新探案(插图·中文导读英文版)(txt+pdf+epub+mobi电子书下载)

作者：(英)阿瑟·柯南·道尔（Conan Doyle,A.）

出版社：清华大学出版社

格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT

新探案(插图·中文导读英文版)试读：

前言

阿瑟·柯南·道尔（Arthur Conan Doyle，1859—1930），英国著名侦探小说家、剧作家，现代侦探小说的奠基人之一，被誉为“英国侦探小说之父”。

1859年5月22日，柯南·道尔出生在苏格兰首府爱丁堡，他自幼喜爱文学，少年时便阅读了大量的英国、法国文学名著。1876年，他进入爱丁堡大学学习医学；1881年，大学毕业后作为一名随船医生前往西非海岸；1882年，回国后在普利茅斯行医。他的医生职业进展得并不顺利，在此期间，柯南·道尔开始从事文学创作。1885年，柯南·道尔开始创作侦探小说《血字的研究》，并于1887年发表在《比顿圣诞年刊》上。1890年，柯南·道尔出版了第二部小说《四签名》，并一举成名。次年，他弃医从文，专事侦探小说的创作，陆续出版了以福尔摩斯为主人公的系列侦探小说：《波希米亚丑闻》、《红发会》、《身份案》、《恐怖谷》、《五个橘核》、《巴斯克维尔的猎犬》等。1902年，他因有关布尔战争的著作被加封为爵士。1930年7月7日，柯南·道尔逝世于英国。

柯南·道尔一生共创作了60多篇以福尔摩斯为主人公的侦探小说，他塑造的福尔摩斯形象其实就是正义的化身。福尔摩斯已成为世界上家喻户晓的人物、侦探的象征，印在全世界不同种族、不同肤色的人心中。福尔摩斯是一个栩栩如生、有血有肉的形象。他活动在伦敦大雾迷漫的街道上、普普通通的公寓里，似乎随时都可能跟走在街上的读者擦肩而过，因此使人感到十分亲切可信。福尔摩斯善于运用医学、心理学、逻辑学，尤其是他的逻辑推理能力令人叹为观止。他十分注重调查研究，并且对案子充满热情、认真负责，这使他的侦探本领到了神鬼莫测的境地。柯南·道尔通过福尔摩斯探案故事，宣扬善恶有报、法网难逃的思想。小说中所涉及的医学、化学、生物学、犯罪学、法学知识以及探案和侦察方法，即便是对今天的侦探工作也具有一定的借鉴作用。同时，这些作品拥有很高的艺术成就，英国著名小说家毛姆曾说：“和柯南·道尔所写的《福尔摩斯探案全集》相比，没有任何侦探小说曾享有那么大的声誉。”

柯南·道尔以福尔摩斯为主人公的系列侦探小说出版100多年来，一直畅销至今，被译成世界上几十种语言，是全世界公认的侦探小说名著。在中国，福尔摩斯系列侦探小说是最受广大读者欢迎的外国文学之一。目前，在国内数量众多的福尔摩斯侦探小说书籍中，主要的出版形式有两种：一种是中文翻译版，另一种是英文原版。其中的英文原版越来越受到读者的欢迎，这主要是得益于中国人热衷于学习英文的大环境。从英文学习的角度来看，直接使用纯英文素材更有利于英语学习。考虑到对英文内容背景的了解有助于英文阅读，使用中文导读应该是一种比较好的方式，也可以说是该类型书的第三种版本形式。采用中文导读而非中英文对照的方式进行编排，这样有利于国内读者摆脱对英文阅读依赖中文注释的习惯。基于以上原因，我们决定编译“福尔摩斯经典探案系列”丛书，该系列丛书收入了柯南·道尔的《血字的研究》、《四签名》、《福尔摩斯冒险史》、《福尔摩斯回忆录》、《福尔摩斯归来》、《巴斯克维尔的猎犬》、《恐怖谷》、《最后的致意》、《新探案》等经典之作，并采用中文导读英文版的形式出版。在中文导读中，我们尽力使其贴近原作的精髓，也尽可能保留原作的故事主线。我们希望能够编出为当代中国读者所喜爱的经典读本。读者在阅读英文故事之前，可以先阅读中文导读内容，这样有利于了解故事背景，从而加快阅读速度。同时，为了读者更好地理解故事内容，书中加入了大量的插图。我们相信，该经典著作的引进对加强当代中国读者，特别是青少年读者的科学素养和人文修养是非常有帮助的。

本书主要内容由王勋、纪飞编译。参加本书故事素材搜集整理及编译工作的还有郑佳、刘乃亚、赵雪、左新杲、黄福成、冯洁、徐鑫、马启龙、王业伟、王旭敏、陈楠、王多多、邵舒丽、周丽萍、王晓旭、李永振、孟宪行、熊红华、胡国平、熊建国、徐平国、王小红等。限于我们的文学素养和英语水平，书中难免会有不当之处，衷心希望读者朋友批评指正。显赫的主顾/The Adventure of the Illustrious Client

导读

经过十多天的询问之后，这个故事终于得到了福尔摩斯的认同而得到公开。

一九零二年九月三日，福尔摩斯收到了一封来自卡尔俱乐部的信，声明詹姆士·丹曼瑞爵士会在第二天下午四点半拜访，他有重要的事情委托福尔摩斯。福尔摩斯告诉华生，丹曼瑞是个天生的外交家，他邀请华生参与这次案件调查。

第二天四点三十分，丹曼瑞爵士准时来访。可以看出，他非常重视自己的衣着和身份。丹曼瑞爵士告诉福尔摩斯，事件涉及到一个危险人物——葛伦纳男爵，他曾在澳洲杀害自己的妻子，却逃脱了法庭的判决。丹曼瑞爵士告诉福尔摩斯自己不可以告诉他委托人的大名，并请求他去调查。接着丹曼瑞爵士告诉福尔摩斯，坎伯威尔的梅尔维尔将军的女儿维奥莱特·德·梅尔维尔小姐要跟葛伦纳男爵结婚。他必须阻止这件事情发生，但委托人不是将军大人。

福尔摩斯问丹曼瑞爵士，小姐是否知道葛伦纳男爵的罪行。丹曼瑞告诉他，小姐被男爵迷惑了，以为葛伦纳男爵是受害人，别人在诬陷他。葛伦纳男爵现在住在弗尔诺宅邸，在肯辛顿附近；他很有钱，喜欢昂贵的东西。

福尔摩斯找来了欣韦尔·约翰逊，欣韦尔是替福尔摩斯收集情报的人。他会找来关于葛伦纳男爵一些不可公开的肮脏的事情。傍晚福尔摩斯告诉华生，他跟葛伦纳男爵见了面，男爵非常英俊、很友善，但在平静优雅的外表下似乎隐藏着诡诈和黑暗的东西。葛伦纳男爵警告福尔摩斯，希望他不要重演法国勒布伦的悲剧——勒布伦在追踪葛伦纳一个星期之后遭到流氓群殴，终身残废。福尔摩斯和华生在雾气腾腾的桑拿房中

欣韦尔为福尔摩斯找来了凯蒂·温特小姐，她对葛伦纳男爵恨之入骨。温特小姐告诉福尔摩斯，葛伦纳有一个封面印有家族纹章的、带锁的本子，其中有与他发生关系的女人的照片，包括所有的细节，内容污秽不堪。这个本子可能放在书房里面。

福尔摩斯带着温特小姐在将军的安排下见到了将军的女儿，可是不管福尔摩托斯如何苦口婆心地劝诫她，她只是冷冷地、平静地回应，像中了魔法一般。温特小姐发了疯似的告诉那位女士葛伦纳种种不堪的行为，而且她自己也曾经是他的情妇。可是女士毫无动容。福尔摩斯告诉华生，他会静观变化，并等待消息。

两天后，华生在报纸上看到了福尔摩斯被人袭击导致重伤的消息后，就立刻赶到福尔摩斯那里，他并没有生命危险。福尔摩斯让华生在报纸上夸大他的病情，让人觉得他快不行了，并且叮嘱华生去转告欣韦尔，让他把那女人藏起来。

一周后，福尔摩斯的伤口拆线了。他从晚报上得知，三天后，葛伦纳要去美国，福尔摩斯立刻让华生尽可能多地了解中国瓷器。华生在图书馆待了一整天。第二天傍晚，华生去找福尔摩斯，他给了华生一个包装精美的盒子，内有深蓝色泽的盘子，那是明朝蛋壳瓷。

福尔摩斯让华生以西尔·巴顿医生的身份在晚上八点半左右去向葛伦纳推销这个盘子，他知道葛伦纳对这些东西非常着迷。

晚上八点半，华生见到了葛伦纳，他确实十分英俊，声音也很迷人，尽管已经四十二岁了，但看上去却只有三十多一点儿。葛伦纳对华生有些怀疑，他问了华生很多有关瓷器的问题，显然华生被他揭穿了。他已看出来华生是福尔摩斯的探子。

这时身后的房间有一阵声响，葛伦纳追了出去。突然，一个女人向葛伦纳脸上泼了一些东西，那是硫酸，那张俊美的脸立刻变成了魔鬼的面孔。华生帮他处理了脸部伤口之后，回到了贝克街。

福尔摩斯在等着华生，他告诉华生，他乘机找到了那女人所说的小册子。他告诉华生，他找来那女人帮忙却没想到她会有自己的目的。这时詹姆士爵士来了。福尔摩斯把那本小册子和中国盘子交给他，让他一起带走了。

三天后，葛伦纳男爵与梅尔维尔小姐的婚事取消了，而对于温特小姐泼硫酸一案，处罚非常轻。

It can't hurt now, was Mr. Sherlock Holmes's comment when, for the tenth time in as many years, I asked his leave to reveal the following narrative.So it was that at last I obtained permission to put on record what was, in some ways, the supreme moment of my friend's career.

Both Holmes and I had a weakness for the Turkish bath. It was over a smoke in the pleasant lassitude of the drying-room that I have found him less reticent and more human than any-where else.On the upper floor of the Northumberland Avenue establishment there is an isolated corner where two couches lie side by side, and it was on these that we lay upon September 3，1902，the day when my narrative begins.I had asked him whether anything was stirring, and for answer he had shot his long, thin, nervous arm out of the sheets which enveloped him and had drawn an envelope from the inside pocket of the coat which hung beside him.

“It may be some fussy, self-important fool；it may be a matter of life or death，“said he as he handed me the note.“I know no more than this message tells me.”

It was from the Carlton Club and dated the evening before. This is what read：

Sir James Damery presents his compliments to Mr. Sherlock Holmes and will call upon him at 4：30 tomorrow.Sir James begs to say that the matter upon which he desires to consult Mr.Holmes is very delicate and also very important.He trusts, therefore, that Mr.Holmes will make every effort to grant this interview, and that he will confirm it over the telephone to the Carlton Club.

