenses, so I could see that the woman's eyes were very close to her nose. Watson, you can see that the lenses are recessed and deep. A person usually squints his eyes to see things, which will inevitably have a certain physiological impact, so that the forehead, eyelids and shoulders have certain characteristics. ”

　　I said, "Yes, I can understand your inference. But, I must confess, I can't understand how you can conclude that she went to the optical store twice. ”

　　Holmes took off his glasses and held them in his hand.

　　He said: "You can see that the clips of the glasses are lined with cork to prevent the nose from being pressurized. Here, one piece of cork is faded and a little worn, but the other is new. Apparently a piece of cork had fallen off here and replaced it with a new one. And this old piece of cork, I think it's only been a few months. The two pieces of cork were exactly the same, so I presume she had been to the same optical store twice. ”

　　Hopkin said enviously, "Oh my God! Wonderfully, all the evidence is in my hands, but I can't do anything about it, but I thought about going to the eyewear stores in London. ”

　　"Of course, you're supposed to go. Is there anything else you want to tell me? ”

　　"No, I don't know more than you, maybe you know more, and we've interrogated all the strangers who appear on that big road or on the train station." We didn't get any situation. What is nerve-wracking is the purpose of this murder. No one can say for what. ”

　　"Ah! I can't help you with that. Do you want us to go check it out tomorrow? ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, if you can go, that's great. At six o'clock in the morning there is a train from Charing Cross Street to Kaisem, and at eight or nine o'clock you can reach the former house of Joxley. ”

　　"Then let's take this train." There are some aspects of this case that are really interesting and I would like to investigate them. A little faster, we'd better sleep for a few hours. You sleep on the sofa in front of the fireplace and it must be very comfortable. Before I leave tomorrow, I'll light an alcohol lamp and make you a cup of coffee. ”

　　The next morning, the wind had stopped. When we set out on the road, it was still cold. The harsh winter sun shines listlessly on the River Thames and the marshlands on both sides. After a boring journey, we got off the train at a station a few miles away from Katham. While waiting for the carriage, we hurried to breakfast, so as soon as we arrived at the old house in Joxley, we immediately began to work. A policeman was waiting for us at the gate of the garden.

　　"Wilson, what's the news?"

　　"Sir, no."

　　"Has anyone reported seeing a living person?"

　　"Nothing. Yesterday there were no living people coming from the train station, and no living people coming from there. ”

　　"Have you asked about hotels and other places to stay?"

　　"Asked, sir. Couldn't find a single person associated with murder. ”

　　"It's not a long way to get from here to Katham. Someone who stays in Katham or goes on a train is not going unnoticed. Mr. Holmes, this is the trail I am talking about. I guarantee there were no footprints on the trail yesterday. ”

　　"Which side of the trail are the footprints on the grass?"

　　"Sir, this side. On a very narrow edge between the trail and the flower bed. I can't see it now, but I saw it clearly yesterday. ”

　　Holmes bent down to look at the grass and said, "Yes, someone has passed by here." The woman must have walked with great care, otherwise she would have left marks on the path, and if she had walked on the other side of the path, she would have left clearer marks on the wet ground. ”

　　"Yes, sir, she must be a very calm-headed person."

　　Holmes thought intently.

　　"You say she must have walked out of this path?"

　　"Yes, sir, there is no other way."

　　"From this stretch of grass?"

　　"Surely so, Mr. Holmes."

　　"Hmm, this murder did a great job—it's brilliant, has the trail come to an end?" Let's go further. I suppose this little door in the garden is usually open, well, then this guest must have entered the house from here. She hadn't thought about killing anyone at that time, or she would have carried a weapon instead of having to pick up a knife on the desk. She walked down the aisle, leaving no trace on the coconut-haired cushion, and then she went into the study. How long did she stay in the study? We can't judge. ”

　　"Sir, just a few minutes. I forgot to tell you that Mrs. Mark, the housekeeper, was cleaning the study not long before the accident, and she said it was about a quarter of an hour before the accident. ”

　　"This tells us a time frame. What did the lady do when she entered the house? She walked over to the writing desk. Why approach the writing desk? It won't be for the things in the drawer. If there was something worth her holding, it must have been locked up. She's going to take the contents of the cabinet, hey! Something seems to have crossed the cabinet, what is the trace? Watson, light a match. Hopkin, why didn't you tell me about this scratch? ”

　　Holmes examined the scratch, which began on a copper sheet to the right of the keyhole, about four inches long, and the skin on the surface of the small cabinet had been scratched off.

　　"Mr. Holmes, I saw it, but there were always scratches around the keyhole."

　　"This scratch is new, very new. You see, how bright the place on the copper sheet is! The old scratch color is the same as the copper sheet surface color. You look at the paint here with my magnifying glass, and the paint on either side of this trail is like the soil that has been turned up on both sides of the plough ditch. Is Mrs. Mark here? ”

　　An older woman with a sad face entered the house.

　　"Did you wipe this cabinet yesterday morning?"

　　"Did you see this trace?"

　　"Sir, I didn't."

　　"Surely you don't, or the rag will wipe off the paint dust." Who holds the key to this cabinet? ”

　　"The key hangs on the professor's bracelet."

　　"Is it an ordinary key?"

　　"It's a car cloth license."

　　"Well, Mrs. Mark, you can go. Now we have a little progress. The lady went into the house and came to the cupboard, either having opened it or trying to open it. It was at this time that Willoughby Smith came into the house. She hurriedly drew out her key and accidentally made a mark on the cabinet door. Willoughby caught her, and she picked up something close at hand, which happened to be the knife, and went to Willowby to get Willobi to let her go. This stabbed Willoughby fatally. Willoughby fell, and she ran away, perhaps with what she was going to take, or perhaps not with it. Is the maid Susan here? Susan, after you hear the shouting, can she walk away through that door? ”

　　"No, sir, that's totally impossible. If someone was in the aisle, I didn't have to go downstairs to see it. The door hadn't been opened, or I would have heard the sound. ”

　　"There's no problem with the exit here. Then the lady must have escaped from the road where she had come from. I knew that this side of the aisle led to the professor's bedroom. So there's no exit here, right? ”

　　"Let's go, let's go see the professor together." Hey, Hopkin, that's important, indeed: the aisle leading to the professor's bedroom is also covered with coconut wool cushions. ”

　　"But what does this have to do with the facts of the case?"

　　"Can't you see it?" I don't insist that it has to be a relationship, but I think it will help. Let's go together, and you introduce me. ”

　　We walked through this aisle, which was as long as the one leading to the garden. At the end of the aisle there is a flight of stairs and at the end of the stairs is a door. Hopkin knocked on the door and led us into the professor's bedroom.

　　The room was huge, it was piled high with books, books on the shelves, under the bookcases, there were books everywhere, and a single bed was placed in the middle of the room. The owner of the house, leaning against the pillow, was lying on the bed. I've never seen someone with such a peculiar appearance. The professor's face was thin and he had an eagle hooked nose, and he turned his face and we saw a pair of sharp dark blue eyes, sunken deep in the eye sockets, clusters of eyebrows hanging low, his hair and beard all white, only the hair around his mouth was still a little yellow. In the midst of the unkempt white beard a cigarette glowed. The room was filled with the unpleasant smell of old tobacco. As he held out his hand to Holmes, I saw that his hand was stained with yellow nicotine.

　　He speaks carefully and speaks very slowly.

　　"Mr. Holmes, do you smoke?" Please draw one. This gentleman, you also smoke one, and I would like you to taste this cigarette, because it was specially made for me by Aeonidus of Alexandria (1). He sent a thousand at a time, and I had to ask him to send them every two weeks. This is not good, it is not good, but what can be done, an old man has nothing to entertain. All I was left with was tobacco and work. ”

　　Holmes lit a cigarette and looked around the room with his eyes.

