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孤身骑车人 The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist
从一四年到一九○一年期间，歇洛克·福尔摩斯先生异常繁忙。完全可以说，这八年来各种公办的疑难著名案件，没有一件不请教福尔摩斯的。还有千百件私人案件，其中许多是十分错综复杂并具有特色的，福尔摩斯也在其中起了重要作用。许多惊人的成就和一些不可避免的失败是这一漫长时期连续工作的结果。由于我对这些案件有闻必录，其中的许多案件我自己也亲身参加过，可以想象，要弄清我应该选择哪些来公之于众，这不是一件容易的事。然而，我可以按照我从前的作法，优先选择那些不是以犯罪的凶残著称，而是以结案的巧妙和戏剧性而引人入胜的案件。由于这个原因，我就选择了有关维奥莱特·史密斯小姐，查林顿的孤身骑车人一事，以及我们调查到的奇异结局，这个结局以出人意料的悲剧而告终。现在我就把情况介绍给读者。诚然，这些事对我朋友那因以扬名的才能并没有增添什么异彩，可是这件案子却有几点非常突出，不同于我从中收集资料写成了这些小故事的那些长期犯罪记录。
我翻阅了一五年的笔记，查出是四月二十三日，星期六，我们第一次听维奥莱特·史密斯谈自己的事。我记得福尔摩斯对她的来访极不欢迎，因为那时他正全神贯注于一件十分难解的错综复杂的问题，这个问题涉及著名的烟草大王约翰·文森特·哈登所遭遇的特殊难题。我的朋友最喜欢的事就是准确和思想集中，在办手头的事情时，最厌烦别的事来打扰他。尽管如此，但他生性并不固执生硬，不可能拒绝那位身材苗条、仪态万方、神色庄重的美貌姑娘来讲述她的遭遇，何况她又是在这么晚的晚上亲自来贝克街恳请他帮助和指点的。尽管福尔摩斯声明时间已经排满，但也无济于事，因为那姑娘下定决心非讲不可。很明显，她不达到目的，要想使她离开除非动武。福尔摩斯显出无可奈何的神色，勉强地笑了笑，请那位美丽的不速之客坐下，把她遇到的麻烦事如实地讲给我们听。
“至少不会是一件有碍你身体健康的事，"福尔摩斯用那双敏锐的眼睛把她周身打量了一番说道，“象你这样爱骑车的人，一定是精力充沛的。”
她惊异地看看自己的双脚，我也发现了她鞋底一边被脚蹬子边缘磨得起毛了。
“是的，我经常骑自行车，福尔摩斯先生，我今天来拜访你，正是和骑车的事情有关系呢。”
我的朋友拿起这姑娘没戴手套的那只手，象科学家看标本那样，全神贯注而不动声色地检查着。
“我相信，你会原谅我的。这是我的业务，"福尔摩斯把姑娘的手放下，说道，"我几乎错把你当成打字员了。显而易见，你当然是一位音乐家。华生，你注意到那两种职业所共有的勺形指端吗？不过，她脸上有一种风采，"那女子平静地把脸转向亮处，"那是打字员所不具备的。所以，这位女士是音乐家。”
“是的，福尔摩斯先生，我教音乐。”
“从你的脸色来看，我想你是在乡下教音乐。”
“是的，先生，靠近法纳姆，在萨里边界。”
“是一个好地方，可以使人联想到许多有趣的事情。华生，你一定记得我们就是在那附近拿获了伪造货币犯阿尔奇·斯坦福德。嗯，维奥莱特小姐，靠近法纳姆，在萨里边界，你遇到什么事了？”
那位姑娘十分清楚明白、镇静自若地说出下面这一段古怪离奇的事情来：
“福尔摩斯先生，我父亲已经去世了。他叫詹姆斯·史密斯，是老帝国剧院的乐队指挥。我和母亲在世上举目无亲，我只有一个叔父，他名叫拉尔夫·史密斯，于二十五年前到非洲去了，从那时期音信全无。父亲死后，我们一譬如洗，可是有一天人家告诉我们，《泰晤士报》登了一则广告，询问我们的下落。你可以想象我们是多么激动啊，因为我们想这是有人给我们留下遗产了。我们立即按报上登的姓名去找那位律师，在那里又遇到了两位先生，卡拉瑟斯和伍德利，他们是从南非回来探家的。他们说我叔父是他们的朋友，几个月以前在十分贫困中死于约翰内斯堡。我叔父临终之前，请他们去找他的亲属，并务必使他的亲属不至穷困潦倒。这似乎使我们很奇怪，我叔父拉尔夫活着的时候，并不关心我们，而在他死时却那么精心关照我们。可是卡拉瑟斯先生解释说，因为我叔父刚刚听到他哥哥的死讯，所以感到对我们的命运负有重大责任。”
“请原谅，"福尔摩斯说道，"你们是什么时候见面的？”
“去年十二月，已有四个月了。”
“请继续讲下去吧。”
“我看伍德利先生讨厌得很，他是一个面孔虚胖、一脸红胡子的粗暴的青年，头发披散在额头两边，总是向我挤眉弄眼。我认为他十分可憎，我相信西里尔一定不乐意我认识这个人。”
“噢，西里尔是他的名字！"福尔摩斯笑容满面地说道。
那姑娘满面通红，笑了笑。
“是的，福尔摩斯先生，西里尔·莫顿，是一个电气工程师，我们希望在夏末结婚。哎呀，我怎么扯其他来了呢？我想说伍德利先生十分讨厌，而那位年纪老些的卡拉瑟斯先生可比较有礼貌。虽然他脸色土黄，脸刮得光光的，沉默寡言，但举止文雅，笑容可掬。他询问了我们的境况，发现我们很穷困，便要我到他那里教他那十岁的独生女儿。我说我不愿离开母亲，他说我可以在每周末回家去看她。他答应给我每年一百镑，这当然是十分优厚的酬金了。所以最后我答应了，来到离法纳姆六英里左右的奇尔特恩农庄。卡拉瑟斯先生丧妻鳏居，他雇用了一个叫狄克逊太太的女管家来照料家事，这位老妇人老成持重，令人品敬。那个孩子也很可爱，一切也都如意。卡拉瑟斯先生十分和善，热衷于音乐，我们晚上在一起过得很高兴，每逢周末我回城里家中看望母亲。
“在我的快乐生活中，头一件不顺心的事就是一脸红胡子的伍德利先生的到来。他来访一个星期，哎呀！对我来说简直如同三个月。他是一个可怕的人，对别人横行霸道，对我更肆无忌惮。他作了许多丑态表示爱我，吹嘘他的财富，说如果我嫁给他，我就可以得到伦敦最漂亮的钻石。最后，当我始终对他不加理睬时，有一天饭后他抓住我把我抱在怀里——他有可恶的牛劲——发誓说如果我不吻他，他就不放手。这时正好卡拉瑟斯先生进屋，把他从我身边拉开。为了这事，伍德利和东道主翻了脸，把卡拉瑟斯在地，脸上弄出个大口子。伍德利的来访至此结束，第二天卡拉瑟斯先生向我道歉，并保证绝不让我再受这样的。从那以后我再没见到伍德利先生。
“现在，福尔摩斯先生，我终于谈到今天来向你请教的具体事情上了。你一定知道，我每星期六上午骑车到法纳姆车站，赶十二点二十二分的火车进城。我从奇尔特恩农庄出来，那条路很偏僻，有一段尤其荒凉，这一段有一英里多长，一边是查林顿石南灌木地带，另一边是查林顿庄园外圈的树林。你再也找不到比这段路更荒凉的地方了。在你没有到达靠近克鲁克斯伯里山公路以前，极难遇到一辆马车、一个农民。两星期以前，我从这地方经过，偶然回头一望，见身后两百码左右有个男人在骑车，看起来是个中年人，蓄着短短的黑胡子。在到法纳姆以前，我又回头一看，那人已经消失，所以我也没再想这件事。不过，福尔摩斯先生，我星期一返回时又在那段路上看到那个人。你可想而知我该多么惊奇了。而下一个星期六和星期一，又和上次丝毫不差，这事又重演了一遍，我愈发惊异不止了。那个人始终保持一定距离，决不打扰我，不过这毕竟十分古怪。我把这事告诉了卡拉瑟斯先生，他看来十分重视我说的事，告诉我他已经订购了一骑马和一辆轻便马车，所以将来我再过那段偏僻道路时，不愁没有伴侣了。
“马和轻便马车本来应该在这个星期就到，可不知什么原因，卖主没有交货，我只好还是骑车到火车站。这是今天早晨的事。我来到查林顿石南灌木地带，向远处一看，一点也不错，那人就在那地方，和两个星期以前一模一样。他总是离我很远，我看不清他的脸，但肯定不是我认识的人。他穿一身黑衣服，戴布帽。我只能看清他脸上的黑胡子。今天我不害怕了，而是满腹疑团，我决心查明他是什么人，要干什么事。我放慢了我的车速，他也放慢了他的车速。后来我停车不骑了，他也停车不骑了。于是我心生一计来对付他。路上有一处急转弯，我便紧蹬一阵拐过弯去，然后停车等候他。我指望他很快拐过弯来，并且来不及停车，超到我前面去。但他根本没露面。我便返回去，向转弯处四处张望。我可以望见一英里的路程，可是路上不见他的踪影。尤其令人惊异的是，这地方并没有岔路，他是无法走开的。”
福尔摩斯轻声一笑，搓着双手。"这件事确实有它的特色，"他说道，"从你转过弯去到你发现路上无人，这中间有多久？”
“二、三分钟吧。”
“那他来不及从原路退走，你说那里没有岔路吗？”
“没有。”
“那他肯定是从路旁人行小径走开的。”
“不可能从石南灌木地段那一侧，不然我早就看到他了。”
“那么，按照排除推理法，我们就查明了一个事实，他向查林顿庄园那一侧去了，据我所知，查林顿庄园宅基就在大路一侧。还有其它情况吗？”
“没有了，福尔摩斯先生，只是我十分惶惑莫解，感到极不愉快，所以才来见你，求得你的指点。”
福尔摩斯默默不语地坐了一会儿。
“和你订婚的那位先生在什么地方？"福尔摩斯终于问道。
“他在考文垂的米得兰电气公司。”
“他不会出其不意地来看你吧？”
“噢，福尔摩斯先生！难道我还不认识他！”
“还有其他爱慕你的男人吗？”
“在我认识西里尔以前有过几个。”
“从那时以后呢？”
“假如你把伍德利也算做一个爱慕我的人的话，那就是那个可怕的人了。”
“没有别的人了吗？”
我们那位美丽的委托人似乎有点为难。
“他是谁呢？"福尔摩斯问道。
“噢，可能纯粹是我胡思乱想；可是有时我似乎觉得我的雇主卡拉瑟斯先生对我十分有意。我们经常相遇，晚上我给他伴奏，他从来没说过什么。他是一位很好的先生，可是一个姑娘总是心里明白的。”
“哈！"福尔摩斯显得十分严肃，"他以什么为生呢？”
“他是一个富有的人。”
“他没有四轮马车或者马匹吗？”
“啊，至少他生活相当富裕。他每星期进城两三次，十分关心南非的黄金股票。”
“史密斯小姐，你要把新发现的一切情况告诉我。现在我很忙，不过我一定抽时间来查办你这件案子。在这期间，不要没通知我就采取行动。再见，我相信我们会得到你的好消息。”
“这样的一位姑娘会有一些追求者，这是很自然的，"福尔摩斯沉思地抽着烟斗说道，“不过不要选偏僻村路骑自行车去追逐嘛。毫无疑问是一个偷偷爱上她的人。可是这件案子里有一些颇为奇怪和引人深思的细节，华生。”
“你是说他竟然只在那个地方出现吗？”
“不错。我们要做的第一件事就是查明谁租用了查林顿庄园。然后再查明卡拉瑟斯和伍德利究竟是什么关系，因为他俩是完全不同类型的人啊。他俩为什么急于查访拉尔夫·史密斯的亲属呢？还有一点，卡拉瑟斯家离车站六英里远，连一骑马都不买，却偏偏要出两倍代价来雇一名家庭女教师，这是一种什么样的治家之道呢？奇怪，华生，十分奇怪！”
“你下去调查吗？”
“不，我亲爱的朋友，你下去调查好了。这可能是一件无足挂齿的小阴谋，我不能为它中断别的重大调查工作。星期一你一早到法纳姆去，要隐藏在查林顿石南地带附近，亲自观察这些事实。根据自己的判断见机行事，然后，查明是谁住在查林顿庄园，回来向我报告。现在，华生，在弄到几件可靠的证据，有希望用于结案前，我对这件事没有别的话好讲的了。”
那姑娘告诉我们她星期一九点五十分从滑铁卢车站乘车出发，所以我便提早出发赶乘九点十三分的火车。到法纳姆车站，我毫不费力地问明了查林顿地带。要错过那姑娘的遇险地带是不可能的，因为那段路一边是开阔的石南灌木地带，另一边是老紫杉树篱，环绕着一座花园，花园里巨树参天。庄园有个长满地衣的石子路，大门两侧的石柱上满是破烂的纹章图案。除了中间行车的石子路之外，我发现几处树篱有豁口，有小路穿入。从路上看不到宅院，四周的环境都显得阴暗、衰颓。
石南地带开满一丛丛的黄色金雀花，在灿烂的春日骄阳下闪闪发光。我在灌木丛后选好隐身之处，以便既能观察庄园大门，又能看到两边长长的一大段路。我离开大路时，路上空无一人，现在有个人品着车从对面向我来的方向奔去。他穿着黑色服装，我见他蓄有黑胡子。他来到查林顿宅地尽头，跳下车来，把车推进树篱的一处豁口，在我的视线中消失了。
过了一刻钟，第二个骑自行车的人出现了。这次是那位姑娘从火车站来。我见她骑到查林顿树篱时四下张望。过了一会儿，那男人从藏身处走出来，跳上自行车，尾随着她。在那辽阔的如画风景中，只有这两个人影在活动。那位仪态端庄的姑娘笔直地A骑在车上，她身后的男人却低伏在车把上，一举一动都带有莫名其妙的鬼鬼祟祟的形迹。她回头看到他，便放慢了速度。他也放慢了速度。姑娘下了车，他也立即下车，在她身后有二百码的距离。那姑娘的下一步动作却是出奇不意地迅猛，她突然扭转车头紧蹬一阵，径直向他冲了过去。然而，他也象那姑娘一样迅速，不顾一切拼命地逃脱了。她又立刻返回大路，傲然地昂着头，不屑再去置理那不声不响的尾随者了。他也转过身来，依然保持着那段距离，直到转过大路我看不到他们为止。
我依然呆在藏身之处，这样作是很恰当的，因为那个男人马上又露面了，他不慌不忙地骑车返回来。他拐进庄园大门，下了车。我看他在树丛中站了几分钟，举起双手，似乎在整理他的领带。然后又上车从我身旁经过，向对着庄园的车道骑去。我跑出石南灌木地带，从树林缝隙望过去，可以隐约看到远处那座古老的灰楼和它那些矗立的都铎式烟囱，可惜那条车道穿过一片浓密的灌木丛，我再也看不到那个人了。
不过，我看我已经作了一件漂亮事，便兴致勃勃地徒步走回法纳姆。关于查林顿庄园，当地房产经纪人什么也说不出来，只好把我介绍到帕尔马尔的一家著名的公司。我在回家途中到那里停留了一阵，受到经纪人的殷勤接待。不行，我不能租用查林顿庄园避暑了，我来得太晚了，庄园一个月以前已经租出去，租给了一个叫威廉森先生的人。他是一个体面的老先生。那位颇有礼貌的经纪人客气地说他不能再告诉我什么了，因为他不能议论他顾主的事。
那天晚上，歇洛克·福尔摩斯先生注意地倾听了我向他作的冗长的报告。我本来期望受到称赞，而且很重视他的称赞，可是连一句赞许的话也没有听到。恰恰相反，在他评论我做过的事和没有做到的事时，他那严峻的面容甚至比平时更加严肃。
“我亲爱的华生，你那藏身之地是非常失算的。你本来应该藏到树篱后面，仔细看看那位有趣的人。事实上，你藏的地方离那儿几百码，告诉我的情况甚至比史密斯小姐还要少。她认为她不认识那个人，我确信她是认识的。要不然，他为什么那样拼死拼活地担心，生怕那姑娘走近他，看清了他的面貌呢？你说他伏身在自行车把上，你看，这不又是为了隐藏面目吗？你确实作得十分不妙。他回到了那所宅院，你要查明他是谁，却跑到一个伦敦房产经纪人那里！”
“那我应该怎么办呢？"我有点头脑发热地高声喊道。
“到离那儿最近的酒店里去，那里是村上扯闲话的中心。人家会告诉你每一个人的名字，从主人到帮厨的女仆。至于威廉森吗，我一点印象也没有。假如他是老年人，那么他就不是那个灵敏的骑车人，不是在那个姑娘迅速敏捷的追赶下翩然逃脱的人。你这次远行的收获是什么呢？知道了那姑娘所讲的是真事，这我从来都不怀疑。知道了骑车人和庄园有关系这我同样不曾怀疑过。知道了那庄园是由威廉森租用的。谁又能为这作保证呢？好了，好了，我亲爱的先生，不要显得那么灰心丧气。星期六以前我们还可以多干点事，这段时间我还可以亲自做一两次调查。”
第二天早晨，我们接到史密斯小姐一封短信，简要而又准确地重述了我亲眼看到的那件事，可是信的主旨却留在附言中。
当我告诉你我在这里的处境已经变得很困难时，我相信你会考虑我所吐露的秘密，这是由于我的雇主已经向我求婚这样一个事实。我相信他的感情是十分深厚而且高尚的。这时，我当然把我已经订婚的事告诉了他。他把我的拒绝看得非常严重，但又十分和气。然而，你可以理解，我的处境是有些尴尬了。
“我们的年轻朋友看起来陷入了困境，"福尔摩斯看完信后，若有所思地说道，"这件案子肯定比我原来设想的有趣得多，发展的可能性也多得多。我还是应当到乡下去过一天安静太平日子，我打算今天下午就去，并且把我所形成的一两点想法检验一下。”
福尔摩斯在乡下度过的安静日子，结局是很奇特的，因为他晚间很晚才回到贝克街，嘴唇划破了，额头上还青肿了一大块，还有那种狼狈样子，好象是一个苏格兰场调查的对象。他对自己的历险感到非常高兴，一边讲述，一边出自内心地哈哈大笑。
“积极的锻炼总是有用的，可惜我锻炼的不多。"福尔摩斯说道，"你知道，我精通一些优秀的英国旧式拳击运动，并且偶尔用得上它，比如说，今天，要是没有这一手，那我就要遭到非常可耻的惨败了。”
我请他告诉我发生了什么事。
“我到了请你注意过的那个乡村酒店，在那里小心谨慎地进行调查。在酒吧间里，饶舌的店主把我所要知道的一切都告诉了我。威廉森是一个白胡子老头，他和少数几个仆人住在庄园里。传说他现在是或过去当过牧师，可是在庄园这段短时间，有一两件小事使我觉得他很不象牧师。我查询过一个牧师机构，他们告诉我，曾经有一个叫这名字的牧师，但他过去的行径极不光彩。那店主接着告诉我，庄园里每到周末总有一些来客——'是一伙下流坯，先生'——特别是一个蓄红胡子的人，名叫伍德利的，总少不了他。我们正谈到这里，那位伍德利先生竟然走了过来，他一直在酒吧间喝啤酒，把我们的话全都听去了。他问我是什么人？我要干什么？我问这些问题是什么意思？他口若悬河，修饰语满口都是。他最后谩骂了一通，凶恶地反手一击，我没有来得及躲避。后来的几分钟就很有趣了。我给那凶恶的暴徒一连串的打击。我就成了你看到的这种样子。伍德利先生乘车回去了。我这场乡村旅行也就这样告终了。必须承认，不管多么有趣，我这一天萨里边界之行并不比你的收获大。”
星期四那天我们又收到那位委托人的一封信。她写道：
福尔摩斯先生，你听到我就要辞去卡拉瑟斯先生的雇聘，不会感到惊奇吧。即使报酬优厚，我也不甘心忍受这尴尬的处境。我在星期六回城里，不打算再回来了。卡拉瑟斯先生已备好一辆马车，因此，如果说过去路上有什么危险的话，那么偏僻车路上的危险现在已经不存在了。
至于我辞聘的具体原因，不单是我和卡拉瑟斯先生的尴尬处境，而且是那个令人嫌恶的人伍德利先生又来了。他本来可怕，现在的嘴脸更可怕了。因为他好象出了什么事，所以更加不象样子了。我是从窗子里面看到他的，我很高兴说，我并没有碰上他。他和卡拉瑟斯先生谈了很长时间，从此以后卡拉瑟斯先生非常激动。伍德利一定居住在附近，因为他并没有住在卡拉瑟斯家里。今早我又看到他在灌木丛中鬼鬼祟祟地活动。我不久就会在这地方碰到这头凶猛的吃人野兽，简直说不出是多么憎恨和害怕了。卡拉瑟斯先生怎么竟能容忍这样的一个家伙？一刻也容忍不得啊！不过，我的一切麻烦到星期六就要结束了。
“我相信是这样的，华生，我相信是这样的，"福尔摩斯严肃地说道，“围绕着这位小姑娘正进行着一场极为隐秘的阴谋，我们有责任去一趟，不让任何人在她最后一次旅行中骚扰她。华生，我想星期六早晨我们一定抽时间一起去，以便保证我们这次奇异而广泛的调查不致遭受不幸的结局。”
我承认直到现在我还没有十分看重这件案子，在我看来其中并没有什么危险，只不过有些荒诞、古怪而已。男人埋伏着等待漂亮的女人并且尾随她，这并不是什么闻所未闻的事，如果他只有那么一点点放肆，不仅不敢向她求爱，而在她接近他的时候，反而逃跑，那他就不是十分可怕的暴徒。那个恶棍伍德利则又当别论。可是，除了那一次之外，他再没有骚扰过我们的委托人，近来他到过卡拉瑟斯家，可也没有闯到她面前。那个骑车人无疑是酒店老板所说的周末聚会的成员。可他是什么人呢，他要干什么呢？却依然模糊不清。福尔摩斯的严肃表情，他离开我们房间以前，把一只手枪塞到衣袋里，这些都使我感到，这一连串怪事后面可能隐藏着悲剧。
夜雨之后，早晨阳光灿烂，长满石南灌木丛的农村，点缀着一丛丛盛开的金雀花，闪闪金光，对厌倦伦敦那阴郁灰暗色调的人来说，显得更加美丽，不觉耳目一新。福尔摩斯和我漫步在宽阔而多沙的道路上，呼吸着清晨的新鲜空气，欣赏着鸟语花香，到处一派欣欣向荣的春意。我们从克鲁克斯伯里山巅的大路高处，可以看到那座不祥的庄园耸立在古老的橡树丛中。橡树本来够古老的了，可是比起橡树环抱的建筑物来，却依然显得年轻。福尔摩斯指着长长的一段路，在那棕褐色的石南灌木丛和一片嫩绿的树林之间，宛如一条红黄色的带子。远处，出现一个小黑点，可以看出是一辆单马马车在向我们这个方向移动。福尔摩斯焦急地惊呼了一声。
“我差了半个小时，"福尔摩斯说道，“假如这是她的马车，她一定是在赶乘早些的列车。华生，恐怕我们来不及会她，她早就经过查林顿了。”
这时，我们过了大路高处，已经看不到那辆马车了，可是我们加速向前赶路，速度之快，使我开始露出平日安坐为生的坏处，因而不得不落到后面。然而，福尔摩斯一直锻炼有素，因为他有用之不竭的旺盛精力。他那轻快的脚步一直没有放慢，突然，他在我前面一百码的地方停止了脚步。我看见他举起一只手作了一个失败而绝望的手势。与此同时，一辆空马车拐过大路的转弯处，那骑马缰绳拖地，慢步小跑，马车吱吱嘎嘎地向我们迎面驶来。
“太晚了，华生，太晚了！"在我气喘吁吁地跑到福尔摩斯身旁时，他大声喊道，"我真愚蠢，怎么没有想到她要赶那趟早些的列车！一定是劫持，华生，是劫持！是谋杀！天知道是什么！把路挡上！把马拦住！这就对了。喂，跳上车，看看我们能否补救自己的大错造成的后果。”
我们跳上马车，福尔摩斯调过马头，狠狠给了那马一鞭子，我们便顺大路往回疾驰。在我们转过弯时，庄园和石南地段间的整个大路都展现在眼前。我抓住了福尔摩斯的胳膊。
“就是那个人！"我气喘吁吁地说。
一个无伴骑车人向我们冲过来。他低着头，双肩滚圆，把全身气力都用在脚蹬子上，象赛车的人一样蹬得飞快。突然他抬起满是胡子的脸，见我们近在眼前，便停下车，从自行车上跳下来，他那乌黑的胡子和苍白的脸色形成鲜明的对照。他双目闪亮，仿佛正在极度兴奋之中。他瞪眼瞅着我们和那辆马车，然后脸上显出惊异的神色。
“喂！停下！"他大声喊道，用他的自行车把我们的路挡住，"你们在哪儿弄到的这辆马车？嗨，停下！"他从侧面口袋中掏出手枪咆哮道，"告诉你，停下，要不然，我可真的要赏你那骑马一颗子弹了。”
福尔摩斯把缰绳扔到我腿上，从马车上跳下来。
“你正是我们要见的人，维奥莱特·史密斯小姐在哪里？”福尔摩斯连忙清晰地问道。
“我正要问你们呢。你们坐的是她的马车，应当知道她在哪儿。”
“我们在路上碰到这辆马车，上面没有人，我们才把车赶回来去救那位姑娘。”
“天哪！天哪！我怎么办哪？"那个陌生人绝望地喊道，"他们把她抓走了，那个该死的伍德利和那个恶棍牧师！快来，先生，假如你们真是她的朋友，那就快来。帮我一同搭救她吧，我横尸查林顿森林也在所不惜！”
他提着手枪向树篱的一个豁口疯狂跑去，福尔摩斯紧跟在后，我把马放到路旁吃草，也跟在福尔摩斯身后跑过去。
“他们是从这儿穿过去的，"陌生人指着泥泞小路上的足迹说道，"喂！停一下！灌木丛里是什么人？”
那是个十七八岁的小伙子，衣着象马夫，穿着皮裤，打着绑腿。他仰面躺着，双膝蜷曲，头上有一道可怕的伤口，已经失去知觉，不过还有气息。我把他的伤口看了一眼，知道没有伤到骨头。
“这就是马夫彼得，"陌生人喊道，"他就是给那姑娘赶车的。那些畜生把他拉下车来用棍棒打伤了。让他先躺在这儿吧，我们反正救不了他，可是我们却可以从可能落到一个女人身上的最坏厄运中把她搭救出来。”
我们发疯一般向林中盘曲小径奔去，一到环绕着宅院的灌木丛，福尔摩斯就站住了。
“他们没有进宅院。左边有他们的脚印，在这儿，在月桂树丛旁边。啊！我说得不错。”
他正说着，传来一阵女人的尖声哀叫，一种带着极度惊恐的颤声狂呼从我们面前一片浓密的绿色灌木丛中传出来。突然尖声高叫停止了，接着是一阵窒息的咯咯声。
“这边！这边！他们在滚球场，"那陌生人闯过灌木丛，说道，"啊，这些胆小鬼！跟我来，先生们！哎呀！太迟了！太迟了！”
我们猛然闯进古树环绕的一片林间绿草地。草地那一边，在一棵大橡树的树荫下站着三个人。一个是女人，就是我们的委托人，她垂着头，半昏厥过去，嘴上蒙着手帕。她对面站着面貌凶残的红胡子年青人，腿上扎着绑腿，大叉腿站着，一只手叉腰，另一只手里晃动着马鞭，他的整个神情显示出一种洋洋得意的架式。这两个人中间站着一个花白胡子的老家伙，穿浅色花呢衣服，外罩白色短法衣，显然刚做完结婚仪式，因为我们一到，他就把一本祈祷书装进衣袋，并且轻轻拍着那阴险的新郎的后背，兴致勃勃地向他祝福。
“他们在举行婚礼！"我气喘吁吁地说道。
“来！"我们的领路人喊道，"来！"他冲过林中空地，福尔摩斯和我紧紧跟随。在我们冲到姑娘跟前时，她摇摇晃晃地靠在树干上以免摔倒。前牧师威廉森向我们嘲弄地鞠了一躬，而暴徒伍德利却野蛮地大吼一声，得意忘形地狂笑着，向我们冲来。
“你可以把你的胡子摘掉，鲍勃，"他说道，"我认识你，一点不含糊。喂，你和你的同伙来得正是时候，我正好给你们介绍一下伍德利夫人。”
我们那带路人的回答很特别。他一把拉掉用以伪装的黑胡子，把它扔到地上，露出刮得光光的浅黄色长脸。然后举起手枪，对准了那年轻的暴徒，这时，那暴徒正好手挥致命的马鞭向他冲来。
“是的，"我们的伙伴说道，"我就是鲍勃·卡拉瑟斯，我要看到这姑娘安然无恙，否则我只好上吊了。我告诉过你，假如你骚扰了她，我准备怎么办。皇天在上，我说到做到。”
“你太晚了，她已经是我妻子了。”
“不对，她是你的寡妻。”
枪声响了，我看到血从伍德利前心喷出来。他尖叫一声转了一子就仰面倒下了，那丑陋的红脸霎时变成斑驳而又苍白，十分吓人。那老头子依然披着白色的法衣，此时破口大骂，那骂不绝口的肮脏话语，我真是闻所未闻的。他掏出他自己的手枪来，但还没来得及举枪，就看见福尔摩斯的枪口已经对准他了。
“够了，"我的朋友冷冷地说道，"把枪扔下！华生，你把枪拣起来！把枪对准他的头！谢谢你。还有你，卡拉瑟斯，把你的枪也给我。我们用不着再动武了。来，把枪缴了！”
“那么，你是谁？”
“我叫歇洛克·福尔摩斯。”
“啊呀！”
“我看得出，你们早知道我的名字了。在官方警探来到以前，我只好代劳了。喂，你！福尔摩斯向林中空地那边一个吓坏了的马夫喊道，纳姆去。"福尔摩斯从笔记本上撕下一页纸，草草写了几句话，"把这送到署交给警长。在他来到之前，我只好代劳来监护你们了。”
福尔摩斯那坚强的主宰一切的性格在支配着这幕惨剧的场面，所有的人都同样乖乖地听他的摆布。威廉森和卡拉瑟斯把受伤的伍德利抬进屋去，我也扶着那受惊的姑娘。伤者放在床上，我应福尔摩斯的要求对伤者进行了检查。当我向他报告检查结果时，他正坐在挂有壁毯的老式饭厅里，面前坐着受他监护的威廉森和卡拉瑟斯。
“他可以活下来，"我报告说。
“什么！"卡拉瑟斯高声喊道，从椅子上跳下来，"我首先上楼把他结果了再说。你们不是对我说，那个小天使般的姑娘要一辈子受狂徒伍德利的约束吗？”
“这用不着你过问，"福尔摩斯说道，"她根本不成其为他的妻室，这有两条非常充分的理由。第一，我们完全有把握怀疑威廉森主持婚礼的权利。”
“我受任过圣职，"那老无赖喊道。
“早就免去圣职了。”
“一旦做牧师，终身是牧师。”
“我看不行。那么结婚证书呢？”
“我们有结婚证书，就在我衣袋里。”
“照此看来，你们是靠阴谋诡计弄来的。不管怎样来的，反正强迫婚姻绝对不是婚姻，而是十分严重的罪行。在你们完蛋以前，你会悟出这一点的。除非我弄错了，在今后十年左右，你是有时间想通这一点的。至于你，卡拉瑟斯，要是你不从衣袋里掏出枪来，你本来可以干得好一些的。”
“我现在才开始这样想，福尔摩斯先生，可是在我想到我为保护那姑娘所采取的一切预防措施时——因为我爱她，福尔摩斯先生，而这是我有生以来头一次知道什么叫做爱——想到她落入那个南非最残忍的暴徒的魔掌之中，而此人的名字从金伯利到约翰内斯堡人人惧怕，这简直使我发狂。啊，①福尔摩斯先生，你很难相信这些，我知道这些无赖潜伏在这所宅子里，可是自从那姑娘受我聘请以来，她经过这所房子时，我没有一次不骑车护送她，亲眼看她不致受到伤害。我和她保持着一定距离，我戴上了胡子，以便使她认不出我来，因为她是一位善良而气质高贵的姑娘，如果她想到是我在村①金伯利及约翰内斯堡均为南非地名。——译者注路上尾随她，她就不会长期受我雇聘了。”
“你为什么不把危险告诉她呢？”
“因为那样一来，她还是要离开我的，可是我不愿意有这样的事。即使她不爱我，只要我能在家里看到她那秀丽的容貌，听到她的声音，那我就知足了。”
“喂，"我说道，"你把这叫做爱，卡拉瑟斯先生。可是我却把这叫做利己主义。”
“可能两者兼而有之。不管怎样，我不能让她离开。再说，她周围有这伙人，最好还是有人在身边照顾她好一些。后来，接到电报，我知道他们一定要有所行动了。”
“什么电报？”
卡拉瑟斯从口袋里拿出一份电报来。
“就是这个，"他说道。
电文非常简单明了：
老儿已死。
“哼！"福尔摩斯说道，"我想我知道这是怎么回事了，并且我也明白，象你所说的，这封电报会引其他们走向极端。你们可以一边等，一边尽你所知全部告诉我。”
那个穿白色法衣的老恶棍破口骂出一连串肮脏话。
“皇天在上！"他说道，"假如你泄露我们的秘密，鲍勃，我就要用你对付杰克·伍德利的手段来对付你。你可以随心所欲地把那姑娘的事说得天花乱坠，那是你们自己的事，可是你要把你的朋友出卖给这个便衣，那你就要自找倒霉了。”
“尊敬的牧师阁下用不着激动，"福尔摩斯点燃香烟，说道，"这件案子对你们不利，这是十分清楚的。我不过出于个人好奇，问几个细节问题而已。不过，假如你们不便见告，那么我就来说一说，然后你们就会明白你们还能隐瞒住什么秘密了。首先，你们三个人从南非来玩这场把戏——你威廉森，你卡拉瑟斯，还有伍德利。”
“头号的谎言，"那老家伙说道，"两个月以前，我连他们见也没见过，而且我生来也没到过非洲，所以你可以把这谎言放进烟斗里一起烧掉，爱管闲事的福尔摩斯先生。”
“他说的是实话，"卡拉瑟斯说道。
“好了，好了，你们两个是从远方来的。这位尊敬的牧师是我们自己的本国货。你们在南非结识了拉尔夫·史密斯。你们有理由相信他不会活得很久了，你们发现他的侄女要继承他的遗产。我这话怎么样？嗯？”
卡拉瑟斯点点头，威廉森咒骂不止。
“毫无疑问，她是最近的亲属，你们知道那个老人不会留下遗嘱。”
“他不认字也不会写，"卡拉瑟斯说道。
“所以你们两人不远万里而来，到处查寻这位姑娘。你们打的主意是，一个人娶她，另一个人分一部分赃款。由于某种原因，伍德利选上做丈夫。那原因是什么呢？”
“我们在航途打牌，用那个姑娘作注，伍德利赢了。”
“我明白了。你把姑娘骗到你家里，好让伍德利到你家向她求爱。可是她看得出伍德利是个酗酒的恶棍，不愿和他来往。同时，你自己也爱上了这位姑娘，这就完全打乱了你们的安排。你想到那个恶棍要占有这姑娘，便再也不能容忍了。”
“对，的确，我不能再容忍了。”
“于是你们争吵起来。他一怒之下就走了，把你起在一边，自己打主意了。”
“威廉森，我看，我们要说的这位先生都说了，已经所剩无几了，"卡拉瑟斯苦笑着大声喊道，"对，我们争吵过，他把我了。不管怎样，在打架方面，我和他是不相上下的。后来我就见不到他了。原来那时他在这里结识了这位被免职的牧师。我发现他们俩在这儿租了房子，这正是她去车站的必经之路。在这以后我就留心照料她，因为我知道风声啊。我一次又一次地去看他们，因为很想知道他们在追求什么。两天以前伍德利带着这封电报到我家来，电报说拉尔夫·史密斯已经去世。伍德利问我是不是遵守讲好的交易条件。我说我不愿意。他问我是不是自己想娶那姑娘，然后分给他一部分财产。我说我倒是愿意这么办，可是姑娘不答应。伍德利说，'让我们先把她娶到手，过一两个星期，她对事情的看法就会有所不同了。'我说我不愿意动用武力。所以他就现出那出言下流的无赖本色，骂骂咧咧地走了，并且发誓说，一定要把她弄到手。她打算这个周末离开我，我弄到一辆轻便马车送她去车站，可总是放心不下，所以骑自行车赶来。然而，她已经动身了，还没等我追上她，祸事就发生了。我一看到你们两位先生把她乘坐的马车赶回来，我就立即知道情况不妙了。”
福尔摩斯站起来，把烟蒂扔进壁炉。"我的感觉一直很迟钝，华生，"他说道，"当你报告说你见骑车人好象在灌木丛中整理领带，光是这一件事就早已向我说明了一切。不过，我们还可以庆幸我们通到这样一桩希奇古怪的、在某些方面又是独一无二的案子。我看见车道上来了三名区，我很高兴看到那个小马夫也能跟他们走得一样快，所以，看来，不管是牧师，还是那个有趣的新郎，由于他们今天早晨的非法行动，将永无出头之日了。华生，我想，凭你的医务能力，你可以拜访史密斯小姐，告诉她，假如她恢复了健康，我们就送她回娘家去。如果她还没有完全复原，你可以暗示说，我们准备给米得兰公司的一位年轻电学家打电报，这多半可以把她治愈。至于你，卡拉瑟斯先生，我想你对你参加的罪恶阴谋活动，已经力所能及地进行了补救。这是我的名片，先生，如果在审判你的时候，我的证词对你有益的话，请随意使用好了。”
在我们那层出不穷的活动中，读者可能已经察觉，我往往很难对我的记叙文加以润色，并且写出读者可能期望的那些希奇古怪的最终详细情节。每一案件都是另一案件的序幕，而决定性时刻一过，那些登台人物就从我们的忙乱生活中永远退场。然而，我找到了我记叙这件案子的手稿，手稿的结尾有一段简要的记载，我在记载中报告说，维奥莱特·史密斯小姐果真继承了一大笔遗产，现在她已经是莫顿和肯尼迪公司的大股东，著名的威斯敏斯特电学家西里尔·莫顿的妻子。威廉森和伍德利两个人都因诱拐和伤害罪受审，威廉森被判七年徒刑，伍德利被判十年徒刑。我没有得到卡拉瑟斯结果如何的报告，不过我相信，既然伍德利是一个声名狼藉的十分危险的恶棍，法庭是不会十分严重地看待卡拉瑟斯所犯的伤害罪的，我想法官判他几个月监禁也就足够了。
On referring to my note-book for the year 1895 I find that it was upon Saturday, the 23rd of April, that we first heard of Miss Violet Smith. Her visit was, I remember, extremely unwelcome to Holmes, for he was immersed at the moment in a very abstruse and complicated problem concerning the peculiar persecution to which John Vincent Harden, the well-known tobacco millionaire, had been subjected. My friend, who loved above all things precision and concentration of thought, resented anything which distracted his attention from the matter in hand. And yet without a harshness which was foreign to his nature it was impossible to refuse to listen to the story of the young and beautiful woman, tall, graceful, and queenly, who presented herself at Baker Street late in the evening and implored his assistance and advice. It was vain to urge that his time was already fully occupied, for the young lady had come with the determination to tell her story, and it was evident that nothing short of force could get her out of the room until she had done so. With a resigned air and a somewhat weary smile, Holmes begged the beautiful intruder to take a seat and to inform us what it was that was troubling her.