“I need not say that I have confirmed it, Watson，”said Holmes as I returned the paper.“Do you know anything of this man Damery？”

“Only that this name is a household word in society.”

“Well, I can tell you a little more than that. He has rather a reputation for arranging delicate matters which are to be kept out of the papers.You may remember his negotiations with Sir George Lewis over the Hammerford Will case.He is a man of the world with a natural turn for diplomacy.I am bound, therefore, to hope that it is not a false scent and that he has some real need for our assistance.”丹曼瑞爵士来访

“Our？”

“Well, if you will be so good, Watson.”

“I shall be honoured.”

“Then you have the hour—4：30. Until then we can put the matter out of our heads.”

I was living in my own rooms in Queen Anne Street at the time, but I was round at Baker Street before the time named. Sharp to the half hour, Colonel Sir James Damery was announced.It is hardly necessary to describe him, for many will remember that large, bluff, honest personality, that broad, clean-shaven face, and, above all, that pleasant, mellow voice.Frankness shone from his gray Irish eyes, and good humour played round his mobile, smiling lips.His lucent top-hat, his dark frock-coat, indeed, every detail, from the pearl pin in the black satin cravat to the lavender spats over the varnished shoes, spoke of the meticulous care in dress for which he was famous.The big, masterful aristocrat dominated the little room.

“Of course, I was prepared to find Dr. Watson，“he remarked with a courteous bow.“His collaboration may be very necessary, for we are dealing on this occasion, Mr.Holmes, with a man to whom violence is familiar and who will, literally, stick at nothing.I should say that there is no more dangerous man in Europe.”

“I have had several opponents to whom that flattering term has been applied，”said Holmes with a smile.“Don't you smoke？Then you will excuse me if I light my pipe. If your man is more dangerous than the late Professor Moriarty, or than the living Colonel Sebastian Moran, then he is ifideed worth meeting.May I ask his name？”

“Have you ever heard of Baron Gruner？”

“You mean the Austrian murderer？”

Colonel Damery threw up his kid-gloved hands with a laugh.“There is no getting past you, Mr. Holmes！Wonderful！So you have already sized him up as a murderer？”

“It is my business to follow the details of Continental crime. Who couldpossibly have read what happened at Prague and have any doubts as to the man's guilt！It was a purely technical legal point and the suspicious death of a witness that saved him！I am as sure that he killed his wife when the so-called‘accident'happened, in the Splugen Pass as if I had seen him do it.I knew, also, that he had come to England and had a presentiment that sooner or later he would find me some work to do.Well, what has Baron Gruner been up to？I presume it is not this old tragedy which has come up again？”

“No, it is more serious than that. To revenge crime is important, but to prevent it is more so.It is a terrible thing, Mr.Holmes, to see a dreadful event, an atrocious situation, preparing itself before your eyes, to clearly understand whither it will lead and yet to be utterly unable to avert it.Can a human being be placed in a more trying position？”

“Perhaps not.”

“Then you will sympathize with the client in whose interests I am acting.”

“I did not understand that you were merely an intermediary. Who is the principal？”

“Mr. Holmes, I must beg you not to press that question.It is important that I should be able to assure him that his honoured name has been in no way dragged into the matter.His mo-tives are, to the last degree, honourable and chivalrous, but he prefers to remain unknown.I need not say that your fees will be assured and that you will be given a perfectly free hand.Surely the actual name of your client is immaterial？”

“I am sorry，”said Holmes.“I am accustomed to have mystery at one end of my cases, but to have it at both ends is too confusing. I fear, Sir James, that I must decline to act.”

Our visitor was greatly disturbed. His large, sensitive face was darkened with emotion and disappointment.

“You hardly realize the effect of your own action, Mr. Holmes，”said he.“You place me in a most serious dilemma, for I am perfectly certain that you would be proud to take over the case if I could give you the facts, and yet a promise forbids me from revealing them all.May I, at least, lay all that I can before you？”

“By all means, so long as it is understood that I commit myself to nothing.”福尔摩斯和葛伦纳男爵见了面

“That is understood. In the first place, you have no doubt heard of General de Merville？”

“De Merville of Khyber fame？Yes, I have heard of him.”

“He has a daughter, Violet de Merville, young, rich, beautiful, accomplished, a wonderwoman in every way. It is this daughter, this lovely, innocent girl, whom we are endeavouring, to save from the clutches of a fiend.”

“Baron Gruner has some hold over her, then？”

“The strongest of all holds where a woman is concerned the hold of love. The fellow is, as you may have heard, extraordinarily handsome, with a most fascinating manner, a gentle voice, and that air of romance and mystery which means so much to a woman.He is said to have the whole sex at his mercy and to have made ample use of the fact.”

“But how came such a man to meet a lady of the standing of Miss Violet de Merville？”

“It was on a Mediterranean yachting voyage. The company, though select, paid their own passages.No doubt the promoters hardly realized the Baron's true character until it was too late.The villain attached himself to the lady, and with such effect that he has completely and absolutely won her heart.To say that she loves him hardly expresses it.She dotes upon him；she is obsessed by him.Outside of him there is nothing on earth.She will not hear one word against him.Everything has been done to cure her of her madness, but in vain.To sum up, she proposes to marry him next month.As she is of age and has a will of iron, it is hard to know how to precept her.”

“Does she know about the Austrian episode？”

“The cunning devil has told her every unsavoury public scandal of his past life, but always in such a way as to make himself out to be an innocent martyr. She absolutely accepts his version and will listen to no other.”

“Dear me！But surely you have inadvertently let out the name of your client？It is no doubt General de Merville.”

Our visitor fidgeted in his chair.

“I could deceive you by saying so, Mr. Holmes, but it would not be true.De Merville is a broken man.The strong soldier has been utterly demoralizedby this incident.He has lost the nerve which never failed him on the battlefield and has become a weak, doddering old man, utterly incapable of contending with a brilliant, forceful rascal like this Austrian.My client, however, is an old friend, one who has known the General intimately for many years and taken a paternal interest in this young girl since she wore short frocks.He cannot see this tragedy consummated without some attempt to stop it.There is nothing in which Scotland Yard can act.It was his own suggestion that you should be called in, but it was, as I have said, on the express stipulation that he should not be personally involved in the matter.I have no doubt, Mr.Holmes, with your great powers you could easily trace my client back through me, but I must ask you, as a point of honour, to refrain from doing so, and not to break in upon his incognito.”

Holmes gave a whimsical smile.

“I think I may safely promise that，”said he.“I may add that your problem interests me, and that I shall be prepared to look into it. How shall I keep in touch with you？”

“The Carlton Club will find me. But in case of emergency, there is a private telephone call，‘XX.31.'”

Holmes noted it down and sat, still smiling, with the open memorandum-book upon his knee.

“The Baron's present address, please？”

“Vernon Lodge, near Kingston. It is a large house.He has been fortunate in some rather shady speculations and is a rich man, which naturally makes him a more dangerous antagonist.”

“Is he at home at present？”

“Yes.”

“Apart from what you have told me, can you give me any further information about the man？”

“He has expensive tastes. He is a horse fancier.For a short time he played polo at Hurling-ham, but then this Prague affair got noised about and he had to leave.He collects books and pictures.He is a man with a considerable artistic side to his nature.He is, I believe, a recognized authority upon Chinese pottery and has written a book upon the subject.”报纸上刊登了福尔摩斯遭到袭击的消息

“A complex mind，”said Holmes.“All great criminals have that. My old friend Charlie Peace was a violin virtuoso.Wainwright was no mean artist.I could quote many more.Well, Sir James, you will inform your client that I am turning my mind upon Baron Gruner.I can say no more.l have some sources of information of my own, and I dare say we may find some means of opening the matter up.”

When our visitor had left us Holmes sat so long in deep thought that it seemed to me that he had forgotten my presence. At last, however, he came briskly back to earth.

“Well, Watson, any views？”he asked.

“I should think you had better see the young lady herself.”

“My dear Watson, if her poor old broken father cannot move her, how shall I, a stranger, prevail？And yet there is something in the suggestion if all else fails. But I think we must begin from a different angle, I rather fancy that Shinwell Johnson might be a help.”

I have not had occasion to mention Shinwell Johnson in these memoirs because l have seldom drawn my cases from the latter phases of my friend's career. During the first years of the century he became a valuable assistant.Johnson, I grieve to say, made his name first as a very dangerous villain and served two terms at Parkhurst.Finally he repented and allied himself to Holmes, acting as his agent in the huge criminal underworld of London and obtaining information which often proved to be of vital importance.Had Johnson been a“nark”of the police he would soon have been exposed, but as he dealt with cases which never came directly into the courts, his activities were never realized by his companions.With the glamour of his two convictions upon him, he had the entrée of every night-club, doss house, and gambling-den in the town, and his quick observation and active brain made him an ideal agent for gaining information.It was to him that Sherlock Holmes now proposed to turn.

It was not possible for me to follow the immediate steps taken by my friend, for I had some pressing professional business of my own, but I met him by appointment that evening at Simpson's, where, sitting at a small table in the front window and looking down at the rushing stream of life in the Strand, he＆nbsp；told me something of what had passed.

“Johnson is on the prowl，”said he.“He may pick up some garbage in the darker recesses of the underworld, for it is down there, amid the black roots of crime, that we must hunt for this man's secrets.”

“But if the lady will not accept what is already known, why should any fresh discovery of yours turn her from her purpose？”

“Who knows, Watson？Woman's heart and mind are insoluble puzzles to the male. Murder might be condoned or explained, and yet some smaller offence might rankle.Baron Gruner remarked to me—”

“He remarked to you！

“Oh, to be sure, I had not told you of my plans. Well, Watson, I love to come to close grips with my man.I like to meet him eye to eye and read for myself the stuff that he is made of.When I had given Johnson his instructions I took a cab out to Kingston and found the Baron in a most affable mood.”

“Did he recognize you？”

“There was no difficulty about that, for I simply sent in my card. He is an excellent antagonist, cool as ice, silky voiced and soothing as one of your fashionable consultants, and poisonous as a cobra.He has breeding in him—a real aristocrat of crime, with a superficial suggestion of afternoon tea and all the cruelty of the grave behind it.Yes, I am glad to have had my attention called to Baron Adelbert Gruner.”

“You say he was affable？”

“A purring cat who thinks he sees prospective mice. Some people's affability is more deadly than the violence of coarser souls.His greeting was characteristic.‘I rather thought I should see you sooner or later, Mr.Holmes，'said he.‘You have been engaged, no doubt by General de Merville, to endeavour to stop my marriage with his daughter, Violet.That is so, is it not？'”

“I acquiesced.”

