Этюд в багровых тонах
A Continuation of the Reminiscences of John Watson, M.D.
Insteadofgraspingatthechanceofsafetywhichthatofferedhim,hesprangfromhisbedandflewatmythroat. Inself-defenceIstabbedhimtotheheart. Itwouldhavebeenthesameinanycase,forProvidencewouldneverhaveallowedhisguiltyhandtopickoutanythingbutthepoison.
“Ihavelittlemoretosay,andit’saswell,forIamaboutdoneup. Iwentoncabbingitforadayorso,intendingtokeepatituntilIcouldsaveenoughtotakemebacktoAmerica. IwasstandingintheyardwhenaraggedyoungsteraskediftherewasacabbytherecalledJeffersonHope,andsaidthathiscabwaswantedbyagentlemanat221B,BakerStreet. Iwentround,suspectingnoharm,andthenextthingIknew,thisyoungmanherehadthebraceletsonmywrists,andasneatlysnackled27aseverIsawinmylife. That’sthewholeofmystory,gentlemen. Youmayconsidermetobeamurderer;butIholdthatIamjustasmuchanofficerofjusticeasyouare.”
Sothrillinghadtheman’snarrativebeen,andhismannerwassoimpressivethatwehadsatsilentandabsorbed. Eventheprofessionaldetectives,blaséastheywereineverydetailofcrime,appearedtobekeenlyinterestedintheman’sstory. WhenhefinishedwesatforsomeminutesinastillnesswhichwasonlybrokenbythescratchingofLestrade’spencilashegavethefinishingtouchestohisshorthandaccount.
“ThereisonlyonepointonwhichIshouldlikealittlemoreinformation,”SherlockHolmessaidatlast. “WhowasyouraccomplicewhocamefortheringwhichIadvertised?”
