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nerves but also from his wounded feelings. His love for the lady was deep and sincere, and to him the saddest part of all this black business was that he should have been deceived by her. “It only remains to indicate the part which she had played throughout. There can be no doubt that Stapleton exercised an influence over her which may have been love or may have been fear, or very possibly both, since they are by no means incompatible emotions. It was, at least, absolutely effective. At his command she consented to pass as his sister, though he found the limits of his power over her when he endeavoured to make her the direct accessory to murder. She was ready to warn Sir Henry so far as she could without implicating her husband, and again and again she tried to do so. Stapleton himself seems to have been capable of jealousy, and when he saw the baronet paying | 2Doyle |
before meeting her at the coach-office, with the state of mind in whichI now reflected on the abyss between Estella in her pride and beauty,and the returned transport whom I harboured? The road would be none thesmoother for it, the end would be none the better for it, he would notbe helped, nor I extenuated.A new fear had been engendered in my mind by his narrative; or rather,his narrative had given form and purpose to the fear that was alreadythere. If Compeyson were alive and should discover his return, I couldhardly doubt the consequence. That Compeyson stood in mortal fear ofhim, neither of the two could know much better than I; and that anysuch man as that man had been described to be would hesitate to releasehimself for good from a dreaded enemy by the safe means of becoming aninformer was scarcely to be imagined.Never had I breathed, and never would I breathe—or so I resolved—a word | 1Dickens |
was a prospect of my regaining my freedom if certain expenses could be met. It meant everything to me—peace of mind, happiness, self-respect—everything. I knew Sir Charles’s generosity, and I thought that if he heard the story from my own lips he would help “Then how is it that you did not go?” “Because I received help in the interval from another source.” “Why then, did you not write to Sir Charles and explain this?” “So I should have done had I not seen his death in the paper next The woman’s story hung coherently together, and all my questions were unable to shake it. I could only check it by finding if she had, indeed, instituted divorce proceedings against her husband at or about the time of the tragedy. It was unlikely that she would dare to say that she had not been to Baskerville Hall if she really had been, for a trap would be | 2Doyle |
tidings had indeed come suddenly, but that I had always wanted to be agentleman, and had often and often speculated on what I would do, if I“Have you though?” said Joe. “Astonishing!”“It’s a pity now, Joe,” said I, “that you did not get on a little more,when we had our lessons here; isn’t it?”“Well, I don’t know,” returned Joe. “I’m so awful dull. I’m only masterof my own trade. It were always a pity as I was so awful dull; but it’sno more of a pity now, than it was—this day twelvemonth—don’t you see?”What I had meant was, that when I came into my property and was able todo something for Joe, it would have been much more agreeable if he hadbeen better qualified for a rise in station. He was so perfectlyinnocent of my meaning, however, that I thought I would mention it toSo, when we had walked home and had had tea, I took Biddy into our | 1Dickens |
accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with theproduction, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any ofthe following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of thisor any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, oradditions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) anySection 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution ofelectronic works in formats readable by the widest variety ofcomputers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. Itexists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donationsfrom people in all walks of life.Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with theassistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’sgoals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection willremain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the ProjectGutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure | 1Dickens |
it could not be shown that there had ever before been anything againsthim. He had for years been known as a professional beggar, but his lifeappeared to have been a very quiet and innocent one. There the matterstands at present, and the questions which have to be solved—whatNeville St. Clair was doing in the opium den, what happened to him whenthere, where is he now, and what Hugh Boone had to do with hisdisappearance—are all as far from a solution as ever. I confess that Icannot recall any case within my experience which looked at the firstglance so simple and yet which presented such difficulties.”While Sherlock Holmes had been detailing this singular series ofevents, we had been whirling through the outskirts of the great townuntil the last straggling houses had been left behind, and we rattledalong with a country hedge upon either side of us. Just as he finished,however, we drove through two scattered villages, where a few lights | 2Doyle |