"At least it cannot be your health," said he, as his keen eyes darted over her; "so ardent a bicyclist must be full of energy."
She glanced down in surprise at her own feet, and I observed the slight roughening of the side of the sole caused by the friction of the edge of the pedal.
"Yes, I bicycle a good deal, Mr. Holmes, and that has something to do with my visit to you to-day."
My friend took the lady's ungloved hand and examined it with as close an attention and as little sentiment as a scientist would show to a specimen.
"You will excuse me, I am sure. It is my business," said he, as he dropped it. "I nearly fell into the error of supposing that you were typewriting. Of course, it is obvious that it is music. You observe the spatulate finger-end, Watson, which is common to both professions? There is a spirituality about the face, however" -- he gently turned it towards the light -- "which the typewriter does not generate. This lady is a musician."
"Yes, Mr. Holmes, I teach music."
"In the country, I presume, from your complexion."
"Yes, sir; near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey."
"A beautiful neighbourhood and full of the most interesting associations. You remember, Watson, that it was near there that we took Archie Stamford, the forger. Now, Miss Violet, what has happened to you near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey?"
The young lady, with great clearness and composure, made the following curious statement:--
"My father is dead, Mr. Holmes. He was James Smith, who conducted the orchestra at the old Imperial Theatre. My mother and I were left without a relation in the world except one uncle, Ralph Smith, who went to Africa twenty-five years ago, and we have never had a word from him since. When father died we were left very poor, but one day we were told that there was an advertisement in the TIMES inquiring for our whereabouts. You can imagine how excited we were, for we thought that someone had left us a fortune. We went at once to the lawyer whose name was given in the paper. There we met two gentlemen, Mr. Carruthers and Mr. Woodley, who were home on a visit from South Africa. They said that my uncle was a friend of theirs, that he died some months before in great poverty in Johannesburg, and that he had asked them with his last breath to hunt up his relations and see that they were in no want. It seemed strange to us that Uncle Ralph, who took no notice of us when he was alive, should be so careful to look after us when he was dead; but Mr. Carruthers explained that the reason was that my uncle had just heard of the death of his brother, and so felt responsible for our fate."
"Excuse me," said Holmes; "when was this interview?"
"Last December -- four months ago."
"Pray proceed."
"Mr. Woodley seemed to me to be a most odious person. He was for ever making eyes at me -- a coarse, puffy-faced, red-moustached young man, with his hair plastered down on each side of his forehead. I thought that he was perfectly hateful -- and I was sure that Cyril would not wish me to know such a person."
"Oh, Cyril is his name!" said Holmes, smiling.
The young lady blushed and laughed.
"Yes, Mr. Holmes; Cyril Morton, an electrical engineer, and we hope to be married at the end of the summer. Dear me, how DID I get talking about him? What I wished to say was that Mr. Woodley was perfectly odious, but that Mr. Carruthers, who was a much older man, was more agreeable. He was a dark, sallow, clean-shaven, silent person; but he had polite manners and a pleasant smile. He inquired how we were left, and on finding that we were very poor he suggested that I should come and teach music to his only daughter, aged ten. I said that I did not like to leave my mother, on which he suggested that I should go home to her every week-end, and he offered me a hundred a year, which was certainly splendid pay. So it ended by my accepting, and I went down to Chiltern Grange, about six miles from Farnham. Mr. Carruthers was a widower, but he had engaged a lady-housekeeper, a very respectable, elderly person, called Mrs. Dixon, to look after his establishment. The child was a dear, and everything promised well. Mr. Carruthers was very kind and very musical, and we had most pleasant evenings together. Every week-end I went home to my mother in town.
"The first flaw in my happiness was the arrival of the red-moustached Mr. Woodley. He came for a visit of a week, and oh, it seemed three months to me! He was a dreadful person, a bully to everyone else, but to me something infinitely worse. He made odious love to me, boasted of his wealth, said that if I married him I would have the finest diamonds in London, and finally, when I would have nothing to do with him, he seized me in his arms one day after dinner -- he was hideously strong -- and he swore that he would not let me go until I had kissed him. Mr. Carruthers came in and tore him off from me, on which he turned upon his own host, knocking him down and cutting his face open. That was the end of his visit, as you can imagine. Mr. Carruthers apologized to me next day, and assured me that I should never be exposed to such an insult again. I have not seen Mr. Woodley since.
"And now, Mr. Holmes, I come at last to the special thing which has caused me to ask your advice to-day. You must know that every Saturday forenoon I ride on my bicycle to Farnham Station in order to get the 12.22 to town. The road from Chiltern Grange is a lonely one, and at one spot it is particularly so, for it lies for over a mile between Charlington Heath upon one side and the woods which lie round Charlington Hall upon the other. You could not find a more lonely tract of road anywhere, and it is quite rare to meet so much as a cart, or a peasant, until you reach the high road near Crooksbury Hill. Two weeks ago I was passing this place when I chanced to look back over my shoulder, and about two hundred yards behind me I saw a man, also on a bicycle. He seemed to be a middle-aged man, with a short, dark beard. I looked back before I reached Farnham, but the man was gone, so I thought no more about it. But you can imagine how surprised I was, Mr. Holmes, when on my return on the Monday I saw the same man on the same stretch of road. My astonishment was increased when the incident occurred again, exactly as before, on the following Saturday and Monday. He always kept his distance and did not molest me in any way, but still it certainly was very odd. I mentioned it to Mr. Carruthers, who seemed interested in what I said, and told me that he had ordered a horse and trap, so that in future I should not pass over these lonely roads without some companion.
"The horse and trap were to have come this week, but for some reason they were not delivered, and again I had to cycle to the station. That was this morning. You can think that I looked out when I came to Charlington Heath, and there, sure enough, was the man, exactly as he had been the two weeks before. He always kept so far from me that I could not clearly see his face, but it was certainly someone whom I did not know. He was dressed in a dark suit with a cloth cap. The only thing about his face that I could clearly see was his dark beard. To-day I was not alarmed, but I was filled with curiosity, and I determined to find out who he was and what he wanted. I slowed down my machine, but he slowed down his. Then I stopped altogether, but he stopped also. Then I laid a trap for him. There is a sharp turning of the road, and I pedalled very quickly round this, and then I stopped and waited. I expected him to shoot round and pass me before he could stop. But he never appeared. Then I went back and looked round the corner. I could see a mile of road, but he was not on it. To make it the more extraordinary, there was no side road at this point down which he could have gone."
Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. "This case certainly presents some features of its own," said he. "How much time elapsed between your turning the corner and your discovery that the road was clear?"
"Two or three minutes."
"Then he could not have retreated down the road, and you say that there are no side roads?"
"None."
"Then he certainly took a footpath on one side or the other."
"It could not have been on the side of the heath or I should have seen him."
"So by the process of exclusion we arrive at the fact that he made his way towards Charlington Hall, which, as I understand, is situated in its own grounds on one side of the road. Anything else?"
"Nothing, Mr. Holmes, save that I was so perplexed that I felt I should not be happy until I had seen you and had your advice."
Holmes sat in silence for some little time.
"Where is the gentleman to whom you are engaged?" he asked, at last.
"He is in the Midland Electrical Company, at Coventry."
"He would not pay you a surprise visit?"
"Oh, Mr. Holmes! As if I should not know him!"
"Have you had any other admirers?"
"Several before I knew Cyril."
"And since?"
"There was this dreadful man, Woodley, if you can call him an admirer."
"No one else?"
Our fair client seemed a little confused.
"Who was he?" asked Holmes.
"Oh, it may be a mere fancy of mine; but it has seemed to me sometimes that my employer, Mr. Carruthers, takes a great deal of interest in me. We are thrown rather together. I play his accompaniments in the evening. He has never said anything. He is a perfect gentleman. But a girl always knows."
"Ha!" Holmes looked grave. "What does he do for a living?"
"He is a rich man."
"No carriages or horses?"
"Well, at least he is fairly well-to-do. But he goes into the City two or three times a week. He is deeply interested in South African gold shares."
"You will let me know any fresh development, Miss Smith. I am very busy just now, but I will find time to make some inquiries into your case. In the meantime take no step without letting me know. Good-bye, and I trust that we shall have nothing but good news from you."
"It is part of the settled order of Nature that such a girl should have followers," said Holmes, as he pulled at his meditative pipe, "but for choice not on bicycles in lonely country roads. Some secretive lover, beyond all doubt. But there are curious and suggestive details about the case, Watson."
"That he should appear only at that point?"
"Exactly. Our first effort must be to find who are the tenants of Charlington Hall. Then, again, how about the connection between Carruthers and Woodley, since they appear to be men of such a different type? How came they BOTH to be so keen upon looking up Ralph Smith's relations? One more point. What sort of a MENAGE is it which pays double the market price for a governess, but does not keep a horse although six miles from the station? Odd, Watson -- very odd!"
"You will go down?"
"No, my dear fellow, YOU will go down. This may be some trifling intrigue, and I cannot break my other important research for the sake of it. On Monday you will arrive early at Farnham; you will conceal yourself near Charlington Heath; you will observe these facts for yourself, and act as your own judgment advises. Then, having inquired as to the occupants of the Hall, you will come back to me and report. And now, Watson, not another word of the matter until we have a few solid stepping-stones on which we may hope to get across to our solution."
We had ascertained from the lady that she went down upon the Monday by the train which leaves Waterloo at 9.50, so I started early and caught the 9.13. At Farnham Station I had no difficulty in being directed to Charlington Heath. It was impossible to mistake the scene of the young lady's adventure, for the road runs between the open heath on one side and an old yew hedge upon the other, surrounding a park which is studded with magnificent trees. There was a main gateway of lichen-studded stone, each side pillar surmounted by mouldering heraldic emblems; but besides this central carriage drive I observed several points where there were gaps in the hedge and paths leading through them. The house was invisible from the road, but the surroundings all spoke of gloom and decay.
The heath was covered with golden patches of flowering gorse, gleaming magnificently in the light of the bright spring sunshine. Behind one of these clumps I took up my position, so as to command both the gateway of the Hall and a long stretch of the road upon either side. It had been deserted when I left it, but now I saw a cyclist riding down it from the opposite direction to that in which I had come. He was clad in a dark suit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end of the Charlington grounds he sprang from his machine and led it through a gap in the hedge, disappearing from my view.
A quarter of an hour passed and then a second cyclist appeared. This time it was the young lady coming from the station. I saw her look about her as she came to the Charlington hedge. An instant later the man emerged from his hiding-place, sprang upon his cycle, and followed her. In all the broad landscape those were the only moving figures, the graceful girl sitting very straight upon her machine, and the man behind her bending low over his handle-bar, with a curiously furtive suggestion in every movement. She looked back at him and slowed her pace. He slowed also. She stopped. He at once stopped too, keeping two hundred yards behind her. Her next movement was as unexpected as it was spirited. She suddenly whisked her wheels round and dashed straight at him! He was as quick as she, however, and darted off in desperate flight. Presently she came back up the road again, her head haughtily in the air, not deigning to take any further notice of her silent attendant. He had turned also, and still kept his distance until the curve of the road hid them from my sight.
I remained in my hiding-place, and it was well that I did so, for presently the man reappeared cycling slowly back. He turned in at the Hall gates and dismounted from his machine. For some few minutes I could see him standing among the trees. His hands were raised and he seemed to be settling his necktie. Then he mounted his cycle and rode away from me down the drive towards the Hall. I ran across the heath and peered through the trees. Far away I could catch glimpses of the old grey building with its bristling Tudor chimneys, but the drive ran through a dense shrubbery, and I saw no more of my man.
However, it seemed to me that I had done a fairly good morning's work, and I walked back in high spirits to Farnham. The local house-agent could tell me nothing about Charlington Hall, and referred me to a well-known firm in Pall Mall. There I halted on my way home, and met with courtesy from the representative. No, I could not have Charlington Hall for the summer. I was just too late. It had been let about a month ago. Mr. Williamson was the name of the tenant. He was a respectable elderly gentleman. The polite agent was afraid he could say no more, as the affairs of his clients were not matters which he could discuss.
Mr. Sherlock Holmes listened with attention to the long report which I was able to present to him that evening, but it did not elicit that word of curt praise which I had hoped for and should have valued. On the contrary, his austere face was even more severe than usual as he commented upon the things that I had done and the things that I had not.
"Your hiding-place, my dear Watson, was very faulty. You should have been behind the hedge; then you would have had a close view of this interesting person. As it is you were some hundreds of yards away, and can tell me even less than Miss Smith. She thinks she does not know the man; I am convinced she does. Why, otherwise, should he be so desperately anxious that she should not get so near him as to see his features? You describe him as bending over the handle-bar. Concealment again, you see. You really have done remarkably badly. He returns to the house and you want to find out who he is. You come to a London house-agent!"
"What should I have done?" I cried, with some heat.
"Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centre of country gossip. They would have told you every name, from the master to the scullery-maid. Williamson! It conveys nothing to my mind. If he is an elderly man he is not this active cyclist who sprints away from that athletic young lady's pursuit. What have we gained by your expedition? The knowledge that the girl's story is true. I never doubted it. That there is a connection between the cyclist and the Hall. I never doubted that either. That the Hall is tenanted by Williamson. Who's the better for that? Well, well, my dear sir, don't look so depressed. We can do little more until next Saturday, and in the meantime I may make one or two inquiries myself."
Next morning we had a note from Miss Smith, recounting shortly and accurately the very incidents which I had seen, but the pith of the letter lay in the postscript:--
"I am sure that you will respect my confidence, Mr. Holmes, when I tell you that my place here has become difficult owing to the fact that my employer has proposed marriage to me. I am convinced that his feelings are most deep and most honourable. At the same time my promise is, of course, given. He took my refusal very seriously, but also very gently. You can understand, however, that the situation is a little strained."
"Our young friend seems to be getting into deep waters," said Holmes, thoughtfully, as he finished the letter. "The case certainly presents more features of interest and more possibility of development than I had originally thought. I should be none the worse for a quiet, peaceful day in the country, and I am inclined to run down this afternoon and test one or two theories which I have formed."
Holmes's quiet day in the country had a singular termination, for he arrived at Baker Street late in the evening with a cut lip and a discoloured lump upon his forehead, besides a general air of dissipation which would have made his own person the fitting object of a Scotland Yard investigation. He was immensely tickled by his own adventures, and laughed heartily as he recounted them.
"I get so little active exercise that it is always a treat," said he. "You are aware that I have some proficiency in the good old British sport of boxing. Occasionally it is of service. To-day, for example, I should have come to very ignominious grief without it."
I begged him to tell me what had occurred.
"I found that country pub which I had already recommended to your notice, and there I made my discreet inquiries. I was in the bar, and a garrulous landlord was giving me all that I wanted. Williamson is a white-bearded man, and he lives alone with a small staff of servants at the Hall. There is some rumour that he is or has been a clergyman; but one or two incidents of his short residence at the Hall struck me as peculiarly unecclesiastical. I have already made some inquiries at a clerical agency, and they tell me that there WAS a man of that name in orders whose career has been a singularly dark one. The landlord further informed me that there are usually week-end visitors -- `a warm lot, sir' -- at the Hall, and especially one gentleman with a red moustache, Mr. Woodley by name, who was always there. We had got as far as this when who should walk in but the gentleman himself, who had been drinking his beer in the tap-room and had heard the whole conversation. Who was I? What did I want? What did I mean by asking questions? He had a fine flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous. He ended a string of abuse by a vicious back-hander which I failed to entirely avoid. The next few minutes were delicious. It was a straight left against a slogging ruffian. I emerged as you see me. Mr. Woodley went home in a cart. So ended my country trip, and it must be confessed that, however enjoyable, my day on the Surrey border has not been much more profitable than your own."
The Thursday brought us another letter from our client.
"You will not be surprised, Mr. Holmes," said she, "to hear that I am leaving Mr. Carruthers's employment. Even the high pay cannot reconcile me to the discomforts of my situation. On Saturday I come up to town and I do not intend to return. Mr. Carruthers has got a trap, and so the dangers of the lonely road, if there ever were any dangers, are now over.
"As to the special cause of my leaving, it is not merely the strained situation with Mr. Carruthers, but it is the reappearance of that odious man, Mr. Woodley. He was always hideous, but he looks more awful than ever now, for he appears to have had an accident and he is much disfigured. I saw him out of the window, but I am glad to say I did not meet him. He had a long talk with Mr. Carruthers, who seemed much excited afterwards. Woodley must be staying in the neighbourhood, for he did not sleep here, and yet I caught a glimpse of him again this morning slinking about in the shrubbery. I would sooner have a savage wild animal loose about the place. I loathe and fear him more than I can say. How CAN Mr. Carruthers endure such a creature for a moment? However, all my troubles will be over on Saturday."
"So I trust, Watson; so I trust," said Holmes, gravely. "There is some deep intrigue going on round that little woman, and it is our duty to see that no one molests her upon that last journey. I think, Watson, that we must spare time to run down together on Saturday morning, and make sure that this curious and inconclusive investigation has no untoward ending."
I confess that I had not up to now taken a very serious view of the case, which had seemed to me rather grotesque and bizarre than dangerous. That a man should lie in wait for and follow a very handsome woman is no unheard-of thing, and if he had so little audacity that he not only dared not address her, but even fled from her approach, he was not a very formidable assailant. The ruffian Woodley was a very different person, but, except on one occasion, he had not molested our client, and now he visited the house of Carruthers without intruding upon her presence. The man on the bicycle was doubtless a member of those week-end parties at the Hall of which the publican had spoken; but who he was or what he wanted was as obscure as ever. It was the severity of Holmes's manner and the fact that he slipped a revolver into his pocket before leaving our rooms which impressed me with the feeling that tragedy might prove to lurk behind this curious train of events.
A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and the heath-covered country-side with the glowing clumps of flowering gorse seemed all the more beautiful to eyes which were weary of the duns and drabs and slate-greys of London. Holmes and I walked along the broad, sandy road inhaling the fresh morning air, and rejoicing in the music of the birds and the fresh breath of the spring. From a rise of the road on the shoulder of Crooksbury Hill we could see the grim Hall bristling out from amidst the ancient oaks, which, old as they were, were still younger than the building which they surrounded. Holmes pointed down the long tract of road which wound, a reddish yellow band, between the brown of the heath and the budding green of the woods. Far away, a black dot, we could see a vehicle moving in our direction. Holmes gave an exclamation of impatience.
"I had given a margin of half an hour," said he. "If that is her trap she must be making for the earlier train. I fear, Watson, that she will be past Charlington before we can possibly meet her."
From the instant that we passed the rise we could no longer see the vehicle, but we hastened onwards at such a pace that my sedentary life began to tell upon me, and I was compelled to fall behind. Holmes, however, was always in training, for he had inexhaustible stores of nervous energy upon which to draw. His springy step never slowed until suddenly, when he was a hundred yards in front of me, he halted, and I saw him throw up his hand with a gesture of grief and despair. At the same instant an empty dog-cart, the horse cantering, the reins trailing, appeared round the curve of the road and rattled swiftly towards us.
"Too late, Watson; too late!" cried Holmes, as I ran panting to his side. "Fool that I was not to allow for that earlier train! It's abduction, Watson -- abduction! Murder! Heaven knows what! Block the road! Stop the horse! That's right. Now, jump in, and let us see if I can repair the consequences of my own blunder."
We had sprung into the dog-cart, and Holmes, after turning the horse, gave it a sharp cut with the whip, and we flew back along the road. As we turned the curve the whole stretch of road between the Hall and the heath was opened up. I grasped Holmes's arm.
"That's the man!" I gasped.
A solitary cyclist was coming towards us. His head was down and his shoulders rounded as he put every ounce of energy that he possessed on to the pedals. He was flying like a racer. Suddenly he raised his bearded face, saw us close to him, and pulled up, springing from his machine. That coal-black beard was in singular contrast to the pallor of his face, and his eyes were as bright as if he had a fever. He stared at us and at the dog-cart. Then a look of amazement came over his face.
"Halloa! Stop there!" he shouted, holding his bicycle to block our road. "Where did you get that dog-cart? Pull up, man!" he yelled, drawing a pistol from his side pocket. "Pull up, I say, or, by George, I'll put a bullet into your horse."
Holmes threw the reins into my lap and sprang down from the cart.
"You're the man we want to see. Where is Miss Violet Smith?" he said, in his quick, clear way.
"That's what I am asking you. You're in her dog-cart. You ought to know where she is."
"We met the dog-cart on the road. There was no one in it. We drove back to help the young lady."
"Good Lord! Good Lord! what shall I do?" cried the stranger, in an ecstasy of despair. "They've got her, that hellhound Woodley and the blackguard parson. Come, man, come, if you really are her friend. Stand by me and we'll save her, if I have to leave my carcass in Charlington Wood."
He ran distractedly, his pistol in his hand, towards a gap in the hedge. Holmes followed him, and I, leaving the horse grazing beside the road, followed Holmes.
"This is where they came through," said he, pointing to the marks of several feet upon the muddy path. "Halloa! Stop a minute! Who's this in the bush?"
It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed like an ostler, with leather cords and gaiters. He lay upon his back, his knees drawn up, a terrible cut upon his head. He was insensible, but alive. A glance at his wound told me that it had not penetrated the bone.
"That's Peter, the groom," cried the stranger. "He drove her. The beasts have pulled him off and clubbed him. Let him lie; we can't do him any good, but we may save her from the worst fate that can befall a woman."
We ran frantically down the path, which wound among the trees. We had reached the shrubbery which surrounded the house when Holmes pulled up.
"They didn't go to the house. Here are their marks on the left -- here, beside the laurel bushes! Ah, I said so!"
As he spoke a woman's shrill scream -- a scream which vibrated with a frenzy of horror -- burst from the thick green clump of bushes in front of us. It ended suddenly on its highest note with a choke and a gurgle.
"This way! This way! They are in the bowling alley," cried the stranger, darting through the bushes. "Ah, the cowardly dogs! Follow me, gentlemen! Too late! too late! by the living Jingo!"
We had broken suddenly into a lovely glade of greensward surrounded by ancient trees. On the farther side of it, under the shadow of a mighty oak, there stood a singular group of three people. One was a woman, our client, drooping and faint, a handkerchief round her mouth. Opposite her stood a brutal, heavy-faced, red-moustached young man, his gaitered legs parted wide, one arm akimbo, the other waving a riding-crop, his whole attitude suggestive of triumphant bravado. Between them an elderly, grey-bearded man, wearing a short surplice over a light tweed suit, had evidently just completed the wedding service, for he pocketed his prayer-book as we appeared and slapped the sinister bridegroom upon the back in jovial congratulation.
"They're married!" I gasped.
"Come on!" cried our guide; "come on!" He rushed across the glade, Holmes and I at his heels. As we approached, the lady staggered against the trunk of the tree for support. Williamson, the ex-clergyman, bowed to us with mock politeness, and the bully Woodley advanced with a shout of brutal and exultant laughter.
"You can take your beard off, Bob," said he. "I know you right enough. Well, you and your pals have just come in time for me to be able to introduce you to Mrs. Woodley."
Our guide's answer was a singular one. He snatched off the dark beard which had disguised him and threw it on the ground, disclosing a long, sallow, clean-shaven face below it. Then he raised his revolver and covered the young ruffian, who was advancing upon him with his dangerous riding-crop swinging in his hand.
"Yes," said our ally, "I AM Bob Carruthers, and I'll see this woman righted if I have to swing for it. I told you what I'd do if you molested her, and, by the Lord, I'll be as good as my word!"
"You're too late. She's my wife!"
"No, she's your widow."
His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt from the front of Woodley's waistcoat. He spun round with a scream and fell upon his back, his hideous red face turning suddenly to a dreadful mottled pallor. The old man, still clad in his surplice, burst into such a string of foul oaths as I have never heard, and pulled out a revolver of his own, but before he could raise it he was looking down the barrel of Holmes's weapon.
"Enough of this," said my friend, coldly. "Drop that pistol! Watson, pick it up! Hold it to his head! Thank you. You, Carruthers, give me that revolver. We'll have no more violence. Come, hand it over!"
"Who are you, then?"
"My name is Sherlock Holmes."
"Good Lord!"
"You have heard of me, I see. I will represent the official police until their arrival. Here, you!" he shouted to a frightened groom who had appeared at the edge of the glade. "Come here. Take this note as hard as you can ride to Farnham." He scribbled a few words upon a leaf from his note-book. "Give it to the superintendent at the police-station. Until he comes I must detain you all under my personal custody."
The strong, masterful personality of Holmes dominated the tragic scene, and all were equally puppets in his hands. Williamson and Carruthers found themselves carrying the wounded Woodley into the house, and I gave my arm to the frightened girl. The injured man was laid on his bed, and at Holmes's request I examined him. I carried my report to where he sat in the old tapestry-hung dining-room with his two prisoners before him.
"He will live," said I.
"What!" cried Carruthers, springing out of his chair. "I'll go upstairs and finish him first. Do you tell me that that girl, that angel, is to be tied to Roaring Jack Woodley for life?"
"You need not concern yourself about that," said Holmes. "There are two very good reasons why she should under no circumstances be his wife. In the first place, we are very safe in questioning Mr. Williamson's right to solemnize a marriage."
"I have been ordained," cried the old rascal.
"And also unfrocked."
"Once a clergyman, always a clergyman."
"I think not. How about the license?"
"We had a license for the marriage. I have it here in my pocket."
"Then you got it by a trick. But in any case a forced marriage is no marriage, but it is a very serious felony, as you will discover before you have finished. You'll have time to think the point out during the next ten years or so, unless I am mistaken. As to you, Carruthers, you would have done better to keep your pistol in your pocket."
"I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes; but when I thought of all the precaution I had taken to shield this girl -- for I loved her, Mr. Holmes, and it is the only time that ever I knew what love was -- it fairly drove me mad to think that she was in the power of the greatest brute and bully in South Africa, a man whose name is a holy terror from Kimberley to Johannesburg. Why, Mr. Holmes, you'll hardly believe it, but ever since that girl has been in my employment I never once let her go past this house, where I knew these rascals were lurking, without following her on my bicycle just to see that she came to no harm. I kept my distance from her, and I wore a beard so that she should not recognise me, for she is a good and high-spirited girl, and she wouldn't have stayed in my employment long if she had thought that I was following her about the country roads."
"Why didn't you tell her of her danger?"
"Because then, again, she would have left me, and I couldn't bear to face that. Even if she couldn't love me it was a great deal to me just to see her dainty form about the house, and to hear the sound of her voice."
"Well," said I, "you call that love, Mr. Carruthers, but I should call it selfishness."
"Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn't let her go. Besides, with this crowd about, it was well that she should have someone near to look after her. Then when the cable came I knew they were bound to make a move."
"What cable?"
Carruthers took a telegram from his pocket.
"That's it," said he.
It was short and concise:--
"The old man is dead."
"Hum!" said Holmes. "I think I see how things worked, and I can understand how this message would, as you say, bring them to a head. But while we wait you might tell me what you can."
The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volley of bad language.
"By Heaven," said he, "if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers, I'll serve you as you served Jack Woodley. You can bleat about the girl to your heart's content, for that's your own affair, but if you round on your pals to this plain-clothes copper it will be the worst day's work that ever you did."
"Your reverence need not be excited," said Holmes, lighting a cigarette. "The case is clear enough against you, and all I ask is a few details for my private curiosity. However, if there's any difficulty in your telling me I'll do the talking, and then you will see how far you have a chance of holding back your secrets. In the first place, three of you came from South Africa on this game -- you Williamson, you Carruthers, and Woodley."
"Lie number one," said the old man; "I never saw either of them until two months ago, and I have never been in Africa in my life, so you can put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Busybody Holmes!"
"What he says is true," said Carruthers.
"Well, well, two of you came over. His reverence is our own home-made article. You had known Ralph Smith in South Africa. You had reason to believe he would not live long. You found out that his niece would inherit his fortune. How's that -- eh?"
Carruthers nodded and Williamson swore.
"She was next-of-kin, no doubt, and you were aware that the old fellow would make no will."
"Couldn't read or write," said Carruthers.
"So you came over, the two of you, and hunted up the girl. The idea was that one of you was to marry her and the other have a share of the plunder. For some reason Woodley was chosen as the husband. Why was that?"
"We played cards for her on the voyage. He won."
"I see. You got the young lady into your service, and there Woodley was to do the courting. She recognised the drunken brute that he was, and would have nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, your arrangement was rather upset by the fact that you had yourself fallen in love with the lady. You could no longer bear the idea of this ruffian owning her."
"No, by George, I couldn't!"
"There was a quarrel between you. He left you in a rage, and began to make his own plans independently of you."
"It strikes me, Williamson, there isn't very much that we can tell this gentleman," cried Carruthers, with a bitter laugh. "Yes, we quarreled, and he knocked me down. I am level with him on that, anyhow. Then I lost sight of him. That was when he picked up with this cast padre here. I found that they had set up house-keeping together at this place on the line that she had to pass for the station. I kept my eye on her after that, for I knew there was some devilry in the wind. I saw them from time to time, for I was anxious to know what they were after. Two days ago Woodley came up to my house with this cable, which showed that Ralph Smith was dead. He asked me if I would stand by the bargain. I said I would not. He asked me if I would marry the girl myself and give him a share. I said I would willingly do so, but that she would not have me. He said, `Let us get her married first, and after a week or two she may see things a bit different.' I said I would have nothing to do with violence. So he went off cursing, like the foul-mouthed blackguard that he was, and swearing that he would have her yet. She was leaving me this week-end, and I had got a trap to take her to the station, but I was so uneasy in my mind that I followed her on my bicycle. She had got a start, however, and before I could catch her the mischief was done. The first thing I knew about it was when I saw you two gentlemen driving back in her dog-cart."
Holmes rose and tossed the end of his cigarette into the grate. "I have been very obtuse, Watson," said he. "When in your report you said that you had seen the cyclist as you thought arrange his necktie in the shrubbery, that alone should have told me all. However, we may congratulate ourselves upon a curious and in some respects a unique case. I perceive three of the county constabulary in the drive, and I am glad to see that the little ostler is able to keep pace with them; so it is likely that neither he nor the interesting bridegroom will be permanently damaged by their morning's adventures. I think, Watson, that in your medical capacity you might wait upon Miss Smith and tell her that if she is sufficiently recovered we shall be happy to escort her to her mother's home. If she is not quite convalescent you will find that a hint that we were about to telegraph to a young electrician in the Midlands would probably complete the cure. As to you, Mr. Carruthers, I think that you have done what you could to make amends for your share in an evil plot. There is my card, sir, and if my evidence can be of help to you in your trial it shall be at your disposal."
In the whirl of our incessant activity it has often been difficult for me, as the reader has probably observed, to round off my narratives, and to give those final details which the curious might expect. Each case has been the prelude to another, and the crisis once over the actors have passed for ever out of our busy lives. I find, however, a short note at the end of my manuscripts dealing with this case, in which I have put it upon record that Miss Violet Smith did indeed inherit a large fortune, and that she is now the wife of Cyril Morton, the senior partner of Morton & Kennedy, the famous Westminster electricians. Williamson and Woodley were both tried for abduction and assault, the former getting seven years and the latter ten. Of the fate of Carruthers I have no record, but I am sure that his assault was not viewed very gravely by the Court, since Woodley had the reputation of being a most dangerous ruffian, and I think that a few months were sufficient to satisfy the demands of justice.
我翻阅了一五年的笔记，查出是四月二十三日，星期六，我们第一次听维奥莱特·史密斯谈自己的事。我记得福尔摩斯对她的来访极不欢迎，因为那时他正全神贯注于一件十分难解的错综复杂的问题，这个问题涉及著名的烟草大王约翰·文森特·哈登所遭遇的特殊难题。我的朋友最喜欢的事就是准确和思想集中，在办手头的事情时，最厌烦别的事来打扰他。尽管如此，但他生性并不固执生硬，不可能拒绝那位身材苗条、仪态万方、神色庄重的美貌姑娘来讲述她的遭遇，何况她又是在这么晚的晚上亲自来贝克街恳请他帮助和指点的。尽管福尔摩斯声明时间已经排满，但也无济于事，因为那姑娘下定决心非讲不可。很明显，她不达到目的，要想使她离开除非动武。福尔摩斯显出无可奈何的神色，勉强地笑了笑，请那位美丽的不速之客坐下，把她遇到的麻烦事如实地讲给我们听。
“至少不会是一件有碍你身体健康的事，"福尔摩斯用那双敏锐的眼睛把她周身打量了一番说道，“象你这样爱骑车的人，一定是精力充沛的。”
她惊异地看看自己的双脚，我也发现了她鞋底一边被脚蹬子边缘磨得起毛了。
“是的，我经常骑自行车，福尔摩斯先生，我今天来拜访你，正是和骑车的事情有关系呢。”
我的朋友拿起这姑娘没戴手套的那只手，象科学家看标本那样，全神贯注而不动声色地检查着。
“我相信，你会原谅我的。这是我的业务，"福尔摩斯把姑娘的手放下，说道，"我几乎错把你当成打字员了。显而易见，你当然是一位音乐家。华生，你注意到那两种职业所共有的勺形指端吗？不过，她脸上有一种风采，"那女子平静地把脸转向亮处，"那是打字员所不具备的。所以，这位女士是音乐家。”
“是的，福尔摩斯先生，我教音乐。”
“从你的脸色来看，我想你是在乡下教音乐。”
“是的，先生，靠近法纳姆，在萨里边界。”
“是一个好地方，可以使人联想到许多有趣的事情。华生，你一定记得我们就是在那附近拿获了伪造货币犯阿尔奇·斯坦福德。嗯，维奥莱特小姐，靠近法纳姆，在萨里边界，你遇到什么事了？”
那位姑娘十分清楚明白、镇静自若地说出下面这一段古怪离奇的事情来：
“福尔摩斯先生，我父亲已经去世了。他叫詹姆斯·史密斯，是老帝国剧院的乐队指挥。我和母亲在世上举目无亲，我只有一个叔父，他名叫拉尔夫·史密斯，于二十五年前到非洲去了，从那时期音信全无。父亲死后，我们一譬如洗，可是有一天人家告诉我们，《泰晤士报》登了一则广告，询问我们的下落。你可以想象我们是多么激动啊，因为我们想这是有人给我们留下遗产了。我们立即按报上登的姓名去找那位律师，在那里又遇到了两位先生，卡拉瑟斯和伍德利，他们是从南非回来探家的。他们说我叔父是他们的朋友，几个月以前在十分贫困中死于约翰内斯堡。我叔父临终之前，请他们去找他的亲属，并务必使他的亲属不至穷困潦倒。这似乎使我们很奇怪，我叔父拉尔夫活着的时候，并不关心我们，而在他死时却那么精心关照我们。可是卡拉瑟斯先生解释说，因为我叔父刚刚听到他哥哥的死讯，所以感到对我们的命运负有重大责任。”
“请原谅，"福尔摩斯说道，"你们是什么时候见面的？”
“去年十二月，已有四个月了。”
“请继续讲下去吧。”
“我看伍德利先生讨厌得很，他是一个面孔虚胖、一脸红胡子的粗暴的青年，头发披散在额头两边，总是向我挤眉弄眼。我认为他十分可憎，我相信西里尔一定不乐意我认识这个人。”
“噢，西里尔是他的名字！"福尔摩斯笑容满面地说道。
那姑娘满面通红，笑了笑。
“是的，福尔摩斯先生，西里尔·莫顿，是一个电气工程师，我们希望在夏末结婚。哎呀，我怎么扯其他来了呢？我想说伍德利先生十分讨厌，而那位年纪老些的卡拉瑟斯先生可比较有礼貌。虽然他脸色土黄，脸刮得光光的，沉默寡言，但举止文雅，笑容可掬。他询问了我们的境况，发现我们很穷困，便要我到他那里教他那十岁的独生女儿。我说我不愿离开母亲，他说我可以在每周末回家去看她。他答应给我每年一百镑，这当然是十分优厚的酬金了。所以最后我答应了，来到离法纳姆六英里左右的奇尔特恩农庄。卡拉瑟斯先生丧妻鳏居，他雇用了一个叫狄克逊太太的女管家来照料家事，这位老妇人老成持重，令人品敬。那个孩子也很可爱，一切也都如意。卡拉瑟斯先生十分和善，热衷于音乐，我们晚上在一起过得很高兴，每逢周末我回城里家中看望母亲。
“在我的快乐生活中，头一件不顺心的事就是一脸红胡子的伍德利先生的到来。他来访一个星期，哎呀！对我来说简直如同三个月。他是一个可怕的人，对别人横行霸道，对我更肆无忌惮。他作了许多丑态表示爱我，吹嘘他的财富，说如果我嫁给他，我就可以得到伦敦最漂亮的钻石。最后，当我始终对他不加理睬时，有一天饭后他抓住我把我抱在怀里——他有可恶的牛劲——发誓说如果我不吻他，他就不放手。这时正好卡拉瑟斯先生进屋，把他从我身边拉开。为了这事，伍德利和东道主翻了脸，把卡拉瑟斯在地，脸上弄出个大口子。伍德利的来访至此结束，第二天卡拉瑟斯先生向我道歉，并保证绝不让我再受这样的。从那以后我再没见到伍德利先生。
“现在，福尔摩斯先生，我终于谈到今天来向你请教的具体事情上了。你一定知道，我每星期六上午骑车到法纳姆车站，赶十二点二十二分的火车进城。我从奇尔特恩农庄出来，那条路很偏僻，有一段尤其荒凉，这一段有一英里多长，一边是查林顿石南灌木地带，另一边是查林顿庄园外圈的树林。你再也找不到比这段路更荒凉的地方了。在你没有到达靠近克鲁克斯伯里山公路以前，极难遇到一辆马车、一个农民。两星期以前，我从这地方经过，偶然回头一望，见身后两百码左右有个男人在骑车，看起来是个中年人，蓄着短短的黑胡子。在到法纳姆以前，我又回头一看，那人已经消失，所以我也没再想这件事。不过，福尔摩斯先生，我星期一返回时又在那段路上看到那个人。你可想而知我该多么惊奇了。而下一个星期六和星期一，又和上次丝毫不差，这事又重演了一遍，我愈发惊异不止了。那个人始终保持一定距离，决不打扰我，不过这毕竟十分古怪。我把这事告诉了卡拉瑟斯先生，他看来十分重视我说的事，告诉我他已经订购了一骑马和一辆轻便马车，所以将来我再过那段偏僻道路时，不愁没有伴侣了。
“马和轻便马车本来应该在这个星期就到，可不知什么原因，卖主没有交货，我只好还是骑车到火车站。这是今天早晨的事。我来到查林顿石南灌木地带，向远处一看，一点也不错，那人就在那地方，和两个星期以前一模一样。他总是离我很远，我看不清他的脸，但肯定不是我认识的人。他穿一身黑衣服，戴布帽。我只能看清他脸上的黑胡子。今天我不害怕了，而是满腹疑团，我决心查明他是什么人，要干什么事。我放慢了我的车速，他也放慢了他的车速。后来我停车不骑了，他也停车不骑了。于是我心生一计来对付他。路上有一处急转弯，我便紧蹬一阵拐过弯去，然后停车等候他。我指望他很快拐过弯来，并且来不及停车，超到我前面去。但他根本没露面。我便返回去，向转弯处四处张望。我可以望见一英里的路程，可是路上不见他的踪影。尤其令人惊异的是，这地方并没有岔路，他是无法走开的。”
福尔摩斯轻声一笑，搓着双手。"这件事确实有它的特色，"他说道，"从你转过弯去到你发现路上无人，这中间有多久？”
“二、三分钟吧。”
“那他来不及从原路退走，你说那里没有岔路吗？”
“没有。”
“那他肯定是从路旁人行小径走开的。”
“不可能从石南灌木地段那一侧，不然我早就看到他了。”
“那么，按照排除推理法，我们就查明了一个事实，他向查林顿庄园那一侧去了，据我所知，查林顿庄园宅基就在大路一侧。还有其它情况吗？”
“没有了，福尔摩斯先生，只是我十分惶惑莫解，感到极不愉快，所以才来见你，求得你的指点。”
福尔摩斯默默不语地坐了一会儿。
“和你订婚的那位先生在什么地方？"福尔摩斯终于问道。
“他在考文垂的米得兰电气公司。”
“他不会出其不意地来看你吧？”
“噢，福尔摩斯先生！难道我还不认识他！”
“还有其他爱慕你的男人吗？”
“在我认识西里尔以前有过几个。”
“从那时以后呢？”
“假如你把伍德利也算做一个爱慕我的人的话，那就是那个可怕的人了。”
“没有别的人了吗？”
我们那位美丽的委托人似乎有点为难。
“他是谁呢？"福尔摩斯问道。
“噢，可能纯粹是我胡思乱想；可是有时我似乎觉得我的雇主卡拉瑟斯先生对我十分有意。我们经常相遇，晚上我给他伴奏，他从来没说过什么。他是一位很好的先生，可是一个姑娘总是心里明白的。”
“哈！"福尔摩斯显得十分严肃，"他以什么为生呢？”
“他是一个富有的人。”
“他没有四轮马车或者马匹吗？”
“啊，至少他生活相当富裕。他每星期进城两三次，十分关心南非的黄金股票。”
“史密斯小姐，你要把新发现的一切情况告诉我。现在我很忙，不过我一定抽时间来查办你这件案子。在这期间，不要没通知我就采取行动。再见，我相信我们会得到你的好消息。”
“这样的一位姑娘会有一些追求者，这是很自然的，"福尔摩斯沉思地抽着烟斗说道，“不过不要选偏僻村路骑自行车去追逐嘛。毫无疑问是一个偷偷爱上她的人。可是这件案子里有一些颇为奇怪和引人深思的细节，华生。”
“你是说他竟然只在那个地方出现吗？”
“不错。我们要做的第一件事就是查明谁租用了查林顿庄园。然后再查明卡拉瑟斯和伍德利究竟是什么关系，因为他俩是完全不同类型的人啊。他俩为什么急于查访拉尔夫·史密斯的亲属呢？还有一点，卡拉瑟斯家离车站六英里远，连一骑马都不买，却偏偏要出两倍代价来雇一名家庭女教师，这是一种什么样的治家之道呢？奇怪，华生，十分奇怪！”
“你下去调查吗？”
“不，我亲爱的朋友，你下去调查好了。这可能是一件无足挂齿的小阴谋，我不能为它中断别的重大调查工作。星期一你一早到法纳姆去，要隐藏在查林顿石南地带附近，亲自观察这些事实。根据自己的判断见机行事，然后，查明是谁住在查林顿庄园，回来向我报告。现在，华生，在弄到几件可靠的证据，有希望用于结案前，我对这件事没有别的话好讲的了。”
那姑娘告诉我们她星期一九点五十分从滑铁卢车站乘车出发，所以我便提早出发赶乘九点十三分的火车。到法纳姆车站，我毫不费力地问明了查林顿地带。要错过那姑娘的遇险地带是不可能的，因为那段路一边是开阔的石南灌木地带，另一边是老紫杉树篱，环绕着一座花园，花园里巨树参天。庄园有个长满地衣的石子路，大门两侧的石柱上满是破烂的纹章图案。除了中间行车的石子路之外，我发现几处树篱有豁口，有小路穿入。从路上看不到宅院，四周的环境都显得阴暗、衰颓。
石南地带开满一丛丛的黄色金雀花，在灿烂的春日骄阳下闪闪发光。我在灌木丛后选好隐身之处，以便既能观察庄园大门，又能看到两边长长的一大段路。我离开大路时，路上空无一人，现在有个人品着车从对面向我来的方向奔去。他穿着黑色服装，我见他蓄有黑胡子。他来到查林顿宅地尽头，跳下车来，把车推进树篱的一处豁口，在我的视线中消失了。
过了一刻钟，第二个骑自行车的人出现了。这次是那位姑娘从火车站来。我见她骑到查林顿树篱时四下张望。过了一会儿，那男人从藏身处走出来，跳上自行车，尾随着她。在那辽阔的如画风景中，只有这两个人影在活动。那位仪态端庄的姑娘笔直地A骑在车上，她身后的男人却低伏在车把上，一举一动都带有莫名其妙的鬼鬼祟祟的形迹。她回头看到他，便放慢了速度。他也放慢了速度。姑娘下了车，他也立即下车，在她身后有二百码的距离。那姑娘的下一步动作却是出奇不意地迅猛，她突然扭转车头紧蹬一阵，径直向他冲了过去。然而，他也象那姑娘一样迅速，不顾一切拼命地逃脱了。她又立刻返回大路，傲然地昂着头，不屑再去置理那不声不响的尾随者了。他也转过身来，依然保持着那段距离，直到转过大路我看不到他们为止。
我依然呆在藏身之处，这样作是很恰当的，因为那个男人马上又露面了，他不慌不忙地骑车返回来。他拐进庄园大门，下了车。我看他在树丛中站了几分钟，举起双手，似乎在整理他的领带。然后又上车从我身旁经过，向对着庄园的车道骑去。我跑出石南灌木地带，从树林缝隙望过去，可以隐约看到远处那座古老的灰楼和它那些矗立的都铎式烟囱，可惜那条车道穿过一片浓密的灌木丛，我再也看不到那个人了。
不过，我看我已经作了一件漂亮事，便兴致勃勃地徒步走回法纳姆。关于查林顿庄园，当地房产经纪人什么也说不出来，只好把我介绍到帕尔马尔的一家著名的公司。我在回家途中到那里停留了一阵，受到经纪人的殷勤接待。不行，我不能租用查林顿庄园避暑了，我来得太晚了，庄园一个月以前已经租出去，租给了一个叫威廉森先生的人。他是一个体面的老先生。那位颇有礼貌的经纪人客气地说他不能再告诉我什么了，因为他不能议论他顾主的事。
那天晚上，歇洛克·福尔摩斯先生注意地倾听了我向他作的冗长的报告。我本来期望受到称赞，而且很重视他的称赞，可是连一句赞许的话也没有听到。恰恰相反，在他评论我做过的事和没有做到的事时，他那严峻的面容甚至比平时更加严肃。
“我亲爱的华生，你那藏身之地是非常失算的。你本来应该藏到树篱后面，仔细看看那位有趣的人。事实上，你藏的地方离那儿几百码，告诉我的情况甚至比史密斯小姐还要少。她认为她不认识那个人，我确信她是认识的。要不然，他为什么那样拼死拼活地担心，生怕那姑娘走近他，看清了他的面貌呢？你说他伏身在自行车把上，你看，这不又是为了隐藏面目吗？你确实作得十分不妙。他回到了那所宅院，你要查明他是谁，却跑到一个伦敦房产经纪人那里！”
“那我应该怎么办呢？"我有点头脑发热地高声喊道。
“到离那儿最近的酒店里去，那里是村上扯闲话的中心。人家会告诉你每一个人的名字，从主人到帮厨的女仆。至于威廉森吗，我一点印象也没有。假如他是老年人，那么他就不是那个灵敏的骑车人，不是在那个姑娘迅速敏捷的追赶下翩然逃脱的人。你这次远行的收获是什么呢？知道了那姑娘所讲的是真事，这我从来都不怀疑。知道了骑车人和庄园有关系这我同样不曾怀疑过。知道了那庄园是由威廉森租用的。谁又能为这作保证呢？好了，好了，我亲爱的先生，不要显得那么灰心丧气。星期六以前我们还可以多干点事，这段时间我还可以亲自做一两次调查。”
第二天早晨，我们接到史密斯小姐一封短信，简要而又准确地重述了我亲眼看到的那件事，可是信的主旨却留在附言中。
当我告诉你我在这里的处境已经变得很困难时，我相信你会考虑我所吐露的秘密，这是由于我的雇主已经向我求婚这样一个事实。我相信他的感情是十分深厚而且高尚的。这时，我当然把我已经订婚的事告诉了他。他把我的拒绝看得非常严重，但又十分和气。然而，你可以理解，我的处境是有些尴尬了。
“我们的年轻朋友看起来陷入了困境，"福尔摩斯看完信后，若有所思地说道，"这件案子肯定比我原来设想的有趣得多，发展的可能性也多得多。我还是应当到乡下去过一天安静太平日子，我打算今天下午就去，并且把我所形成的一两点想法检验一下。”
福尔摩斯在乡下度过的安静日子，结局是很奇特的，因为他晚间很晚才回到贝克街，嘴唇划破了，额头上还青肿了一大块，还有那种狼狈样子，好象是一个苏格兰场调查的对象。他对自己的历险感到非常高兴，一边讲述，一边出自内心地哈哈大笑。
“积极的锻炼总是有用的，可惜我锻炼的不多。"福尔摩斯说道，"你知道，我精通一些优秀的英国旧式拳击运动，并且偶尔用得上它，比如说，今天，要是没有这一手，那我就要遭到非常可耻的惨败了。”
我请他告诉我发生了什么事。
“我到了请你注意过的那个乡村酒店，在那里小心谨慎地进行调查。在酒吧间里，饶舌的店主把我所要知道的一切都告诉了我。威廉森是一个白胡子老头，他和少数几个仆人住在庄园里。传说他现在是或过去当过牧师，可是在庄园这段短时间，有一两件小事使我觉得他很不象牧师。我查询过一个牧师机构，他们告诉我，曾经有一个叫这名字的牧师，但他过去的行径极不光彩。那店主接着告诉我，庄园里每到周末总有一些来客——'是一伙下流坯，先生'——特别是一个蓄红胡子的人，名叫伍德利的，总少不了他。我们正谈到这里，那位伍德利先生竟然走了过来，他一直在酒吧间喝啤酒，把我们的话全都听去了。他问我是什么人？我要干什么？我问这些问题是什么意思？他口若悬河，修饰语满口都是。他最后谩骂了一通，凶恶地反手一击，我没有来得及躲避。后来的几分钟就很有趣了。我给那凶恶的暴徒一连串的打击。我就成了你看到的这种样子。伍德利先生乘车回去了。我这场乡村旅行也就这样告终了。必须承认，不管多么有趣，我这一天萨里边界之行并不比你的收获大。”
星期四那天我们又收到那位委托人的一封信。她写道：
福尔摩斯先生，你听到我就要辞去卡拉瑟斯先生的雇聘，不会感到惊奇吧。即使报酬优厚，我也不甘心忍受这尴尬的处境。我在星期六回城里，不打算再回来了。卡拉瑟斯先生已备好一辆马车，因此，如果说过去路上有什么危险的话，那么偏僻车路上的危险现在已经不存在了。
至于我辞聘的具体原因，不单是我和卡拉瑟斯先生的尴尬处境，而且是那个令人嫌恶的人伍德利先生又来了。他本来可怕，现在的嘴脸更可怕了。因为他好象出了什么事，所以更加不象样子了。我是从窗子里面看到他的，我很高兴说，我并没有碰上他。他和卡拉瑟斯先生谈了很长时间，从此以后卡拉瑟斯先生非常激动。伍德利一定居住在附近，因为他并没有住在卡拉瑟斯家里。今早我又看到他在灌木丛中鬼鬼祟祟地活动。我不久就会在这地方碰到这头凶猛的吃人野兽，简直说不出是多么憎恨和害怕了。卡拉瑟斯先生怎么竟能容忍这样的一个家伙？一刻也容忍不得啊！不过，我的一切麻烦到星期六就要结束了。
“我相信是这样的，华生，我相信是这样的，"福尔摩斯严肃地说道，“围绕着这位小姑娘正进行着一场极为隐秘的阴谋，我们有责任去一趟，不让任何人在她最后一次旅行中骚扰她。华生，我想星期六早晨我们一定抽时间一起去，以便保证我们这次奇异而广泛的调查不致遭受不幸的结局。”
我承认直到现在我还没有十分看重这件案子，在我看来其中并没有什么危险，只不过有些荒诞、古怪而已。男人埋伏着等待漂亮的女人并且尾随她，这并不是什么闻所未闻的事，如果他只有那么一点点放肆，不仅不敢向她求爱，而在她接近他的时候，反而逃跑，那他就不是十分可怕的暴徒。那个恶棍伍德利则又当别论。可是，除了那一次之外，他再没有骚扰过我们的委托人，近来他到过卡拉瑟斯家，可也没有闯到她面前。那个骑车人无疑是酒店老板所说的周末聚会的成员。可他是什么人呢，他要干什么呢？却依然模糊不清。福尔摩斯的严肃表情，他离开我们房间以前，把一只手枪塞到衣袋里，这些都使我感到，这一连串怪事后面可能隐藏着悲剧。
夜雨之后，早晨阳光灿烂，长满石南灌木丛的农村，点缀着一丛丛盛开的金雀花，闪闪金光，对厌倦伦敦那阴郁灰暗色调的人来说，显得更加美丽，不觉耳目一新。福尔摩斯和我漫步在宽阔而多沙的道路上，呼吸着清晨的新鲜空气，欣赏着鸟语花香，到处一派欣欣向荣的春意。我们从克鲁克斯伯里山巅的大路高处，可以看到那座不祥的庄园耸立在古老的橡树丛中。橡树本来够古老的了，可是比起橡树环抱的建筑物来，却依然显得年轻。福尔摩斯指着长长的一段路，在那棕褐色的石南灌木丛和一片嫩绿的树林之间，宛如一条红黄色的带子。远处，出现一个小黑点，可以看出是一辆单马马车在向我们这个方向移动。福尔摩斯焦急地惊呼了一声。
“我差了半个小时，"福尔摩斯说道，“假如这是她的马车，她一定是在赶乘早些的列车。华生，恐怕我们来不及会她，她早就经过查林顿了。”
这时，我们过了大路高处，已经看不到那辆马车了，可是我们加速向前赶路，速度之快，使我开始露出平日安坐为生的坏处，因而不得不落到后面。然而，福尔摩斯一直锻炼有素，因为他有用之不竭的旺盛精力。他那轻快的脚步一直没有放慢，突然，他在我前面一百码的地方停止了脚步。我看见他举起一只手作了一个失败而绝望的手势。与此同时，一辆空马车拐过大路的转弯处，那骑马缰绳拖地，慢步小跑，马车吱吱嘎嘎地向我们迎面驶来。
“太晚了，华生，太晚了！"在我气喘吁吁地跑到福尔摩斯身旁时，他大声喊道，"我真愚蠢，怎么没有想到她要赶那趟早些的列车！一定是劫持，华生，是劫持！是谋杀！天知道是什么！把路挡上！把马拦住！这就对了。喂，跳上车，看看我们能否补救自己的大错造成的后果。”
我们跳上马车，福尔摩斯调过马头，狠狠给了那马一鞭子，我们便顺大路往回疾驰。在我们转过弯时，庄园和石南地段间的整个大路都展现在眼前。我抓住了福尔摩斯的胳膊。
“就是那个人！"我气喘吁吁地说。
一个无伴骑车人向我们冲过来。他低着头，双肩滚圆，把全身气力都用在脚蹬子上，象赛车的人一样蹬得飞快。突然他抬起满是胡子的脸，见我们近在眼前，便停下车，从自行车上跳下来，他那乌黑的胡子和苍白的脸色形成鲜明的对照。他双目闪亮，仿佛正在极度兴奋之中。他瞪眼瞅着我们和那辆马车，然后脸上显出惊异的神色。
“喂！停下！"他大声喊道，用他的自行车把我们的路挡住，"你们在哪儿弄到的这辆马车？嗨，停下！"他从侧面口袋中掏出手枪咆哮道，"告诉你，停下，要不然，我可真的要赏你那骑马一颗子弹了。”
福尔摩斯把缰绳扔到我腿上，从马车上跳下来。
“你正是我们要见的人，维奥莱特·史密斯小姐在哪里？”福尔摩斯连忙清晰地问道。
“我正要问你们呢。你们坐的是她的马车，应当知道她在哪儿。”
“我们在路上碰到这辆马车，上面没有人，我们才把车赶回来去救那位姑娘。”
“天哪！天哪！我怎么办哪？"那个陌生人绝望地喊道，"他们把她抓走了，那个该死的伍德利和那个恶棍牧师！快来，先生，假如你们真是她的朋友，那就快来。帮我一同搭救她吧，我横尸查林顿森林也在所不惜！”
他提着手枪向树篱的一个豁口疯狂跑去，福尔摩斯紧跟在后，我把马放到路旁吃草，也跟在福尔摩斯身后跑过去。
“他们是从这儿穿过去的，"陌生人指着泥泞小路上的足迹说道，"喂！停一下！灌木丛里是什么人？”
那是个十七八岁的小伙子，衣着象马夫，穿着皮裤，打着绑腿。他仰面躺着，双膝蜷曲，头上有一道可怕的伤口，已经失去知觉，不过还有气息。我把他的伤口看了一眼，知道没有伤到骨头。
“这就是马夫彼得，"陌生人喊道，"他就是给那姑娘赶车的。那些畜生把他拉下车来用棍棒打伤了。让他先躺在这儿吧，我们反正救不了他，可是我们却可以从可能落到一个女人身上的最坏厄运中把她搭救出来。”
我们发疯一般向林中盘曲小径奔去，一到环绕着宅院的灌木丛，福尔摩斯就站住了。
“他们没有进宅院。左边有他们的脚印，在这儿，在月桂树丛旁边。啊！我说得不错。”
他正说着，传来一阵女人的尖声哀叫，一种带着极度惊恐的颤声狂呼从我们面前一片浓密的绿色灌木丛中传出来。突然尖声高叫停止了，接着是一阵窒息的咯咯声。
“这边！这边！他们在滚球场，"那陌生人闯过灌木丛，说道，"啊，这些胆小鬼！跟我来，先生们！哎呀！太迟了！太迟了！”
我们猛然闯进古树环绕的一片林间绿草地。草地那一边，在一棵大橡树的树荫下站着三个人。一个是女人，就是我们的委托人，她垂着头，半昏厥过去，嘴上蒙着手帕。她对面站着面貌凶残的红胡子年青人，腿上扎着绑腿，大叉腿站着，一只手叉腰，另一只手里晃动着马鞭，他的整个神情显示出一种洋洋得意的架式。这两个人中间站着一个花白胡子的老家伙，穿浅色花呢衣服，外罩白色短法衣，显然刚做完结婚仪式，因为我们一到，他就把一本祈祷书装进衣袋，并且轻轻拍着那阴险的新郎的后背，兴致勃勃地向他祝福。
“他们在举行婚礼！"我气喘吁吁地说道。
“来！"我们的领路人喊道，"来！"他冲过林中空地，福尔摩斯和我紧紧跟随。在我们冲到姑娘跟前时，她摇摇晃晃地靠在树干上以免摔倒。前牧师威廉森向我们嘲弄地鞠了一躬，而暴徒伍德利却野蛮地大吼一声，得意忘形地狂笑着，向我们冲来。
“你可以把你的胡子摘掉，鲍勃，"他说道，"我认识你，一点不含糊。喂，你和你的同伙来得正是时候，我正好给你们介绍一下伍德利夫人。”
我们那带路人的回答很特别。他一把拉掉用以伪装的黑胡子，把它扔到地上，露出刮得光光的浅黄色长脸。然后举起手枪，对准了那年轻的暴徒，这时，那暴徒正好手挥致命的马鞭向他冲来。
“是的，"我们的伙伴说道，"我就是鲍勃·卡拉瑟斯，我要看到这姑娘安然无恙，否则我只好上吊了。我告诉过你，假如你骚扰了她，我准备怎么办。皇天在上，我说到做到。”
“你太晚了，她已经是我妻子了。”
“不对，她是你的寡妻。”
枪声响了，我看到血从伍德利前心喷出来。他尖叫一声转了一子就仰面倒下了，那丑陋的红脸霎时变成斑驳而又苍白，十分吓人。那老头子依然披着白色的法衣，此时破口大骂，那骂不绝口的肮脏话语，我真是闻所未闻的。他掏出他自己的手枪来，但还没来得及举枪，就看见福尔摩斯的枪口已经对准他了。
“够了，"我的朋友冷冷地说道，"把枪扔下！华生，你把枪拣起来！把枪对准他的头！谢谢你。还有你，卡拉瑟斯，把你的枪也给我。我们用不着再动武了。来，把枪缴了！”
“那么，你是谁？”
“我叫歇洛克·福尔摩斯。”
“啊呀！”
“我看得出，你们早知道我的名字了。在官方警探来到以前，我只好代劳了。喂，你！福尔摩斯向林中空地那边一个吓坏了的马夫喊道，纳姆去。"福尔摩斯从笔记本上撕下一页纸，草草写了几句话，"把这送到署交给警长。在他来到之前，我只好代劳来监护你们了。”
福尔摩斯那坚强的主宰一切的性格在支配着这幕惨剧的场面，所有的人都同样乖乖地听他的摆布。威廉森和卡拉瑟斯把受伤的伍德利抬进屋去，我也扶着那受惊的姑娘。伤者放在床上，我应福尔摩斯的要求对伤者进行了检查。当我向他报告检查结果时，他正坐在挂有壁毯的老式饭厅里，面前坐着受他监护的威廉森和卡拉瑟斯。
“他可以活下来，"我报告说。
“什么！"卡拉瑟斯高声喊道，从椅子上跳下来，"我首先上楼把他结果了再说。你们不是对我说，那个小天使般的姑娘要一辈子受狂徒伍德利的约束吗？”
“这用不着你过问，"福尔摩斯说道，"她根本不成其为他的妻室，这有两条非常充分的理由。第一，我们完全有把握怀疑威廉森主持婚礼的权利。”
“我受任过圣职，"那老无赖喊道。
“早就免去圣职了。”
“一旦做牧师，终身是牧师。”
“我看不行。那么结婚证书呢？”
“我们有结婚证书，就在我衣袋里。”
“照此看来，你们是靠阴谋诡计弄来的。不管怎样来的，反正强迫婚姻绝对不是婚姻，而是十分严重的罪行。在你们完蛋以前，你会悟出这一点的。除非我弄错了，在今后十年左右，你是有时间想通这一点的。至于你，卡拉瑟斯，要是你不从衣袋里掏出枪来，你本来可以干得好一些的。”
“我现在才开始这样想，福尔摩斯先生，可是在我想到我为保护那姑娘所采取的一切预防措施时——因为我爱她，福尔摩斯先生，而这是我有生以来头一次知道什么叫做爱——想到她落入那个南非最残忍的暴徒的魔掌之中，而此人的名字从金伯利到约翰内斯堡人人惧怕，这简直使我发狂。啊，①福尔摩斯先生，你很难相信这些，我知道这些无赖潜伏在这所宅子里，可是自从那姑娘受我聘请以来，她经过这所房子时，我没有一次不骑车护送她，亲眼看她不致受到伤害。我和她保持着一定距离，我戴上了胡子，以便使她认不出我来，因为她是一位善良而气质高贵的姑娘，如果她想到是我在村①金伯利及约翰内斯堡均为南非地名。——译者注路上尾随她，她就不会长期受我雇聘了。”
“你为什么不把危险告诉她呢？”
“因为那样一来，她还是要离开我的，可是我不愿意有这样的事。即使她不爱我，只要我能在家里看到她那秀丽的容貌，听到她的声音，那我就知足了。”
“喂，"我说道，"你把这叫做爱，卡拉瑟斯先生。可是我却把这叫做利己主义。”
“可能两者兼而有之。不管怎样，我不能让她离开。再说，她周围有这伙人，最好还是有人在身边照顾她好一些。后来，接到电报，我知道他们一定要有所行动了。”
“什么电报？”
卡拉瑟斯从口袋里拿出一份电报来。
“就是这个，"他说道。
电文非常简单明了：
老儿已死。
“哼！"福尔摩斯说道，"我想我知道这是怎么回事了，并且我也明白，象你所说的，这封电报会引其他们走向极端。你们可以一边等，一边尽你所知全部告诉我。”
那个穿白色法衣的老恶棍破口骂出一连串肮脏话。
“皇天在上！"他说道，"假如你泄露我们的秘密，鲍勃，我就要用你对付杰克·伍德利的手段来对付你。你可以随心所欲地把那姑娘的事说得天花乱坠，那是你们自己的事，可是你要把你的朋友出卖给这个便衣，那你就要自找倒霉了。”
“尊敬的牧师阁下用不着激动，"福尔摩斯点燃香烟，说道，"这件案子对你们不利，这是十分清楚的。我不过出于个人好奇，问几个细节问题而已。不过，假如你们不便见告，那么我就来说一说，然后你们就会明白你们还能隐瞒住什么秘密了。首先，你们三个人从南非来玩这场把戏——你威廉森，你卡拉瑟斯，还有伍德利。”
“头号的谎言，"那老家伙说道，"两个月以前，我连他们见也没见过，而且我生来也没到过非洲，所以你可以把这谎言放进烟斗里一起烧掉，爱管闲事的福尔摩斯先生。”
“他说的是实话，"卡拉瑟斯说道。
“好了，好了，你们两个是从远方来的。这位尊敬的牧师是我们自己的本国货。你们在南非结识了拉尔夫·史密斯。你们有理由相信他不会活得很久了，你们发现他的侄女要继承他的遗产。我这话怎么样？嗯？”
卡拉瑟斯点点头，威廉森咒骂不止。
“毫无疑问，她是最近的亲属，你们知道那个老人不会留下遗嘱。”
“他不认字也不会写，"卡拉瑟斯说道。
“所以你们两人不远万里而来，到处查寻这位姑娘。你们打的主意是，一个人娶她，另一个人分一部分赃款。由于某种原因，伍德利选上做丈夫。那原因是什么呢？”
“我们在航途打牌，用那个姑娘作注，伍德利赢了。”
“我明白了。你把姑娘骗到你家里，好让伍德利到你家向她求爱。可是她看得出伍德利是个酗酒的恶棍，不愿和他来往。同时，你自己也爱上了这位姑娘，这就完全打乱了你们的安排。你想到那个恶棍要占有这姑娘，便再也不能容忍了。”
“对，的确，我不能再容忍了。”
“于是你们争吵起来。他一怒之下就走了，把你起在一边，自己打主意了。”
“威廉森，我看，我们要说的这位先生都说了，已经所剩无几了，"卡拉瑟斯苦笑着大声喊道，"对，我们争吵过，他把我了。不管怎样，在打架方面，我和他是不相上下的。后来我就见不到他了。原来那时他在这里结识了这位被免职的牧师。我发现他们俩在这儿租了房子，这正是她去车站的必经之路。在这以后我就留心照料她，因为我知道风声啊。我一次又一次地去看他们，因为很想知道他们在追求什么。两天以前伍德利带着这封电报到我家来，电报说拉尔夫·史密斯已经去世。伍德利问我是不是遵守讲好的交易条件。我说我不愿意。他问我是不是自己想娶那姑娘，然后分给他一部分财产。我说我倒是愿意这么办，可是姑娘不答应。伍德利说，'让我们先把她娶到手，过一两个星期，她对事情的看法就会有所不同了。'我说我不愿意动用武力。所以他就现出那出言下流的无赖本色，骂骂咧咧地走了，并且发誓说，一定要把她弄到手。她打算这个周末离开我，我弄到一辆轻便马车送她去车站，可总是放心不下，所以骑自行车赶来。然而，她已经动身了，还没等我追上她，祸事就发生了。我一看到你们两位先生把她乘坐的马车赶回来，我就立即知道情况不妙了。”
福尔摩斯站起来，把烟蒂扔进壁炉。"我的感觉一直很迟钝，华生，"他说道，"当你报告说你见骑车人好象在灌木丛中整理领带，光是这一件事就早已向我说明了一切。不过，我们还可以庆幸我们通到这样一桩希奇古怪的、在某些方面又是独一无二的案子。我看见车道上来了三名区，我很高兴看到那个小马夫也能跟他们走得一样快，所以，看来，不管是牧师，还是那个有趣的新郎，由于他们今天早晨的非法行动，将永无出头之日了。华生，我想，凭你的医务能力，你可以拜访史密斯小姐，告诉她，假如她恢复了健康，我们就送她回娘家去。如果她还没有完全复原，你可以暗示说，我们准备给米得兰公司的一位年轻电学家打电报，这多半可以把她治愈。至于你，卡拉瑟斯先生，我想你对你参加的罪恶阴谋活动，已经力所能及地进行了补救。这是我的名片，先生，如果在审判你的时候，我的证词对你有益的话，请随意使用好了。”
在我们那层出不穷的活动中，读者可能已经察觉，我往往很难对我的记叙文加以润色，并且写出读者可能期望的那些希奇古怪的最终详细情节。每一案件都是另一案件的序幕，而决定性时刻一过，那些登台人物就从我们的忙乱生活中永远退场。然而，我找到了我记叙这件案子的手稿，手稿的结尾有一段简要的记载，我在记载中报告说，维奥莱特·史密斯小姐果真继承了一大笔遗产，现在她已经是莫顿和肯尼迪公司的大股东，著名的威斯敏斯特电学家西里尔·莫顿的妻子。威廉森和伍德利两个人都因诱拐和伤害罪受审，威廉森被判七年徒刑，伍德利被判十年徒刑。我没有得到卡拉瑟斯结果如何的报告，不过我相信，既然伍德利是一个声名狼藉的十分危险的恶棍，法庭是不会十分严重地看待卡拉瑟斯所犯的伤害罪的，我想法官判他几个月监禁也就足够了。
On referring to my note-book for the year 1895 I find that it was upon Saturday, the 23rd of April, that we first heard of Miss Violet Smith. Her visit was, I remember, extremely unwelcome to Holmes, for he was immersed at the moment in a very abstruse and complicated problem concerning the peculiar persecution to which John Vincent Harden, the well-known tobacco millionaire, had been subjected. My friend, who loved above all things precision and concentration of thought, resented anything which distracted his attention from the matter in hand. And yet without a harshness which was foreign to his nature it was impossible to refuse to listen to the story of the young and beautiful woman, tall, graceful, and queenly, who presented herself at Baker Street late in the evening and implored his assistance and advice. It was vain to urge that his time was already fully occupied, for the young lady had come with the determination to tell her story, and it was evident that nothing short of force could get her out of the room until she had done so. With a resigned air and a somewhat weary smile, Holmes begged the beautiful intruder to take a seat and to inform us what it was that was troubling her.
"At least it cannot be your health," said he, as his keen eyes darted over her; "so ardent a bicyclist must be full of energy."
She glanced down in surprise at her own feet, and I observed the slight roughening of the side of the sole caused by the friction of the edge of the pedal.
"Yes, I bicycle a good deal, Mr. Holmes, and that has something to do with my visit to you to-day."
My friend took the lady's ungloved hand and examined it with as close an attention and as little sentiment as a scientist would show to a specimen.
"You will excuse me, I am sure. It is my business," said he, as he dropped it. "I nearly fell into the error of supposing that you were typewriting. Of course, it is obvious that it is music. You observe the spatulate finger-end, Watson, which is common to both professions? There is a spirituality about the face, however" -- he gently turned it towards the light -- "which the typewriter does not generate. This lady is a musician."
"Yes, Mr. Holmes, I teach music."
"In the country, I presume, from your complexion."
"Yes, sir; near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey."
"A beautiful neighbourhood and full of the most interesting associations. You remember, Watson, that it was near there that we took Archie Stamford, the forger. Now, Miss Violet, what has happened to you near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey?"
The young lady, with great clearness and composure, made the following curious statement:--
"My father is dead, Mr. Holmes. He was James Smith, who conducted the orchestra at the old Imperial Theatre. My mother and I were left without a relation in the world except one uncle, Ralph Smith, who went to Africa twenty-five years ago, and we have never had a word from him since. When father died we were left very poor, but one day we were told that there was an advertisement in the TIMES inquiring for our whereabouts. You can imagine how excited we were, for we thought that someone had left us a fortune. We went at once to the lawyer whose name was given in the paper. There we met two gentlemen, Mr. Carruthers and Mr. Woodley, who were home on a visit from South Africa. They said that my uncle was a friend of theirs, that he died some months before in great poverty in Johannesburg, and that he had asked them with his last breath to hunt up his relations and see that they were in no want. It seemed strange to us that Uncle Ralph, who took no notice of us when he was alive, should be so careful to look after us when he was dead; but Mr. Carruthers explained that the reason was that my uncle had just heard of the death of his brother, and so felt responsible for our fate."
"Excuse me," said Holmes; "when was this interview?"
"Last December -- four months ago."
"Pray proceed."
"Mr. Woodley seemed to me to be a most odious person. He was for ever making eyes at me -- a coarse, puffy-faced, red-moustached young man, with his hair plastered down on each side of his forehead. I thought that he was perfectly hateful -- and I was sure that Cyril would not wish me to know such a person."
"Oh, Cyril is his name!" said Holmes, smiling.
The young lady blushed and laughed.
"Yes, Mr. Holmes; Cyril Morton, an electrical engineer, and we hope to be married at the end of the summer. Dear me, how DID I get talking about him? What I wished to say was that Mr. Woodley was perfectly odious, but that Mr. Carruthers, who was a much older man, was more agreeable. He was a dark, sallow, clean-shaven, silent person; but he had polite manners and a pleasant smile. He inquired how we were left, and on finding that we were very poor he suggested that I should come and teach music to his only daughter, aged ten. I said that I did not like to leave my mother, on which he suggested that I should go home to her every week-end, and he offered me a hundred a year, which was certainly splendid pay. So it ended by my accepting, and I went down to Chiltern Grange, about six miles from Farnham. Mr. Carruthers was a widower, but he had engaged a lady-housekeeper, a very respectable, elderly person, called Mrs. Dixon, to look after his establishment. The child was a dear, and everything promised well. Mr. Carruthers was very kind and very musical, and we had most pleasant evenings together. Every week-end I went home to my mother in town.
"The first flaw in my happiness was the arrival of the red-moustached Mr. Woodley. He came for a visit of a week, and oh, it seemed three months to me! He was a dreadful person, a bully to everyone else, but to me something infinitely worse. He made odious love to me, boasted of his wealth, said that if I married him I would have the finest diamonds in London, and finally, when I would have nothing to do with him, he seized me in his arms one day after dinner -- he was hideously strong -- and he swore that he would not let me go until I had kissed him. Mr. Carruthers came in and tore him off from me, on which he turned upon his own host, knocking him down and cutting his face open. That was the end of his visit, as you can imagine. Mr. Carruthers apologized to me next day, and assured me that I should never be exposed to such an insult again. I have not seen Mr. Woodley since.
"And now, Mr. Holmes, I come at last to the special thing which has caused me to ask your advice to-day. You must know that every Saturday forenoon I ride on my bicycle to Farnham Station in order to get the 12.22 to town. The road from Chiltern Grange is a lonely one, and at one spot it is particularly so, for it lies for over a mile between Charlington Heath upon one side and the woods which lie round Charlington Hall upon the other. You could not find a more lonely tract of road anywhere, and it is quite rare to meet so much as a cart, or a peasant, until you reach the high road near Crooksbury Hill. Two weeks ago I was passing this place when I chanced to look back over my shoulder, and about two hundred yards behind me I saw a man, also on a bicycle. He seemed to be a middle-aged man, with a short, dark beard. I looked back before I reached Farnham, but the man was gone, so I thought no more about it. But you can imagine how surprised I was, Mr. Holmes, when on my return on the Monday I saw the same man on the same stretch of road. My astonishment was increased when the incident occurred again, exactly as before, on the following Saturday and Monday. He always kept his distance and did not molest me in any way, but still it certainly was very odd. I mentioned it to Mr. Carruthers, who seemed interested in what I said, and told me that he had ordered a horse and trap, so that in future I should not pass over these lonely roads without some companion.
"The horse and trap were to have come this week, but for some reason they were not delivered, and again I had to cycle to the station. That was this morning. You can think that I looked out when I came to Charlington Heath, and there, sure enough, was the man, exactly as he had been the two weeks before. He always kept so far from me that I could not clearly see his face, but it was certainly someone whom I did not know. He was dressed in a dark suit with a cloth cap. The only thing about his face that I could clearly see was his dark beard. To-day I was not alarmed, but I was filled with curiosity, and I determined to find out who he was and what he wanted. I slowed down my machine, but he slowed down his. Then I stopped altogether, but he stopped also. Then I laid a trap for him. There is a sharp turning of the road, and I pedalled very quickly round this, and then I stopped and waited. I expected him to shoot round and pass me before he could stop. But he never appeared. Then I went back and looked round the corner. I could see a mile of road, but he was not on it. To make it the more extraordinary, there was no side road at this point down which he could have gone."
Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. "This case certainly presents some features of its own," said he. "How much time elapsed between your turning the corner and your discovery that the road was clear?"
"Two or three minutes."
"Then he could not have retreated down the road, and you say that there are no side roads?"
"None."
"Then he certainly took a footpath on one side or the other."
"It could not have been on the side of the heath or I should have seen him."
"So by the process of exclusion we arrive at the fact that he made his way towards Charlington Hall, which, as I understand, is situated in its own grounds on one side of the road. Anything else?"
"Nothing, Mr. Holmes, save that I was so perplexed that I felt I should not be happy until I had seen you and had your advice."
Holmes sat in silence for some little time.
"Where is the gentleman to whom you are engaged?" he asked, at last.
"He is in the Midland Electrical Company, at Coventry."
"He would not pay you a surprise visit?"
"Oh, Mr. Holmes! As if I should not know him!"
"Have you had any other admirers?"
"Several before I knew Cyril."
"And since?"
"There was this dreadful man, Woodley, if you can call him an admirer."
"No one else?"
Our fair client seemed a little confused.
"Who was he?" asked Holmes.
"Oh, it may be a mere fancy of mine; but it has seemed to me sometimes that my employer, Mr. Carruthers, takes a great deal of interest in me. We are thrown rather together. I play his accompaniments in the evening. He has never said anything. He is a perfect gentleman. But a girl always knows."
"Ha!" Holmes looked grave. "What does he do for a living?"
"He is a rich man."
"No carriages or horses?"
"Well, at least he is fairly well-to-do. But he goes into the City two or three times a week. He is deeply interested in South African gold shares."
"You will let me know any fresh development, Miss Smith. I am very busy just now, but I will find time to make some inquiries into your case. In the meantime take no step without letting me know. Good-bye, and I trust that we shall have nothing but good news from you."
"It is part of the settled order of Nature that such a girl should have followers," said Holmes, as he pulled at his meditative pipe, "but for choice not on bicycles in lonely country roads. Some secretive lover, beyond all doubt. But there are curious and suggestive details about the case, Watson."
"That he should appear only at that point?"
"Exactly. Our first effort must be to find who are the tenants of Charlington Hall. Then, again, how about the connection between Carruthers and Woodley, since they appear to be men of such a different type? How came they BOTH to be so keen upon looking up Ralph Smith's relations? One more point. What sort of a MENAGE is it which pays double the market price for a governess, but does not keep a horse although six miles from the station? Odd, Watson -- very odd!"
"You will go down?"
"No, my dear fellow, YOU will go down. This may be some trifling intrigue, and I cannot break my other important research for the sake of it. On Monday you will arrive early at Farnham; you will conceal yourself near Charlington Heath; you will observe these facts for yourself, and act as your own judgment advises. Then, having inquired as to the occupants of the Hall, you will come back to me and report. And now, Watson, not another word of the matter until we have a few solid stepping-stones on which we may hope to get across to our solution."
We had ascertained from the lady that she went down upon the Monday by the train which leaves Waterloo at 9.50, so I started early and caught the 9.13. At Farnham Station I had no difficulty in being directed to Charlington Heath. It was impossible to mistake the scene of the young lady's adventure, for the road runs between the open heath on one side and an old yew hedge upon the other, surrounding a park which is studded with magnificent trees. There was a main gateway of lichen-studded stone, each side pillar surmounted by mouldering heraldic emblems; but besides this central carriage drive I observed several points where there were gaps in the hedge and paths leading through them. The house was invisible from the road, but the surroundings all spoke of gloom and decay.
The heath was covered with golden patches of flowering gorse, gleaming magnificently in the light of the bright spring sunshine. Behind one of these clumps I took up my position, so as to command both the gateway of the Hall and a long stretch of the road upon either side. It had been deserted when I left it, but now I saw a cyclist riding down it from the opposite direction to that in which I had come. He was clad in a dark suit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end of the Charlington grounds he sprang from his machine and led it through a gap in the hedge, disappearing from my view.
A quarter of an hour passed and then a second cyclist appeared. This time it was the young lady coming from the station. I saw her look about her as she came to the Charlington hedge. An instant later the man emerged from his hiding-place, sprang upon his cycle, and followed her. In all the broad landscape those were the only moving figures, the graceful girl sitting very straight upon her machine, and the man behind her bending low over his handle-bar, with a curiously furtive suggestion in every movement. She looked back at him and slowed her pace. He slowed also. She stopped. He at once stopped too, keeping two hundred yards behind her. Her next movement was as unexpected as it was spirited. She suddenly whisked her wheels round and dashed straight at him! He was as quick as she, however, and darted off in desperate flight. Presently she came back up the road again, her head haughtily in the air, not deigning to take any further notice of her silent attendant. He had turned also, and still kept his distance until the curve of the road hid them from my sight.
I remained in my hiding-place, and it was well that I did so, for presently the man reappeared cycling slowly back. He turned in at the Hall gates and dismounted from his machine. For some few minutes I could see him standing among the trees. His hands were raised and he seemed to be settling his necktie. Then he mounted his cycle and rode away from me down the drive towards the Hall. I ran across the heath and peered through the trees. Far away I could catch glimpses of the old grey building with its bristling Tudor chimneys, but the drive ran through a dense shrubbery, and I saw no more of my man.
However, it seemed to me that I had done a fairly good morning's work, and I walked back in high spirits to Farnham. The local house-agent could tell me nothing about Charlington Hall, and referred me to a well-known firm in Pall Mall. There I halted on my way home, and met with courtesy from the representative. No, I could not have Charlington Hall for the summer. I was just too late. It had been let about a month ago. Mr. Williamson was the name of the tenant. He was a respectable elderly gentleman. The polite agent was afraid he could say no more, as the affairs of his clients were not matters which he could discuss.
Mr. Sherlock Holmes listened with attention to the long report which I was able to present to him that evening, but it did not elicit that word of curt praise which I had hoped for and should have valued. On the contrary, his austere face was even more severe than usual as he commented upon the things that I had done and the things that I had not.
"Your hiding-place, my dear Watson, was very faulty. You should have been behind the hedge; then you would have had a close view of this interesting person. As it is you were some hundreds of yards away, and can tell me even less than Miss Smith. She thinks she does not know the man; I am convinced she does. Why, otherwise, should he be so desperately anxious that she should not get so near him as to see his features? You describe him as bending over the handle-bar. Concealment again, you see. You really have done remarkably badly. He returns to the house and you want to find out who he is. You come to a London house-agent!"
"What should I have done?" I cried, with some heat.
"Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centre of country gossip. They would have told you every name, from the master to the scullery-maid. Williamson! It conveys nothing to my mind. If he is an elderly man he is not this active cyclist who sprints away from that athletic young lady's pursuit. What have we gained by your expedition? The knowledge that the girl's story is true. I never doubted it. That there is a connection between the cyclist and the Hall. I never doubted that either. That the Hall is tenanted by Williamson. Who's the better for that? Well, well, my dear sir, don't look so depressed. We can do little more until next Saturday, and in the meantime I may make one or two inquiries myself."
Next morning we had a note from Miss Smith, recounting shortly and accurately the very incidents which I had seen, but the pith of the letter lay in the postscript:--
"I am sure that you will respect my confidence, Mr. Holmes, when I tell you that my place here has become difficult owing to the fact that my employer has proposed marriage to me. I am convinced that his feelings are most deep and most honourable. At the same time my promise is, of course, given. He took my refusal very seriously, but also very gently. You can understand, however, that the situation is a little strained."
