Возвращение Шерлока Холмса
The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist
Williamson,theex-clergyman,bowedtouswithmockpoliteness,andthebully,Woodley,advancedwithashoutofbrutalandexultantlaughter.
“Youcantakeyourbeardoff,Bob,”saidhe.“Iknowyou,rightenough.Well,youandyourpalshavejustcomeintimeformetobeabletointroduceyoutoMrs.Woodley.”
Ourguide’sanswerwasasingularone.Hesnatchedoffthedarkbeardwhichhaddisguisedhimandthrewitontheground,disclosingalong,sallow,clean-shavenfacebelowit.Thenheraisedhisrevolverandcoveredtheyoungruffian,whowasadvancinguponhimwithhisdangerousriding-cropswinginginhishand.
“Yes,”saidourally,“IamBobCarruthers,andI’llseethiswomanrighted,ifIhavetoswingforit.ItoldyouwhatI’ddoifyoumolestedher,and,bytheLord!I’llbeasgoodasmyword.”
“You’retoolate.She’smywife.”
“No,she’syourwidow.”
Hisrevolvercracked,andIsawthebloodspurtfromthefrontofWoodley’swaistcoat.Hespunroundwithascreamandfelluponhisback,hishideousredfaceturningsuddenlytoadreadfulmottledpallor.Theoldman,stillcladinhissurplice,burstintosuchastringoffouloathsasIhaveneverheard,andpulledoutarevolverofhisown,but,beforehecouldraiseit,hewaslookingdownthebarrelofHolmes’sweapon.
“Enoughofthis,”saidmyfriend,coldly.“Dropthatpistol!Watson,pickitup!Holdittohishead.Thankyou.You,Carruthers,givemethatrevolver.We’llhavenomoreviolence.Come,handitover!”
“Whoareyou,then?”
“MynameisSherlockHolmes.