sentiment. I have passed from one to another, in the course of mybusiness life, just as I pass from one of our customers to another inthe course of my business day; in short, I have no feelings; I am a meremachine. To go on--”“But this is my father’s story, sir; and I begin to think”--thecuriously roughened forehead was very intent upon him--“that when I wasleft an orphan through my mother’s surviving my father only two years,it was you who brought me to England. I am almost sure it was you.”Mr. Lorry took the hesitating little hand that confidingly advancedto take his, and he put it with some ceremony to his lips. He thenconducted the young lady straightway to her chair again, and, holdingthe chair-back with his left hand, and using his right by turns to rubhis chin, pull his wig at the ears, or point what he said, stood looking | 1Dickens |
people’s poor grandpapa’s positions!” Then he let himself down again,We all looked awkwardly at the tablecloth while this was going on. Apause succeeded, during which the honest and irrepressible baby made aseries of leaps and crows at little Jane, who appeared to me to be theonly member of the family (irrespective of servants) with whom it had“Mr. Drummle,” said Mrs. Pocket, “will you ring for Flopson? Jane, youundutiful little thing, go and lie down. Now, baby darling, come withThe baby was the soul of honour, and protested with all its might. Itdoubled itself up the wrong way over Mrs. Pocket’s arm, exhibited apair of knitted shoes and dimpled ankles to the company in lieu of itssoft face, and was carried out in the highest state of mutiny. And itgained its point after all, for I saw it through the window within afew minutes, being nursed by little Jane.It happened that the other five children were left behind at the | 1Dickens |
smell of scented soap on his great hand.“I wish to have a private conference with you two,” said he, when hehad surveyed me at his leisure. “It will take a little time. Perhaps wehad better go to your place of residence. I prefer not to anticipate mycommunication here; you will impart as much or as little of it as youplease to your friends afterwards; I have nothing to do with that.”Amidst a wondering silence, we three walked out of the Jolly Bargemen,and in a wondering silence walked home. While going along, the strangegentleman occasionally looked at me, and occasionally bit the side ofhis finger. As we neared home, Joe vaguely acknowledging the occasionas an impressive and ceremonious one, went on ahead to open the frontdoor. Our conference was held in the state parlour, which was feeblylighted by one candle.It began with the strange gentleman’s sitting down at the table,drawing the candle to him, and looking over some entries in his | 1Dickens |
It is known only to myself, and to one other who may be trusted.”The Doctor grasped his hand, and murmured, “That was very kind. That wasvery thoughtful!” Mr. Lorry grasped his hand in return, and neither ofthe two spoke for a little while.“Now, my dear Manette,” said Mr. Lorry, at length, in his mostconsiderate and most affectionate way, “I am a mere man of business,and unfit to cope with such intricate and difficult matters. I do notpossess the kind of information necessary; I do not possess the kind ofintelligence; I want guiding. There is no man in this world on whomI could so rely for right guidance, as on you. Tell me, how does thisrelapse come about? Is there danger of another? Could a repetition of itbe prevented? How should a repetition of it be treated? How does it comeabout at all? What can I do for my friend? No man ever can have been | 1Dickens |
that?” said I. “What do you think is the cause of so strange a “Bogs make queer noises sometimes. It’s the mud settling, or the water rising, or something.” “No, no, that was a living voice.” “Well, perhaps it was. Did you ever hear a bittern booming?” “No, I never did.” “It’s a very rare bird—practically extinct—in England now, but all things are possible upon the moor. Yes, I should not be surprised to learn that what we have heard is the cry of the last “It’s the weirdest, strangest thing that ever I heard in my “Yes, it’s rather an uncanny place altogether. Look at the hillside yonder. What do you make of those?” The whole steep slope was covered with grey circular rings of stone, a score of them at least. “What are they? Sheep-pens?” “No, they are the homes of our worthy ancestors. Prehistoric man lived thickly on the moor, and as no one in particular has lived | 2Doyle |
