Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса
The Final Problem
"Well,"saidI,asIcamehurryingup,"Itrustthatsheisnoworse?"
Alookofsurprisepassedoverhisface,andatthefirstquiverofhiseyebrowsmyheartturnedtoleadinmybreast.
"Youdidnotwritethis?"Isaid,pullingtheletterfrommypocket."ThereisnosickEnglishwomaninthehotel?"
"Certainlynot!"hecried."Butithasthehotelmarkuponit!Ha,itmusthavebeenwrittenbythattallEnglishmanwhocameinafteryouhadgone.Hesaid—"
ButIwaitedfornoneofthelandlord’sexplanation.InatingleoffearIwasalreadyrunningdownthevillagestreet,andmakingforthepathwhichIhadsolatelydescended.Ithadtakenmeanhourtocomedown.ForallmyeffortstwomorehadpassedbeforeIfoundmyselfatthefallofReichenbachoncemore.TherewasHolmes’sAlpine-stockstillleaningagainsttherockbywhichIhadlefthim.Buttherewasnosignofhim,anditwasinvainthatIshouted.Myonlyanswerwasmyownvoicereverberatinginarollingechofromthecliffsaroundme.
ItwasthesightofthatAlpine-stockwhichturnedmecoldandsick.HehadnotgonetoRosenlaui,then.Hehadremainedonthatthree-footpath,withsheerwallononesideandsheerdropontheother,untilhisenemyhadovertakenhim.TheyoungSwisshadgonetoo.HehadprobablybeeninthepayofMoriartyandhadleftthetwomentogether.
