DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 74
as I have sinned, I have led a life of martyrdom to atone for it. But
that my girl should be entangled in the same meshes which held me was
more than I could suffer. I struck him down with no more compunction
than if he had been some foul and venomous beast. His cry brought
back his son; but I had gained the cover of the wood, though I was
forced to go back to fetch the cloak which I had dropped in my
flight. That is the true story, gentlemen, of all that occurred."

"Well, it is not for me to judge you," said Holmes as the old man
signed the statement which had been drawn out. "I pray that we may
never be exposed to such a temptation."

"I pray not, sir. And what do you intend to do?"

"In view of your health, nothing. You are yourself aware that you
will soon have to answer for your deed at a higher court than the
Assizes. I will keep your confession, and if McCarthy is condemned I
shall be forced to use it. If not, it shall never be seen by mortal
eye; and your secret, whether you be alive or dead, shall be safe
with us."

"Farewell, then," said the old man solemnly. "Your own deathbeds,
when they come, will be the easier for the thought of the peace which
you have given to mine." Tottering and shaking in all his giant
frame, he stumbled slowly from the room.

"God help us!" said Holmes after a long silence. "Why does fate play
such tricks with poor, helpless worms? I never hear of such a case as
this that I do not think of Baxter's words, and say, 'There, but for
the grace of God, goes Sherlock Holmes.'"

James McCarthy was acquitted at the Assizes on the strength of a
number of objections which had been drawn out by Holmes and submitted
to the defending counsel. Old Turner lived for seven months after our
interview, but he is now dead; and there is every prospect that the
son and daughter may come to live happily together in ignorance of
the black cloud which rests upon their past.






THE FIVE ORANGE PIPS

When I glance over my notes and records of the Sherlock Holmes cases
between the years '82 and '90, I am faced by so many which present
strange and interesting features that it is no easy matter to know
which to choose and which to leave. Some, however, have already
gained publicity through the papers, and others have not offered a
field for those peculiar qualities which my friend possessed in so
high a degree, and which it is the object of these papers to
illustrate. Some, too, have baffled his analytical skill, and would
be, as narratives, beginnings without an ending, while others have
been but partially cleared up, and have their explanations founded
rather upon conjecture and surmise than on that absolute logical
proof which was so dear to him. There is, however, one of these last
which was so remarkable in its details and so startling in its
results that I am tempted to give some account of it in spite of the
fact that there are points in connection with it which never have
been, and probably never will be, entirely cleared up.

The year '87 furnished us with a long series of cases of greater or
less interest, of which I retain the records. Among my headings under
this one twelve months I find an account of the adventure of the
Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur Mendicant Society, who held a
luxurious club in the lower vault of a furniture warehouse, of the
facts connected with the loss of the British barque "Sophy Anderson",
of the singular adventures of the Grice Patersons in the island of
Uffa, and finally of the Camberwell poisoning case. In the latter, as
may be remembered, Sherlock Holmes was able, by winding up the dead
man's watch, to prove that it had been wound up two hours before, and
that therefore the deceased had gone to bed within that time--a
deduction which was of the greatest importance in clearing up the
case. All these I may sketch out at some future date, but none of
them present such singular features as the strange train of
circumstances which I have now taken up my pen to describe.

It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctial gales had
set in with exceptional violence. All day the wind had screamed and
the rain had beaten against the windows, so that even here in the
heart of great, hand-made London we were forced to raise our minds
for the instant from the routine of life and to recognise the
presence of those great elemental forces which shriek at mankind
through the bars of his civilisation, like untamed beasts in a cage.
As evening drew in, the storm grew higher and louder, and the wind
cried and sobbed like a child in the chimney. Sherlock Holmes sat
moodily at one side of the fireplace cross-indexing his records of
crime, while I at the other was deep in one of Clark Russell's fine
sea-stories until the howl of the gale from without seemed to blend
with the text, and the splash of the rain to lengthen out into the
long swash of the sea waves. My wife was on a visit to her mother's,
and for a few days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at
Baker Street.

"Why," said I, glancing up at my companion, "that was surely the
bell. Who could come to-night? Some friend of yours, perhaps?"