should go down with the soldiers and see what came of the hunt. Mr.Pumblechook and Mr. Hubble declined, on the plea of a pipe and ladies’society; but Mr. Wopsle said he would go, if Joe would. Joe said he wasagreeable, and would take me, if Mrs. Joe approved. We never shouldhave got leave to go, I am sure, but for Mrs. Joe’s curiosity to knowall about it and how it ended. As it was, she merely stipulated, “Ifyou bring the boy back with his head blown to bits by a musket, don’tlook to me to put it together again.”The sergeant took a polite leave of the ladies, and parted from Mr.Pumblechook as from a comrade; though I doubt if he were quite as fullysensible of that gentleman’s merits under arid conditions, as whensomething moist was going. His men resumed their muskets and fell in.Mr. Wopsle, Joe, and I, received strict charge to keep in the rear, and | 1Dickens |
stood surprisingly long, went to the winds, and Saint Antoine had gotIt was known directly, to the furthest confines of the crowd. Defargehad but sprung over a railing and a table, and folded the miserablewretch in a deadly embrace--Madame Defarge had but followed and turnedher hand in one of the ropes with which he was tied--The Vengeance andJacques Three were not yet up with them, and the men at the windowshad not yet swooped into the Hall, like birds of prey from their highperches--when the cry seemed to go up, all over the city, “Bring himout! Bring him to the lamp!”Down, and up, and head foremost on the steps of the building; now, onhis knees; now, on his feet; now, on his back; dragged, and struck at,and stifled by the bunches of grass and straw that were thrust into hisface by hundreds of hands; torn, bruised, panting, bleeding, yet always | 1Dickens |
finger upon the little disc and loop of the hat-securer. “They arenever sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a sign of acertain amount of foresight, since he went out of his way to take thisprecaution against the wind. But since we see that he has broken theelastic and has not troubled to replace it, it is obvious that he hasless foresight now than formerly, which is a distinct proof of aweakening nature. On the other hand, he has endeavoured to conceal someof these stains upon the felt by daubing them with ink, which is a signthat he has not entirely lost his self-respect.”“Your reasoning is certainly plausible.”“The further points, that he is middle-aged, that his hair is grizzled,that it has been recently cut, and that he uses lime-cream, are all tobe gathered from a close examination of the lower part of the lining.The lens discloses a large number of hair-ends, clean cut by the | 2Doyle |
forth in Section 3 below.1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerableeffort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofreadworks not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the ProjectGutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, maycontain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurateor corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or otherintellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk orother medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage orcannot be read by your equipment.1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Rightof Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the ProjectGutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the ProjectGutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a ProjectGutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim allliability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legalfees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICTLIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE | 1Dickens |
Joe (who was a good judge) agreed, and Mr. Wopsle (who was a bad judge)agreed. The sergeant, a decisive man, ordered that the sound should notbe answered, but that the course should be changed, and that his menshould make towards it “at the double.” So we slanted to the right(where the East was), and Joe pounded away so wonderfully, that I hadto hold on tight to keep my seat.It was a run indeed now, and what Joe called, in the only two words hespoke all the time, “a Winder.” Down banks and up banks, and overgates, and splashing into dikes, and breaking among coarse rushes: noman cared where he went. As we came nearer to the shouting, it becamemore and more apparent that it was made by more than one voice.Sometimes, it seemed to stop altogether, and then the soldiers stopped.When it broke out again, the soldiers made for it at a greater rate | 1Dickens |
“He had one big brown bag with him—nothing else.”“Well, we don’t seem to have much material to help us. Do you saynothing has come out of that room—absolutely nothing?”The landlady drew an envelope from her bag; from it she shook out twoburnt matches and a cigarette-end upon the table.“They were on his tray this morning. I brought them because I had heardthat you can read great things out of small ones.”Holmes shrugged his shoulders.“There is nothing here,” said he. “The matches have, of course, beenused to light cigarettes. That is obvious from the shortness of theburnt end. Half the match is consumed in lighting a pipe or cigar. But,dear me! this cigarette stub is certainly remarkable. The gentleman wasbearded and moustached, you say?”“I don’t understand that. I should say that only a clean-shaven mancould have smoked this. Why, Watson, even your modest moustache would“A holder?” I suggested.“No, no; the end is matted. I suppose there could not be two people in | 2Doyle |
Any one might have seen in her haggard face that there was nosuppression or evasion so far.“But when I fell into the mistake I have so long remained in, at leastyou led me on?” said I.“Yes,” she returned, again nodding steadily, “I let you go on.”“Who am I,” cried Miss Havisham, striking her stick upon the floor andflashing into wrath so suddenly that Estella glanced up at her insurprise,—“who am I, for God’s sake, that I should be kind?”It was a weak complaint to have made, and I had not meant to make it. Itold her so, as she sat brooding after this outburst.“Well, well, well!” she said. “What else?”“I was liberally paid for my old attendance here,” I said, to sootheher, “in being apprenticed, and I have asked these questions only formy own information. What follows has another (and I hope moredisinterested) purpose. In humouring my mistake, Miss Havisham, you | 1Dickens |
say, he began to think that the source and secret of thisghostly light might be in the adjoining room, from whence,on further tracing it, it seemed to shine. This idea takingfull possession of his mind, he got up softly and shuffled inhis slippers to the door.The moment Scrooge's hand was on the lock, a strangevoice called him by his name, and bade him enter. HeIt was his own room. There was no doubt about that.But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The wallsand ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked aperfect grove; from every part of which, bright gleamingberries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, andivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors hadbeen scattered there; and such a mighty blaze went roaringup the chimney, as that dull petrification of a hearth hadnever known in Scrooge's time, or Marley's, or for many and | 1Dickens |
“You told me, Mr. Jaggers, that it might be years hence when that“Just so,” said Mr. Jaggers, “that’s my answer.”As we looked full at one another, I felt my breath come quicker in mystrong desire to get something out of him. And as I felt that it camequicker, and as I felt that he saw that it came quicker, I felt that Ihad less chance than ever of getting anything out of him.“Do you suppose it will still be years hence, Mr. Jaggers?”Mr. Jaggers shook his head,—not in negativing the question, but inaltogether negativing the notion that he could anyhow be got to answerit,—and the two horrible casts of the twitched faces looked, when myeyes strayed up to them, as if they had come to a crisis in theirsuspended attention, and were going to sneeze.“Come!” said Mr. Jaggers, warming the backs of his legs with the backsof his warmed hands, “I’ll be plain with you, my friend Pip. That’s a | 1Dickens |
“Do I date it?”The prisoner looked up, at each question. Carton, standing over him withhis hand in his breast, looked down.“‘If you remember,’” said Carton, dictating, “‘the words that passedbetween us, long ago, you will readily comprehend this when you see it.You do remember them, I know. It is not in your nature to forget them.’”He was drawing his hand from his breast; the prisoner chancing to lookup in his hurried wonder as he wrote, the hand stopped, closing upon“Have you written ‘forget them’?” Carton asked.“I have. Is that a weapon in your hand?”“No; I am not armed.”“What is it in your hand?”“You shall know directly. Write on; there are but a few words more.” Hedictated again. “‘I am thankful that the time has come, when I can provethem. That I do so is no subject for regret or grief.’” As he said thesewords with his eyes fixed on the writer, his hand slowly and softly | 1Dickens |
chair, the wreck and ruin of a noble man.One night—it was in June, ’89—there came a ring to my bell, about thehour when a man gives his first yawn and glances at the clock. I sat upin my chair, and my wife laid her needle-work down in her lap and madea little face of disappointment.“A patient!” said she. “You’ll have to go out.”I groaned, for I was newly come back from a weary day.We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps uponthe linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in somedark-coloured stuff, with a black veil, entered the room.“You will excuse my calling so late,” she began, and then, suddenlylosing her self-control, she ran forward, threw her arms about mywife’s neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. “Oh, I’m in such trouble!”she cried; “I do so want a little help.”“Why,” said my wife, pulling up her veil, “it is Kate Whitney. How you | 2Doyle |
And then they stood about, as soldiers do; now, with their handsloosely clasped before them; now, resting a knee or a shoulder; now,easing a belt or a pouch; now, opening the door to spit stiffly overtheir high stocks, out into the yard.All these things I saw without then knowing that I saw them, for I wasin an agony of apprehension. But beginning to perceive that thehandcuffs were not for me, and that the military had so far got thebetter of the pie as to put it in the background, I collected a littlemore of my scattered wits.“Would you give me the time?” said the sergeant, addressing himself toMr. Pumblechook, as to a man whose appreciative powers justified theinference that he was equal to the time.“It’s just gone half past two.”“That’s not so bad,” said the sergeant, reflecting; “even if I wasforced to halt here nigh two hours, that’ll do. How far might you call | 1Dickens |
“Driving back in the evening from Coombe Tracey he was in time to get his hound, to treat it with his infernal paint, and to bring the beast round to the gate at which he had reason to expect that he would find the old gentleman waiting. The dog, incited by its master, sprang over the wicket-gate and pursued the unfortunate baronet, who fled screaming down the yew alley. In that gloomy tunnel it must indeed have been a dreadful sight to see that huge black creature, with its flaming jaws and blazing eyes, bounding after its victim. He fell dead at the end of the alley from heart disease and terror. The hound had kept upon the grassy border while the baronet had run down the path, so that no track but the man’s was visible. On seeing him lying still the creature had probably approached to sniff at him, but finding him dead had | 2Doyle |
than usual, owing to the season, I was very much alarmed by a harehanging up by the heels, whom I rather thought I caught, when my backwas half turned, winking. I had no time for verification, no time forselection, no time for anything, for I had no time to spare. I stolesome bread, some rind of cheese, about half a jar of mincemeat (which Itied up in my pocket-handkerchief with my last night’s slice), somebrandy from a stone bottle (which I decanted into a glass bottle I hadsecretly used for making that intoxicating fluid,Spanish-liquorice-water, up in my room: diluting the stone bottle froma jug in the kitchen cupboard), a meat bone with very little on it, anda beautiful round compact pork pie. I was nearly going away without thepie, but I was tempted to mount upon a shelf, to look what it was thatwas put away so carefully in a covered earthenware dish in a corner, | 1Dickens |
“Come!” said the stranger, “I’ll help you. You don’t deserve help, butI’ll help you. Look at that paper you hold in your hand. What is it?”“What is it?” repeated Mr. Wopsle, eyeing it, much at a loss.“Is it,” pursued the stranger in his most sarcastic and suspiciousmanner, “the printed paper you have just been reading from?”“Undoubtedly. Now, turn to that paper, and tell me whether itdistinctly states that the prisoner expressly said that his legaladvisers instructed him altogether to reserve his defence?”“I read that just now,” Mr. Wopsle pleaded.“Never mind what you read just now, sir; I don’t ask you what you readjust now. You may read the Lord’s Prayer backwards, if you like,—and,perhaps, have done it before to-day. Turn to the paper. No, no, no myfriend; not to the top of the column; you know better than that; to thebottom, to the bottom.” (We all began to think Mr. Wopsle full of | 1Dickens |
resistless, inexorable evil, which no foresight and no precautions can“Tut! tut!” cried Sherlock Holmes. “You must act, man, or you are lost.Nothing but energy can save you. This is no time for despair.”“I have seen the police.”“But they listened to my story with a smile. I am convinced that theinspector has formed the opinion that the letters are all practicaljokes, and that the deaths of my relations were really accidents, asthe jury stated, and were not to be connected with the warnings.”Holmes shook his clenched hands in the air. “Incredible imbecility!” he“They have, however, allowed me a policeman, who may remain in the“Has he come with you to-night?”“No. His orders were to stay in the house.”Again Holmes raved in the air.“Why did you come to me?” he said, “and, above all, why did you not“I did not know. It was only to-day that I spoke to Major Prendergastabout my troubles and was advised by him to come to you.” | 2Doyle |
voice called to the driver to stop.“The carriage stopped as soon as the driver could rein in his horses,and the same voice called to me by my name. I answered. The carriagewas then so far in advance of me that two gentlemen had time to open thedoor and alight before I came up with it.“I observed that they were both wrapped in cloaks, and appeared toconceal themselves. As they stood side by side near the carriage door,I also observed that they both looked of about my own age, or ratheryounger, and that they were greatly alike, in stature, manner, voice,and (as far as I could see) face too.“‘You are Doctor Manette?’ said one.“‘Doctor Manette, formerly of Beauvais,’ said the other; ‘the youngphysician, originally an expert surgeon, who within the last year or twohas made a rising reputation in Paris?’“‘Gentlemen,’ I returned, ‘I am that Doctor Manette of whom you speak so | 1Dickens |