“‘My dear man，'said he，‘you will only ruin your own welldeserved reputation. It is not a case in which you can possibly succeed.You will have barren work, to say nothing of incurring some danger.Let me very strongly advise you to draw off at once.'”

“‘It is curious，'I answered，‘but that was the very advice which I had intended to give you. I have a respect for your brains, Baron, and the little which I have seen of your personality has not lessened it.Let me put it to you as man to man.No one wants to rake up your past and make you unduly uncomfortable.It is over, and you are now in smooth waters, but if you persist in this marriage you will raise up a swarm of powerful enemies who will never leave you alone until they have mode England too hot to hold you Is the game worth it？Surely you would be wiser if you left the lady alone.It would not be pleasant for you if these facts of your past were brought to her notice.'”华生直接奔向贝克街

“The Baron has little waxed tips of hair under his nose, like the short antenna of an insect. These quivered with amusement as he listened, and he finally broke into a gentle chuckle.”

“‘Excuse my amusement, Mr. Holmes，'said he，‘but it is really funny to see you trying to play a hand with no cards in it.I don't think anyone could do it better, but it is rather pathetic, all the same.Not a colour card there, Mr.Holmes, nothing but the smallest of the small.'”

“‘So you think.'”

“‘So I know, let me make the thing clear to you, for my own hand is so strong that I can afford to show it. I have been fortunate enough to win the entire affection of this lady.This was given to me in spite of the fact that I told her very clearly of all the unhappy incidents in my past life.I also told her that certain wicked and designing persons—I hope you recognize your—self—would come to her and tell her these things, and I warned her how to treat them.You have heard of posthypnotic suggestion, Mr.Holmes？Well, you will see how it works, for a man of personality can use hypnotism without any vulgar passes or tomfoolery.So she is ready for you and, I have no doubt, would give you an appointment, for she is quite amenable to her father's will—save only in the one little matter.'”

“Well, Watson, there seemed to be no more to say, so I took my leave with as much cold dignity as I could summon, but, as I had my hand on the door—handle, he stopped me.

“‘By the way, Mr. Holmes'said he，‘did you know Le Brun, the French agent？'”

“‘Yes，'said I.”

“‘Do you know what befell him？'”

“I heard that he was beaten by some Apaches in the Montmartre district and crippled for life.”

“‘Quite true, Mr. Holmes.By a curious coincidence he had been inquiring into my affairs only a week before.Don't do it, Mr, Holmes；it's not a lucky thing to do.Several have found that out.My last word to you is, go your own way and let me go mine.Good-bye！'”

“So there you are, Watson. You are up to date now.”

“The fellow seems dangerous.”

“Mighty dangerous. I disregard the blusterer, but this is the sort of man who says rather less than he means.”

“Must you interfere？Does it really matter if he marries the girl？”

“Considering that he undoubtedly murdered his last wife, I should say it mattered very much. Besides, the client！Well, well, we need not discuss that.When you have finished your coffee you had best come home with me, for the blithe Shinwell will be there with his report.”

We found him sure enough, a huge, coarse, red-faced, scorbutic man, with a pair of vivid black eyes which were the only external sign of the very cunning mind within. It seems that he had dived down into what was peculiarly his kingdom, and beside him on the settee was a brand which he had brought up in the shape of a slim, flame-like young woman with a pale, intense face, youthful, and yet so worn with sin and sorrow that one read the terrible years which had left their leprous mark upon her.

“This is Miss Kitty Winter，“said Shinwell Johnson, waving his fat hand as an introduction.“What she don't know—well, there, she'll speak for herself. Put my hand right on her, Mr.Holmes, within an hour of your message.”

“I'm easy to find，”said the young woman.“Hell, London, gets me every time. Same address for Porky Shinwell.We're old mates, Porky, you and I.But, by cripes！there is another who ought to be down in a lower hell than we if there was any justice in the world！That is the man you are after, Mr.Holmes.”

Holmes smiled.“I gather we have your good wishes, Miss Winter.”

“If I can help to put him where he belongs, I'm yours to the rattle，”said our visitor with fierce energy. There was an intensity of hatred in her white, set face and her blazing eyes such as woman seldom and man never can attain.“You needn't go into my past, Mr.Holmes.That's neither here nor there.But what I am Adelbert Gruner made me.If I could pull him down！”She clutched frantically with her hands into the air.“Oh, if I could only pull him into the pit where he has pushed so many！”鉴赏瓷器

“You know how the matter stands？”

“Porky Shinwell has been telling me. He's after some other poor fool and wants to marry her this time.You want to stop it.Well, you surely know enough about this devil to prevent any decent girl in her senses wanting to be in the same parish with him.”

“She is not in her senses. She is madly in love.She has been told all about him.She cares nothing.”

“Told about the'murder？”

“Yes.”

“My Lord, she must have a nerve！”

“She puts them all down as slanders.”

“Couldn't you lay proofs before her silly eyes？”

“Well, can you help us do so？”

“Ain't I a proof myself？If I stood before her and told her how he used me—”

“Would you do this？”

“Would I？Would I not！”

“Well, it might be worth trying. But he has told her most of his sins and had pardon from her, and I understand she will not reopen the question.”

“I'll lay he didn't tell her all，”said Miss Winter.“I caught a glimpse of one or two murders besides the one that made such a fuss. He would speak of someone in his velvet way and then look at me with a steady eye and say：‘He died within a month.'It wasn't hot air, either.But I took little notice—you see, I loved him myself at that time.Whatever he did went with me, same as with this poor fool！There was just one thing that shook me.Yes, by cripes！if it had not been for his poisonous, lying tongue that explains and soothes, I'd have left him that very night.It’s a book he has—a brown leather book with a lock, and his arms in gold no the outside.I think he was a bit drunk that night, or hewould not have shown it to me.”

“What was it, then？”

“I tell you, Mr. Holmes, this man collects women, and takes a pride in his collection, as some men collect moths of butterflies.He had it all in that book.Snapshot photographs, names, details, everything about them.It was a beastly book—a book no man, even if he had come from the gutter, could have put together.But it was Adelbert Gruner's book all the same.‘Souls I have ruined.'He could have put that on the outside if he had been so minded.However, that's neither here nor there, for the book would not serve you, and, if it would, you can't get it.”

“Where is it？”

“How can I tell you where it is now？It's more than a year since I left him, I know where he kept it then. He's a precise, tidy cat of a man in many of his ways, so maybe it is still in the pigeon-hole of the old bureau in the inner study.Do you know his house？”

“I've been in the study，”said Holmes.

“Have you, though？You haven't been slow on the job if you only started this morning. Maybe dear Adelbert has met his match this time.The outer study is the one with the Chinese crockery in it—big glass cupboard between the windows.Then behind his desk is the door that leads to the inner study—a small room where he keeps papers and things.”

“Is he not afraid of burglars？”

“Adelbert is no coward. His worst enemy couldn't say that of him, He can look after himself.There's a burglar alarm at night.Besides, what is there for a burglar—unless they got away with all this fancy crockery？”

“No good，”said Shinwell Johnson with the decided voice of the expert.“No fence wants stuff of that sort that you can neither melt nor sell.”

“Quite so，”said Holmes.“Well, now, Miss Winter, if you would call here tomorrow evening at five, I would consider in the meanwhile whether your suggestion of seeing this lady personally may not be arranged. I am exceedingly obliged to you for your coöperation.I need not say that my clients will consider liberally—”

“None of that, Mr. Holmes，”cried the young woman.“I am not out formoney.Let me see this man in the mud, and I've got all I've worked for—in the mud with my foot on his cursed face.That's my price.I'm with you to—morrow or any other day so long as you are on his track.Porky here can tell you always where to find me.”

I did not see Holmes again until the following evening when we dined once more at our Strand restaurant. He shrugged his shoulders when I asked him what luck he had had in his interview.Then he told the story, which I would repeat in this way.His hard, dry statement needs some little editing to soften it into the terms of real life.

“There was no difficulty at all about the appointment，”said Holmes，“for the girl glories in showing abject filial obedience in all secondary things in an attempt to atone for her flagrant breach of it in her engagement. The General'phoned that all was ready, and the fiery Miss W.turned up according to schedule, so that at half-past five a cab deposited us outside 104 Berkeley Square, where the old soldier resides—one of those awful gray London castles which would make a church seem frivolous.A footman showed us into a great yellow-curtained drawing-room, and there was the lady awaiting us, demure, pale, self-contained, as inflexible and remote as a snow image on a mountain.

“I don't quite know how to make her clear to you, Watson. Perhaps you may meet her before we are through, and you can use your own gift of words.She is beautiful, but with the ethereal other-world beauty of some fanatic whose thoughts are set on high.I have seen such faces in the pictures of the old masters of the Middle Ages.How a beastman could have laid his vile paws upon such a being of the beyond I cannot imagine.You may have noticed how extremes call to each other, the spiritual to the animal, the cave-man to the angel.You never saw a worse case than this.”

“She knew what we had come for, of course—that villain had lost no time in poisoning her mind against us. Miss Winter's advent rather amazed her, I think, but she waved us into our respective chairs like a reverend abbess receiving two rather leprous mendicants.If your head is inclined to swell, my dear Watson, take a course of Miss Violet de Merville.”

“‘Well, sir，'said she in a voice like the wind from an iceberg，‘your name is familiar to me. You have called, as I understand, to malign my fiancé，BaronGruner.It is only by my father’s request that I see you at all, and I warn you in advance that anything you can say could not possibly have the slightest effect upon my mind.’”

“I was sorry for her, Watson. I thought of her for the moment as I would have thought of a daughter of my own.I am not often eloquent.I use my head, not my heart.But I really did plead with her with all the warmth of words that I could find in my nature.I pictured to her the awful position of the woman who only wakes to a man's character after she is his wife—a woman who has to submit to be caressed by bloody hands and lecherous lips.I spared her nothing—the shame, the fear, the agony, the hopelessness of it all.All my hot words could not bring one tinge of colour to those ivory cheeks or one gleam of emotion to those abstracted eyes.I thought of what the rascal had said about a post-hypnotic influence.One could really believe that she was living above the earth in some ecstatic dream.Yet there was nothing indefinite in her replies.”

“‘I have listened to you with patience, Mr. Holmes，'said she.‘The effect upon my mind is exactly as predicted.I am aware that Adelbert, that my fiancé，has had a stormy life in which he has incurred bitter hatreds and most unjust aspersions.You are only the last of a series who have brought their slanders before me.Possibly you mean well, though I learn that you are a paid agent who would have been equally willing to act for the Baron as against him.But in any case I wish you to understand once for all that I love him and that he loves me, and that the opinion of all the world is no more to me than the twitter of those birds outside the window.If his noble nature has ever for an instant fallen, it may be that 1 have been specially sent to raise it to its true and lofty level.I am not cleat’—here she turned eyes upon my companion—‘who this young lady may be.’”

