Возвращение Шерлока Холмса

           Iunderstoodthewholeargumentofthatfirm,restraininggrip—thatitwasnoaffairofours,thatjusticehadovertakenavillain,thatwehadourowndutiesandourownobjects,whichwerenottobelostsightof.ButhardlyhadthewomanrushedfromtheroomwhenHolmes,withswift,silentsteps,wasoverattheotherdoor.Heturnedthekeyinthelock.Atthesameinstantweheardvoicesinthehouseandthesoundofhurryingfeet.Therevolvershotshadrousedthehousehold.WithperfectcoolnessHolmesslippedacrosstothesafe,filledhistwoarmswithbundlesofletters,andpouredthemallintothefire.Againandagainhedidit,untilthesafewasempty.Someoneturnedthehandleandbeatupontheoutsideofthedoor.Holmeslookedswiftlyround.TheletterwhichhadbeenthemessengerofdeathforMilvertonlay,allmottledwithhisblood,uponthetable.Holmestosseditinamongtheblazingpapers.Thenhedrewthekeyfromtheouterdoor,passedthroughafterme,andlockeditontheoutside.“Thisway,Watson,”saidhe,“wecanscalethegardenwallinthisdirection.”

           Icouldnothavebelievedthatanalarmcouldhavespreadsoswiftly.Lookingback,thehugehousewasoneblazeoflight.Thefrontdoorwasopen,andfigureswererushingdownthedrive.Thewholegardenwasalivewithpeople,andonefellowraisedaview-halloaasweemergedfromtheverandaandfollowedhardatourheels.Holmesseemedtoknowthegroundsperfectly,andhethreadedhiswayswiftlyamongaplantationofsmalltrees,Icloseathisheels,andourforemostpursuerpantingbehindus.