Знак чотирьох
V. The Tragedy of Pondicherry Lodge
Thevastsizeofthebuilding,withitsgloomanditsdeathlysilence,struckachilltotheheart.EvenThaddeusSholtoseemedillatease,andthelanternquiveredandrattledinhishand.
“Icannotunderstandit,”hesaid.“Theremustbesomemistake.IdistinctlytoldBartholomewthatweshouldbehere,andyetthereisnolightinhiswindow.Idonotknowwhattomakeofit.”
“Doeshealwaysguardthepremisesinthisway?”askedHolmes.
“Yes;hehasfollowedmyfather’scustom.Hewasthefavouriteson,youknow,andIsometimesthinkthatmyfathermayhavetoldhimmorethanheevertoldme.ThatisBartholomew’swindowuptherewherethemoonshinestrikes.Itisquitebright,butthereisnolightfromwithin,Ithink.”
“None,”saidHolmes.“ButIseetheglintofalightinthatlittlewindowbesidethedoor.”
“Ah,thatisthehousekeeper’sroom.ThatiswhereoldMrs.Bernstonesits.Shecantellusallaboutit.Butperhapsyouwouldnotmindwaitinghereforaminuteortwo,forifweallgointogetherandshehasnowordofourcomingshemaybealarmed.Buthush!whatisthat?”
Heheldupthelantern,andhishandshookuntilthecirclesoflightflickeredandwaveredallroundus.MissMorstanseizedmywrist,andweallstoodwiththumpinghearts,strainingourears.Fromthegreatblackhousetheresoundedthroughthesilentnightthesaddestandmostpitifulofsounds,—theshrill,brokenwhimperingofafrightenedwoman.
“ItisMrs.Bernstone,”saidSholto.“Sheistheonlywomaninthehouse.Waithere.Ishallbebackinamoment.