　　The old man said with emotion: "Cigarettes and work, but now there are only cigarettes." alas! It was unfortunate that this happened, and even I had no intention of working! What a curse! What a rare young man! I can assure you that after a few more months of training, he will be a good assistant. What do you think of this, Mr. Holmes? ”

　　"I haven't thought about it yet."

　　"I would be very grateful if you could help us figure out this clueless case." A nerd and crippled person like me, hit like this, was a blow to the head, and I didn't even have the ability to think. Fortunately, you are here, and you are so shrewd and strong, and your talent and profession are so closely combined, so that you can handle any emergency situation with peace, and it is a great honor to have you to help us. ”

　　Holmes walked around the house while the old professor kept talking. I noticed that Holmes smoked very quickly. It seems that he, like the owner of the house, liked the newly sent Alexander cigarette.

　　The old man said, "Yes, sir, it was a devastating blow. The stack of manuscripts on the small table was my work. I have made (1) a seaport in Egypt on the theoretical basis of the weather sect. - Translator's note is an in-depth study and analysis of the literature found in Coptic monasteries in Syria and Egypt. Therefore, this work is very valuable. However, due to my weakening health and the loss of my assistants, I really do not know whether I will be able to continue to complete this work. Yikes! Mr. Holmes, you smoke faster than I do! ”

　　Holmes laughed.

　　He took another cigarette from the cigarette case, which was already the fourth one, lit it with the rest of the cigarette butt, and said, "I'm a connoisseur." I don't want to interrogate you for a long time and cause you a lot of trouble. Professor Corim, I know you were in bed when something went wrong, so I don't know anything. I just wanted to ask one question, poor Willoughby finally said: 'Professor, it's her', what do you think he meant?" ”

　　The professor shook his head.

　　He said: "Susan is a rural girl. You know this kind of person is incredibly stupid. I suppose the young man was just muttering some incoherent slur, and Susan misunderstood it for something of unclear meaning. ”

　　"So, how do you explain this yourself?"

　　"It may have been an accident, it may have been suicide, but I say this only among our own people, and the youth have some hidden troubles in their hearts, such as love, which we cannot know. Maybe that's more likely than murder. ”

　　"But how do you explain that pair of glasses?"

　　"I'm just a book reader, a good utopian. I'm not good at explaining the actual things in life. But, my friend, we know that the barometer of love has its own special manifestations. Be sure to smoke another cigarette. I'm glad you enjoyed the light that way. When a person is about to end his life, he can hold a fan, a pair of gloves, a pair of glasses, and anything else as a treasure. The gentleman spoke of footprints on the grass, a presumption that could easily be mistaken. As for the knife, it is likely that the young man threw it out when he fell. Maybe I'm not right, but in short, I think Willoughby committed suicide. ”

　　This explanation seemed to amaze Holmes, but he continued to pace back and forth, contemplating intently, smoking one cigarette after another.

　　After a while, he said, "Professor Correem, please tell me what's in the small cabinet at the writing desk?" ”

　　"Nothing interests the thief. Family documents, letters from my unfortunate wife, my degree certificates at some universities, here's the key. You can go and see for yourself. ”

　　Holmes took the key, looked at it for a moment, and then returned it to the professor.

　　He said: "I guess the keys are of little use to me. I'd rather sneak into your garden and think about the situation. The suicide claim you put forward should still be considered. Professor Corim, I'm sorry we've come to bother you all of a sudden. We won't bother you anymore before lunch. At two o'clock, we will come back and report to you on the situation. ”

　　Strangely enough, Holmes seemed to be absent-minded. We walked back and forth silently for a long time on the path in the garden.

　　I later asked, "Do you have a clue?" ”

　　"It all depends on the cigarettes I smoke," he said. It's also possible that I was completely wrong, though, the cigarette would tell me. ”

　　I said in astonishment, "Dear Holmes, how do you—"

　　"You'll get it. If not, there is no harm. Of course, we can also go to the clue of the optical shop. But if the clue of the optical shop is not right, I have found a shortcut to solve the problem, ah! Mrs. Mark is here! We had a good talk with her for five minutes, which would be enlightening to solve the case. ”

　　I should have pointed out long ago that Holmes would have been very good at pleasing women if he had willing, and that he would have gained their trust very quickly. It didn't take him five minutes to gain the trust of the housekeeper and talk to her opportunistically, like an old friend of many years.

　　"Yes, Monsieur Holmes, as you say, there must be something bad that keeps him smoking. Sometimes it's like smoking all day and all night. When I went to him one morning, the house was filled with smoke, as thick as the fog of London. Poor Mr. Smith also smoked, but not as hard as the professor did. For the professor's health, hmm, I don't know if smoking is good or bad. ”

　　Holmes said, "Ah, but smoking is an obstacle to appetite. ”

　　"Sir, I don't understand that."

　　"I think the professor must eat very little."

　　"I should say that he eats a lot and a lot of food."

　　"I bet he must not have had breakfast this morning. I saw him smoke so many cigarettes that he probably couldn't eat lunch. ”

　　"Sir, you lost, things are completely different from what you think, he ate a lot this morning. I've never seen him eat so much, and he asked for a big plate of steaks for lunch. I was amazed. But since yesterday morning I saw Mr. Smith lying on the floor of the house, I have not even wanted to look at what I was eating. Yes, there are all kinds of people in the world, and the professor can't eat because of this. ”

　　We spent the whole morning in the garden. Stanley Hopkin went to the village to investigate some rumors, and it was said that a few children had seen a strange woman on The Road to Katham early in the morning. As for my friend, when he heard the news, he became like a powerless man, and I had never seen him deal with a case so absent-mindedly. Even the news that Hopkin brought back did not attract other interest. Hopkin said: "Some children did see a woman who looked exactly like Holmes said, and she was wearing a pair of glasses, maybe nose-clipping glasses. "During the meal, Susan served us while actively telling some stories. His words aroused great interest in Holmes. Susan said: "Yesterday morning Mr. Smith went out for a walk and came back only half an hour before this tragedy occurred. "I really can't understand how the walking had an impact on the whole case. But it was clear to me that Holmes had incorporated this into his interpretation of the whole case. Suddenly Holmes stood up and looked at the table. He said, "It's two o'clock, gentlemen, and we should go upstairs and talk to our professor about things." ”

　　The old man had just eaten lunch, and the empty plate on the table indicated that he had a good appetite, and the housekeeper was right. When he turned his head and cast his twinkling eyes on us, I felt that he was indeed a mysterious figure. He was already dressed and sitting in an armchair by the fire. Still smoking a cigarette in his mouth.

　　"Mr. Holmes, have you figured out this bizarre case?" He pushed a large tin box of cigarettes on the table near his own and pushed him to Holmes's side. So Holmes held out his hand, but the two of them knocked over the cigarette box, and the cigarette rolled all over the ground. We had to get down on our knees and pick up the scattered cigarettes everywhere for a minute or two. When we stood up, I saw a twinkle in Holmes's eyes, and his cheeks looked particularly rosy. The fleeting expression of war on his face, I had only seen it once in the most critical situation.

　　He said: "Yes, I've figured it out. ”

　　Hopkin and I were stunned. The old professor's gaunt face kept trembling, while revealing a mocking laugh.

　　"Really! In the garden? ”

　　"No, here."

　　"Here! when? ”

　　"It's now."

　　"Mr. Holmes, you must be joking. I have to remind you that this is an extremely serious matter and cannot be done casually. ”

　　"Professor Corim, every argument in my conclusions is investigatively verified, so I'm sure it's right. As for what your motives are, and what role you played in this strange case, I'm not sure yet. In a few minutes you may tell me in person. For your convenience, it is up to me to recount what happened in these two days, so that you can also understand what else I have to ask.

