DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 74
light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting
across from west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet
there was an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge to a
man's energy. All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills
around Aldershot, the little red and grey roofs of the farm-steadings
peeped out from amid the light green of the new foliage.

"Are they not fresh and beautiful?" I cried with all the enthusiasm
of a man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street.

But Holmes shook his head gravely.

"Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of a
mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with
reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered
houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and
the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation
and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there."

"Good heavens!" I cried. "Who would associate crime with these dear
old homesteads?"

"They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson,
founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in
London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the
smiling and beautiful countryside."

"You horrify me!"

"But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion can
do in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so
vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of a drunkard's
blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbours,
and then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word
of complaint can set it going, and there is but a step between the
crime and the dock. But look at these lonely houses, each in its own
fields, filled for the most part with poor ignorant folk who know
little of the law. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden
wickedness which may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and
none the wiser. Had this lady who appeals to us for help gone to live
in Winchester, I should never have had a fear for her. It is the five
miles of country which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she
is not personally threatened."

"No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away."

"Quite so. She has her freedom."

"What can be the matter, then? Can you suggest no explanation?"

"I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would
cover the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is correct
can only be determined by the fresh information which we shall no
doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of the cathedral,
and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has to tell."

The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street, at no distance
from the station, and there we found the young lady waiting for us.
She had engaged a sitting-room, and our lunch awaited us upon the
table.

"I am so delighted that you have come," she said earnestly. "It is so
very kind of you both; but indeed I do not know what I should do.
Your advice will be altogether invaluable to me."

"Pray tell us what has happened to you."

"I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr. Rucastle
to be back before three. I got his leave to come into town this
morning, though he little knew for what purpose."

"Let us have everything in its due order." Holmes thrust his long
thin legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen.

"In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, with no
actual ill-treatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is only fair to
them to say that. But I cannot understand them, and I am not easy in
my mind about them."

"What can you not understand?"

"Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall have it all just as
it occurred. When I came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and drove me
in his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as he said, beautifully
situated, but it is not beautiful in itself, for it is a large square
block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained and streaked with damp
and bad weather. There are grounds round it, woods on three sides,
and on the fourth a field which slopes down to the Southampton
highroad, which curves past about a hundred yards from the front
door. This ground in front belongs to the house, but the woods all
round are part of Lord Southerton's preserves. A clump of copper
beeches immediately in front of the hall door has given its name to
the place.

"I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, and
was introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child. There
was no truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which seemed to us to be
probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle is not mad. I
found her to be a silent, pale-faced woman, much younger than her
husband, not more than thirty, I should think, while he can hardly be

light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting

across from west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet

there was an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge to a

man's energy. All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills

around Aldershot, the little red and grey roofs of the farm-steadings

peeped out from amid the light green of the new foliage.

"Are they not fresh and beautiful?" I cried with all the enthusiasm

of a man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street.

But Holmes shook his head gravely.

"Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of a

mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with

reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered

houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and

the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation

and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there."

"Good heavens!" I cried. "Who would associate crime with these dear

old homesteads?"

"They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson,

founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in

London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the

smiling and beautiful countryside."

"You horrify me!"

"But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion can

do in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so

vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of a drunkard's

blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbours,

and then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word

of complaint can set it going, and there is but a step between the

crime and the dock. But look at these lonely houses, each in its own

fields, filled for the most part with poor ignorant folk who know

little of the law. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden

wickedness which may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and

none the wiser. Had this lady who appeals to us for help gone to live

in Winchester, I should never have had a fear for her. It is the five

miles of country which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she

is not personally threatened."

"No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away."

"Quite so. She has her freedom."

"What can be the matter, then? Can you suggest no explanation?"

"I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would

cover the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is correct

can only be determined by the fresh information which we shall no

doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of the cathedral,

and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has to tell."

The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street, at no distance

from the station, and there we found the young lady waiting for us.

She had engaged a sitting-room, and our lunch awaited us upon the

table.

"I am so delighted that you have come," she said earnestly. "It is so

very kind of you both; but indeed I do not know what I should do.

Your advice will be altogether invaluable to me."

"Pray tell us what has happened to you."

"I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr. Rucastle

to be back before three. I got his leave to come into town this

morning, though he little knew for what purpose."

"Let us have everything in its due order." Holmes thrust his long

thin legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen.

"In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, with no

actual ill-treatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is only fair to

them to say that. But I cannot understand them, and I am not easy in

my mind about them."

"What can you not understand?"

"Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall have it all just as

it occurred. When I came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and drove me

in his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as he said, beautifully

situated, but it is not beautiful in itself, for it is a large square

block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained and streaked with damp

and bad weather. There are grounds round it, woods on three sides,

and on the fourth a field which slopes down to the Southampton

highroad, which curves past about a hundred yards from the front

door. This ground in front belongs to the house, but the woods all

round are part of Lord Southerton's preserves. A clump of copper

beeches immediately in front of the hall door has given its name to

the place.

"I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, and

was introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child. There

was no truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which seemed to us to be

probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle is not mad. I

found her to be a silent, pale-faced woman, much younger than her

husband, not more than thirty, I should think, while he can hardly be