“I was about to answer when the girl broke in like a whirlwind. If ever you saw flame and ice face to face, it was those two women.”

“‘I'll tell you who I am，'she cried, springing out of her chair, her mouth all twisted with passion—‘I am his last mistress. I am one of a hundred that he has tempted and used and ruined and thrown into the refuse heap, as he will you also.Your refuse heap is more likely to be a grave, and maybe that's the best.I tell you, you foolish woman, if you marry this man he'll be the death ofyou.It may be a broken heart or it may be a broken neck, but he'll have you one way or the other.It’s not out of love for you I’m speaking.I don’t care a tinker’s curse whether you live or die.It’s out of hate for him and to spite him and to get back on him for what he did to me.But it’s all the same, and you needn’t look at me like that, my fine lady, for you may be lower than I am before you are through with is.’”

“‘I should prefer not to discuss such matters，'said Miss de Merville coldly.‘Let me say once for all that I am aware of three passages in my fiancé’s life in which he became entangled with designing women, and that I am assured of his hearty repentance for any evil that he may have done.’”

“‘Three passages！'screamed my companion.‘You fool！You unutterable fool！'”

“‘Mr. Holmes, I beg that you will bring this interview to an end，'said the icy voice.‘I have obeyed my father's wish in seeing you, but I am not compelled to listen to the ravings of this person.'”

“With an oath Miss Winter darted forward, and if I had not caught her wrist she would have clutched this maddening woman by the hair. I dragged her towards the door and was lucky to get her back into the cab without a public scene, for she was beside herself with rage.In a cold way I felt pretty furious myself, Watson, for there was something indescribably annoying in the calm aloofness and supreme self-complaisance of the woman whom we were trying to save.So now once again you know exactly how we stand, and it is clear that I must plan some fresh opening move, for this gambit won't work.I'll keep in touch with you Watson, for it is more than likely that you will have your part to play, though it is just possible that the next move may lie with them tether than with us.”

“And it did. Their blow fell—of his blow rather, for never could I believe that the lady was privy to it.I think I could show you the very paving-stone upon which I stood when my eyes fell upon the placard, and a pang of horror passed through my very soul.It was between the Grand Hotel and Charing Cross Station, where a one-legged news-vender displayed his evening papers.The date was just two days after the last conversation.There, black upon yellow, was the terrible newssheet：

MURDEROUS ATTACK UPON SHERLOCK HOLMES

I think I stood stunned for some moments. Then I have a comfused recollection of snatching at a paper, of the strance of the man, whom I had not paid, and, finally, of standing in the doorway of a chemist's shop while I turned up the fateful paragraph.This was how it ran：

We learn with regret that Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the wellknown private detective, was the victim this morning of a murderous assault which has left him in a precarious position.There are no exact details to hand, but the event seems to have occurred about twelve o'clock in Regent Street, outside the Café Royal.The attack was made by two men armed with sticks, and Mr.Holmes was beaten about the head and body, receiving injuries which the doctors describe as most serious.He was carried to Charing Cross Hospital and afterwards insisted upon being taken to his rooms in Baker Street.The miscreants who attacked him appear to have been respectably dressed men, who escaped from the by standers by passing through the Café Royal and out into Glasshouse Street behind it.No doubt they belonged to that criminal fraternity which has so often had occasion to bewail the activity and ingenuity of the injured man.

I need not say that my eyes had hardly glanced over the paragraph before I had sprung into a hansom and was on my way to Baker Street. I found Sir Leslie Oakshott, the famous surgeon, in the hall and his brougham waiting at the curb.

“No immediate danger，”was his report.“Two lacerated scalp wounds and some considerable bruises. Several stitches have been necessary.Morphine has been injected and quiet is essential, but an interview of a few minutes would not be absolutely forbidden.”

With this permission I stole into the darkened room. The sufferer was wide awake, and I heard my name in a hoarse whisper.The blind was three-quarters down, but one ray of sunlight slanted through and struck the bandaged head of the injured man.A crimson patch had soaked through the white linen compress.I sat beside him and bent my head.

“All fight, Watson. Don't look so scared，”he muttered in a very weakvoice.“It's not as bad as it seems.”

“Thank God for that！”

“I'm a bit of a single-stick expert, as you know. I took most of them on my guard.It was the second man that was too much for me.”

“What can I do, Holmes？Of course, it was that damned fellow who set them on. I'll go and thrash the hide off him if you give the word.”

“Good old Watson！No, we can do nothing there unless the police lay their hands on the men. But their get-away had been well prepared.We may be sure of that.Wait a little.I have my plans.The first thing is to exaggerate my injuries.They'11 come to you for news.Put it on thick, Watson.Lucky if I live the week out—concussion—delirium—what you like！You can't overdo it.”

“But Sir Leslie Oakshott？”

“Oh, he's all right. He shall see the worst side of me.I'll look after that.”

“Anything else？”

“Yes. Tell Shinwell Johnson to get that girl out of the way.Those beauties will be after her now.They know, of course, that she was with me in the case.If they dared to do me in it is not likely they will neglect her.That is urgent.Do it to-night.”

“I'll go now. Anything more？”

“Put my pipe on the table—and the tobacco-slipper. Right！Come in each morning and we will plan our campaign.”

I arranged with Johnson that evening to take Miss Winter to a quiet suburb and see that she lay low until the danger was past.

For six days the public were under the impression that Holmes was at the door of death. The bulletins were very grave and there were sinister paragraphs in the papers.My continual visits assured me that it was not so bad as that.His wiry constitution and his determined will were working wonders.He was recovering fast, and I had suspicions at times that he was really finding himself faster than he pretended even to me.There was a curious secretive streak in the man which led to many dramatic effects, but left even his closest friend guessing as to what his exact plans might be.He pushed to an extreme the axiom that the only safe plotter was he who plotted alone.I was nearer him than anyone else, and yet I was always conscious of the gap between.

On the seventh day the stitches were taken out, in spite of which there was a report of erysipelas in the evening papers. The same evening papers had an announcement which I was bound, sick or well, to carry to my friend.It was simply that among the passengers on the Cunard boat Ruritania, starting from Liverpool on Friday, was the Baron Adelbert Gruner, who had some important financial business to settle in the States before his impending wedding to Miss Violet de Merville, only daughter of, etc.，etc.Holmes listened to the news with a cold, concentrated look upon his pale face, which told me that it hit him hard.

“Friday！”he cried.“Only three clear days. I believe the rascal wants to put himself out of danger's way.But he won't, Watson！By the Lord Harry, he won't！Now, Watson, I want you to do something for me.

“I am here to be used, Holmes.”

“Well, than, spend the next twenty-four hours in an intensive study of Chinese pottery.”

He gave no explanations and I asked for none. By long experience I had learned the wisdom of obedience.But when I had left his room I walked down Baker Street, revolving in my head how on earth I was to carry out so strange an order.Finally I drove to the London Library in St.James's Square, put the matter to my friend Lomax, the subtibrarian, and departed to my rooms with a goodly volume under my arm.

It is said that the barrister who crams up a case with such care that he can examine an expert witness upon the Monday has forgotten all his forced knowledge before the Saturday. Certainly I should not like now to pose as an anthority upon ceramics.And yet all that evening, and all that night with a short interval for rest, and all next morning, I was sucking in knowledge and committing names to memory.There I learned of the hall-marks of the great artist-decorators, of the mystery of cyclical dates, the marks of the Hung-wu and the beauties of the Yung-lo, the writings of Tang-ying, and the glories of the primitive period of the Sung and the Yuan.I was charged with all this information when I called upon Holmes next evening.He was out of bed now, though you would not have guessed it from the published reports, and he sat with his much-bandaged head resting upon his hand in the depth of.his favourite armchair.

“Why, Holmes，”I said，“if one believed the papers, you are dying.”

“That，”said he，“is the very impression which I intended to convey. And now, Watson, have you learned your lessons？”

“At. least I have tried to.”

“Good. You could keep up an intelligent conversation on the subject？”

“I believe I could.”

“Then hand me that little box from the mantelpiece.”

He opened the lid and took out a small object most carefully wrapped in some fine Eastern silk. This he unfolded, and disclosed a delicate little saucer of the most beautiful deep-blue colour.

“It needs careful handling, Watson, This is the real eggshell pottery of the Ming dynasty. No finer piece ever passed through Christie's.A complete set of this would be worth a king's ransom—in fact, it is doubtful if there is a complete set outside the imperial palace of Peking.The sight of this would drive a real connoisseur wild.”

“What am I to do with it？”

Holmes handed me a card upon which was printed：“Dr. Hill Barton，369 Half Moon Street.”

“That is your name for the evening, Watson. You will call upon Baron Gruner.I know something of his habits, and at half-past eight he would probably be disengaged.A note will tell him in advance that you are about to call, and you will say that you are bringing him a specimen of an absolutely unique set of Ming china.You may as well be a medical man, since that is a part which you can play without duplicity.You are a collector, this set has come your way, you have heard of the Baron's interest in the subject, and you are not averse to selling at a price.”

“What price？”

“Well asked, Watson. You would certainly fall down badly if you did not know the value of your own wares.This saucer was got for me by Sir James, and comes, I understand, fron the collection of his client.You will not exaggerate if you say that it could hardly be matched in the world.”

“I could perhaps suggest that the set should be valued by an expert.”

“Excellent, Watson！You scintillate to-day. Suggest Christie or Sotheby.Your delicacy prevents your putting a price for yourself.”

“But if he won't see me？”

“Oh, yes, he will see you. He has the collection mania in its most acute form—and especially on this subject, on which he is an acknowledged authority.Sit down, Watson, and I will dictate the letter.No answer needed.You will merely say that you are coming, and why.”

It was an admirable document, short, courteous, and stimulating to the curiosity of the connoisseur. A district messenger was duly dispatched with it.On the same evening, with the precious saucer in my hand and the card of Dr.Hill Barton in my pocket, I set off on my own adventure.

The beautiful house and grounds indicated that Baron Gruner was, as Sir James had said, a man of considerable wealth. A long winding drive, with banks of rare shrubs on either side, opened out into a great gravelled square adorned with statues.The place had been built by a South African gold king in the days of the great boom, and the long, low house with the turrets at the corners, though an architectural nightmare, was imposing in its size and solidity.A butler, who would have adorned a bench of bishops, showed me in and handed me over to a plush-clad footman, who ushered me into the Baron's presence.

He was standing at the open front of a great case which stood between the windows and which contained part. of his Chinese collection.He turned as I entered with a small brown vase in his hand.