　　"There was a woman who walked into your study yesterday and she came to take the papers from your desk cabinet. She has a key with her, and as for your key, I've checked it, and there's no slight fading on your key that the scratch can cause. I know from the evidence that you didn't know she came to grab the documents, so you are not an accessory. ”

　　The professor spat out a puff of smoke and said, "It's funny and inspiring to me." So the situation of this lady, you have already figured out a lot, of course, you can also say her future actions? ”

　　"Yes, sir, I have to say it. At first your secretary caught her, and in order to get out, she grabbed a knife and stabbed the secretary. I am inclined, however, to regard the case as an unfortunate accident, for I do not think that the lady did not want to stab the secretary to death; if it was a premeditated murder, she must have carried her own weapon. As a result, what she did scared her so much that she was desperate to run away, but she lost her glasses while fighting Willoughby. She was so close-sighted that she couldn't see anything clearly without glasses. She ran down an aisle, thinking it was the aisle she had taken when she came, and it just so happened that the aisles on both sides were covered with cushions made of coconut wool. By the time she knew she had gone wrong, it was too late and the retreat had been cut off. What to do? She couldn't go back, she couldn't stand there, she had to keep going. She went up the stairs, pushed open the door, and came to your room. ”

　　The old professor sat there, his mouth open, looking intently at Holmes, his face showing extreme surprise and fear. He shrugged his shoulders calmly and let out a fake smile.

　　He said, "Mr. Holmes, your reasoning is very good, but there is a small loophole. You know, I've been in the house and haven't left all day. ”

　　"Professor Correem, I know this."

　　"So I was lying in bed and didn't notice a woman coming into my room?"

　　"I didn't say that. You notice that someone is coming. You talk to her, you know her, and you assist her in escaping. ”

　　The professor laughed loudly again. He jerked to his feet, the last glimmer of hope floating in his eyes.

　　He shouted, "You're crazy! You're talking nonsense! Did I help her escape? Where is she now? ”

　　Holmes pointed to a tall bookcase in the corner of the room and said calmly, "She's there." ”

　　When the brakes stopped, the old man was stunned. He raised his trembling hands, and then his whole body fell back into the chair. At this moment, the door of the bookcase in the corner of the room opened automatically, and a woman rushed out and stood in the middle of the room. She said in a very strange Chinese tone, "You're right! You're right! I'm here. ”

　　Her face was covered in dust, and her clothes were covered with spider webs from the walls. She was not very pretty, her body shape and face shape were exactly as Holmes had speculated, and in addition, her chin was relatively long and tenacious. Her eyesight was already very poor, and at the same time she had just gone from dark to light, so she stood there blinking twice, trying to see where we were and where we were. Although she was not beautiful, she was dignified and calm, showing a tenacious and heroic spirit, which made everyone present admire her.

　　Stanley Hopkin grabbed her arm and was about to handcuff her. She looked solemn and gently pushed Hopkin away. The old professor leaned back in his armchair, trembling slightly, looking at her gloomily.

　　She said, "Sir, I was arrested. I can hear everything from my stand in the cupboard, so I know you've figured it out. I am willing to give the whole truth that I killed the young man. You said it was an accident, and that's right. I didn't know I was holding a knife in my hand, because I grabbed something from the table and desperately stabbed at the young man so that he could let go of me. I'm talking about the real situation. ”

　　Holmes said, "Madame, I believe you are telling the truth. I see you're in bad health. ”

　　Her face was ugly, and the dust was terrifying. She sat down on the edge of the bed and continued:

　　"I don't have much time left, but I still have to tell you the whole truth. I am this man's wife. He's not British, he's a Russian, and I don't want to say his name. ”

　　The old man seemed agitated, and he shouted, "Anna, God bless you, God bless you!" ”

　　She looked at the old man with great contempt and said, "Sergis, why do you have to live such a miserable life?" You have ruined many people in your life, and even for yourself. But whether or not to end your life before God calls you is up to you. But I must say, otherwise I will run out of time.

　　"Gentlemen, I said I was this man's wife. When we got married, he was fifty years old, and I was just a stupid girl of twenty. I went to college in a russian city, and I didn't want to name it. ”

　　The old man muttered again, "Anna, God bless you." ”

　　"You know, we are innovators, revolutionaries, anarchists. We were a lot of people. Later, when difficulties were encountered, we had many people arrested because of the murder of a sheriff. In order to get a large amount of money, and in order to survive, he provided evidence and betrayed his wife and partner. As a result of his confession, we were all arrested. Some were sent to the gallows and some were exiled to Siberia. I was sent to Siberia, but not in lifelong exile. My husband came to England with that ill-gotten fortune and lived a peaceful life. He knew very well that if our group knew where he was, it would end his life in less than a week. The old man hesitantly reached out and picked up another cigarette. He said, "Anna, feel free to dispose of me, you've always been nice to me." ”

　　She said, "I haven't told you his greatest sin yet." In our group, there is a comrade who is now my friend, who is noble, selfless, and helpful, and my husband does not have any of these qualities. He hates violence, and if the use of violence is a crime, we have all sinned, and only he has not. He always wrote to us to advise us not to use violence. These letters would have saved him from punishment. My diary can also be attested to because in my diary I recorded my feelings for him and what we all thought. But my husband found the letters and my diary and secretly hid them, while trying to prove that the young man deserved the death penalty. Although he did not achieve his goal, Alexei was sent to Siberia as a criminal to work in a salt mine. You villain, you think, you think about it, such a noble person is treated like a slave, and you, your life is in my hands, but I still let you go. ”

　　The old man spat out a cigarette and said, "Anna, you are a noble woman. ”

　　She stood up slowly, but then she let out a cry of pain and sat down again.

　　She said, "I must finish." After I had served my sentence, I began to try to find these letters and diaries, because if the Russian government got them, it would release my friends. I know my husband has come to England. After months of visiting, I finally figured out his address. I know he still keeps these diaries, because when I was still in Siberia, he once wrote to me and rebuked me with quotes from my diaries. I knew very well that, because of his vengeful nature, he would not voluntarily return the diary to me. I had to find a way to get it myself. So I hired a private detective who came to my husband's house as a secretary—your second secretary, Sergis. Soon after he arrived, he quickly left, and he found all the documents in the small cabinet and took samples of the keys. Unwilling to do more, he gave me the floor plan of the house and told me that the secretary lived upstairs and that there was no one in the study in the morning. So I plucked up the greatest courage later, personally came to take these things, things to get, but what kind of price did it cost!

　　"I had just gotten my diary and letters and was about to lock the cabinet when a young man caught me. I had met him on the road that morning, and I had asked him to tell me where Professor Correem lived, but I did not know that he was the man whom Corym had hired. ”

　　Holmes said, "That's right! When the secretary returned, he told Corym what a woman he had met. Willoughby wanted to explain before he lost his breath: it was the woman he had told the Professor that had killed him. ”

　　The woman's face twitched, as if in great pain, and she said in a commanding tone:

　　"You let me finish. When the young man fell, I broke out of the study and went through the wrong door to my husband's room. He said he was going to denounce me. I told him that if he did this, I would not let him go, and if he handed me over to the police, I would tell his group about him. I don't want to live for myself, but I want to achieve my goals. He knew that he had done what I said, and that his own fate was intertwined with my fate, and it was only for this reason that he covered me. He shoved me into that dark corner—the secret only he knew. He asked the servant to bring the meal to the house so that he could share some with me. We agreed that as soon as the police left the house, I would sneak away in the dark of night and never come back. But you figured out our plan. These are my last words. She took a small bag from her chest. She said to Holmes, "This little parcel can save Alexei." Sir, because of your honor and justice, I entrust you with this parcel and ask you to forward it to the Russian Embassy. I have done my duty, and..."

　　Holmes suddenly shouted, "Stop her!" He jumped to the other side of the room and snatched a small medicine from her hand.