evident that he hailed the adventure as a relief to his somewhat quiet life upon the moor. The baronet has been in communication with the architect who prepared the plans for Sir Charles, and with a contractor from London, so that we may expect great changes to begin here soon. There have been decorators and furnishers up from Plymouth, and it is evident that our friend has large ideas and means to spare no pains or expense to restore the grandeur of his family. When the house is renovated and refurnished, all that he will need will be a wife to make it complete. Between ourselves there are pretty clear signs that this will not be wanting if the lady is willing, for I have seldom seen a man more infatuated with a woman than he is with our beautiful neighbour, Miss Stapleton. And yet the course of true love does not run quite as smoothly as | 2Doyle |
her hands. “And in his last breath reproached me for stooping to a“There is no doubt you do,” said I, something hurriedly, “for I haveseen you give him looks and smiles this very night, such as you never“Do you want me then,” said Estella, turning suddenly with a fixed andserious, if not angry, look, “to deceive and entrap you?”“Do you deceive and entrap him, Estella?”“Yes, and many others,—all of them but you. Here is Mrs. Brandley. I’llAnd now that I have given the one chapter to the theme that so filledmy heart, and so often made it ache and ache again, I pass onunhindered, to the event that had impended over me longer yet; theevent that had begun to be prepared for, before I knew that the worldheld Estella, and in the days when her baby intelligence was receivingits first distortions from Miss Havisham’s wasting hands.In the Eastern story, the heavy slab that was to fall on the bed of | 1Dickens |
one-and-twenty, and a queen.We went into the house by a side door, the great front entrance had twochains across it outside,—and the first thing I noticed was, that thepassages were all dark, and that she had left a candle burning there.She took it up, and we went through more passages and up a staircase,and still it was all dark, and only the candle lighted us.At last we came to the door of a room, and she said, “Go in.”I answered, more in shyness than politeness, “After you, miss.”To this she returned: “Don’t be ridiculous, boy; I am not going in.”And scornfully walked away, and—what was worse—took the candle withThis was very uncomfortable, and I was half afraid. However, the onlything to be done being to knock at the door, I knocked, and was toldfrom within to enter. I entered, therefore, and found myself in apretty large room, well lighted with wax candles. No glimpse of | 1Dickens |
half afraid that I might be too late to assist at the _dénouement_ ofthe little mystery. I found Sherlock Holmes alone, however, halfasleep, with his long, thin form curled up in the recesses of hisarmchair. A formidable array of bottles and test-tubes, with thepungent cleanly smell of hydrochloric acid, told me that he had spenthis day in the chemical work which was so dear to him.“Well, have you solved it?” I asked as I entered.“Yes. It was the bisulphate of baryta.”“No, no, the mystery!” I cried.“Oh, that! I thought of the salt that I have been working upon. Therewas never any mystery in the matter, though, as I said yesterday, someof the details are of interest. The only drawback is that there is nolaw, I fear, that can touch the scoundrel.”“Who was he, then, and what was his object in deserting MissThe question was hardly out of my mouth, and Holmes had not yet opened | 2Doyle |
like a ghost at the farther end. “Was it here?” he asked in a low voice. “No, no, the yew alley is on the other side.” The young heir glanced round with a gloomy face. “It’s no wonder my uncle felt as if trouble were coming on him in such a place as this,” said he. “It’s enough to scare any man. I’ll have a row of electric lamps up here inside of six months, and you won’t know it again, with a thousand candle-power Swan and Edison right here in front of the hall door.” The avenue opened into a broad expanse of turf, and the house lay before us. In the fading light I could see that the centre was a heavy block of building from which a porch projected. The whole front was draped in ivy, with a patch clipped bare here and there where a window or a coat of arms broke through the dark veil. | 2Doyle |
the favour to begin at once to call me by my Christian name, Herbert?”I thanked him and said I would. I informed him in exchange that myChristian name was Philip.“I don’t take to Philip,” said he, smiling, “for it sounds like a moralboy out of the spelling-book, who was so lazy that he fell into a pond,or so fat that he couldn’t see out of his eyes, or so avaricious thathe locked up his cake till the mice ate it, or so determined to go abird’s-nesting that he got himself eaten by bears who lived handy inthe neighbourhood. I tell you what I should like. We are so harmonious,and you have been a blacksmith,—would you mind it?”“I shouldn’t mind anything that you propose,” I answered, “but I don’t“Would you mind Handel for a familiar name? There’s a charming piece ofmusic by Handel, called the Harmonious Blacksmith.”“I should like it very much.” | 1Dickens |