“Pray sit down, Doctor，”said he.“I was looking over my own treasures and wondering whether I could really afford to add to them. This little Tang specimen, which dates from the seventh century, would probably interest you.I am sure you never saw finer workmanship or a richer glaze.Have you the Ming saucer with you of which you spoke？”

I carefully unpacked it and handed it to him. He seated himself at his desk, pulled over the lamp, for it was growing dark, and set himself to examine it.As he did so the yellow light beat upon his own features, and I was able to study them at my ease.

He was certainly a remarkably handsome man. His European reputation for beauty was fully deserved.In figure he was not more than of middle size, but was built upon graceful and active lines.His face was swarthy, almost Oriental, with large, dark, lauguorous eyes which might easily hold an irresistible fascination for women.His hair and moustache were raven black, the latter short, pointed, and carefully waxed.His features were regular and pleasing, save only his straight, thinlipped mouth.If ever I saw a murderer's mouth it was there—a cruel, hard gash in the face, compressed, inexorable, and terrible.He was ill-advised to train his moustache away from it, for it was Nature's danger-signal, set as a warning to his victims.His voice was engaging and his manners perfect.In age I should have put him at little over thirty, though his record afterwards showed that he was forth-two.

“Very fine—very fine indeed！”he said at last.“And you say you have a set of six to correspond. What puzzles me is that I should not have heard of such magnificent specimens.I only know of one in England to match this, and it is certainly not likely to be in the market, Would it be indiscreet if I were to ask you, Dr.Hill Barton, how you obtained this？”

“Does it really matter？”I asked with as careless an air as I could muster.“You can see that the piece is genuine, and, as to the value, I am content to take an expert's valuation.”

“Very mysterious，”said he with a quick, suspicious flash of his dark eyes.“In dealing with objects of such value, one naturally wishes to know all about the transaction. That the piece is genuine is certain.I have no doubts at all about that.But suppose—I am bound to take every possibility into account—that it should prove afterwards that you had no right to sell？”

“I would guarantee you against any claim of the sort.”

“That, of course, would open up the question as to what your guarantee was worth.”

“My bankers would answer that.”

“Quite so. And yet the whole transaction strikes me as rather unusual.”

“You can do business or not，”said I with indifference.“I have given you the first offer sa I understood that you were a connoisseur, but I shall have no difficulty in other quarters.

“Who told you I was a connoisseur？”

“I was aware that you had written a book upon the subject.”

“Have you read the book？”

“No.”

“Dear me, this becomes more and more difficult for me to understand！You are a connoisseur and collector with a very valuable piece in your collection, and yet you have never troubled to consult the one book whick would have told you of the real meaning and value of what you held. How do you explain that？”

“I am a very busy man. I am a doctor in practice.”

“That is no answer. If a man has a hobby he follows it up, whatever his other pursuits may be.You said in your note that you were a connoisseur.”

“So I am.”

“Might I ask you a few questions to test you？I am obliged to tell you, Doctor—if you are indeed a doctor—that the incident becomes more and more suspicious. I would ask you what do you know of the Emperor Shomu and how do you associate him with the Shoso-in near Nara？Dear me, does that puzzle you？Tell me a little about the Northern Wei dynasty and its place in the history of ceramics.”

I sprang from my chair in simulated anger.

“This is intolerable, sir，”said I.“I came here to do you a favour, and not to be examined as if I were a schoolboy. My knowledge on these subjects may be second only to your own, but I certainly shall not answer questions which have been put in so offensive a way.”

He looked at me steadily. The languor had gone from his eyes.They suddenly glared.There was a gleam of teeth from between those cruel lips.

“What is the game？You are here as a spy. You are an emissary of Holmes.This is a trick that you are playing upon me.The fellow is dying I hear, so he sends his tools to keep watch upon me.You've made your way in here without leave, and, by God！you may find it harder to get out than to get in.”

He had sprung to his feet, and I stepped back, bracing myself for an attack, for the man was beside himself with rage. He may have suspected me from the first；certainly this crossexamination had shown him the truth；but is was clear that I could not hope to deceive him.He dived his hand into a side drawer and rummaged furiously.Then something struck upon his ear, for he stood listening intently.

“Ah！”he cried.“Ah！”and dashed into the room behind him.

Two steps took me to the open door, and my mind will ever carry a clear picture of the scene within. The window leading out to the garden was wide open.Beside it, looking like some terrible ghost, his head girt with bloody bandages, his face drawn and white, stood Sherlock Holmes.The next instanthe was through the gap, and I heard the crash of his body among the laurel bushes outside.With a howl of rage the master of the house rushed after him to the open window.

And then！It was done in an instant, and yet I clearly saw it. An arm—a woman's arm shot out from among the leaves.At the same instant the Baron uttered a horrible cry—a yell which will always ring in my memory.He clapped his two hands to his face and rushed round the room, beating his head horribly against the walls.Then he fell upon the carpet, rolling and writhing, while scream after scream resounded through the house.

“Water！For God's sake, water！”was his cry.

I seized a carafe from a side-table and rushed to his aid. At the same moment the butler and several footmen ran in from the hall.I remember that one of them fainted as I knelt by the injured man and turned that awful face to the light of the lamp.The vitriol was eating into it everywhere and dripping from the ears and the chin.One eye was already white and glazed.The other was red and inflamed.The features which I had admired a few minutes before were now like some beautiful painting over which the artist has passed a wet and foul sponge.They were blurred, discoloured, inhuman, terrible.

In a few words I explained exactly what had occurred, so far as the vitriol attack was concerned. Some had climbed through the window and others had rushed out on to the lawn, but it was dark and it had begun to rain.Between his screams the victim raged and raved against the avenger.“It was that hell-cat, Kitty Winter！”he cried.“Oh, the she-devil！She shall pay for it！She shall pay！Oh, God in heaven, this pain is more than I can bear！”

I bathed his face in oil, put cotton wadding on the raw surfaces, and administered a hypodermic of morphia. All suspicion of me had passed from his mind in the presence of this shock, and he clung to my hands as if I might have the power even yet to clear those dead-fish eyes which gazed up at me.I could have wept over the ruin had I not remembered very clearly the vile life which had led up to so hideous a change.It was loathsome to feel the pawing of his burning hands, and I was relieved when his family surgeon, closely followed by a specialist, came to relieve me of my charge.An inspector of police had also arrived, and to him I handed my real card.It would have been useless as well as foolish to do otherwise, for I was nearly as well known bysight at the Yard as Holmes himself.Then I left that house of gloom and terror.Within an hour I was at Baker Street.

Holmes was seated in his familiar chair, looking very pale and exhausted. Apart from his injuries, even his iron nerves had been shocked by the events of the evening, and he listened with horror to my account of the Baron's transformation.

“The wages of sin, Watson—the wages of sin！”said he.“Sooner or later it will always come. God knows, there was sin enough，”he added, taking up a brown volume from the table.“Here is the book the woman talked of.If this will not break off the marriage, nothing ever could.But it will, Watson.It must.No self-respecting woman could stand it.”

“It is his love diary？”

“Or his lust diary. Call it what you will.The moment the woman told us of it I realized what a tremendous weapon was there if we could but lay our hands on it.I said nothing at the time to indicate my thoughts, for this woman might have given it away.But I brooded over it.Then this assault upon me gave me the chance of letting the Baron think that no precautions need be taken against me.That was all to the good.I would have waited a little longer, but his visit to America forced my hand.He would never have left so compromising a document behind him.Therefore we had to act at once.Burglary at night is impossible.He takes precautions.But there was a chance in the evening if I could only be sure that his attention was engaged.That was where you and your blue saucer came in.But I had to be sure of the position of the book, and I knew I had only a few minutes in which to act, for my time was limited by your knowledge of Chinese pottery.Therefore I gathered the girl up at the last moment.How could I guess what the little packet was that she carried so carefully under her cloak？I thought she had come altogether on my business, but it seems she had come of her own.”

“He guessed. I came from you.”

“I feared he would. But you held him in play just long enough for me to get the book, though not long enough for an unobserved escape.Ah, Sir James, I am very glad you have come！”

Our courtly friend had appeared in answer to a previous summons. He listened with the deepest attention to Holmes's account of what had occurred.“You have done wonders—wonders！”he cried when he had heard the narrative.“But if these injuries are as terrible as Dr.Watson describes, then surely our purpose of thwarting the marriage is sufficiently gained without the use of this horrble book.”

Holmes shook his head.

“Women of the De Merville type do not act like that. She would love him the more as a disfigured martyr.No, no.It is his moral side, not his physical, which we have to destroy.That book will bring her back to earth—and I know nothing else that could.It is in his own writing.She cannot get past it.”

Sir James carried away both it and the precious saucer. As I was myself overdue, I went down with him into the street.A brougham was waiting for him.He sprang in, gave a hurried order to the cookaded coachman, and drove swiftly away.He flung his overcoat half out of the window to cover the armorial bearings upon the panel, but I had seen them in the glare of our fanlight none the less.I gasped with surprise.Then I turned back and ascended the stair to Holmes's room.

“I have found out who our client is，”I cried, bursting with my great news.“Why, Holmes, it is—”

“It is a loyal friend and a chivalrous gentleman，”said Holmes, holding up a restraining hand.“Let that now and forever be enough for us.”

I do not know how the incriminating book was used. Sir James may have managed it.Or it is more probable that so delicate a task was entrusted to the young lady's father.The effect, at any rate, was all that could be desired.Three days later appeared a paragralph in the Morning Post to say that the marriage between Baron Adelbert Gruner and Miss Violet de Merville would not take place.The same paper had the first police-court heating of the proceedings against Miss Kitty Winter on the grave charge of vitriol-throwing.Such extenuating circumstances came out in the trial that the sentence, as will be remembered, was the lowest that was possible for such an offence.Sherlock Holmes was threatened with a prosecution for burglary, but when an object is good and a client is sufficiently illustrious, even the rigid British law becomes human and elastic.My friend has not yet stood in the dock.皮肤苍白的军人/The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier

导读

一九零三年一月，詹姆士·陶德来访。福尔摩斯从他强健的体格和黝黑的脸上看出他来自南非；而他的体型以及名片上所写的沙格莫顿街股票经纪人的身份则告诉福尔摩斯，他是皇家骑兵，来自卡亘塞克斯军团。

他告诉福尔摩斯，两年前他的好朋友杰佛瑞·爱斯沃斯也加入了同一部队。在一场战役中杰佛瑞中弹，之后他只收到过杰佛瑞的两封来自不同医院的来信，除此以外，什么消息也没有。

他向杰佛瑞的父亲写信打听消息，杰佛瑞的父亲只是回信告诉他，杰佛瑞环游世界去了。陶德显然对这个回答并不满意，于是他来到杰佛瑞家中，但是杰佛瑞的父亲对他并不友好，并且好像在故意隐藏什么，老人希望陶德不要干扰他家的私事。