　　She fell to the bed and said, "It's too late! Too late! I came out... At that time, I took medicine. I was dizzy. I'm going to die! Sir, I beg you... Don't forget... That little... parcel. ”

　　As we drove back to town, Holmes said, "This case is simple, but it is also very thought-provoking. From the very beginning, the problem revolved around the nose-clamping glasses. Although the young man was lucky enough to catch his glasses before he died, I wasn't sure at the time whether we would be able to solve the problem. It is clear that from the depth of the glasses, it can be concluded that the person wearing glasses is very deeply myopic and can do nothing without the glasses. Do you remember, Mr. Hopkin, when you made me believe that she had indeed walked through a small patch of grass and not deliberately cheated, as I said at the time, that it was unusual and noteworthy. But in fact, I thought in my heart that this was completely impossible, unless she still had a pair of glasses. So, I can only seriously consider another hypothesis – she stayed in this house. As soon as I saw that the two aisles were identical, I thought that she might well have gone the wrong way, so that she would walk into the professor's room. I pay close attention to everything that confirms this hypothesis, and I carefully examine the room for any place to hide. The carpet is whole and nailed very firmly, so there will be no trapdoors on the floor. There may be a hiding place behind the bookcase. You know, there are often such structures in old-fashioned study rooms. I noticed that the floor was piled up with books everywhere, but the bookcase was empty, so the bookcase might be a door. I couldn't find any other evidence to confirm it, but the carpet was dark brown, so I smoked a lot of that good cigarette and sprinkled soot in front of the suspicious bookcase. It's a very simple approach, but it's very effective. Then I went downstairs, and, having ascertained—Watson, who was present at the time, and you did not understand the purpose of my conversation—Professor Correem's meal had increased, which tended to make one suspect that he had let another man eat. Then we went upstairs again, and I rummaged through the cigarette cases to get a clear picture of the carpet. It was clear from the soot on the carpet that she had come out of hiding after we had left there. Hopkin, we have reached Charing Cross Street, and I congratulate you on your successful conclusion of this case. You must be going to the police headquarters! Watson and I are going to the Russian embassy, goodbye, my friend. ”

　　Empty house

　　In the spring of 1894, the murder of the venerable Ronold Adel in the most unusual and inexplicable circumstances caught the attention of all of London and alarmed the upper class. The details of the case published in the police investigation are known to all, but many details have been deleted. This is because the grounds for prosecution are so sufficient that there is no need to disclose all the evidence. It was only now, nearly a decade later, that I was allowed to fill in some of the gaps in the process of solving the case. The case itself is intriguing, but it seems to me to be nothing more interesting than the unexpected ending. Of all the adventures I've experienced in my life, the outcome of this case shocked and surprised me the most. Even after such a long time, the thought of it now makes me creepy and makes me relive the feeling of joy, wonder and doubt, which completely overwhelmed my consciousness like a sudden tidal wave. Let me say a word to the general public of readers who care about fragments of the words and deeds of an extraordinary person I occasionally talk about: Don't blame me for not letting them share everything I know. If he hadn't personally ordered me to do so, I would have made it my primary obligation. The ban was lifted only on the third of last month.

　　My close association with Sherlock Holmes has led to a keen interest in criminal cases, which is conceivable. After his disappearance, I have carefully read all the doubts that have been published in the public and have never omitted them. To meet the personal ぃ? I've also tried his methods more than once to explain these mysteries, though not very successfully. But there is no doubt that I have been drawn to it as the tragic death of Ronald Adel. When I read the evidence presented at trial and convicted unidentified persons or individuals of intentional murder accordingly, I became more aware than ever of the loss to society caused by Holmes's death. I'm sure there are a few things about this strange thing that will particularly appeal to him. And Europe's premier criminal detective, with his well-trained powers of observation and quick mind, is likely to make up for the lack of police power and more likely to prompt them to act ahead of time. I traveled all day, but I thought about the case and couldn't find an explanation that I thought was a good reason. I risk telling an old story and succinctly repeating the facts of the case that had been made public at the end of the trial.

　　Ronold Adel was the second son of Earl Melus, governor of an Australian colony. Adel's mother returned from Australia to undergo cataract surgery and lives with her son Adel and daughter Hilda at 427 Park Road. This young man was in and out of high society, and as far as everyone knows, he had no enemies or bad habits. He had been engaged to Miss Edith Woodley of Castres, but had agreed to dissolve the marriage a few months earlier, and it was not clear how much nostalgia there was. He spends his days in a small, conservative circle because he is cold by nature and accustomed to a life without change. But between 10 and 11:20 p.m. on March 30, 1894, death suddenly struck the laid-back young man in the most peculiar way.

　　Ronald Adel liked to play cards and played them constantly, but the stakes went from small to the detriment of his identity. He is a member of three card clubs, Baldwin, Cavendish and Bagtell. On the day he was killed, he played a game of Whistle at the Cavendish Club after dinner. He also played cards there that afternoon. Mr. Murray, Sir John Hardy, and Colonel Moran, who played cards with him, proved that they were playing Whistler, and that each of them had about the same amount of cards, and Adel had lost about five pounds, no more. He has a considerable fortune, and winning or losing like this will in no way affect him. He played cards in that club almost every day, not at that club, but he played carefully and often won before leaving the table. The testimony also mentioned that a few weeks earlier, he and Colonel Moran had won as much as four hundred and twenty pounds in one go, Goldfield Milner and Lord Balmoro. That's what was mentioned in the investigative report about his recent situation.

　　On the night of the accident, he returned home from the club at exactly ten o'clock. His mother and sister went to visit relatives' houses. The maid confessed hearing him enter the second-floor vestibule—the room where he often worked as his work. She had already made a fire in the house, and she had opened the window because of the smoke. Until 11:20 a.m. Mrs. Merus and her daughter returned, there was no movement in the house. Mrs. Merus wanted to go into her son's house to say goodnight, only to find the door locked from the inside. The mother and daughter shouted and knocked on the door without saying yes. So someone knocked the door open, only to see this unfortunate young man lying at the table, his head shattered by a revolver bullet, looking terrible, but there was no weapon in the room. On the table were two ten-pound bills and eleven pounds and ten shillings totaling gold and silver coins, which were laid out in ten small piles of varying amounts. There was also a note with a number of words and the names of several club friends, which presumed that he was calculating the winning or losing of the card before he was killed.

　　A detailed inspection of the scene only complicates the case. First, there is no reason why the young man had to plug the door in the house. It is possible that the murderer plugged the door and then escaped through the window. The distance from the window to the ground was at least thirty feet, and the flower beds under the windows were full of saffron flowers. But the flowers and the ground are not like being stepped on, a narrow patch between the house and the street? There are also no traces on the grass. So it was clear that the young man had plugged the door himself. If someone could fire a revolver at a window from the outside and inflict such a fatal wound, that person would be a good shooter. In addition, Park Road is a pedestrianized avenue, and there is a horse station less than a hundred yards from this house. There had been dead, a revolver bullet that would blossom when fired like all lead-headed bullets, and the immediate fatal wounds it caused, but no one had heard the gunshots at the time. These circumstances in the Park Luke case are compounded by the inability to find a motive, for, as I said earlier, no one has heard of any enemies of the young Adel, and no one has touched the money and valuables in his house.

　　I pondered these facts all day long, trying to find a theory that would make sense, to find the least laborious way, and my deceased friend called it the starting point of all investigations. In the evening, I strolled through the park and at about six o'clock I reached the end of Park Road that connects Oxford Street. A group of idle people gathered on the sidewalk, all looking up at a window. They pointed me out to the house I had come specifically to see. A tall, thin man in sunglasses, I very much suspect he was a plainclothes detective, was telling some sort of speculation of his own, and everyone else was listening. I tried to push forward, but his argument sounded ridiculous, and I withdrew from the crowd again with a little disgust. Just then I bumped into an old man with a disability in the back and knocked a few books he was holding to the ground. I remember when I picked up the books, I saw that one of the titles was "The Origin of Tree Worship." This reminded me that the old man must have been a poor bibliophile, collecting some unseen books as a profession or as a hobby. I tried my best to apologize for this unexpected, but the books that I had accidentally touched were obviously very precious things in the eyes of their owners. He roared in disgust, turned and left. I watched as his curved back and gray sideburns disappeared into the crowd.

　　I've looked at 427 Park Road many times, but that didn't do anything to figure out what I was concerned about. The house was separated from the street by only a low fenced wall, no more than five feet high, so it was very easy for anyone to enter the garden. But the window was completely out of reach, because there were no water pipes or anything else outside the wall to help light people climb up. I was even more confused than ever, so I had to turn back to Kensington. I stayed in the study for less than five minutes, and the maid came in and said that someone was going to see me. To my surprise, it wasn't anyone else, it was the eccentric collector of old books. His well-defined, dry face was revealed in his gray whiskers, and his beloved books, at least a dozen, were clutched under his right arm.

　　"You didn't expect it to be me, sir." His voice was strange and hoarse.

　　I admit not thinking it was him.

　　"I feel overwhelmed, sir. I was limping behind you and happened to see you walk into the house. I said to myself that I was going to come in and see the kind gentleman, and told him that if I had just acted a little rough, but not malicious, and thanked him for picking up the book for me. ”

　　"You take this little thing too seriously," I said, "can you ask how you recognize me?" ”

　　"Sir, if not too presumptuous, I am your neighborhood, and my little bookstore is just around the corner of Church Street." Probably you have a collection of books too, sir. There's Birds of England, Catulas, Jihad – very cheap, each one is very cheap. Five more books and you'll be able to fill in the gaps in the second layer. It doesn't seem neat now, does it, sir? ”

　　I turned my head and looked at the back of the bookcase. When I turned back, Sherlock Holmes stood there across the desk and smiled at me. I stood up and stared at him in amazement for a few seconds, and then I seemed to faint, for the first time in my life and the last time in my life. Is there indeed a white mist in my eye that presses 0? The fog was gone, and I found that my neckline was undone, and there was still the pungent aftertaste of brandy on my lips, and Holmes was leaning over my chair, holding the flat wine bottle he had brought with him in one hand.

　　"Dear Watson," said a very familiar voice, "I am deeply sorry. I didn't expect you to be able to stand it this way. ”

　　I clutched his arms tightly.

　　"Sherlock Holmes!" I yelled, "Is it really you?" Are you still alive? How could you possibly crawl out of that terrible abyss? ”

　　"Wait a minute," he said, "do you really feel the spirit to talk about this now?" Look how exciting my dramatic appearance has been. ”

　　"I'm fine. But seriously, Holmes, I couldn't believe my eyes. Oh, my God! There are so many people in the world, it will be you standing in my study alone. "I grabbed one of the other sleeves and touched the lean, strong arm inside." But anyway, you are not a ghost," I said, "dear friend, I am so glad to see you. Sit down and tell me how you escaped from that terrible canyon. ”

　　He sat down facing me and lit a cigarette as usual. He was wrapped in a long, worn-out coat worn by a book seller, and all that was left to see was the pile of white hair and old books on the table. Holmes looked thinner and more alert than before, but his eagle-like face had a pale color that made me see that he had been living irregularly for a while.

　　"I'm glad to straighten up, Watson," he said, "and let a tall man take his length off for hours in a row. My dear old friend, we—if I could ask you for your cooperation—have another night of hard work ahead of us. Maybe it's best to tell you the whole story when the work is done. ”

　　"I'd love to know and prefer to hear it now."

　　"Will you come with me tonight?"

　　"You can go wherever you want."

　　"It's really still the same as it used to be. We still have time for dinner before we leave. Well, let's talk about that canyon. I didn't have much difficulty escaping from the canyon. The reason was simple: I didn't fall into it at all. ”

　　"You didn't fall into it at all?"

　　"No, Watson. I didn't fall into it at all. The note I gave you is completely true. When I found out what I looked like ┮ 跸盏 which 镅堑俳谡驹谀谀跬? When it came to the narrow road to safety, I had no doubt that my end had arrived. In his gray eyes, I sensed a ruthless intention. So I spoke to him for a few words, got his polite permission, and wrote the text message that you received later. I left the letter, cigarette case, and cane with me, and walked along the narrow path, with Moriarty still following me. I reached the end and there was nowhere to go. He didn't pull out his weapon, but suddenly rushed over and hugged me. He knew that everything was finished with him, and he was only anxious to get revenge on me. The two of us twisted together on the edge of the waterfall. But I know a little bit about Japanese wrestling, and I've used it several times in the past. I slipped out of his arms. He let out a terrible scream and kicked frantically a few times, grabbing his hands wildly into the air. Despite all his efforts, he was unable to maintain his balance and fell. I probed and saw him fall a long way down, then crash into a rock, then ejected again and into the water. ”

　　I listened in amazement to this explanation that Holmes gave while smoking.

　　"But there are still footprints!" I exclaimed, "I saw with my own eyes the footprints of two people walking forward on that road, and not one of them walking back." ”

　　"Here's the thing. At the moment when the professor fell into the abyss, I suddenly thought that fate had arranged the most ingenious opportunity for me. I knew that Moriarty alone had vowed to put me to death. There are at least three other people whose desire to take revenge on me will only be strengthened by the death of their leader. They are all the most dangerous people. One of the three will find me. On the other hand, if the whole world believed that I was dead, these few people would act casually and show up soon, so that sooner or later I could eliminate them. At that point, I can declare that I am still on earth. The brain moved so quickly that I believe I had figured it all out before Moriarty had sunk to the bottom of the deep pool that Reichenbach had laid down.

　　I stood up to observe the cliff behind me. In your vivid description, which I later read with relish, you asserted that it was a cliff. You're not entirely right. There are still several narrow footholds exposed on the cliffs, and there is a lot of place that resembles a rock frame. It was obviously impossible to climb all the way up such a high cliff, and it was equally impossible to walk down that wet narrow path without leaving footprints. Of course, I can also wear my shoes upside down as I have done on similar occasions in the past, but the appearance of three pairs of footprints in the same direction will undoubtedly make one think that this is the servant's method. So, overall, it's best to venture up. It's not something that pleases me, Watson. The waterfall rumbled beneath my feet. I am not a man of illusions, but it is not false at all, and it is as if I heard Moriarty's voice shouting at me from the abyss. Several times when my hand didn't grasp the grass around me or my foot slipped down the wet rock gap, I thought I was finished. But I climbed up desperately, and finally climbed up a rock shelf that was a few feet wide, covered with soft green moss, where I could lie down comfortably without being seen. Dear Watson, I lay on a rock shelf while you and your entourage were investigating the scene of my death with great sympathy and ineffectiveness.

　　"You came to the completely wrong conclusion and left there and went back to the hotel, leaving me alone. I thought my peril was over. But there was a very sudden accident, and I had a hunch that something surprising was coming. A huge rock fell from above, and with a loud bang it passed me, hitting the path below, and jumping up and falling into the abyss. I thought the rock had fallen by accident. After a while, I looked up and saw a human head emerging from the dim sky. Then another stone fell and smashed into the place where I was lying, less than a foot from my head. Of course, what this means is clear. Moriarty did not act alone. While he was attacking me, there was a henchman on the watch, and I could see at a glance what a dangerous guy this henchman was. He hid out of sight of my friend and witnessed his friend drowning and my escape. He waited, then took a detour to the top of the cliff in an attempt to fulfill his friend's unsuccessful plan.

　　"I thought about it all without much delay, Watson. I saw the grim face looking down from the top of the cliff, a sign that another stone was about to fall. I climbed down the path below the cliff. I didn't think I could climb down without thinking about it, it was a hundred times harder than climbing up. But I didn't have time to think about the danger of climbing down, because just as I was climbing the edge of the rock frame with both hands and my body was hanging in the air, another stone fell from me with a cry. I climbed halfway to the foot and stepped on the air. Thankfully, God forbid, I fell on that narrow path and fell to my head and bled. I got up and fled, walking ten miles in the dark in the mountains. A week later, I arrived in Florence, where no one in the world knew my whereabouts.

　　"At that time I had only one trustworthy man —my brother Mycroft. I apologize to you again and again, dear Watson. But the most important thing at the time was to make people think I was dead. If you don't believe I'm dead, you won't be able to write a story that is so convincing about my unfortunate ending. I have written to you several times during these three years, but always fear that your deep concern for me will make you careless and leak secrets. It is also for this reason that when you touched my book this evening, I could only avoid you, for I was in a dangerous situation, and at that time, if you showed a little surprise and excitement, you could draw attention to my identity and cause sad and irreparable results. As for Mycroft, it was to get the money I needed, and I had to tell him my secret. In London, things did not go as smoothly as I thought, for in the Moriarty Gang case two of the most dangerous members were missed, allowing these two enemies who did not share my life to go unpunished. I traveled to Tibet for two years, so I often took pleasure in going to Lhasa to spend a few days with the great lama. You may have read a very good expedition by a Norwegian named Sigson, and I am sure you would never have guessed that what you were seeing was your friend's news. I then traveled through Persia, visited the holy land of Mecca, made a brief but interesting visit to Harry in Khartoum, and informed the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the results of the visit to Bai (1) (2). Back in France, I spent months studying the derivatives of coal tar, which was conducted in a laboratory in Montpellier, southern France. I ended the study with satisfaction, and when I heard that there was now only one of my enemies left in London, I was ready to return. At this time the park (1) is the capital of Sudan. (2) The title of the leader of theocratic unity in Islamic countries. The news of Luke's case made me accelerate my actions, not only because the merits of the case attracted me, but also because it seemed to give me the rarest opportunity personally. I immediately went back to my own home on Baker Street in London, and it frightened Mrs. Hudson hysterically. Mycroft kept my room and my records as they were. And so, my dear Watson, at two o'clock this afternoon I found myself sitting in the old chair in my original room, hoping to see my old friend Watson also sitting in the same chair opposite him, where he had always sat. ”

　　That's the bizarre story I heard that night in April. If I hadn't seen with my own eyes the tall, thin body and eager face I thought I would never see again, the story would have been nonsense. I don't know how he learned of my funeral and expressed his condolences with action instead of words. "Work is the most effective antidote to grief," he said, adding that tonight I have given us both a job that if we can successfully end it, we will not live in vain. "I begged him to be more detailed, but it didn't work." "Before dawn there is enough for you to hear and see," he replied, "we have three years to talk about, but only at half past nine, and we will begin this special adventure of empty houses." ”

　　At half past nine, as I used to do, I found myself sitting next to him in a two-seater carriage, my pistol in my pocket, and my heart filled with the thrill of adventure. Holmes was calm and composed, and did not say a word. The bright light of the street lamp shone brightly on his grim face, only to see him frown and ponder, and his lips closed. I don't know what kind of beast we will be searching for in the dark jungle of London, which is full of criminals, but judging by the appearance of this hunter," I am fully convinced that this is a very risky operation. The occasional sneering smile appeared on his ascetic gloomy face, foreshadowing the fierceness of the object of our search.

　　I had guessed we were going to Baker Street, but just around the corner from Cavendish Square, Holmes called for the carriage to stop. I saw him look left and right as he got out of the car, and then on the corners of each street he walked, he looked very carefully to see if anyone was following behind. The route we take is undoubtedly unique. Holmes was unusually familiar with London's remote trails. This time he walked quickly and surely through a series of alleys and stables I never knew. Finally we appeared on a small road lined with some shady old houses. We followed the path to Manchester Street and then to Branford Street. Here he immediately turned into a narrow passage and went through a wooden fence gate into a deserted courtyard. He used the key to open the back door of a house, and we walked in together. The door was closed.

　　It was pitch black, but it was clearly an empty house. The floor without a flat carpet creaked beneath our feet. I reached out and touched a wall, and the paper on it had cracked and hung down. Holmes grabbed my wrist with his cold fingers and led me through a long aisle until I faintly saw the dimly fan-shaped window above the door. Here Holmes suddenly turned to the right, and we entered a large square room, the corners were very dark, only one of the places was illuminated a little by the street lamp in the distance. There were no street lights nearby, and a thick layer of dust had accumulated on the windows, so we could only see each other's outlines inside. My companion put a hand on my shoulder and brought his mouth close to my ear.

　　"Do you know where we are?" He asked quietly.

　　"That's Baker Street over there," I said, looking out through the blurred glass.

　　"Nice. This is the Camden private residence opposite where we live. ”

　　"Why are we here?"

　　"Because from here you can clearly see the tall buildings that have passed." Dear Watson, please come closer to the window, be careful not to expose yourself, and look at our old apartment—didn't so many of your myths and stories begin there? Let's see if I've been away for three years and have completely lost my ability to amaze you. ”

　　I moved forward gently, looking out the window I was familiar with. When my eyes fell on the window, I cried out in surprise. The curtains had been lowered, the room was lit with lights, and the bright curtains clearly reflected a person sitting in the room: the posture of the head, the broad shoulders, the well-defined face, and it would never be wrong to look at it. The face that turned halfway away was like a silhouette that our grandparents liked to frame, exactly like Sherlock Holmes himself. I was so surprised that I hurried over to find out if he was still with me. He laughed silently and his whole body trembled.

　　"See?" He said.

　　"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, "That's wonderful! ”

　　"I believe that my varied approach has not yet dried up with the passage of time, or has become obsolete because of its common use." He said. From his words, I heard the artist's delight and pride in his creation. "It's a bit like me, isn't it?"

　　"I can swear it's you."

　　"The credit goes to Monsieur óê École Monier of Grenoble, who spent a few days making molds. It was a wax figure. The rest was set up by myself on Baker Street this afternoon. ”

　　"You think someone is spying on your apartment?"

　　"I know someone is watching."

　　"Who?"

　　"My nemesis, the lovely bunch, whose leader is now lying beneath the Leisingbach Waterfall. Don't forget that they know I'm alive, and only they know. They believed that sooner or later I would return to my apartment, so they kept watching. This morning they saw me arrive in London. ”

　　"How do you know?"

　　"Because I was looking out the window and I recognized at a glance the man they had sent to keep the sentry. This is a guy who doesn't do enough harm to me, surnamed Buckle, who makes a living by killing and robbing, and is a brilliant Jewish harmonica player. I didn't care about him, but I was very worried about the more difficult person behind him. Is this man a Moriah slanger? Friend, London's most cunning and dangerous criminal, the man who threw stones from a cliff. Watson, it was he who was chasing me tonight, but he had no idea that we were chasing him. ”

　　My friend's plan gradually became apparent: from this near shelter, the watcher was being watched, the stalker was being tracked. The skinny shadow on the window over there was the bait, and the two of us were hunters. We stood together in silence in the darkness, watching the figures hurrying in front of us. Holmes didn't speak or move, but I could tell he was on nervous alert, staring intently at passers-by. It was a cold and noisy night, and the wind blew through the long streets and made a series of whistles. There were many people coming and going on the street, most of them tightly wrapped in coats and scarves. Once or twice I seemed to have seen the same figure i had just seen, and I noticed two figures who looked like they were sheltering in a nearby doorway. I asked Holmes to pay attention to the two men, but he cried impatiently and continued to stare intently into the street. He sometimes moved his feet in a cramped and uneasy manner, his fingers hitting the wall incessantly. Apparently he began to worry that his plan would not be as effective as he had hoped. Finally, at nearly midnight, there were fewer and fewer people on the street, and he could not control his uneasiness, pacing around the house. I was about to say something to him when I looked up at the lighted window and startled me again. I grabbed Holmes's arm and pointed it at the front.