"Except yourself I have none," he answered. "I do not encourage
visitors."

as I have sinned, I have led a life of martyrdom to atone for it. But

that my girl should be entangled in the same meshes which held me was

more than I could suffer. I struck him down with no more compunction

than if he had been some foul and venomous beast. His cry brought

back his son; but I had gained the cover of the wood, though I was

forced to go back to fetch the cloak which I had dropped in my

flight. That is the true story, gentlemen, of all that occurred."

"Well, it is not for me to judge you," said Holmes as the old man

signed the statement which had been drawn out. "I pray that we may

never be exposed to such a temptation."

"I pray not, sir. And what do you intend to do?"

"In view of your health, nothing. You are yourself aware that you

will soon have to answer for your deed at a higher court than the

Assizes. I will keep your confession, and if McCarthy is condemned I

shall be forced to use it. If not, it shall never be seen by mortal

eye; and your secret, whether you be alive or dead, shall be safe

with us."

"Farewell, then," said the old man solemnly. "Your own deathbeds,

when they come, will be the easier for the thought of the peace which

you have given to mine." Tottering and shaking in all his giant

frame, he stumbled slowly from the room.

"God help us!" said Holmes after a long silence. "Why does fate play

such tricks with poor, helpless worms? I never hear of such a case as

this that I do not think of Baxter's words, and say, 'There, but for

the grace of God, goes Sherlock Holmes.'"

James McCarthy was acquitted at the Assizes on the strength of a

number of objections which had been drawn out by Holmes and submitted

to the defending counsel. Old Turner lived for seven months after our

interview, but he is now dead; and there is every prospect that the

son and daughter may come to live happily together in ignorance of

the black cloud which rests upon their past.

THE FIVE ORANGE PIPS

When I glance over my notes and records of the Sherlock Holmes cases

between the years '82 and '90, I am faced by so many which present

strange and interesting features that it is no easy matter to know

which to choose and which to leave. Some, however, have already

gained publicity through the papers, and others have not offered a

field for those peculiar qualities which my friend possessed in so

high a degree, and which it is the object of these papers to

illustrate. Some, too, have baffled his analytical skill, and would

be, as narratives, beginnings without an ending, while others have

been but partially cleared up, and have their explanations founded

rather upon conjecture and surmise than on that absolute logical

proof which was so dear to him. There is, however, one of these last

which was so remarkable in its details and so startling in its

results that I am tempted to give some account of it in spite of the

fact that there are points in connection with it which never have

been, and probably never will be, entirely cleared up.

The year '87 furnished us with a long series of cases of greater or

less interest, of which I retain the records. Among my headings under

this one twelve months I find an account of the adventure of the

Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur Mendicant Society, who held a

luxurious club in the lower vault of a furniture warehouse, of the

facts connected with the loss of the British barque "Sophy Anderson",

of the singular adventures of the Grice Patersons in the island of

Uffa, and finally of the Camberwell poisoning case. In the latter, as

may be remembered, Sherlock Holmes was able, by winding up the dead

man's watch, to prove that it had been wound up two hours before, and

that therefore the deceased had gone to bed within that time--a

deduction which was of the greatest importance in clearing up the

case. All these I may sketch out at some future date, but none of

them present such singular features as the strange train of

circumstances which I have now taken up my pen to describe.

It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctial gales had

set in with exceptional violence. All day the wind had screamed and

the rain had beaten against the windows, so that even here in the

heart of great, hand-made London we were forced to raise our minds

for the instant from the routine of life and to recognise the

presence of those great elemental forces which shriek at mankind

through the bars of his civilisation, like untamed beasts in a cage.

As evening drew in, the storm grew higher and louder, and the wind

cried and sobbed like a child in the chimney. Sherlock Holmes sat

moodily at one side of the fireplace cross-indexing his records of

crime, while I at the other was deep in one of Clark Russell's fine

sea-stories until the howl of the gale from without seemed to blend

with the text, and the splash of the rain to lengthen out into the

long swash of the sea waves. My wife was on a visit to her mother's,

and for a few days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at

Baker Street.

"Why," said I, glancing up at my companion, "that was surely the

bell. Who could come to-night? Some friend of yours, perhaps?"

"Except yourself I have none," he answered. "I do not encourage

visitors."