一天晚上，老仆人跟他说了一些让他摸不着头脑的话。从老仆人的谈话中仿佛杰佛瑞已经死了，在陶德再三地追问下，老仆人说出了更令人恐怖的话。他说如果杰佛瑞死了就还好了。老仆人离开后，陶德看到了杰佛瑞·爱斯沃斯本人，他就站在窗外，惨白的脸紧紧贴在窗户上。当他看到陶德在看自己时，马上闪开了。陶德追了上去，有一条多岔小道通向不同的小屋，陶德清楚地听到了关门声。陶德决定再住一晚。

第二天，陶德又来到那个分岔口，在尽头看到一幢单独的建筑，一个穿黑外衣、戴圆顶高帽的人从里面走出来并锁上了门。

晚上，陶德又来到那幢房子前，透过窗板中间的缝隙，他清楚地看到早上的那个矮个子男人正在看报，而杰佛瑞背对窗户也在看报。讲到这里，福尔摩斯打断了陶德，福尔摩斯需要知道报刊的名字，但陶德不能肯定。接待詹姆士·陶德

陶德接着说：他被人重重地拍了一下，杰佛瑞的父亲站在他后面，并带着他离开了那里，然后让他坐八点半的班车离开了。陶德告诉福尔摩斯，自己离开后就来找他，希望能得到帮助。

第二周，福尔摩斯与陶德一起到了杰佛瑞的家中，并且带了自己的一位老朋友去。福尔摩斯重新问了一遍他见到杰佛瑞的情况。陶德告诉福尔摩斯，那时杰佛瑞的脸色就像漂白过一样，但并不是全身都一样，只是在眉毛处。

福尔摩斯让他的老朋友先等在马车上，然后和陶德进入了杰佛瑞家中。老仆人戴了一副奇怪的手套，在给福尔摩斯他们开门后他将手套脱下放在了小桌上。福尔摩斯设法失手让手套落地，然后去捡，并尽量去闻手套上的味道。

杰佛瑞的父亲看到福尔摩斯和陶德非常气愤，表示要打电话到警局，并赶他们离开。福尔摩斯在纸上写了两个字递给了杰佛瑞的父亲，告诉他这正是他们来的原因。杰佛瑞的父亲没办法，只好带他们去见杰佛瑞。

杰佛瑞见到福尔摩斯和陶德后连连后退，叫着不要靠近他。他的皮肤上布满了一块块白斑，像漂白过一样，他告诉陶德：自己受伤后在南非不幸感染上了麻风病，直到他回到家中症状才出现，他只好躲起来，只让外科医生肯特先生帮助自己。

福尔摩斯说自己带了一位朋友——詹姆士·桑德爵士来，希望能给杰佛瑞复诊。

福尔摩斯根据陶德的描述，判断只有三种可能：犯罪，或是发疯，最后是得了要隔离的疾病。由于没有待破的罪案，而犯罪之人也绝不会躲在家中，从而排除了第一种可能；如果是发疯，把病人关在家中并不犯法，但没有必要如此机密。福尔摩斯知道麻风病在南非比较常见，而送饭老仆人手套上浓烈的药水味，更让他对此确信无疑。

这时，桑德爵士带来了好消息：杰佛瑞并没有得麻风，他得的是被称为假麻风的皮肤病。

The ideas of my friend Watson, though limited, are exceedingly pertinacious. For a long time he has worried me to write an experience of my own.Perhaps I have rather invited this persecution, since I have often had occasion to point out to him how superficial are his own accounts and to accuse him of pandering to popular taste instead of confining himself rigidly to facts and figures.“Try it yourself, Holmes！”he has retorted, and I am compelled to admit that, having taken my pen in my hand, I do begin to realize that the matter must be presented in such a way as may interest the reader. The following case can hardly fail to do so, as it is among the strangest happenings in my collection, though it chanced that Watson had no note of it in his collection.Speaking of my old friend and biographer, I would take this opportunity to remark that if I burden myself with a companion in my various little inquiries it is not done out of sentiment or caprice, but it is that Watson has some remarkable characteristics of his own to which in his modesty he has given small attention amid his exaggerated estimates of my owm performances.A confederate who foresees your conclusions and course of action is always dangerous, but one to whom each development comes as a perpetual surprise, and to whom the future is always a closed book, is indeed an ideal helpmate.

I find from my notebook that it was in January，1903，just after the conclusion of the Boer War, that I had my visit from Mr. lames M.Dodd, a big, fresh, sunburned, upstanding Briton.The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association.I was alone.

It is my habit to sit with my back to the window and to place my visitors in the opposite chair, where the light falls full upon them. Mr.James M.Dodd seemed somewhat at a loss how to begin the interview.I did not attempt to help him, for his silence gave me more time for observation.I have found it wise to impress clients with a sense of power, and so I gave him some of my conclusions.

“From South Africa, sir, I perceive.”

“Yes, sir，”he answered, with some surprise.

“Imperial Yeomanry, I fancy.”

“Exactly.”

“Middlesex Corps, no doubt.”

“That is so. Mr.Holmes, you are a wizard.”

I smiled at his bewildered expression.

“When a gentleman of virile appearance enters my room with such tan upon his face as an English sun could never give, and with his handkerchief in his sleeve instead of in his pocket, it is not difficult to place him. You wear a short beard, which shows that you were not a regular.You have the cut of a ridingman.As to Middlesex, your card has already shown me that you are a stockbroker from Throgmorton Street.What other regiment would you join？”老人退缩着躲开了

“You see everything.”

“I see no more than you, but I have trained myself to notice what I see. However, Mr.Dodd, it was not to discuss the science of observation that you called upon me this morning.What has been happening at Tuxbury Old Park？”

“Mr. Holmes—！”

“My dear sir, there is no mystery. Your letter came with that heading, and as you fixed this appointment in very pressing terms it was clear that something sudden and important had occurred.”

“Yes, indeed. But the letter was written in the afternoon, and a good deal has happened since then.If Colonel Emsworth had not kicked me out—”

“Kicked you out！”

“Well, that was what it amounted to. He is a hard nail, is Colonel Emsworth.The greatest martinet in the Army in his day, and it was a day of rough language, too.I couldn't have stuck the colonel if it had not been for Godfrey's sake.”

I lit my pipe and leaned back in my chair.

“Perhaps you will explain what you are talking about.”

My client grinned mischievously.

“I had got into the way of supposing that you knew everything without being told，”said he.“But I will give you the facts, and I hope to God that you will be able to tell me what they mean. I've been awake all night puzzling my brain, and the more I think the more incredible does it become.”

“When I joined up in January，1901—just two years ago—young Godfrey Emsworth had joined the same squadron. He was Colonel Emsworth's only son—Emsworth the Crimean V.C.—and he had the fighting blood in him, so it is no wonder he volunteered.There was not a finer lad in the regiment.We formed a friendship—the sort of friendship which can only be made when one lives the same life and shares the same joys and sorrows.He was my mate—and that means a good deal in the Army.We took the rough and thesmooth together for a year of hard fighting.Then he was hit with a bullet from an elephant gun in the action near Diamond Hill outside Pretoria.I got one letter from the hospital at Cape Town and one from Southampton.Since then not a word—not one word, Mr.Holmes, for six months and more, and he my closest pal.”

“Well, when the war was over, and we all got back, I wrote to his father and asked where Godfrey was. No answer.I waited a bit and then l wrote again.This time I had a reply, short and gruff.Godfrey had gone on a voyage round the world, and it was not likely that he would be back for a year.That was all.”

“I wasn't satisfied, Mr. Holmes.The whole thing seemed to me so damned unnatural.He was a good lad, and he would not drop a pal like that.It was not like him.Then, again.I happened to know that he was heir to a lot of money, and also that his father and he did not always hit it off too well.The old man was sometimes a bully, and young Godfrey had too much spirit to stand it.No, I wasn't satisfied, and I determined that I would get to the root of the matter.It happened, however, that my own affairs needed a lot of straightening out, after two years'absence, and so it is only this week that I have been able to take up Godfrey's case again.But since I have taken it up I mean to drop everything in order to see it through.”

Mr. James M.Dodd appeared to be the sort of person whom it would be better to have as a friend than as an enemy.His blue eyes were stern and his square jaw had set hard as he spoke.

“Well, what have you done？”I asked.

“My first move was to get down to his home, Tuxbury Old Park, near Bedford, and to see for myself how the ground lay. I wrote to the mother, therefore—I had had quite enough of the curmudgeon of a father—and I made a clean frontal attack：Godfrey was my chum, I had a great deal of interest which I might tell her of our common experiences, I should be in the neighbourhood, would there be any objection, et cetera？In reply I had quite an amiable answer from her and an offer to put me up for the night.That was what took me down on Monday.”

“Tuxbury Old Hall is inaccessible—five miles from anywhere. There was no trap at the station, so I had to walk, carrying my suitcase, and it was nearly dark before I arrived.It is a great wandering house, standing in a considerable park.I should judge it was of all sorts of ages and styles, starting on a half-timbered Elizabethan foundation and ending in a Victorian portico.Inside it was all panelling and tapestry and halfeffaced old pictures, a house of shadows and mystery.There was a butler, old Ralph, who seemed about the same age as the house, and there was his wife, who might have been older.She had been Godfrey's nurse, and I had heard him speak of her as second only to his mother in his affections, so I was drawn to her in spite of her queer appearance.The mother I liked also—a gentle little white mouse of a woman.It was only the colonel himself whom I barred.”他在窗户外面，脸紧贴着玻璃

“We had a bit of barney right away, and I should have walked back to the station if I had not felt that it might be playing his game for me to do so. I was shown straight into his study, and there I found him, a huge, bow-backed man with a smoky skin and a straggling gray beard, seated behind his littered desk.A red-veined nose jutted out like a vulture's beak, and two fierce gray eyes glared at me from under tufted brows.I could understand now why Godfrey seldom spoke of his father.”

“‘Well, sir，'said he in a rasping voice，‘I should be interested to know the real reasons for this visit.'”

“I answered that I had explained them in my letter to his wife.”

“‘Yes, yes, you said that you had known Godfrey in Africa. We have, of course, only your word for that.'”

“‘I have his letters to me in my pocket.'”

“‘Kindly let me see them.'”

“He glanced at the two which I handed him, and then he tossed them back.”

“‘Well, what then？'he asked.”

“‘I was fond of your son Godfrey, sir. Mang ties and memories united us.Is it not natural that I should wonder at his sudden silence and should wish to know what has become of him？'”

“‘I have some recollections, sir, that I had already corresponded with you and had told you what had become of him. He has gone upon a voyage round the world.His health was in a poor way after his African experiences, and bothhis mother and I were of the opinion that complete rest and change were needed.Kindly pass that explanation on to any other friends who may be interested in the matter.'”