　　"The shadow has moved!" I called out.

　　The shadow on the curtain is no longer on the side but on the back to us.

　　Three years did not eliminate his rough temper or reduce the impatience he expressed to those with less intelligence than him.

　　"Of course it moved," he said, "Watson, am I such a ridiculous fool that I would prop up a dummy that I can recognize at a glance, hoping to deceive some of the most cunning people in Europe by relying on it?" We've been in this room for two hours, and Mrs. Hudson has changed the position of the wax figure eight times, once every quarter of an hour. She turned it from the front so that her own shadow would never be seen. yes! He took a breath. In the faint light, I saw him probing forward, his whole body tense with attention. The street outside was empty. The two men may still be huddled in the doorway, but I can't see them anymore. All kinds of people are silent, except for the fact that we are opposite Qin Xing Xun Zhen Secret Na Hip Love Curtain Meal  Proud  猓  Tailoring The Bed Patient  T? In the midst of the silence, the subtle sizzling sound that I only make when I hold back my extreme excitement is heard in my ears. After a while, he dragged me back into the darkest corner of the room and covered my mouth with one hand. His fingers were trembling, and I had never seen my friend so agitated. The dark streets are still desolate and quietly unfolding before us.

　　But I suddenly realized what his superhuman senses were already aware of. A gentle creeping sound came into my ears, not from the direction of Baker Street, but from behind the house where we were hiding. A door opened and closed. After a while, there were squirming footsteps in the corridor. This footstep, which was originally intended not to make a sound, caused a harsh echo in the empty house. Holmes crouched down against the wall, and so did I, clutching the hilt of my revolver. In the haze I saw an unclear figure, slightly darker than the darkness outside the open door. He stood for a moment, then bent down and sneaked into the house threateningly. This sinister figure was less than three yards away from us. I was ready to wait for him to pounce, before I thought the others didn't know we were here. He walked past us, crept closer to the window, and gently and silently pushed the window up half a foot. When he knelt down against the window, the light on the street was no longer obscured by the dusty glass, and his face was clearly illuminated. The man seemed overwhelmed with excitement, his eyes shining and his face twitching incessantly. He was an elderly man with a small, prominent nose, a bald and tall forehead, and a large gray beard. A foldable top hat is pushed on the back of the head, and the unbuttoned coat reveals the white placket of the night dress. His face was thin and dark, full of fierce wrinkles. He had something in his hand that looked like a cane, and when he placed it on the floor, there was a sonorous sound of metal. Then he took a large piece of something out of the pocket of his coat and fiddled with it for a while, and finally clicked, as if hanging a spring or a plug. Still on his knees on the floor, he bent down to press his full body strength against some lever, followed by a whirl and a rub, and finally a click. So he straightened up, and I could see clearly that he was holding a gun in his hand, and the shape of the butt was very special. He pulled open the chamber, put something in, and snapped the bolt again. He leaned down and put the barrel of his gun on the windowsill. I saw his long beard fall on top of the butt of his rifle, his shining eyes on the sight. As he pressed the butt of his rifle against his right shoulder, I heard a sigh of satisfaction and saw the startling target—the figure in the yellow curtain, unobstructed in front of the muzzle. He stopped, then pulled the plate. There was a strange rattling sound, followed by a string of crisp glass breaking sounds. At this moment, Holmes pounced like a tiger on the shooter's back and threw him face down. He immediately got up and tried his best to choke Holmes's throat. I gave him a shot at the hilt of his pistol, and he fell to the floor again. As I pounced on him and held him down, my friend blew a piercing siren. Immediately there was a rush of running on the sidewalk: two uniformed police officers and a plainclothes detective rushed into the house through the gate.

　　"Is that you, Restred?"

　　"It's me, Mr. Holmes. I took over the task myself. It's nice to see you back in London, sir. ”

　　"I think you need some unofficial help. Three murders in a year can't be solved, Rathriede. You don't handle Morzy's case the way you usually do—that is, you handle it well. ”

　　Everyone has stood up. Our prisoner was gasping for breath, and on either side of him stood a tall policeman. By this time some idlers had begun to gather in the street. Holmes went to the window, closed it, and lowered the curtain again. Rethride lit two candles, and the police turned on their lanterns, and I was finally able to take a good look at the prisoner.

　　Facing us was an energetic and treacherous face. This man, with the forehead of a philosopher and the jaw of a drunkard, seemed to be gifted, good or bad. But anyone who looks at his drooping, mocking eyelids, his cold blue eyes, his ferocious, provocative nose, and his aggressive thick eyebrows, can recognize that these are the most obvious danger signs of the Creator. He paid no attention to the others, but only stared at Holmes's face, which was full of hatred and amazement. "You devil!" He kept muttering, "You cunning devil! ”

　　"Ah, Colonel!" Holmes said as he sorted out the messed collar, "As the old play used to say: 'It's not that the wrongdoers don't meet.'" 'I haven't seen you since I was cared for on the cliffs of the Leisingbach Falls. ”

　　The Colonel was like a trance-like man, still staring intently at my friend. The only thing he could say was this: "You cunning devil!" ”

　　"Colonel, I have not introduced you yet," said Holmes, "and this is Colonel Sebastian Moran, who previously served in Her Majesty's Indian Army, and he is the best marksman of our Eastern Empire. Colonel, I think you're right: your achievements in tiger hunting are still unparalleled in the country, right? ”

　　The fierce old man did not make a sound, still looking at my partner with wide eyes. His wild eyes and upside-down beard made himself like a tiger.

　　"Strangely, my very simple plan can fool such a seasoned hunter." Holmes said, "This should be a method with which you are very familiar. Didn't you also tie a little goat under a tree, hide it in the tree with a rifle of your own, and wait for this little goat as bait to lure the tiger? This empty house has become my tree, and you are the tiger I want to fight. You probably still have a few spare guns in case there are several tigers, or if you don't aim yourself, which is unlikely. They're all my spare guns," he said, gesturing to the people around him, "that's an exact analogy. ”

　　Colonel Moran rushed forward with a roar, but was dragged back by two policemen. The angry expression on his face looked terrible.

　　"I admit that you made a move that surprised me," said Holmes, "and I did not expect that you would also take advantage of this empty house and this convenient front window." I suppose you're moving down the street, where my friend Rethtride and his retinue are waiting for you. Apart from that, everything went as I expected. ”

　　Colonel Moran turned his face to the official detective.

　　"You may or may not have a valid reason to arrest me," he said, "but at least there is no reason for me to be ridiculed by this man." If I am in the hands of the law now, everything will be done according to the law! ”

　　"You are quite reasonable," said Reststrade, "Mr. Holmes, do you have anything else to say before we go?" ”

　　Holmes had already picked up the powerful airsoft gun from the floor and was looking closely at its structure.

　　"What a rare weapon," he said, "silent and extremely powerful." I knew the blind German mechanic von Hedel, a gun he had made for Professor Moriarty. I knew there had been such a gun for years, though I hadn't had a chance to fiddle with it before. Reststrade, I have given you this gun in particular, and these applicable bullets. ”

　　"You can rest assured that you will leave it to us, Monsieur Holmes," said Lestrade, and at this time everyone walked toward the door, "do you have anything else to say?" ”

　　"Just ask you what charges you are going to file against?"

