Этюд в багровых тонах
A Continuation of the Reminiscences of John Watson, M.D.
ThisfellowhadDrebberbythecollar,andwhentheycametotheheadofthestepshegavehimashoveandakickwhichsenthimhalfacrosstheroad. ‘Youhound,’hecried,shakinghisstickathim;‘I’llteachyoutoinsultanhonestgirl!’ HewassohotthatIthinkhewouldhavethrashedDrebberwithhiscudgel,onlythatthecurstaggeredawaydowntheroadasfastashislegswouldcarryhim. Heranasfarasthecorner,andthen,seeingmycab,hehailedmeandjumpedin. ‘DrivemetoHalliday’sPrivateHotel,’saidhe.
“WhenIhadhimfairlyinsidemycab,myheartjumpedsowithjoythatIfearedlestatthislastmomentmyaneurismmightgowrong. Idrovealongslowly,weighinginmyownmindwhatitwasbesttodo. Imighttakehimrightoutintothecountry,andthereinsomedesertedlanehavemylastinterviewwithhim. Ihadalmostdecideduponthis,whenhesolvedtheproblemforme. Thecrazefordrinkhadseizedhimagain,andheorderedmetopullupoutsideaginpalace.Hewentin,leavingwordthatIshouldwaitforhim. Thereheremaineduntilclosingtime,andwhenhecameouthewassofargonethatIknewthegamewasinmyownhands.
“Don’timaginethatIintendedtokillhimincoldblood. ItwouldonlyhavebeenrigidjusticeifIhaddoneso,butIcouldnotbringmyselftodoit. Ihadlongdeterminedthatheshouldhaveashowforhislifeifhechosetotakeadvantageofit.
