DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 74
strain no longer; I shall go mad if it continues. I have no one to
turn to--none, save only one, who cares for me, and he, poor fellow,
can be of little aid. I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes; I have heard
of you from Mrs. Farintosh, whom you helped in the hour of her sore
need. It was from her that I had your address. Oh, sir, do you not
think that you could help me, too, and at least throw a little light
through the dense darkness which surrounds me? At present it is out
of my power to reward you for your services, but in a month or six
weeks I shall be married, with the control of my own income, and then
at least you shall not find me ungrateful."

Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it, drew out a small
case-book, which he consulted.

"Farintosh," said he. "Ah yes, I recall the case; it was concerned
with an opal tiara. I think it was before your time, Watson. I can
only say, madam, that I shall be happy to devote the same care to
your case as I did to that of your friend. As to reward, my
profession is its own reward; but you are at liberty to defray
whatever expenses I may be put to, at the time which suits you best.
And now I beg that you will lay before us everything that may help us
in forming an opinion upon the matter."

"Alas!" replied our visitor, "the very horror of my situation lies in
the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions depend so
entirely upon small points, which might seem trivial to another, that
even he to whom of all others I have a right to look for help and
advice looks upon all that I tell him about it as the fancies of a
nervous woman. He does not say so, but I can read it from his
soothing answers and averted eyes. But I have heard, Mr. Holmes, that
you can see deeply into the manifold wickedness of the human heart.
You may advise me how to walk amid the dangers which encompass me."

"I am all attention, madam."

"My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, who is
the last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in England, the
Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of Surrey."

Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar to me," said he.

"The family was at one time among the richest in England, and the
estates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north, and
Hampshire in the west. In the last century, however, four successive
heirs were of a dissolute and wasteful disposition, and the family
ruin was eventually completed by a gambler in the days of the
Regency. Nothing was left save a few acres of ground, and the
two-hundred-year-old house, which is itself crushed under a heavy
mortgage. The last squire dragged out his existence there, living the
horrible life of an aristocratic pauper; but his only son, my
stepfather, seeing that he must adapt himself to the new conditions,
obtained an advance from a relative, which enabled him to take a
medical degree and went out to Calcutta, where, by his professional
skill and his force of character, he established a large practice. In
a fit of anger, however, caused by some robberies which had been
perpetrated in the house, he beat his native butler to death and
narrowly escaped a capital sentence. As it was, he suffered a long
term of imprisonment and afterwards returned to England a morose and
disappointed man.

"When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner, the
young widow of Major-General Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery. My
sister Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old at the
time of my mother's re-marriage. She had a considerable sum of
money--not less than £1000 a year--and this she bequeathed to Dr.
Roylott entirely while we resided with him, with a provision that a
certain annual sum should be allowed to each of us in the event of
our marriage. Shortly after our return to England my mother died--she
was killed eight years ago in a railway accident near Crewe. Dr.
Roylott then abandoned his attempts to establish himself in practice
in London and took us to live with him in the old ancestral house at
Stoke Moran. The money which my mother had left was enough for all
our wants, and there seemed to be no obstacle to our happiness.

"But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time.
Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our neighbours,
who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back
in the old family seat, he shut himself up in his house and seldom
came out save to indulge in ferocious quarrels with whoever might
cross his path. Violence of temper approaching to mania has been
hereditary in the men of the family, and in my stepfather's case it
had, I believe, been intensified by his long residence in the
tropics. A series of disgraceful brawls took place, two of which
ended in the police-court, until at last he became the terror of the
village, and the folks would fly at his approach, for he is a man of
immense strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger.

"Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a
stream, and it was only by paying over all the money which I could
gather together that I was able to avert another public exposure. He
had no friends at all save the wandering gypsies, and he would give
these vagabonds leave to encamp upon the few acres of bramble-covered
land which represent the family estate, and would accept in return
the hospitality of their tents, wandering away with them sometimes
for weeks on end. He has a passion also for Indian animals, which are
sent over to him by a correspondent, and he has at this moment a
cheetah and a baboon, which wander freely over his grounds and are
feared by the villagers almost as much as their master.

"You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I had

strain no longer; I shall go mad if it continues. I have no one to

turn to--none, save only one, who cares for me, and he, poor fellow,

can be of little aid. I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes; I have heard

of you from Mrs. Farintosh, whom you helped in the hour of her sore

need. It was from her that I had your address. Oh, sir, do you not

think that you could help me, too, and at least throw a little light

through the dense darkness which surrounds me? At present it is out

of my power to reward you for your services, but in a month or six

weeks I shall be married, with the control of my own income, and then

at least you shall not find me ungrateful."

Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it, drew out a small

case-book, which he consulted.

"Farintosh," said he. "Ah yes, I recall the case; it was concerned

with an opal tiara. I think it was before your time, Watson. I can

only say, madam, that I shall be happy to devote the same care to

your case as I did to that of your friend. As to reward, my

profession is its own reward; but you are at liberty to defray

whatever expenses I may be put to, at the time which suits you best.

And now I beg that you will lay before us everything that may help us

in forming an opinion upon the matter."

"Alas!" replied our visitor, "the very horror of my situation lies in

the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions depend so

entirely upon small points, which might seem trivial to another, that

even he to whom of all others I have a right to look for help and

advice looks upon all that I tell him about it as the fancies of a

nervous woman. He does not say so, but I can read it from his

soothing answers and averted eyes. But I have heard, Mr. Holmes, that

you can see deeply into the manifold wickedness of the human heart.

You may advise me how to walk amid the dangers which encompass me."

"I am all attention, madam."

"My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, who is

the last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in England, the

Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of Surrey."

Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar to me," said he.

"The family was at one time among the richest in England, and the

estates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north, and

Hampshire in the west. In the last century, however, four successive

heirs were of a dissolute and wasteful disposition, and the family

ruin was eventually completed by a gambler in the days of the

Regency. Nothing was left save a few acres of ground, and the

two-hundred-year-old house, which is itself crushed under a heavy

mortgage. The last squire dragged out his existence there, living the

horrible life of an aristocratic pauper; but his only son, my

stepfather, seeing that he must adapt himself to the new conditions,

obtained an advance from a relative, which enabled him to take a

medical degree and went out to Calcutta, where, by his professional

skill and his force of character, he established a large practice. In

a fit of anger, however, caused by some robberies which had been

perpetrated in the house, he beat his native butler to death and

narrowly escaped a capital sentence. As it was, he suffered a long

term of imprisonment and afterwards returned to England a morose and

disappointed man.

"When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner, the

young widow of Major-General Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery. My

sister Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old at the

time of my mother's re-marriage. She had a considerable sum of

money--not less than £1000 a year--and this she bequeathed to Dr.

Roylott entirely while we resided with him, with a provision that a

certain annual sum should be allowed to each of us in the event of

our marriage. Shortly after our return to England my mother died--she

was killed eight years ago in a railway accident near Crewe. Dr.

Roylott then abandoned his attempts to establish himself in practice

in London and took us to live with him in the old ancestral house at

Stoke Moran. The money which my mother had left was enough for all

our wants, and there seemed to be no obstacle to our happiness.

"But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time.

Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our neighbours,

who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back

in the old family seat, he shut himself up in his house and seldom

came out save to indulge in ferocious quarrels with whoever might

cross his path. Violence of temper approaching to mania has been

hereditary in the men of the family, and in my stepfather's case it

had, I believe, been intensified by his long residence in the

tropics. A series of disgraceful brawls took place, two of which

ended in the police-court, until at last he became the terror of the

village, and the folks would fly at his approach, for he is a man of

immense strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger.

"Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a

stream, and it was only by paying over all the money which I could

gather together that I was able to avert another public exposure. He

had no friends at all save the wandering gypsies, and he would give

these vagabonds leave to encamp upon the few acres of bramble-covered

land which represent the family estate, and would accept in return

the hospitality of their tents, wandering away with them sometimes

for weeks on end. He has a passion also for Indian animals, which are

sent over to him by a correspondent, and he has at this moment a

cheetah and a baboon, which wander freely over his grounds and are

feared by the villagers almost as much as their master.

"You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I had