　　"What crime? Naturally, it was an attempt to murder Mr. Holmes. ”

　　"It doesn't work, Restred. I have no intention of coming forward on this matter. This remarkable arrest is your credit, and only yours. Restred, I congratulate you! You caught him with the wisdom and courage that you often showed. ”

　　"Catch him! Who was caught, Mr. Holmes? ”

　　"It was this Colonel Moran, whom the entire police had never found, who, on the thirtieth day of last month, loaded a flowering bullet into an airsoft gun and fired a shot at the front window of the second floor of 427 Park Road, killing Ronald Adel. That's the crime, Restrade. Now, Watson, if you can tolerate the cold wind blowing in through the broken window, you might as well go to my study and smoke a cigar and spend half an hour, so that you can have fun. ”

　　Our old room, thanks to Mycroft's supervision and Mrs. Hudson's direct care, had not changed at all. As soon as I came in, I noticed that the cleanliness of the house was indeed rare, but all the original signs remained the same: this corner was the place for chemical experiments, the pine table that had been stained by acid, and on the shelf was a row of large scrapbooks and reference books, something that many Londoners wanted to burn to be happy about. I looked around and saw the flip charts, the violin case, the pipe holder, and even the Persian slippers with the tobacco. There were already two people in the room: Mrs. Hudson, who was smiling when we came in, and a cold dummy who had played so much in tonight's peril. My friend's painted wax figure, which was made of Wei MiaoWei Shaw, was resting on a small shelf, draped in an old pajama of his, and looked down the street, completely realistic.

　　"Have you obeyed all precautions, Mrs. Hudson?"

　　"As you commanded, I did it on my knees, sir."

　　"Excellent. You're doing a very good job. Did you see where the bullet hit? ”

　　"See, sir. I'm afraid the bullet has broken your beautiful bust. It happened to pass through the head and then hit the wall and smashed it flat. This is what I picked up on the carpet, for you! ”

　　Holmes reached out and handed me the bullet. "A lead-tipped revolver bullet." How ingenious, who would find out that something like this is shot out of an airsoft gun? Well, Mrs. Hudson, I am very grateful for your help. Now, Watson, please sit down again in your old seat, and there are a few points that I would like to discuss with you. ”

　　He had taken off the old dress coat and replaced it with the liquid he had taken from the wax figure.

　　"This old hunter's hands are still shaking and his eyes are not flowering," he said with a smile while examining the broken forehead of the wax figure, "aiming at the middle of the back of the head, just breaking through the brain." He used to be the best shooter in India, and I think there are very few in London who are better than him now. Have you heard his name? ”

　　"Look, that's what's famous! But if I remember correctly, you haven't heard James Moriarty's name in the past. He was one of the universitymen of this century. Please take my biographical index off the shelf and give it to me. ”

　　He sat down in his chair and leaned back, gulping down his cigar smoke and lazily flipping through his records.

　　"The materials I collected in the M department are very good. Moriarty is a man who stands out wherever he is. This is Morgen, the drug dealer, Méridio, and Matthews, who knocked out my left canine tooth in the waiting room at Charing Cross Square. The last one is the friend we see tonight. ”

　　He handed me the notebook, which read:

　　Colonel Sebastian Moran, unemployed, originally belonged to the Bangalore Corps of Engineers. Born in London in 1840, he was the son of Sir Augustus Moran, the former British Minister to Persia. He studied at Eton College and Oxford University. He participated in the Battle of Chovacy, the Battle of Afghanistan, and served in Chalassimab (dispatched), Sherpur, and Kabul. Books: The Great Prey of the Western Himalayas (1881), March in the Jungle (1884). Address: Pipe Street. Clubs: Anglo-Indian Club, Tankville Club, Bagtell Solitaire Club.

　　On the margins of the page are a side note in Sherlock Holmes's clear handwriting: London's Second Most Dangerous Man.

　　"It's amazing," I said as I handed him the book back, "that this man's profession is still that of a decent soldier." ”

　　"Indeed," replied Holmes, "he did a good job to a certain extent. He had always been bold, and in India there were rumors about how he climbed into a ditch to chase a wounded man-eating tiger. Watson, some trees, when they grow to a certain height, will suddenly grow into ugly and strange shapes. You often see this in people. I have a theory that the individual reproduces the whole process of the development of his ancestors in the course of development, and that such a sudden change of good or bad shows some influence in his family lineage, and he seems to be the epitome of his family history. ”

　　"Your idea is a little weird."

　　"Well, I don't insist. Whatever the reason, Colonel Moran began to degenerate. He didn't have any public scandals in India, but he still didn't stay. He retired from the army, came to London, and made a very bad reputation. It was at this time that he was chosen by Professor Moriarty, who was once Moriarty's chief of staff. Moriarty generously provided him with money, but only used him to do one or two very high-level cases that ordinary bandits could not afford. You may still remember the murder of Mrs. Stewart in Lorde in 1887. Can't remember? I was sure that Moran was the mastermind, but there was no evidence to find it. The Colonel was so cleverly concealed that even when the Moriarty gang was breached, we could not accuse him. Do you remember that just that day I went to your apartment to see you, and didn't I close the shutters for the sake of the air gun? Probably at the time you thought I was thinking of something wrong. I knew what I was doing, because I already knew there was such an unusual gun, and I knew that behind it there would be a world-class shooter. When we were in Switzerland, he followed us with Moriarty. There is no doubt that he gave me the unpleasant five minutes on the cliffs of Leisingbach.

　　"As you can imagine, when I lived in France, I read the newspaper just to find an opportunity to subdue him. As long as he's at large in London, it's not interesting for me to live in the world. His shadow would haunt me day and night, and sooner or later his chance to attack me would come. What can I do with him? I can't shoot him when I see him, so I have to go to court myself, and it won't help to ask the mayor for help. They cannot intervene on the basis of seemingly rash suspicions. So I couldn't do anything about it. But I pay attention to the cylinder of the vat on the report bladder hope to be colorful   ∷ : 铱次 iridium? Seeing the news of Ronald Adel's tragic death, my opportunity finally came. In all those cases I know, it is not clear that Colonel Moran did it? He played cards with the young man, then followed him from the club all the way to his house, shot Adel in the open window. There is no doubt about it. This bullet alone was enough to send him to the gallows. I was about to return to London, but was spotted by the sentry, who of course told the Colonel to notice my presence. The Colonel could not but associate my sudden return with the case he had committed, and was utterly horrified. I guessed that he would immediately find a way to get rid of me, and that he would take out the murder weapon again to achieve his goal. I left him a clear target at the window and gave him advance notice that Scotland Yard might need their help (by the way, Watson, you could tell exactly that they were staying in that doorway), and then I found the surveillance point that seemed foolproof to me, never expecting him to pick that place to attack me. Dear Watson, is there anything else I want to explain? ”

　　"Yes," I said, "you have not yet stated what Colonel Moran's motives were for the murder of Ronold Adel. ”

　　"Ah, my dear Watson, we can only speculate on this, but in this respect even the most logical mind can be wrong. Each person can make his own assumptions based on the available evidence, and you and I may be right. ”

　　"So, you've already made your assumptions?"

　　"I would like to state the facts of the case is not difficult. It was known from the testimony that Colonel Moran and the young Adel had won a large sum of money in partnership. Needless to say, Moran cheated — I've known for a long time that he cheated by playing cards. I believe that on the day Adel was killed, Adel discovered that Moran was cheating. It is likely that he spoke to Moran privately and threatened to expose Moran unless he voluntarily quit the club and promised never to play cards again. It is unlikely that a young man like Adel would immediately expose a moran who was both a little business card and much older than him, and make a terrible scandal. Presumably he did as I estimated. For Moran, who makes a living by playing cards and cheating money, expelling him from the club is tantamount to destroying himself. So Moran kills Adel, who is calculating how much he should refund because he is unwilling to profit from his partner's cheating. He locked the door in case his mother and sister suddenly came in and knew what the names and coins he had brought in were for. Does that make sense? ”

　　"I believe you told the truth."

　　"This will be proven at trial, or refuted." At the same time, no matter what happened, Colonel Moran would never bother us again. Von Heddell's remarkable airsoft gun would add to the Scottish Yard Museum, and Mr Holmes would again devote himself to investigating the many interesting little questions raised by the intricacies of life in London. ”