Sherlock Holmes: Before Baker Street by David Marcum (warren buffett book recommendations TXT) π
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- Author: David Marcum
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ββI hardly follow you,β said Musgrave. βThe paper seems to me to be of no practical importance.β
ββBut to me it seems immensely practical, and I fancy that Brunton took the same view. He had probably seen it before that night on which you caught him.β
ββIt is very possible. We took no pains to hide it.β
ββHe simply wished, I should imagine, to refresh his memory upon that last occasion. He had, as I understand, some sort of map or chart which he was comparing with the manuscript, and which he thrust into his pocket when you appeared.β
ββThat is true. But what could he have to do with this old family custom of ours, and what does this rigmarole mean?β
ββI donβt think that we should have much difficulty in determining that,β said I. βWith your permission we will take the first train down to Sussex, and go a little more deeply into the matter upon the spot.β
βThe same afternoon saw us both at Hurlstone. Possibly you have seen pictures and read descriptions of the famous old building, so I will confine my account of it to saying that it is built in the shape of an L, the long arm being the more modern portion, and the shorter the ancient nucleus, from which the other had developed. Over the low, heavily-lintelled door, in the centre of this old part, is chiseled the date, 1607, but experts are agreed that the beams and stone-work are really much older than this. The enormously thick walls and tiny windows of this part had in the last century driven the family into building the new wing, and the old one was used now as a store-house and a cellar, when it was used at all. A splendid park with fine old timber surrounds the house, and the lake, to which my client had referred, lay close to the avenue, about two-hundred yards from the building.
βI was already firmly convinced, Watson, that there were not three separate mysteries here, but one only, and that if I could read the Musgrave Ritual aright I should hold in my hand the clue which would lead me to the truth concerning both the butler Brunton and the maid Howells. To that then I turned all my energies. Why should this servant be so anxious to master this old formula? Evidently because he saw something in it which had escaped all those generations of country squires, and from which he expected some personal advantage. What was it then, and how had it affected his fate?
βIt was perfectly obvious to me, on reading the ritual, that the measurements must refer to some spot to which the rest of the document alluded, and that if we could find that spot, we should be in a fair way towards finding what the secret was which the old Musgraves had thought it necessary to embalm in so curious a fashion. There were two guides given us to start with, an oak and an elm. As to the oak there could be no question at all. Right in front of the house, upon the left-hand side of the drive, there stood a patriarch among oaks, one of the most magnificent trees that I have ever seen.
ββThat was there when you ritual was drawn up,β said I, as we drove past it.
ββIt was there at the Norman Conquest in all probability,β he answered. βIt has a girth of twenty-three feet.β
ββHave you any old elms?β I asked.
ββThere used to be a very old one over yonder but it was struck by lightning ten years ago, and we cut down the stump,β
ββYou can see where it used to be?β
ββOh, yes.β
ββThere are no other elms?β
βIt has a girth of twenty-three feet.β
ββNo old ones, but plenty of beeches.β
ββI should like to see where it grew.β
βWe had driven up in a dogcart, and my client led me away at once, without our entering the house, to the scar on the lawn where the elm had stood. It was nearly midway between the oak and the house. My investigation seemed to be progressing.
ββI suppose it is impossible to find out how high the elm was?β I asked.
ββI can give you it at once. It was sixty-four feet.β
ββHow do you come to know it?β I asked, in surprise.
ββWhen my old tutor used to give me an exercise in trigonometry, it always took the shape of measuring heights. When I was a lad I worked out every tree and building in the estate.β
βThis was an unexpected piece of luck. My data were coming more quickly than I could have reasonably hoped.
ββTell me,β I asked, βdid your butler ever ask you such a question?β
βReginald Musgrave looked at me in astonishment. βNow that you call it to my mind,β he answered, βBrunton did ask me about the height of the tree some months ago, in connection with some little argument with the groom.β
βThis was excellent news, Watson, for it showed me that I was on the right road. I looked up at the sun. It was low in the heavens, and I calculated that in less than an hour it would lie just above the topmost branches of the old oak. One condition mentioned in the Ritual would then be fulfilled. And the shadow of the elm must mean the farther end of the shadow, otherwise the trunk would have been chosen as the guide. I had, then, to find where the far end of the shadow would fall when the sun was just clear of the oak.β
βThat must have been difficult, Holmes, when the elm was no longer there.β
βWell, at least I knew that if Brunton could do it, I could also. Besides, there was no real
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