Reading Help The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Ch.I-IV
house which could account for such elaborate preparations, and `
` such an expenditure as they were at. It must, then, be something `
` out of the house. What could it be? I thought of the assistant's `
` fondness for photography, and his trick of vanishing into the `
` cellar. The cellar! There was the end of this tangled clue. Then `
` I made inquiries as to this mysterious assistant and found that I `
` had to deal with one of the coolest and most daring criminals in `
` London. He was doing something in the cellar--something which `
` took many hours a day for months on end. What could it be, once `
` more? I could think of nothing save that he was running a tunnel `
` to some other building. `
` `
` "So far I had got when we went to visit the scene of action. I `
` surprised you by beating upon the pavement with my stick. I was `
` ascertaining whether the cellar stretched out in front or behind. `
` It was not in front. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, the `
` assistant answered it. We have had some skirmishes, but we had `
` never set eyes upon each other before. I hardly looked at his `
` face. His knees were what I wished to see. You must yourself have `
` remarked how worn, wrinkled, and stained they were. They spoke of `
` those hours of burrowing. The only remaining point was what they `
` were burrowing for. I walked round the corner, saw the City and `
` Suburban Bank abutted on our friend's premises, and felt that I `
` had solved my problem. When you drove home after the concert I `
` called upon Scotland Yard and upon the chairman of the bank `
` directors, with the result that you have seen." `
` `
` "And how could you tell that they would make their attempt `
` to-night?" I asked. `
` `
` "Well, when they closed their League offices that was a sign that `
` they cared no longer about Mr. Jabez Wilson's presence--in other `
` words, that they had completed their tunnel. But it was essential `
` that they should use it soon, as it might be discovered, or the `
` bullion might be removed. Saturday would suit them better than `
` any other day, as it would give them two days for their escape. `
` For all these reasons I expected them to come to-night." `
` `
` "You reasoned it out beautifully," I exclaimed in unfeigned `
` admiration. "It is so long a chain, and yet every link rings `
` true." `
` `
` "It saved me from ennui," he answered, yawning. "Alas! I already `
` feel it closing in upon me. My life is spent in one long effort `
` to escape from the commonplaces of existence. These little `
` problems help me to do so." `
` `
` "And you are a benefactor of the race," said I. `
` `
` He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, perhaps, after all, it is of `
` some little use," he remarked. "'L'homme c'est rien--l'oeuvre `
` c'est tout,' as Gustave Flaubert wrote to George Sand." `
` `
` `
` `
` ADVENTURE III. A CASE OF IDENTITY `
` `
` "My dear fellow," said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side `
` of the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, "life is infinitely `
` stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We `
` would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere `
` commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window `
` hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the `
` roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the `
` strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the `
` wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and `
` leading to the most outr� results, it would make all fiction with `
` its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and `
` unprofitable." `
` `
` "And yet I am not convinced of it," I answered. "The cases which `
` come to light in the papers are, as a rule, bald enough, and `
` vulgar enough. We have in our police reports realism pushed to `
` its extreme limits, and yet the result is, it must be confessed, `
` neither fascinating nor artistic." `
` `
` "A certain selection and discretion must be used in producing a `
` realistic effect," remarked Holmes. "This is wanting in the `
` police report, where more stress is laid, perhaps, upon the `
` platitudes of the magistrate than upon the details, which to an `
` observer contain the vital essence of the whole matter. Depend `
` upon it, there is nothing so unnatural as the commonplace." `
` `
` I smiled and shook my head. "I can quite understand your thinking `
` so." I said. "Of course, in your position of unofficial adviser `
` and helper to everybody who is absolutely puzzled, throughout `
` three continents, you are brought in contact with all that is `
` strange and bizarre. But here"--I picked up the morning paper `
` from the ground--"let us put it to a practical test. Here is the `
` first heading upon which I come. 'A husband's cruelty to his `
` wife.' There is half a column of print, but I know without `
` reading it that it is all perfectly familiar to me. There is, of `
` course, the other woman, the drink, the push, the blow, the `
` bruise, the sympathetic sister or landlady. The crudest of `
` writers could invent nothing more crude." `
` `
` "Indeed, your example is an unfortunate one for your argument," `
` said Holmes, taking the paper and glancing his eye down it. "This `
` is the Dundas separation case, and, as it happens, I was engaged `
