The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle (novels for beginners .TXT) π
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- Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
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βI had gone into town on that day, but I returned by the 2.40 instead of the 3.36, which is my usual train. As I entered the house the maid ran into the hall with a startled face.
ββWhere is your mistress?β I asked.
ββI think that she has gone out for a walk,β she answered.
βMy mind was instantly filled with suspicion. I rushed upstairs to make sure that she was not in the house. As I did so I happened to glance out of one of the upper windows, and saw the maid with whom I had just been speaking running across the field in the direction of the cottage. Then of course I saw exactly what it all meant. My wife had gone over there, and had asked the servant to call her if I should return. Tingling with anger, I rushed down and hurried across, determined to end the matter once and forever. I saw my wife and the maid hurrying back along the lane, but I did not stop to speak with them. In the cottage lay the secret which was casting a shadow over my life. I vowed that, come what might, it should be a secret no longer. I did not even knock when I reached it, but turned the handle and rushed into the passage.
βIt was all still and quiet upon the ground floor. In the kitchen a kettle was singing on the fire, and a large black cat lay coiled up in the basket; but there was no sign of the woman whom I had seen before. I ran into the other room, but it was equally deserted. Then I rushed up the stairs, only to find two other rooms empty and deserted at the top. There was no one at all in the whole house. The furniture and pictures were of the most common and vulgar description, save in the one chamber at the window of which I had seen the strange face. That was comfortable and elegant, and all my suspicions rose into a fierce bitter flame when I saw that on the mantelpiece stood a copy of a full-length photograph of my wife, which had been taken at my request only three months ago.
βI stayed long enough to make certain that the house was absolutely empty. Then I left it, feeling a weight at my heart such as I had never had before. My wife came out into the hall as I entered my house; but I was too hurt and angry to speak with her, and pushing past her, I made my way into my study. She followed me, however, before I could close the door.
ββI am sorry that I broke my promise, Jack,β said she; βbut if you knew all the circumstances I am sure that you would forgive me.β
ββTell me everything, then,β said I.
ββI cannot, Jack, I cannot,β she cried.
ββUntil you tell me who it is that has been living in that cottage, and who it is to whom you have given that photograph, there can never be any confidence between us,β said I, and breaking away from her, I left the house. That was yesterday, Mr. Holmes, and I have not seen her since, nor do I know anything more about this strange business. It is the first shadow that has come between us, and it has so shaken me that I do not know what I should do for the best. Suddenly this morning it occurred to me that you were the man to advise me, so I have hurried to you now, and I place myself unreservedly in your hands. If there is any point which I have not made clear, pray question me about it. But, above all, tell me quickly what I am to do, for this misery is more than I can bear.β
Holmes and I had listened with the utmost interest to this extraordinary statement, which had been delivered in the jerky, broken fashion of a man who is under the influence of extreme emotions. My companion sat silent for some time, with his chin upon his hand, lost in thought.
βTell me,β said he at last, βcould you swear that this was a manβs face which you saw at the window?β
βEach time that I saw it I was some distance away from it, so that it is impossible for me to say.β
βYou appear, however, to have been disagreeably impressed by it.β
βIt seemed to be of an unnatural colour, and to have a strange rigidity about the features. When I approached, it vanished with a jerk.β
βHow long is it since your wife asked you for a hundred pounds?β
βNearly two months.β
βHave you ever seen a photograph of her first husband?β
βNo; there was a great fire at Atlanta very shortly after his death, and all her papers were destroyed.β
βAnd yet she had a certificate of death. You say that you saw it.β
βYes; she got a duplicate after the fire.β
βDid you ever meet any one who knew her in America?β
βNo.β
βDid she ever talk of revisiting the place?β
βNo.β
βOr get letters from it?β
βNo.β
βThank you. I should like to think over the matter a little now. If the cottage is now permanently deserted we may have some difficulty. If, on the other hand, as I fancy is more likely, the inmates were warned of your coming, and left before you entered yesterday, then they may be back now, and we should clear it all up easily. Let me advise you, then, to return to Norbury, and to examine the windows of the cottage again. If you have reason to believe that it is inhabited, do not force your way in, but send a wire to my friend and me. We shall be with you within an hour of receiving it, and we shall then very soon get to the bottom of the business.β
βAnd if it is still empty?β
βIn that case I shall come out to-morrow and talk it over with you. Good-by; and, above all, do not fret until you know that you really have a cause for it.β
βI am afraid that this is a bad business, Watson,β said my companion, as he returned after accompanying Mr. Grant Munro to the door. βWhat do you make of it?β
βIt had an ugly sound,β I answered.
βYes. Thereβs blackmail in it, or I am much mistaken.β
βAnd who is the blackmailer?β
βWell, it must be the creature who lives in the only comfortable room in the place, and has her photograph above his fireplace. Upon my word, Watson, there is something very attractive about that livid face at the
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