Знак четырех
XII. The Strange Story of Jonathan Small
Sholto’ssupper-hour.ItseemedtomethatIcouldmanagethethingeasilythroughTonga.Ibroughthimoutwithmewithalongropewoundroundhiswaist.Hecouldclimblikeacat,andhesoonmadehiswaythroughtheroof,but,asillluckwouldhaveit,BartholomewSholtowasstillintheroom,tohiscost.Tongathoughthehaddonesomethingverycleverinkillinghim,forwhenIcameupbytheropeIfoundhimstruttingaboutasproudasapeacock.VerymuchsurprisedwashewhenImadeathimwiththerope’sendandcursedhimforalittleblood-thirstyimp.Itookthetreasure-boxandletitdown,andthensliddownmyself,havingfirstleftthesignofthefouruponthetable,toshowthatthejewelshadcomebackatlasttothosewhohadmostrighttothem.Tongathenpulleduptherope,closedthewindow,andmadeoffthewaythathehadcome.
“Idon’tknowthatIhaveanythingelsetotellyou.IhadheardawatermanspeakofthespeedofSmith’slaunchtheAurora,soIthoughtshewouldbeahandycraftforourescape.IengagedwitholdSmith,andwastogivehimabigsumifhegotussafetoourship.Heknew,nodoubt,thattherewassomescrewloose,buthewasnotinoursecrets.Allthisisthetruth,andifItellittoyou,gentlemen,itisnottoamuseyou,—foryouhavenotdonemeaverygoodturn,—butitisbecauseIbelievethebestdefenceIcanmakeisjusttoholdbacknothing,butletalltheworldknowhowbadlyIhavemyselfbeenservedbyMajorSholto,andhowinnocentIamofthedeathofhisson.”
“Averyremarkableaccount,”saidSherlockHolmes.