` in clearing up some small points in connection with it. The `
` husband was a teetotaler, there was no other woman, and the `
` conduct complained of was that he had drifted into the habit of `
` winding up every meal by taking out his false teeth and hurling `
` them at his wife, which, you will allow, is not an action likely `
` to occur to the imagination of the average story-teller. Take a `
` pinch of snuff, Doctor, and acknowledge that I have scored over `
` you in your example." `
` `
` He held out his snuffbox of old gold, with a great amethyst in `
` the centre of the lid. Its splendour was in such contrast to his `
` homely ways and simple life that I could not help commenting upon `
` it. `
` `
` "Ah," said he, "I forgot that I had not seen you for some weeks. `
` It is a little souvenir from the King of Bohemia in return for my `
` assistance in the case of the Irene Adler papers." `
` `
` "And the ring?" I asked, glancing at a remarkable brilliant which `
` sparkled upon his finger. `
` `
` "It was from the reigning family of Holland, though the matter in `
` which I served them was of such delicacy that I cannot confide it `
` even to you, who have been good enough to chronicle one or two of `
` my little problems." `
` `
` "And have you any on hand just now?" I asked with interest. `
` `
` "Some ten or twelve, but none which present any feature of `
` interest. They are important, you understand, without being `
` interesting. Indeed, I have found that it is usually in `
` unimportant matters that there is a field for the observation, `
` and for the quick analysis of cause and effect which gives the `
` charm to an investigation. The larger crimes are apt to be the `
` simpler, for the bigger the crime the more obvious, as a rule, is `
` the motive. In these cases, save for one rather intricate matter `
` which has been referred to me from Marseilles, there is nothing `
` which presents any features of interest. It is possible, however, `
` that I may have something better before very many minutes are `
` over, for this is one of my clients, or I am much mistaken." `
` `
` He had risen from his chair and was standing between the parted `
` blinds gazing down into the dull neutral-tinted London street. `
` Looking over his shoulder, I saw that on the pavement opposite `
` there stood a large woman with a heavy fur boa round her neck, `
` and a large curling red feather in a broad-brimmed hat which was `
` tilted in a coquettish Duchess of Devonshire fashion over her `
` ear. From under this great panoply she peeped up in a nervous, `
` hesitating fashion at our windows, while her body oscillated `
` backward and forward, and her fingers fidgeted with her glove `
` buttons. Suddenly, with a plunge, as of the swimmer who leaves `
` the bank, she hurried across the road, and we heard the sharp `
` clang of the bell. `
` `
` "I have seen those symptoms before," said Holmes, throwing his `
` cigarette into the fire. "Oscillation upon the pavement always `
` means an affaire de coeur. She would like advice, but is not sure `
` that the matter is not too delicate for communication. And yet `
` even here we may discriminate. When a woman has been seriously `
` wronged by a man she no longer oscillates, and the usual symptom `
` is a broken bell wire. Here we may take it that there is a love `
` matter, but that the maiden is not so much angry as perplexed, or `
` grieved. But here she comes in person to resolve our doubts." `
` `
` As he spoke there was a tap at the door, and the boy in buttons `
` entered to announce Miss Mary Sutherland, while the lady herself `
` loomed behind his small black figure like a full-sailed `
` merchant-man behind a tiny pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed `
` her with the easy courtesy for which he was remarkable, and, `
` having closed the door and bowed her into an armchair, he looked `
` her over in the minute and yet abstracted fashion which was `
` peculiar to him. `
` `
` "Do you not find," he said, "that with your short sight it is a `
` little trying to do so much typewriting?" `
` `
` "I did at first," she answered, "but now I know where the letters `
` are without looking." Then, suddenly realising the full purport `
` of his words, she gave a violent start and looked up, with fear `
` and astonishment upon her broad, good-humoured face. "You've `
` heard about me, Mr. Holmes," she cried, "else how could you know `
` all that?" `
` `
` "Never mind," said Holmes, laughing; "it is my business to know `
` things. Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others `
` overlook. If not, why should you come to consult me?" `
` `
` "I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from Mrs. Etherege, `
` whose husband you found so easy when the police and everyone had `
` given him up for dead. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I wish you would do as `
` much for me. I'm not rich, but still I have a hundred a year in `
` my own right, besides the little that I make by the machine, and `
` I would give it all to know what has become of Mr. Hosmer Angel." `
` `
` "Why did you come away to consult me in such a hurry?" asked `
` Sherlock Holmes, with his finger-tips together and his eyes to `
` the ceiling. `
` `
` Again a startled look came over the somewhat vacuous face of Miss `
` Mary Sutherland. "Yes, I did bang out of the house," she said, `
` "for it made me angry to see the easy way in which Mr. `