"Our young friend seems to be getting into deep waters," said Holmes, thoughtfully, as he finished the letter. "The case certainly presents more features of interest and more possibility of development than I had originally thought. I should be none the worse for a quiet, peaceful day in the country, and I am inclined to run down this afternoon and test one or two theories which I have formed."
Holmes's quiet day in the country had a singular termination, for he arrived at Baker Street late in the evening with a cut lip and a discoloured lump upon his forehead, besides a general air of dissipation which would have made his own person the fitting object of a Scotland Yard investigation. He was immensely tickled by his own adventures, and laughed heartily as he recounted them.
"I get so little active exercise that it is always a treat," said he. "You are aware that I have some proficiency in the good old British sport of boxing. Occasionally it is of service. To-day, for example, I should have come to very ignominious grief without it."
I begged him to tell me what had occurred.
"I found that country pub which I had already recommended to your notice, and there I made my discreet inquiries. I was in the bar, and a garrulous landlord was giving me all that I wanted. Williamson is a white-bearded man, and he lives alone with a small staff of servants at the Hall. There is some rumour that he is or has been a clergyman; but one or two incidents of his short residence at the Hall struck me as peculiarly unecclesiastical. I have already made some inquiries at a clerical agency, and they tell me that there WAS a man of that name in orders whose career has been a singularly dark one. The landlord further informed me that there are usually week-end visitors -- `a warm lot, sir' -- at the Hall, and especially one gentleman with a red moustache, Mr. Woodley by name, who was always there. We had got as far as this when who should walk in but the gentleman himself, who had been drinking his beer in the tap-room and had heard the whole conversation. Who was I? What did I want? What did I mean by asking questions? He had a fine flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous. He ended a string of abuse by a vicious back-hander which I failed to entirely avoid. The next few minutes were delicious. It was a straight left against a slogging ruffian. I emerged as you see me. Mr. Woodley went home in a cart. So ended my country trip, and it must be confessed that, however enjoyable, my day on the Surrey border has not been much more profitable than your own."
The Thursday brought us another letter from our client.
"You will not be surprised, Mr. Holmes," said she, "to hear that I am leaving Mr. Carruthers's employment. Even the high pay cannot reconcile me to the discomforts of my situation. On Saturday I come up to town and I do not intend to return. Mr. Carruthers has got a trap, and so the dangers of the lonely road, if there ever were any dangers, are now over.
"As to the special cause of my leaving, it is not merely the strained situation with Mr. Carruthers, but it is the reappearance of that odious man, Mr. Woodley. He was always hideous, but he looks more awful than ever now, for he appears to have had an accident and he is much disfigured. I saw him out of the window, but I am glad to say I did not meet him. He had a long talk with Mr. Carruthers, who seemed much excited afterwards. Woodley must be staying in the neighbourhood, for he did not sleep here, and yet I caught a glimpse of him again this morning slinking about in the shrubbery. I would sooner have a savage wild animal loose about the place. I loathe and fear him more than I can say. How CAN Mr. Carruthers endure such a creature for a moment? However, all my troubles will be over on Saturday."
"So I trust, Watson; so I trust," said Holmes, gravely. "There is some deep intrigue going on round that little woman, and it is our duty to see that no one molests her upon that last journey. I think, Watson, that we must spare time to run down together on Saturday morning, and make sure that this curious and inconclusive investigation has no untoward ending."
I confess that I had not up to now taken a very serious view of the case, which had seemed to me rather grotesque and bizarre than dangerous. That a man should lie in wait for and follow a very handsome woman is no unheard-of thing, and if he had so little audacity that he not only dared not address her, but even fled from her approach, he was not a very formidable assailant. The ruffian Woodley was a very different person, but, except on one occasion, he had not molested our client, and now he visited the house of Carruthers without intruding upon her presence. The man on the bicycle was doubtless a member of those week-end parties at the Hall of which the publican had spoken; but who he was or what he wanted was as obscure as ever. It was the severity of Holmes's manner and the fact that he slipped a revolver into his pocket before leaving our rooms which impressed me with the feeling that tragedy might prove to lurk behind this curious train of events.
A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and the heath-covered country-side with the glowing clumps of flowering gorse seemed all the more beautiful to eyes which were weary of the duns and drabs and slate-greys of London. Holmes and I walked along the broad, sandy road inhaling the fresh morning air, and rejoicing in the music of the birds and the fresh breath of the spring. From a rise of the road on the shoulder of Crooksbury Hill we could see the grim Hall bristling out from amidst the ancient oaks, which, old as they were, were still younger than the building which they surrounded. Holmes pointed down the long tract of road which wound, a reddish yellow band, between the brown of the heath and the budding green of the woods. Far away, a black dot, we could see a vehicle moving in our direction. Holmes gave an exclamation of impatience.
"I had given a margin of half an hour," said he. "If that is her trap she must be making for the earlier train. I fear, Watson, that she will be past Charlington before we can possibly meet her."
From the instant that we passed the rise we could no longer see the vehicle, but we hastened onwards at such a pace that my sedentary life began to tell upon me, and I was compelled to fall behind. Holmes, however, was always in training, for he had inexhaustible stores of nervous energy upon which to draw. His springy step never slowed until suddenly, when he was a hundred yards in front of me, he halted, and I saw him throw up his hand with a gesture of grief and despair. At the same instant an empty dog-cart, the horse cantering, the reins trailing, appeared round the curve of the road and rattled swiftly towards us.
"Too late, Watson; too late!" cried Holmes, as I ran panting to his side. "Fool that I was not to allow for that earlier train! It's abduction, Watson -- abduction! Murder! Heaven knows what! Block the road! Stop the horse! That's right. Now, jump in, and let us see if I can repair the consequences of my own blunder."
We had sprung into the dog-cart, and Holmes, after turning the horse, gave it a sharp cut with the whip, and we flew back along the road. As we turned the curve the whole stretch of road between the Hall and the heath was opened up. I grasped Holmes's arm.
"That's the man!" I gasped.
A solitary cyclist was coming towards us. His head was down and his shoulders rounded as he put every ounce of energy that he possessed on to the pedals. He was flying like a racer. Suddenly he raised his bearded face, saw us close to him, and pulled up, springing from his machine. That coal-black beard was in singular contrast to the pallor of his face, and his eyes were as bright as if he had a fever. He stared at us and at the dog-cart. Then a look of amazement came over his face.
"Halloa! Stop there!" he shouted, holding his bicycle to block our road. "Where did you get that dog-cart? Pull up, man!" he yelled, drawing a pistol from his side pocket. "Pull up, I say, or, by George, I'll put a bullet into your horse."
Holmes threw the reins into my lap and sprang down from the cart.
"You're the man we want to see. Where is Miss Violet Smith?" he said, in his quick, clear way.
"That's what I am asking you. You're in her dog-cart. You ought to know where she is."
"We met the dog-cart on the road. There was no one in it. We drove back to help the young lady."
"Good Lord! Good Lord! what shall I do?" cried the stranger, in an ecstasy of despair. "They've got her, that hellhound Woodley and the blackguard parson. Come, man, come, if you really are her friend. Stand by me and we'll save her, if I have to leave my carcass in Charlington Wood."
He ran distractedly, his pistol in his hand, towards a gap in the hedge. Holmes followed him, and I, leaving the horse grazing beside the road, followed Holmes.
"This is where they came through," said he, pointing to the marks of several feet upon the muddy path. "Halloa! Stop a minute! Who's this in the bush?"
It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed like an ostler, with leather cords and gaiters. He lay upon his back, his knees drawn up, a terrible cut upon his head. He was insensible, but alive. A glance at his wound told me that it had not penetrated the bone.
"That's Peter, the groom," cried the stranger. "He drove her. The beasts have pulled him off and clubbed him. Let him lie; we can't do him any good, but we may save her from the worst fate that can befall a woman."
We ran frantically down the path, which wound among the trees. We had reached the shrubbery which surrounded the house when Holmes pulled up.
"They didn't go to the house. Here are their marks on the left -- here, beside the laurel bushes! Ah, I said so!"
As he spoke a woman's shrill scream -- a scream which vibrated with a frenzy of horror -- burst from the thick green clump of bushes in front of us. It ended suddenly on its highest note with a choke and a gurgle.
"This way! This way! They are in the bowling alley," cried the stranger, darting through the bushes. "Ah, the cowardly dogs! Follow me, gentlemen! Too late! too late! by the living Jingo!"
We had broken suddenly into a lovely glade of greensward surrounded by ancient trees. On the farther side of it, under the shadow of a mighty oak, there stood a singular group of three people. One was a woman, our client, drooping and faint, a handkerchief round her mouth. Opposite her stood a brutal, heavy-faced, red-moustached young man, his gaitered legs parted wide, one arm akimbo, the other waving a riding-crop, his whole attitude suggestive of triumphant bravado. Between them an elderly, grey-bearded man, wearing a short surplice over a light tweed suit, had evidently just completed the wedding service, for he pocketed his prayer-book as we appeared and slapped the sinister bridegroom upon the back in jovial congratulation.
"They're married!" I gasped.
"Come on!" cried our guide; "come on!" He rushed across the glade, Holmes and I at his heels. As we approached, the lady staggered against the trunk of the tree for support. Williamson, the ex-clergyman, bowed to us with mock politeness, and the bully Woodley advanced with a shout of brutal and exultant laughter.
"You can take your beard off, Bob," said he. "I know you right enough. Well, you and your pals have just come in time for me to be able to introduce you to Mrs. Woodley."
Our guide's answer was a singular one. He snatched off the dark beard which had disguised him and threw it on the ground, disclosing a long, sallow, clean-shaven face below it. Then he raised his revolver and covered the young ruffian, who was advancing upon him with his dangerous riding-crop swinging in his hand.
"Yes," said our ally, "I AM Bob Carruthers, and I'll see this woman righted if I have to swing for it. I told you what I'd do if you molested her, and, by the Lord, I'll be as good as my word!"
"You're too late. She's my wife!"
"No, she's your widow."
His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt from the front of Woodley's waistcoat. He spun round with a scream and fell upon his back, his hideous red face turning suddenly to a dreadful mottled pallor. The old man, still clad in his surplice, burst into such a string of foul oaths as I have never heard, and pulled out a revolver of his own, but before he could raise it he was looking down the barrel of Holmes's weapon.
"Enough of this," said my friend, coldly. "Drop that pistol! Watson, pick it up! Hold it to his head! Thank you. You, Carruthers, give me that revolver. We'll have no more violence. Come, hand it over!"
"Who are you, then?"
"My name is Sherlock Holmes."
"Good Lord!"
"You have heard of me, I see. I will represent the official police until their arrival. Here, you!" he shouted to a frightened groom who had appeared at the edge of the glade. "Come here. Take this note as hard as you can ride to Farnham." He scribbled a few words upon a leaf from his note-book. "Give it to the superintendent at the police-station. Until he comes I must detain you all under my personal custody."
The strong, masterful personality of Holmes dominated the tragic scene, and all were equally puppets in his hands. Williamson and Carruthers found themselves carrying the wounded Woodley into the house, and I gave my arm to the frightened girl. The injured man was laid on his bed, and at Holmes's request I examined him. I carried my report to where he sat in the old tapestry-hung dining-room with his two prisoners before him.
"He will live," said I.
"What!" cried Carruthers, springing out of his chair. "I'll go upstairs and finish him first. Do you tell me that that girl, that angel, is to be tied to Roaring Jack Woodley for life?"
"You need not concern yourself about that," said Holmes. "There are two very good reasons why she should under no circumstances be his wife. In the first place, we are very safe in questioning Mr. Williamson's right to solemnize a marriage."
"I have been ordained," cried the old rascal.
"And also unfrocked."
"Once a clergyman, always a clergyman."
"I think not. How about the license?"
"We had a license for the marriage. I have it here in my pocket."
"Then you got it by a trick. But in any case a forced marriage is no marriage, but it is a very serious felony, as you will discover before you have finished. You'll have time to think the point out during the next ten years or so, unless I am mistaken. As to you, Carruthers, you would have done better to keep your pistol in your pocket."
"I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes; but when I thought of all the precaution I had taken to shield this girl -- for I loved her, Mr. Holmes, and it is the only time that ever I knew what love was -- it fairly drove me mad to think that she was in the power of the greatest brute and bully in South Africa, a man whose name is a holy terror from Kimberley to Johannesburg. Why, Mr. Holmes, you'll hardly believe it, but ever since that girl has been in my employment I never once let her go past this house, where I knew these rascals were lurking, without following her on my bicycle just to see that she came to no harm. I kept my distance from her, and I wore a beard so that she should not recognise me, for she is a good and high-spirited girl, and she wouldn't have stayed in my employment long if she had thought that I was following her about the country roads."
"Why didn't you tell her of her danger?"
"Because then, again, she would have left me, and I couldn't bear to face that. Even if she couldn't love me it was a great deal to me just to see her dainty form about the house, and to hear the sound of her voice."
"Well," said I, "you call that love, Mr. Carruthers, but I should call it selfishness."
"Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn't let her go. Besides, with this crowd about, it was well that she should have someone near to look after her. Then when the cable came I knew they were bound to make a move."
"What cable?"
Carruthers took a telegram from his pocket.
"That's it," said he.
It was short and concise:--
"The old man is dead."
"Hum!" said Holmes. "I think I see how things worked, and I can understand how this message would, as you say, bring them to a head. But while we wait you might tell me what you can."
The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volley of bad language.
"By Heaven," said he, "if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers, I'll serve you as you served Jack Woodley. You can bleat about the girl to your heart's content, for that's your own affair, but if you round on your pals to this plain-clothes copper it will be the worst day's work that ever you did."
"Your reverence need not be excited," said Holmes, lighting a cigarette. "The case is clear enough against you, and all I ask is a few details for my private curiosity. However, if there's any difficulty in your telling me I'll do the talking, and then you will see how far you have a chance of holding back your secrets. In the first place, three of you came from South Africa on this game -- you Williamson, you Carruthers, and Woodley."
"Lie number one," said the old man; "I never saw either of them until two months ago, and I have never been in Africa in my life, so you can put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Busybody Holmes!"
"What he says is true," said Carruthers.
"Well, well, two of you came over. His reverence is our own home-made article. You had known Ralph Smith in South Africa. You had reason to believe he would not live long. You found out that his niece would inherit his fortune. How's that -- eh?"
Carruthers nodded and Williamson swore.
"She was next-of-kin, no doubt, and you were aware that the old fellow would make no will."
"Couldn't read or write," said Carruthers.
"So you came over, the two of you, and hunted up the girl. The idea was that one of you was to marry her and the other have a share of the plunder. For some reason Woodley was chosen as the husband. Why was that?"
"We played cards for her on the voyage. He won."
"I see. You got the young lady into your service, and there Woodley was to do the courting. She recognised the drunken brute that he was, and would have nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, your arrangement was rather upset by the fact that you had yourself fallen in love with the lady. You could no longer bear the idea of this ruffian owning her."
"No, by George, I couldn't!"
"There was a quarrel between you. He left you in a rage, and began to make his own plans independently of you."
"It strikes me, Williamson, there isn't very much that we can tell this gentleman," cried Carruthers, with a bitter laugh. "Yes, we quarreled, and he knocked me down. I am level with him on that, anyhow. Then I lost sight of him. That was when he picked up with this cast padre here. I found that they had set up house-keeping together at this place on the line that she had to pass for the station. I kept my eye on her after that, for I knew there was some devilry in the wind. I saw them from time to time, for I was anxious to know what they were after. Two days ago Woodley came up to my house with this cable, which showed that Ralph Smith was dead. He asked me if I would stand by the bargain. I said I would not. He asked me if I would marry the girl myself and give him a share. I said I would willingly do so, but that she would not have me. He said, `Let us get her married first, and after a week or two she may see things a bit different.' I said I would have nothing to do with violence. So he went off cursing, like the foul-mouthed blackguard that he was, and swearing that he would have her yet. She was leaving me this week-end, and I had got a trap to take her to the station, but I was so uneasy in my mind that I followed her on my bicycle. She had got a start, however, and before I could catch her the mischief was done. The first thing I knew about it was when I saw you two gentlemen driving back in her dog-cart."
Holmes rose and tossed the end of his cigarette into the grate. "I have been very obtuse, Watson," said he. "When in your report you said that you had seen the cyclist as you thought arrange his necktie in the shrubbery, that alone should have told me all. However, we may congratulate ourselves upon a curious and in some respects a unique case. I perceive three of the county constabulary in the drive, and I am glad to see that the little ostler is able to keep pace with them; so it is likely that neither he nor the interesting bridegroom will be permanently damaged by their morning's adventures. I think, Watson, that in your medical capacity you might wait upon Miss Smith and tell her that if she is sufficiently recovered we shall be happy to escort her to her mother's home. If she is not quite convalescent you will find that a hint that we were about to telegraph to a young electrician in the Midlands would probably complete the cure. As to you, Mr. Carruthers, I think that you have done what you could to make amends for your share in an evil plot. There is my card, sir, and if my evidence can be of help to you in your trial it shall be at your disposal."
In the whirl of our incessant activity it has often been difficult for me, as the reader has probably observed, to round off my narratives, and to give those final details which the curious might expect. Each case has been the prelude to another, and the crisis once over the actors have passed for ever out of our busy lives. I find, however, a short note at the end of my manuscripts dealing with this case, in which I have put it upon record that Miss Violet Smith did indeed inherit a large fortune, and that she is now the wife of Cyril Morton, the senior partner of Morton & Kennedy, the famous Westminster electricians. Williamson and Woodley were both tried for abduction and assault, the former getting seven years and the latter ten. Of the fate of Carruthers I have no record, but I am sure that his assault was not viewed very gravely by the Court, since Woodley had the reputation of being a most dangerous ruffian, and I think that a few months were sufficient to satisfy the demands of justice.
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