assure myself that there were no red marks about; then opened the doorto look out into the passages, and cheer myself with the companionshipof a distant light, near which I knew the chamberlain to be dozing. Butall this time, why I was not to go home, and what had happened at home,and when I should go home, and whether Provis was safe at home, werequestions occupying my mind so busily, that one might have supposedthere could be no more room in it for any other theme. Even when Ithought of Estella, and how we had parted that day forever, and when Irecalled all the circumstances of our parting, and all her looks andtones, and the action of her fingers while she knitted,—even then I waspursuing, here and there and everywhere, the caution, Don’t go home.When at last I dozed, in sheer exhaustion of mind and body, it became avast shadowy verb which I had to conjugate. Imperative mood, present | 1Dickens |
to see him wash his hands of her; it was, that my admiration should bewithin a foot or two of him,—it was, that my feelings should be in thesame place with him,—_that_, was the agonizing circumstance.We played until nine o’clock, and then it was arranged that whenEstella came to London I should be forewarned of her coming and shouldmeet her at the coach; and then I took leave of her, and touched herMy guardian lay at the Boar in the next room to mine. Far into thenight, Miss Havisham’s words, “Love her, love her, love her!” soundedin my ears. I adapted them for my own repetition, and said to mypillow, “I love her, I love her, I love her!” hundreds of times. Then,a burst of gratitude came upon me, that she should be destined for me,once the blacksmith’s boy. Then I thought if she were, as I feared, byno means rapturously grateful for that destiny yet, when would she | 1Dickens |
“On some hay on the ground, with a cushion thrown under his head, lay ahandsome peasant boy--a boy of not more than seventeen at the most.He lay on his back, with his teeth set, his right hand clenched on hisbreast, and his glaring eyes looking straight upward. I could not seewhere his wound was, as I kneeled on one knee over him; but, I could seethat he was dying of a wound from a sharp point.“‘I am a doctor, my poor fellow,’ said I. ‘Let me examine it.’“‘I do not want it examined,’ he answered; ‘let it be.’“It was under his hand, and I soothed him to let me move his hand away.The wound was a sword-thrust, received from twenty to twenty-four hoursbefore, but no skill could have saved him if it had been looked towithout delay. He was then dying fast. As I turned my eyes to the elder | 1Dickens |
“Should I fling myself away upon the man who would the soonest feel (ifpeople do feel such things) that I took nothing to him? There! It isdone. I shall do well enough, and so will my husband. As to leading meinto what you call this fatal step, Miss Havisham would have had mewait, and not marry yet; but I am tired of the life I have led, whichhas very few charms for me, and I am willing enough to change it. Sayno more. We shall never understand each other.”“Such a mean brute, such a stupid brute!” I urged, in despair.“Don’t be afraid of my being a blessing to him,” said Estella; “I shallnot be that. Come! Here is my hand. Do we part on this, you visionary“O Estella!” I answered, as my bitter tears fell fast on her hand, dowhat I would to restrain them; “even if I remained in England and could | 1Dickens |
likely. On the issue of this question depended whether I shouldcontinue my work at Briony Lodge, or turn my attention to thegentleman’s chambers in the Temple. It was a delicate point, and itwidened the field of my inquiry. I fear that I bore you with thesedetails, but I have to let you see my little difficulties, if you areto understand the situation.”“I am following you closely,” I answered.“I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom cab drove upto Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a remarkablyhandsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached—evidently the man of whomI had heard. He appeared to be in a great hurry, shouted to the cabmanto wait, and brushed past the maid who opened the door with the air ofa man who was thoroughly at home.“He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch glimpses of | 2Doyle |
might have got a hearse up that staircase, and takenit broadwise, with the splinter-bar towards the walland the door towards the balustrades: and done iteasy. There was plenty of width for that, and roomto spare; which is perhaps the reason why Scroogethought he saw a locomotive hearse going on beforehim in the gloom. Half-a-dozen gas-lamps out ofthe street wouldn't have lighted the entry too well,so you may suppose that it was pretty dark withUp Scrooge went, not caring a button for that.Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it. But beforehe shut his heavy door, he walked through his roomsto see that all was right. He had just enough recollectionof the face to desire to do that.Sitting-room, bedroom, lumber-room. All as theyshould be. Nobody under the table, nobody underthe sofa; a small fire in the grate; spoon and basinready; and the little saucepan of gruel (Scrooge hada cold in his head) upon the hob. Nobody under the | 1Dickens |