“‘Certainly，'I answered.‘But perhaps you would have the goodness to let me have the name of the steamer and of the line by which he sailed, together with the date. I have no doubt that I should be able to get a letter through to him.'”

“My request seemed both to puzzle and to irritate my host. His great eyebrows came down over his eyes, and he tapped his fingers impatiently on the table.He looked up at last with the expression of one who has seen his adversary make a dangerous move at chess, and has decided how to meet it.”

“‘Many people, Mr. Dodd，'said he，‘would take offence at your infernal pertinacity and would think that this insistence had reached the point of damned impertinence.'”

“‘You must put it down, sir, to my real love for your son.'”

“‘Exactly. I have already made every allowance upon that score.I must ask you, however, to drop these inquiries.Every family has its own inner knowledge and its own motives, which cannot always be made clear to outsiders, however wellintentioned.My wife is anxious to hear something of Godfrey's past which you are in a position to tell her, but I would ask you to let the present and the future alone.Such inquiries serve no useful purpose, sir, and place us in a delicate and difficult position.'”

“So I came to a dead end, Mr. Holmes.There was no getting past it.I could only pretend to accept the situation and register a vow inwardly that I would never rest until my friend's fate had been cleared up.It was a dull evening.We dined quietly, the three of us, in a gloomy, faded old room.The lady questioned me eagerly about her son, but the old man seemed morose and depressed.I was so bored by the whole proceeding that I made an excuse as soon as I decently could and retired to my bedroom.It was a large, bare room on the ground floor, as gloomy as the rest of the house, but after a year of sleeping upon the veldt, Mr.Holmes, one is not too particular about one's quarters.I opened the curtains and looked out into the garden, remarking that it was a fine night with a bright halfmoon.Then I sat down by the roaring fire with the lamp on a table beside me, and endeavoured to distract my mind with a novel.I was interrupted, however, by Ralph, the old butler, who came in with a fresh supply of coals.”杰佛瑞的父亲看到福尔摩斯和陶德非常气愤

“‘I thought you might run short in the night-time, sir. It is bitter weather and these rooms are cold.'”

“He hesitated before leaving the room, and when I looked round he was standing facing me with a wistful look upon his wrinkled face.”

“‘Beg your pardon, sir, but I could not help hearing what you said of young Master Godfrey at dinner. You know, sir, that my wife nursed him, and so I may say I am his foster-father.It's natural we should take an interest.And you say he carried himself well, sir？'”

“‘There was no braver man in the regiment. He pulled me out once from under the rifles of the Boers, or maybe I should not be here.'”

“The old butler rubbed his skinny hands.”

“‘Yes, sir, yes, that is Master Godfrey all over. He was always courageous.There's not a tree in the park, sir, that he has not climbed.Nothing would stop him.He was a fine boy—and oh, sir, he was a fine man.'”

“I sprang to my feet.”

“‘Look here！'I cried.‘You say he was. You speak as if he were dead.What is all this mystery？What has become of Godfrey Emsworth？'”

“I gripped the old man by the shoulder, but he shrank away.

“‘I don't know what you mean, sir. Ask the master about Master Godfrey.He knows.It is not for me to interfere.'”

“He was leaving the room, but I held his arm.”

“‘Listen，'I said.‘You are going to answer one question before you leave if I have to hold you all night. Is Godfrey dead？'”

“He could not face my eyes. He was like a man hypnotized.The answer was dragged from his lips.It was a terrible and unexpected one.”

“‘I wish to God he was！'he cried, and, tearing himself free, he dashed from the room.”

“You will think, Mr. Holmes, that I returned to my chair in no very happy state of mind.The old man's words seemed to me to bear only one interpretation.Clearly my poor friend had become involved in some criminal or, at the least, disreputable transaction which touched the family honour.That stern old man had sent his son away and hidden him from the world lest some scandal should come to light.Godfrey was a reckless fellow.He was easily influ-enced by those around him.No doubt he had fallen into bad hands and been misled to his ruin.It was a piteous business, if it was indeed so, but even now it was my duty to hunt him out and see if I could aid him.I was anxiously pondering the matter when I looked up, and there was Godfrey Emsworth standing before me.”

My client had paused as one in deep emotion.

“Pray continue，”I said.“Your problem presents some very unusual features.”

“He was outside the window, Mr. Holmes, with his face pressed against the glass.I have told you that I looked out at the night.When I did so I left the curtains partly open.His figure was framed in this gap.The window came down to the ground and I could see the whole length of it, but it was his face which held my gaze.He was deadly pale—never have I seen a man so white.I reckon ghosts may look like that；but his eyes met mine, and they were the eyes of a living man.He sprang back when he saw that I was looking at him, and he vanished into the darkness.”

“There was something shocking about the man, Mr. Holmes.It wasn't merely that ghastly face glimmering as white as cheese in the darkness.It was more subtle than that—something slinking, something furtive, something guilty—something very unlike the frank, manly lad that I had known.It left a feeling of horror in my mind.”

“But when a man has been soldiering for a year or two with brother Boer as a playmate, he keeps his nerve and acts quickly. Godfrey had hardly vanished before I was at the window.There was an awkward catch, and I was some little time before I could throw it up.Then I nipped through and ran down the garden path in the direction that I thought he might have taken.”

“It was a long path and the light was not very good, but it seemed to me something was moving ahead of me. I ran on and called his name, but it was no use.When I got to the end of the path there were several others branching in different directions to various outhouses.I stood hesitating, and as I did so Iheard distinctly the sound of a closing door.It was not behind me in the house, but ahead of me, somewhere in the darkness.That was enough, Mr.Holmes, to assure me that what I had seen was not a vision.Godfrey had run away from me, and he had shut a door behind him.Of that I was certain.”

“There was nothing more I could do, and I spent an uneasy night turning the matter over in my mind and trying to find some theory which would cover the facts. Next day I found the colonel rather more conciliatory, and as his wife remarked that there were some places of interest in the neighbourhood, it gave me an opening to ask whether my presence for one more night would incommode them.A somewhat grudging acquie scence from the old man gave me a clear day in which to make my observations.I was already perfectly convinced that Godfrey was in hiding somewhere near, but where and why remained to be solved.”

“The house was so large and so rambling that a regiment might be hid away in it and no one the wiser. If the secret lay there it was diffcult for me to penetrate it.But the door which I had heard close was certainly not in the house.I must explore the garden and see what I could find.There was no difficulty in the way, for the old people were busy in their own fashion and left me to my own devices.”

“There were several small outhouses, but at the end of the garden there was a detached building of some size—large enough for a gardener's or a gamekeeper's residence. Could this be the place whence the sound of that shutting door had come？I approached it in a careless fashion as though I were strolling aimlessly round the grounds.As I did so, a small, brisk, bearded man in a black coat and bowler hat—not at all the gardener type—came out of the door.To my surprise, he locked it after him and put the key in his pocket.Then he looked at me with some surprise on his face.”

“‘Are you a visitor here'he asked.”

“I explained that I was and that I was a friend of Godfrey's.”

“‘What a pity that he should be away on his travels, for he would have so liked to see me，'I continued.”

“‘Quite so. Exactly，'said he with a rather guilty air.‘No doubt you will renew your visit at some more propitious time.'He passed on, but when Iturned I observed that he was standing watching me, half-concealed by the laurels at the far end of the garden.”

“I had a good look at the little house as I passed it, but the windows were heavily curtained, and, so far as one could see, it was empty. I might spoil my own game and even be ordered off the premises if I were too audacious, for I was still conscious that I was being watched.Therefore, I strolled back to the house and waited for night before I went on with my inquiry.When all was dark and quiet.I slipped out of my window and made my way as silently as possible to the mysterious lodge.”

“I have said that it was heavily curtained, but now I found that the windows were shuttered as well. Some light, however, was breaking through one of them, so I concentrated my attention upon this.I was in luck, for the curtain had not been quite closed, and there was a crack in the shutter, so that I could see the inside of the room.It was a cheery place enough, a bright lamp and a blazing fire.Opposite to me was seated the little man whom I had seen in the morning.He was smoking a pipe and reading a paper.”

“What paper？”I asked.

My client seemed annoyed at the interruption of his narrative.

“Can it matter？”he asked.

“It is most essential.”

“I really took no notice.”

“Possibly you observed whether it was a broad-leafed paper or of that smaller type which one associates with weeklies.”

“Now that you mention it, it was not large, It might have been the Spectator. However, I had little thought to spare upon such details, for a second was man seated with his back to the window, and I could swear that this second man was Godfrey.I could not see his face, but I knew the familiar slope of his shoulders.He was leaning upon his elbow in an attitude of great melancholy, his body turned towards the fire.I was hesitating as to what I should do when there was a sharp tap on my shoulder, and there was Colonel Emsworth beside me.”

“‘This way, sir！'said he in a low voice. He walked in silence to the house, and I followed him into my own bedroom.He had picked up a time-table in thehall.”

“‘There is a train to London at 8：30，'said he.‘The trap will be at the door at eight.'”

“He was white with rage, and, indeed, I felt myself in so difficult a position that I could only stammer out a few incoherent apologies in which I tried to excuse myself by urging my anxiety for my friend.”

“‘The matter will not bear discussion，'said he abruptly.‘You have made a most damnable intrusion into the privacy of our family. You were here as a guest and you have become a spy.I have nothing more to say, sir, save that I have no wish ever to see you again.'”

“At this I lost my temper, Mr. Holmes, and I spoke with some warmth.”

“‘I have seen your son, and I am convinced that for some reason of your own you are concealing him from the world. I have no idea what your motives are in cutting him off in this fashion, but I am sure that he is no longer a free agent.I warn you, Colonel Emsworth, that until I am assured as to the safety and well-being of my friend I shall never desist in my efforts to get to the bottom of the mystery, and I shall certainly not allow myself to be intimidated by any-thing which you may say or do.'”

“The old fellow looked diabolical, and I really thought he was about to attack me. I have said that he was a gaunt, fierce old giant, and though I am no weakling I might have been hard put to it to hold my own against him.However, after a long glare of rage he turned upon his heel and walked out of the room.For my part, I took the appointed train in the morning, with the full intention of coming straight to you and asking for your advice and assistance at the appointment for which I had already written.”

Such was the problem which my visitor laid before me. It presented, as the astute reader will have already perceived, few difficulties in its solution, for a very limited choice of alternatives must get to the root of the matter.Still, elementary as it was, there were points of interest and novelty about it which may excuse my placing it upon record.I now proceeded, using my familiar method of logical analysis, to narrow down the possible solutions.”

“The servants，”I asked；“How many were in the house？”

“To the best of my belief there were only the old butler and his wife. Theyseemed to live in the simplest fashion.”

“There was no servant, then, in the detached house？”

“None, unless the little man with the beard acted as such. He seemed, however, to be quite a superior person.”

“That seems very suggestive. Had you any indication that food was conveyed from the one house to the other？”

“Now that you mention it, I did see old Ralph carrying a basket down the garden walk and going in the direction of this house. The idea of food did not occur to me at the moment.”

“Did you make any local inquiries？”

“Yes. I did.I spoke to the station-master and also to the innkeeper in the village.I simply asked if they knew anything of my old comrade, Godfrey Emsworth.Both of them assured me that he had gone for a voyage round the world.He had come home and then had almost at once started off again.The story was evidently universally accepted.”

“You said nothing of your suspicions？”

“Nothing.”

“That was very wise. The matter should certainly be inquired into.I will go back with you to Tuxbury Old Park.”

“Today？”

It happened that at the moment I was clearing up the case which my friend Watson has described as that of the Abbey School, in which the Duke of Greyminster was so deeply involved. I had also a commission from the Sultan of Turkey which called for immediate action, as political consequences of the gravest kind might arise from its neglect.Therefore it was not until the beginning of the next week, as my diary records, that I was able to start forth on my mission to Bedfordshire in company with Mr.James M.Dodd.As we drove to Euston we picked up a grave and taciturn gentleman of iron-gray aspect, with whom I had made the necessary arrangements.

“This is an old friend，”said I to Dodd.“It is possible that his presence may be entirely unnecessary, and, on the other hand, it may be essential. It is not necessary at the present stage to go further into the matter.”

The narratives of Watson have accustomed the reader, no doubt, to the factthat I do not waste words or disclose my thoughts while a case is actually under consideration. Dodd seemed surprised, but nothing more was said, and the three of us continued our journey together, In the train I asked Dodd one more question which I wished our companion to hear.

“You say that you saw your friend's face quite clearly at the window, so clearly that you are sure of his identity？”

“I have no doubt about it whatever. His nose was pressed against the glass.The lamplight shone full upon him.”

“It could not have been someone resembling him？”

“No, no, it was he.”

“But you say he was changed？”

“Only in colour. His face was—how shall I describe it？—it was of a fish-belly whiteness.It was bleached.”

“Was it equally pale all over？”

“I think not. It was his brow which I saw so clearly as it was pressed against the window.”

“Did you call to him？”

“I was too startled and horrified for the moment. Then I pursued him, as I have told you, but without result.”

My case was practically complete, and there was only one small incident needed to round it off. When, after a considerable drive, we arrived at the strange old rambling house which my client had described, it was Ralph, the elderly butler, who opened the door.I had requisitioned the carriage for the day and had asked my elderly friend to remain within it unless we should summon him.Ralph, a little wrinkled old fellow, was in the conventional costume of black coat and pepper-and-salt trousers, with only one curious variant.He wore brown leather gloves, which at sight of us he instantly shuffled off, laying them down on the hall-table as we passed in.I have, as my friend watson may have remarked, an abnormally acute set of senses, and a faint but incisive scent was apparent.It seemed to centre on the hall-table.I turned, placed my hat there, knocked if off, stooped to pick it up, and contrived to bring my nose within a foot of the gloves.Yes, it was undoubtedly from them that the curious tarry odour was oozing.I passed on into the study with my case complete.Alas, that Ishould have to show my hand so when I tell my own story！It was by concealing such links in the chain that Watson was enabled to produce his meretricious finales.

Colonel Emsworth was not in his room, but he came quickly enough on receipt of Ralph's message. We heard his quick, heavy step in the passage.The door was flung open and he rushed in with bristling beard and twisted features, as terrible an old man as ever I have seen.He held our cards in his hand, and he tore them up and stamped on the fragments.

“Have I not told you, you infernal busybody, that you are warned off the premises？Never dare to show your damned face here again. If you enter again without my leave I shall be within my rights if I use violence.I'll shoot you, sir！By God, I will As to you, sir，”turning upon me，“I extend the same warning to you.I am familiar with your ignoble profession, but you must take your reputed talents to some other field.There is no opening for them here.”

“I cannot leave here，”said my client firmly，“until I hear from Godfrey's own lips that he is under no restraint.”

Our involuntary host rang the bell.

“Ralph，”he said，“telephone down to the county police and ask the inspector to send up two constables. Tell him there are burglars in the house.”

“One moment，”said I.“You must be aware, Mr. Dodd, that Colonel Emsworth is within his rights and that we have no legal status within his house.On the other hand, he should recognize that your action is prompted entirely by solicitude for his son.I venture to hope that if I were allowed to have five minutes'conversation with Colonel Emsworth I could certainly alter his view of the matter.”

“I am not so easily altered，”said the old soldier.“Ralph, do what I have told you. What the devil are you waiting for？Ring up the police！”

“Nothing of the sort，”I said, putting my back to the door.“Any police interference would bring about the very catastrophe which you dread.”I took out my notebook and scribbled one word upon a loose sheet.“That，”said I as I handed it to Colonel Emsworth，“is what has brought us here.”

He stared at the writing with a face from which every expression save amazement had vanished.

“How do you know？”he gasped, sitting down heavily in his chair.

“It is my business to know things. That is my trade.”

He sat in deep thought, his gaunt hand tugging at his straggling beard. Then he made a gesture of resignation.

“Well, if you wish to see Godfrey, you shall. It is no doing of mine, but you have forced my hand.Ralph, tell Mr.Godfrey and Mr.Kent that in five minutes we shall be with them.”

At the end of that time we passed down the garden path and found ourselves in front of the mystery house at the end. A small bearded man stood at the door with a look of considerable astonishment upon his face.

“This is very sudden, Colonel Emsworth，”said he.“This will disarrange all our plans.”

“I can't help it, Mr. Kent.Our hands have been forced.Can Mr.Godfrey see us？”

“Yes, hs is waiting inside.”He turned and led us into a large, plainly furnished front room. A man was standing with his back to the fire, and at the sight of him my client sprang forward with outstretched hand.

“Why, Godfrey, old man, this is fine！”

But the other waved him back.

“Don't touch me, Jimmie. Keep your distance.Yes, you may well stare！I don't quite look the smart Lance-Corporal Emsworth, of B Squadron, do I？”

His appearance was certainly extraordinary. One could see that he had indeed been a hand-some man with clear-cut features sunburned by an African sun, but mottled in patches over this darker surface were curious whitish patches which had bleached his skin.

“That's why I don't court visitors，”said he.“I don't mind you, Jimmie, but I could have done without your friend. I suppose there is some good reason for it, but you have me at a disadvantage.”

“I wanted to be sure that all was well with you, Godfrey. I saw you that night when you looked into my window, and I could not let the matter rest till I had cleared things up.”

“Old Ralph told me you were there, and I couldn't help taking a peep at you. I hoped you would not have seen me, and I had to run to my burrow whenI heard the window go up.”

“But what in heaven's name is the matter？”

“Well, it's not a long story to tell，”said he, lighting a cigarette.“You remember that morning fight at Buffelsspruit, outside Pretoria, on the Eastern railway line？You heard I was hit？”

“Yes, I heard that but I never got particulars.”

“Three of us got separated from the others. It was very broken country, you may remember.There was Simpson—the fellow we called Baldy Simpson—and Anderson, and I.We were clearing brother Boer, but he lay low and got the three of us.The other two were killed.I got an elephant bullet through my shoulder.I stuck on to my horse, however, and he galloped several miles before I fainted and rolled off the saddle.

“When I came to myself it was nightfall, and I raised myself up, feeling very weak and ill. To my surprise there was a house close beside me, a fairly large house with a broad stoep and many windows.It was deadly cold.You remember the kind of numb cold which used to come at evening, a deadly, sickening sort of cold, very different from a crisp healthy frost.Well, I was chilled to the bone, and my only hope seemed to lie in reaching that house.I staggered to my feet and dragged myself along, hardly conscious of what I did.I have a dim memory of slowly ascending the steps, entering a wide-opened door, passing into a large room which contained several beds, and throwing myself down with a gasp of satisfaction upon one of them.It was unmade, but that troubled me not at all.I drew the clothes over my shivering body and in a moment I was in a deep sleep.

“It was morning when I wakened, and it seemed to me that instead of coming out into a world of sanity I had emerged into some extraordinary nightmare. The African sun flooded through the big, curtainless windows, and every detail of the great, bare, whitewashed dormitory stood out hard and clear.In front of me was standing a small, dwarf-like man with a huge, bulbous head, who was jabbering excitedly in Dutch, waving two horrible hands which looked to me like brown sponges.Behind him stood a group of people who seemed to be intensely amused by the situation, but a chill came over me as I looked at them.Not one of them was a normal human being.Every one wastwisted or swollen or disfigured in some strange way.The laughter of these strange monstrosities was a dreadful thing to hear.

“It seemed that none of them could speak English, but the situation wanted clearing up, for the creature with the big head was growing furiously angry, and, uttering wild-beast cries, he had laid his deformed hands upon me and was dragging me out of bed, regardless of the fresh flow of blood from my wound. The little monster was as strong as a bull, and I don't know what he might have done to me had not an elderly man who was clearly in authority been attracted to the room by the hubbub.He said a few stern words in Dutch, and my persecutor shrank away.Then he turned upon me, gazing at me in the utmost amazement.

“‘How in the world did you come here？'he asked in amazement.‘Wait a bit！I see that you are tired out and that wounded shoulder of yours wants looking after. I am a doctor, and I'll soon have you tied up.But, man alive！you are in far greater danger here than ever you were on the battlefield.You are in the Leper Hospital, and you have slept in a leper's bed.'

“Need I tell you more, Jimmie？It seems that in view of the approaching battle all these poor creatures had been evacuated the day before. Then, as the British advanced, they had been brought back by this, their medical superintendent, who assured me that, though he believed he was immune to the disease, he would none the less never have dared to do what I had done.He put me in a private room, treated me kindly, and within a week or so I was removed to the general hospital at Pretoria.

“So there you have my tragedy. I hoped against hope, but it was not until I had reached home that the terrible signs which you see upon my face told me that I had not escaped.What was I to do？I was in this lonely house.We had two servants whom we could utterly trust.There was a house where I could live.Under pledge of secrecy, Mr.Kent, who is a surgeon, was prepared to stay with me.It seemed simple enough on those lines.The alternative was a dreadful one—segregation for life among strangers with never a hope of release.But absolute secrecy was necessary, or even in this quiet countryside there would have been an outcry, and I should have been dragged to my horrible doom.Even you, Jimmie—even you had to be kept in the dark.Why my father hasrelented I cannot imagine.”

Colonel Emsworth pointed to me.

“This is the gentleman who forced my hand.”He unfolded the scrap of paper on which I had written the word“Leprosy.”“It seemed to me that if he knew so much as that it was safer that he should know all.”

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