DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 74
"Well, and what happened when Mr. Windibank, your stepfather,
returned to France?"

"Mr. Hosmer Angel came to the house again and proposed that we should
marry before father came back. He was in dreadful earnest and made me
swear, with my hands on the Testament, that whatever happened I would
always be true to him. Mother said he was quite right to make me
swear, and that it was a sign of his passion. Mother was all in his
favour from the first and was even fonder of him than I was. Then,
when they talked of marrying within the week, I began to ask about
father; but they both said never to mind about father, but just to
tell him afterwards, and mother said she would make it all right with
him. I didn't quite like that, Mr. Holmes. It seemed funny that I
should ask his leave, as he was only a few years older than me; but I
didn't want to do anything on the sly, so I wrote to father at
Bordeaux, where the company has its French offices, but the letter
came back to me on the very morning of the wedding."

"It missed him, then?"

"Yes, sir; for he had started to England just before it arrived."

"Ha! that was unfortunate. Your wedding was arranged, then, for the
Friday. Was it to be in church?"

"Yes, sir, but very quietly. It was to be at St. Saviour's, near
King's Cross, and we were to have breakfast afterwards at the St.
Pancras Hotel. Hosmer came for us in a hansom, but as there were two
of us he put us both into it and stepped himself into a four-wheeler,
which happened to be the only other cab in the street. We got to the
church first, and when the four-wheeler drove up we waited for him to
step out, but he never did, and when the cabman got down from the box
and looked there was no one there! The cabman said that he could not
imagine what had become of him, for he had seen him get in with his
own eyes. That was last Friday, Mr. Holmes, and I have never seen or
heard anything since then to throw any light upon what became of
him."

"It seems to me that you have been very shamefully treated," said
Holmes.

"Oh, no, sir! He was too good and kind to leave me so. Why, all the
morning he was saying to me that, whatever happened, I was to be
true; and that even if something quite unforeseen occurred to
separate us, I was always to remember that I was pledged to him, and
that he would claim his pledge sooner or later. It seemed strange
talk for a wedding-morning, but what has happened since gives a
meaning to it."

"Most certainly it does. Your own opinion is, then, that some
unforeseen catastrophe has occurred to him?"

"Yes, sir. I believe that he foresaw some danger, or else he would
not have talked so. And then I think that what he foresaw happened."

"But you have no notion as to what it could have been?"

"None."

"One more question. How did your mother take the matter?"

"She was angry, and said that I was never to speak of the matter
again."

"And your father? Did you tell him?"

"Yes; and he seemed to think, with me, that something had happened,
and that I should hear of Hosmer again. As he said, what interest
could anyone have in bringing me to the doors of the church, and then
leaving me? Now, if he had borrowed my money, or if he had married me
and got my money settled on him, there might be some reason, but
Hosmer was very independent about money and never would look at a
shilling of mine. And yet, what could have happened? And why could he
not write? Oh, it drives me half-mad to think of it, and I can't
sleep a wink at night." She pulled a little handkerchief out of her
muff and began to sob heavily into it.

"I shall glance into the case for you," said Holmes, rising, "and I
have no doubt that we shall reach some definite result. Let the
weight of the matter rest upon me now, and do not let your mind dwell
upon it further. Above all, try to let Mr. Hosmer Angel vanish from
your memory, as he has done from your life."

"Then you don't think I'll see him again?"

"I fear not."

"Then what has happened to him?"

"You will leave that question in my hands. I should like an accurate
description of him and any letters of his which you can spare."

"I advertised for him in last Saturday's Chronicle," said she. "Here
is the slip and here are four letters from him."

"Thank you. And your address?"

"No. 31 Lyon Place, Camberwell."

"Mr. Angel's address you never had, I understand. Where is your

"Well, and what happened when Mr. Windibank, your stepfather,

returned to France?"

"Mr. Hosmer Angel came to the house again and proposed that we should

marry before father came back. He was in dreadful earnest and made me

swear, with my hands on the Testament, that whatever happened I would

always be true to him. Mother said he was quite right to make me

swear, and that it was a sign of his passion. Mother was all in his

favour from the first and was even fonder of him than I was. Then,

when they talked of marrying within the week, I began to ask about

father; but they both said never to mind about father, but just to

tell him afterwards, and mother said she would make it all right with

him. I didn't quite like that, Mr. Holmes. It seemed funny that I

should ask his leave, as he was only a few years older than me; but I

didn't want to do anything on the sly, so I wrote to father at

Bordeaux, where the company has its French offices, but the letter

came back to me on the very morning of the wedding."

"It missed him, then?"

"Yes, sir; for he had started to England just before it arrived."

"Ha! that was unfortunate. Your wedding was arranged, then, for the

Friday. Was it to be in church?"

"Yes, sir, but very quietly. It was to be at St. Saviour's, near

King's Cross, and we were to have breakfast afterwards at the St.

Pancras Hotel. Hosmer came for us in a hansom, but as there were two

of us he put us both into it and stepped himself into a four-wheeler,

which happened to be the only other cab in the street. We got to the

church first, and when the four-wheeler drove up we waited for him to

step out, but he never did, and when the cabman got down from the box

and looked there was no one there! The cabman said that he could not

imagine what had become of him, for he had seen him get in with his

own eyes. That was last Friday, Mr. Holmes, and I have never seen or

heard anything since then to throw any light upon what became of

him."

"It seems to me that you have been very shamefully treated," said

Holmes.

"Oh, no, sir! He was too good and kind to leave me so. Why, all the

morning he was saying to me that, whatever happened, I was to be

true; and that even if something quite unforeseen occurred to

separate us, I was always to remember that I was pledged to him, and

that he would claim his pledge sooner or later. It seemed strange

talk for a wedding-morning, but what has happened since gives a

meaning to it."

"Most certainly it does. Your own opinion is, then, that some

unforeseen catastrophe has occurred to him?"

"Yes, sir. I believe that he foresaw some danger, or else he would

not have talked so. And then I think that what he foresaw happened."

"But you have no notion as to what it could have been?"

"None."

"One more question. How did your mother take the matter?"

"She was angry, and said that I was never to speak of the matter

again."

"And your father? Did you tell him?"

"Yes; and he seemed to think, with me, that something had happened,

and that I should hear of Hosmer again. As he said, what interest

could anyone have in bringing me to the doors of the church, and then

leaving me? Now, if he had borrowed my money, or if he had married me

and got my money settled on him, there might be some reason, but

Hosmer was very independent about money and never would look at a

shilling of mine. And yet, what could have happened? And why could he

not write? Oh, it drives me half-mad to think of it, and I can't

sleep a wink at night." She pulled a little handkerchief out of her

muff and began to sob heavily into it.

"I shall glance into the case for you," said Holmes, rising, "and I

have no doubt that we shall reach some definite result. Let the

weight of the matter rest upon me now, and do not let your mind dwell

upon it further. Above all, try to let Mr. Hosmer Angel vanish from

your memory, as he has done from your life."

"Then you don't think I'll see him again?"

"I fear not."

"Then what has happened to him?"

"You will leave that question in my hands. I should like an accurate

description of him and any letters of his which you can spare."

"I advertised for him in last Saturday's Chronicle," said she. "Here

is the slip and here are four letters from him."

"Thank you. And your address?"

"No. 31 Lyon Place, Camberwell."

"Mr. Angel's address you never had, I understand. Where is your