2020-08-08 08:27:05  来源:人民网-人民日报海外版


推荐一款捕鱼游戏【址:a g 9 559⒐ v i p】<  conclusively that death was due to apoplexy. You see it was quite asimple case, after all."   We sat in silence for some time after the unhappy woman had told herstory. Then Holmes stretched out his long arm and patted her hand withsuch a show of sympathy as I had seldom known him to exhibit."Poor girl!" he said. "Poor girl! The ways of fate are indeed hardto understand. If there is not some compensation hereafter, then theworld is a cruel jest. But what of this man Leonardo?"

    "Well, as you seem to have made the discovery, whatever it may be,and the vicar to have had it second-hand, perhaps you had better dothe speaking," said Holmes.

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   "'Ah!' cried Mr. Trevor. 'You know where Mr. Beddoes is?'"Bless you, sir, I know where all my old friends are,' said thefellow with a sinister smile, and he slouched off after the maid tothe kitchen. Mr. Trevor mumbled something to us about having beenshipmate with the man when he was going back to the diggings, andthen, leaving us on the lawn, he went indoors. An hour later, whenwe entered the house, we found him stretched dead drunk upon thedining-room sofa. The whole incident left a most ugly impressionupon my mind, and I was not sorry next day to leave Donnithorpe behindme, for I felt that my presence must be a source of embarrassment tomy friend.

    "Did the men leave no clue?"

    "But what does it all mean?" I asked.

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   "'I should be happy to advance it without further parley from my ownprivate purse,' said I, 'were it not that the strain would be rathermore than it could bear. If, on the other hand, I am to do it in thename of the firm, then in justice to my partner I must insist thateven in your case, every businesslike precaution should be taken.'"'I should much prefer to have it so,' said he, raising up a square,black morocco case which he had laid beside his chair. 'You havedoubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?'<  She drew a large silver locket from her bosom. "You have neverseen this open."

    "Exactly. There was evidently some mark, some thumbprint,something which might give a clue to the person's identity. Now,Mrs. Warren, you say that the man was of middle size, dark, andbearded. What age would he be?"

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   "Yes, sir."

    "I've got my facts pretty clear," said Stanley Hopkins. "All Iwant now is to know what they all mean. The story, so far as I canmake it out, is like this. Some years ago this country house, YoxleyOld Place, was taken by an elderly man, who gave the name of ProfessorCoram. He was an invalid, keeping his bed half the time, and the otherhalf hobbling round the house with a stick or being pushed about thegrounds by the gardener in a Bath chair. He was well liked by thefew neighbours who called upon him, and he has the reputation downthere of being a very learned man. His household used to consist of anelderly housekeeper, Mrs. Marker, and of a maid, Susan Tarlton.These have both been with him since his arrival, and they seem to bewomen of excellent character. The professor is writing a learned book,and he found it necessary, about a year ago, to engage a secretary.The first two that he tried were not successes, but the third, Mr.Willoughby Smith, a very young man straight from the university, seemsto have been just what his employer wanted. His work consisted inwriting all the morning to the professor's dictation, and he usuallyspent the evening in hunting up references and passages which boreupon the next day's work. This Willoughby Smith has nothing againsthim, either as a boy at Uppingham or as a young man at Cambridge. Ihave seen his testimonials, and from the first he was a decent, quiet,hard-worlding fellow, with no weak spot in him at all. And yet this isthe lad who has met his death this morning in the professor's studyunder circumstances which can point only to murder."

<  "I have often had the same idea. Does it matter very much? Afterall, Count, your own exit is more likely to be perpendicular thanhorizontal. But these anticipations of the future are morbid. Whynot give ourselves up to the unrestrained enjoyment of the present?"A sudden wild-beast light sprang up in the dark, menacing eyes ofthe master criminal. Holmes's figure seemed to grow taller as hegrew tense and ready.   "I never heard the name," said I.

    "I learned it when I had recovered my health and was examined by Mr.Edmunds, the county detective. I fear I lied to him. Perhaps itwould have been wiser had I told the truth."


<  But we had not a very long time to wait for that. It came just as webad finished our tea.   Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily."Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar Square fountain?" he asked."Why? What do you mean?"

    "It is no reflection upon your professional knowledge," said he,"for I believe that, save for one sample in a laboratory at Buda,there is no other specimen in Europe. It has not yet found its wayeither into the pharmacopoeia or into the literature of toxicology.The root is shaped like a foot, half human, half goatlike; hence thefanciful name given by a botanical missionary. It is used as an ordealpoison by the medicine-men in certain districts of West Africa andis kept as a secret among them. This particular specimen I obtainedunder very extraordinary circumstances in the Ubangi country." Heopened the paper as he spoke and disclosed a heap of reddish-brown,snuff-like powder.





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