` Windibank--that is, my father--took it all. He would not go to `
`
` such an expenditure as they were at. It must, then, be something `
` out of the house. What could it be? I thought of the assistant's `
` fondness for photography, and his trick of vanishing into the `
` cellar. The cellar! There was the end of this tangled clue. Then `
` I made inquiries as to this mysterious assistant and found that I `
` had to deal with one of the coolest and most daring criminals in `
` London. He was doing something in the cellar--something which `
` took many hours a day for months on end. What could it be, once `
` more? I could think of nothing save that he was running a tunnel `
` to some other building. `
` `
` "So far I had got when we went to visit the scene of action. I `
` surprised you by beating upon the pavement with my stick. I was `
` ascertaining whether the cellar stretched out in front or behind. `
` It was not in front. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, the `
` assistant answered it. We have had some skirmishes, but we had `
` never set eyes upon each other before. I hardly looked at his `
` face. His knees were what I wished to see. You must yourself have `
` remarked how worn, wrinkled, and stained they were. They spoke of `
` those hours of burrowing. The only remaining point was what they `
` were burrowing for. I walked round the corner, saw the City and `
` Suburban Bank abutted on our friend's premises, and felt that I `
` had solved my problem. When you drove home after the concert I `
` called upon Scotland Yard and upon the chairman of the bank `
` directors, with the result that you have seen." `
` `
` "And how could you tell that they would make their attempt `
` to-night?" I asked. `
` `
` "Well, when they closed their League offices that was a sign that `
` they cared no longer about Mr. Jabez Wilson's presence--in other `
` words, that they had completed their tunnel. But it was essential `
` that they should use it soon, as it might be discovered, or the `
` bullion might be removed. Saturday would suit them better than `
` any other day, as it would give them two days for their escape. `
` For all these reasons I expected them to come to-night." `
` `
` "You reasoned it out beautifully," I exclaimed in unfeigned `
` admiration. "It is so long a chain, and yet every link rings `
` true." `
` `
` "It saved me from ennui," he answered, yawning. "Alas! I already `
` feel it closing in upon me. My life is spent in one long effort `
` to escape from the commonplaces of existence. These little `
` problems help me to do so." `
` `
` "And you are a benefactor of the race," said I. `
` `
` He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, perhaps, after all, it is of `
` some little use," he remarked. "'L'homme c'est rien--l'oeuvre `
` c'est tout,' as Gustave Flaubert wrote to George Sand." `
` `
` `
` `
` ADVENTURE III. A CASE OF IDENTITY `
` `
` "My dear fellow," said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side `
` of the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, "life is infinitely `
` stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We `
` would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere `
` commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window `
` hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the `
` roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the `
` strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the `
` wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and `
` leading to the most outr� results, it would make all fiction with `
` its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and `
` unprofitable." `
` `
` "And yet I am not convinced of it," I answered. "The cases which `
` come to light in the papers are, as a rule, bald enough, and `
` vulgar enough. We have in our police reports realism pushed to `
` its extreme limits, and yet the result is, it must be confessed, `
` neither fascinating nor artistic." `
` `
` "A certain selection and discretion must be used in producing a `
` realistic effect," remarked Holmes. "This is wanting in the `
` police report, where more stress is laid, perhaps, upon the `
` platitudes of the magistrate than upon the details, which to an `
` observer contain the vital essence of the whole matter. Depend `
` upon it, there is nothing so unnatural as the commonplace." `
` `
` I smiled and shook my head. "I can quite understand your thinking `
` so." I said. "Of course, in your position of unofficial adviser `
` and helper to everybody who is absolutely puzzled, throughout `
` three continents, you are brought in contact with all that is `
` strange and bizarre. But here"--I picked up the morning paper `
` from the ground--"let us put it to a practical test. Here is the `
` first heading upon which I come. 'A husband's cruelty to his `
` wife.' There is half a column of print, but I know without `
` reading it that it is all perfectly familiar to me. There is, of `
` course, the other woman, the drink, the push, the blow, the `
` bruise, the sympathetic sister or landlady. The crudest of `
` writers could invent nothing more crude." `
` `
` "Indeed, your example is an unfortunate one for your argument," `
` said Holmes, taking the paper and glancing his eye down it. "This `
` is the Dundas separation case, and, as it happens, I was engaged `
` in clearing up some small points in connection with it. The `
` husband was a teetotaler, there was no other woman, and the `
` conduct complained of was that he had drifted into the habit of `
` winding up every meal by taking out his false teeth and hurling `
` them at his wife, which, you will allow, is not an action likely `
` to occur to the imagination of the average story-teller. Take a `
` pinch of snuff, Doctor, and acknowledge that I have scored over `
` you in your example." `
` `
` He held out his snuffbox of old gold, with a great amethyst in `
` the centre of the lid. Its splendour was in such contrast to his `
` homely ways and simple life that I could not help commenting upon `
` it. `
` `
` "Ah," said he, "I forgot that I had not seen you for some weeks. `
` It is a little souvenir from the King of Bohemia in return for my `
` assistance in the case of the Irene Adler papers." `
` `
` "And the ring?" I asked, glancing at a remarkable brilliant which `
` sparkled upon his finger. `
` `
` "It was from the reigning family of Holland, though the matter in `
` which I served them was of such delicacy that I cannot confide it `
` even to you, who have been good enough to chronicle one or two of `
` my little problems." `
` `
` "And have you any on hand just now?" I asked with interest. `
` `
` "Some ten or twelve, but none which present any feature of `
` interest. They are important, you understand, without being `
` interesting. Indeed, I have found that it is usually in `
` unimportant matters that there is a field for the observation, `
` and for the quick analysis of cause and effect which gives the `
` charm to an investigation. The larger crimes are apt to be the `
` simpler, for the bigger the crime the more obvious, as a rule, is `
` the motive. In these cases, save for one rather intricate matter `
` which has been referred to me from Marseilles, there is nothing `
` which presents any features of interest. It is possible, however, `
` that I may have something better before very many minutes are `
` over, for this is one of my clients, or I am much mistaken." `
` `
` He had risen from his chair and was standing between the parted `
` blinds gazing down into the dull neutral-tinted London street. `
` Looking over his shoulder, I saw that on the pavement opposite `
` there stood a large woman with a heavy fur boa round her neck, `
` and a large curling red feather in a broad-brimmed hat which was `
` tilted in a coquettish Duchess of Devonshire fashion over her `
` ear. From under this great panoply she peeped up in a nervous, `
` hesitating fashion at our windows, while her body oscillated `
` backward and forward, and her fingers fidgeted with her glove `
` buttons. Suddenly, with a plunge, as of the swimmer who leaves `
` the bank, she hurried across the road, and we heard the sharp `
` clang of the bell. `
` `
` "I have seen those symptoms before," said Holmes, throwing his `
` cigarette into the fire. "Oscillation upon the pavement always `
` means an affaire de coeur. She would like advice, but is not sure `
` that the matter is not too delicate for communication. And yet `
` even here we may discriminate. When a woman has been seriously `
` wronged by a man she no longer oscillates, and the usual symptom `
` is a broken bell wire. Here we may take it that there is a love `
` matter, but that the maiden is not so much angry as perplexed, or `
` grieved. But here she comes in person to resolve our doubts." `
` `
` As he spoke there was a tap at the door, and the boy in buttons `
` entered to announce Miss Mary Sutherland, while the lady herself `
` loomed behind his small black figure like a full-sailed `
` merchant-man behind a tiny pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed `
` her with the easy courtesy for which he was remarkable, and, `
` having closed the door and bowed her into an armchair, he looked `
` her over in the minute and yet abstracted fashion which was `
` peculiar to him. `
` `
` "Do you not find," he said, "that with your short sight it is a `
` little trying to do so much typewriting?" `
` `
` "I did at first," she answered, "but now I know where the letters `
` are without looking." Then, suddenly realising the full purport `
` of his words, she gave a violent start and looked up, with fear `
` and astonishment upon her broad, good-humoured face. "You've `
` heard about me, Mr. Holmes," she cried, "else how could you know `
` all that?" `
` `
` "Never mind," said Holmes, laughing; "it is my business to know `
` things. Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others `
` overlook. If not, why should you come to consult me?" `
` `
` "I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from Mrs. Etherege, `
` whose husband you found so easy when the police and everyone had `
` given him up for dead. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I wish you would do as `
` much for me. I'm not rich, but still I have a hundred a year in `
` my own right, besides the little that I make by the machine, and `
` I would give it all to know what has become of Mr. Hosmer Angel." `
` `
` "Why did you come away to consult me in such a hurry?" asked `
` Sherlock Holmes, with his finger-tips together and his eyes to `
` the ceiling. `
` `
` Again a startled look came over the somewhat vacuous face of Miss `
` Mary Sutherland. "Yes, I did bang out of the house," she said, `
` "for it made me angry to see the easy way in which Mr. `
` Windibank--that is, my father--took it all. He would not go to `
`