DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 74
but I can hardly be expected to make merry over them. I think that
with your permission I will now wish you all a very good-night." He
included us all in a sweeping bow and stalked out of the room.

"Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your company,"
said Sherlock Holmes. "It is always a joy to meet an American, Mr.
Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that the folly of a
monarch and the blundering of a minister in far-gone years will not
prevent our children from being some day citizens of the same
world-wide country under a flag which shall be a quartering of the
Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes."

"The case has been an interesting one," remarked Holmes when our
visitors had left us, "because it serves to show very clearly how
simple the explanation may be of an affair which at first sight seems
to be almost inexplicable. Nothing could be more natural than the
sequence of events as narrated by this lady, and nothing stranger
than the result when viewed, for instance, by Mr. Lestrade of
Scotland Yard."

"You were not yourself at fault at all, then?"

"From the first, two facts were very obvious to me, the one that the
lady had been quite willing to undergo the wedding ceremony, the
other that she had repented of it within a few minutes of returning
home. Obviously something had occurred during the morning, then, to
cause her to change her mind. What could that something be? She could
not have spoken to anyone when she was out, for she had been in the
company of the bridegroom. Had she seen someone, then? If she had, it
must be someone from America because she had spent so short a time in
this country that she could hardly have allowed anyone to acquire so
deep an influence over her that the mere sight of him would induce
her to change her plans so completely. You see we have already
arrived, by a process of exclusion, at the idea that she might have
seen an American. Then who could this American be, and why should he
possess so much influence over her? It might be a lover; it might be
a husband. Her young womanhood had, I knew, been spent in rough
scenes and under strange conditions. So far I had got before I ever
heard Lord St. Simon's narrative. When he told us of a man in a pew,
of the change in the bride's manner, of so transparent a device for
obtaining a note as the dropping of a bouquet, of her resort to her
confidential maid, and of her very significant allusion to
claim-jumping--which in miners' parlance means taking possession of
that which another person has a prior claim to--the whole situation
became absolutely clear. She had gone off with a man, and the man was
either a lover or was a previous husband--the chances being in favour
of the latter."

"And how in the world did you find them?"

"It might have been difficult, but friend Lestrade held information
in his hands the value of which he did not himself know. The initials
were, of course, of the highest importance, but more valuable still
was it to know that within a week he had settled his bill at one of
the most select London hotels."

"How did you deduce the select?"

"By the select prices. Eight shillings for a bed and eightpence for a
glass of sherry pointed to one of the most expensive hotels. There
are not many in London which charge at that rate. In the second one
which I visited in Northumberland Avenue, I learned by an inspection
of the book that Francis H. Moulton, an American gentleman, had left
only the day before, and on looking over the entries against him, I
came upon the very items which I had seen in the duplicate bill. His
letters were to be forwarded to 226 Gordon Square; so thither I
travelled, and being fortunate enough to find the loving couple at
home, I ventured to give them some paternal advice and to point out
to them that it would be better in every way that they should make
their position a little clearer both to the general public and to
Lord St. Simon in particular. I invited them to meet him here, and,
as you see, I made him keep the appointment."

"But with no very good result," I remarked. "His conduct was
certainly not very gracious."

"Ah, Watson," said Holmes, smiling, "perhaps you would not be very
gracious either, if, after all the trouble of wooing and wedding, you
found yourself deprived in an instant of wife and of fortune. I think
that we may judge Lord St. Simon very mercifully and thank our stars
that we are never likely to find ourselves in the same position. Draw
your chair up and hand me my violin, for the only problem we have
still to solve is how to while away these bleak autumnal evenings."






THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET

"Holmes," said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking
down the street, "here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad
that his relatives should allow him to come out alone."

My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in
the pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a
bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still
lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down
the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly

but I can hardly be expected to make merry over them. I think that

with your permission I will now wish you all a very good-night." He

included us all in a sweeping bow and stalked out of the room.

"Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your company,"

said Sherlock Holmes. "It is always a joy to meet an American, Mr.

Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that the folly of a

monarch and the blundering of a minister in far-gone years will not

prevent our children from being some day citizens of the same

world-wide country under a flag which shall be a quartering of the

Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes."

"The case has been an interesting one," remarked Holmes when our

visitors had left us, "because it serves to show very clearly how

simple the explanation may be of an affair which at first sight seems

to be almost inexplicable. Nothing could be more natural than the

sequence of events as narrated by this lady, and nothing stranger

than the result when viewed, for instance, by Mr. Lestrade of

Scotland Yard."

"You were not yourself at fault at all, then?"

"From the first, two facts were very obvious to me, the one that the

lady had been quite willing to undergo the wedding ceremony, the

other that she had repented of it within a few minutes of returning

home. Obviously something had occurred during the morning, then, to

cause her to change her mind. What could that something be? She could

not have spoken to anyone when she was out, for she had been in the

company of the bridegroom. Had she seen someone, then? If she had, it

must be someone from America because she had spent so short a time in

this country that she could hardly have allowed anyone to acquire so

deep an influence over her that the mere sight of him would induce

her to change her plans so completely. You see we have already

arrived, by a process of exclusion, at the idea that she might have

seen an American. Then who could this American be, and why should he

possess so much influence over her? It might be a lover; it might be

a husband. Her young womanhood had, I knew, been spent in rough

scenes and under strange conditions. So far I had got before I ever

heard Lord St. Simon's narrative. When he told us of a man in a pew,

of the change in the bride's manner, of so transparent a device for

obtaining a note as the dropping of a bouquet, of her resort to her

confidential maid, and of her very significant allusion to

claim-jumping--which in miners' parlance means taking possession of

that which another person has a prior claim to--the whole situation

became absolutely clear. She had gone off with a man, and the man was

either a lover or was a previous husband--the chances being in favour

of the latter."

"And how in the world did you find them?"

"It might have been difficult, but friend Lestrade held information

in his hands the value of which he did not himself know. The initials

were, of course, of the highest importance, but more valuable still

was it to know that within a week he had settled his bill at one of

the most select London hotels."

"How did you deduce the select?"

"By the select prices. Eight shillings for a bed and eightpence for a

glass of sherry pointed to one of the most expensive hotels. There

are not many in London which charge at that rate. In the second one

which I visited in Northumberland Avenue, I learned by an inspection

of the book that Francis H. Moulton, an American gentleman, had left

only the day before, and on looking over the entries against him, I

came upon the very items which I had seen in the duplicate bill. His

letters were to be forwarded to 226 Gordon Square; so thither I

travelled, and being fortunate enough to find the loving couple at

home, I ventured to give them some paternal advice and to point out

to them that it would be better in every way that they should make

their position a little clearer both to the general public and to

Lord St. Simon in particular. I invited them to meet him here, and,

as you see, I made him keep the appointment."

"But with no very good result," I remarked. "His conduct was

certainly not very gracious."

"Ah, Watson," said Holmes, smiling, "perhaps you would not be very

gracious either, if, after all the trouble of wooing and wedding, you

found yourself deprived in an instant of wife and of fortune. I think

that we may judge Lord St. Simon very mercifully and thank our stars

that we are never likely to find ourselves in the same position. Draw

your chair up and hand me my violin, for the only problem we have

still to solve is how to while away these bleak autumnal evenings."

THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET

"Holmes," said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking

down the street, "here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad

that his relatives should allow him to come out alone."

My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in

the pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a

bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still

lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down

the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly