Собака Баскервіллів
Second Report of Dr. Watson
Hisdarkeyes,glaringoutofthewhitemaskofhisface,werefullofhorrorandastonishmentashegazedfromSirHenrytome.
"Whatareyoudoinghere,Barrymore?"
"Nothing,sir. "Hisagitationwassogreatthathecouldhardlyspeak,andtheshadowssprangupanddownfromtheshakingofhiscandle. "Itwasthewindow,sir. Igoroundatnighttoseethattheyarefastened."
"Onthesecondfloor?"
"Yes,sir,allthewindows."
"Lookhere,Barrymore,"saidSirHenry,sternly; "wehavemadeupourmindstohavethetruthoutofyou,soitwillsaveyoutroubletotellitsoonerratherthanlater. Come,now!Nolies! Whatwereyoudoingatthatwindow?"
Thefellowlookedatusinahelplessway,andhewrunghishandstogetherlikeonewhoisinthelastextremityofdoubtandmisery.
"Iwasdoingnoharm,sir. Iwasholdingacandletothewindow."
"Andwhywereyouholdingacandletothewindow?"
"Don’taskme,SirHenry—don’taskme! Igiveyoumyword,sir,thatitisnotmysecret,andthatIcannottellit. IfitconcernednoonebutmyselfIwouldnottrytokeepitfromyou."
Asuddenideaoccurredtome,andItookthecandlefromthetremblinghandofthebutler.
"Hemusthavebeenholdingitasasignal,"saidI. "Letusseeifthereisanyanswer."