“I have already said that I owe a great deal to his kindness. If I am able to support myself it is largely due to the interest which he took in my unhappy situation.” “Did you correspond with him?” The lady looked quickly up with an angry gleam in her hazel eyes. “What is the object of these questions?” she asked sharply. “The object is to avoid a public scandal. It is better that I should ask them here than that the matter should pass outside our She was silent and her face was still very pale. At last she looked up with something reckless and defiant in her manner. “Well, I’ll answer,” she said. “What are your questions?” “Did you correspond with Sir Charles?” “I certainly wrote to him once or twice to acknowledge his delicacy and his generosity.” “Have you the dates of those letters?” “Have you ever met him?” | 2Doyle |
themselves to a more favourable hypothesis. Let us suppose, forexample, that he had been approached by some foreign agent. It mighthave been done under such pledges as would have prevented him fromspeaking of it, and yet would have affected his thoughts in thedirection indicated by his remarks to his fiancée. Very good. We willnow suppose that as he went to the theatre with the young lady hesuddenly, in the fog, caught a glimpse of this same agent going in thedirection of the office. He was an impetuous man, quick in hisdecisions. Everything gave way to his duty. He followed the man,reached the window, saw the abstraction of the documents, and pursuedthe thief. In this way we get over the objection that no one would takeoriginals when he could make copies. This outsider had to takeoriginals. So far it holds together.”“What is the next step?”“Then we come into difficulties. One would imagine that under such | 2Doyle |
rules, into the interior of the jail. At that time jails were muchneglected, and the period of exaggerated reaction consequent on allpublic wrongdoing—and which is always its heaviest and longestpunishment—was still far off. So, felons were not lodged and fed betterthan soldiers (to say nothing of paupers), and seldom set fire to theirprisons with the excusable object of improving the flavour of theirsoup. It was visiting time when Wemmick took me in, and a potman wasgoing his rounds with beer; and the prisoners, behind bars in yards,were buying beer, and talking to friends; and a frowzy, ugly,disorderly, depressing scene it was.It struck me that Wemmick walked among the prisoners much as a gardenermight walk among his plants. This was first put into my head by hisseeing a shoot that had come up in the night, and saying, “What,Captain Tom? Are _you_ there? Ah, indeed!” and also, “Is that BlackBill behind the cistern? Why I didn’t look for you these two months; | 1Dickens |
“You seem to know this quarter well; that is to say, better than I do?”“Not at all, but I hope to know it better. I am so profoundly interestedin its miserable inhabitants.”“The pleasure of conversing with you, Monsieur Defarge, recalls to me,” pursued the spy, “that I have the honour of cherishing some interestingassociations with your name.”“Indeed!” said Defarge, with much indifference.“Yes, indeed. When Doctor Manette was released, you, his old domestic,had the charge of him, I know. He was delivered to you. You see I aminformed of the circumstances?”“Such is the fact, certainly,” said Defarge. He had had it conveyedto him, in an accidental touch of his wife’s elbow as she knitted andwarbled, that he would do best to answer, but always with brevity.“It was to you,” said the spy, “that his daughter came; and it wasfrom your care that his daughter took him, accompanied by a neat brown | 1Dickens |
the Hatherley side of the pool the woods grew very thick, and there wasa narrow belt of sodden grass twenty paces across between the edge ofthe trees and the reeds which lined the lake. Lestrade showed us theexact spot at which the body had been found, and, indeed, so moist wasthe ground, that I could plainly see the traces which had been left bythe fall of the stricken man. To Holmes, as I could see by his eagerface and peering eyes, very many other things were to be read upon thetrampled grass. He ran round, like a dog who is picking up a scent, andthen turned upon my companion.“What did you go into the pool for?” he asked.“I fished about with a rake. I thought there might be some weapon orother trace. But how on earth—”“Oh, tut, tut! I have no time! That left foot of yours with its inward | 2Doyle |
down on his knee to open it, my convict looked round him for the firsttime, and saw me. I had alighted from Joe’s back on the brink of theditch when we came up, and had not moved since. I looked at him eagerlywhen he looked at me, and slightly moved my hands and shook my head. Ihad been waiting for him to see me that I might try to assure him of myinnocence. It was not at all expressed to me that he even comprehendedmy intention, for he gave me a look that I did not understand, and itall passed in a moment. But if he had looked at me for an hour or for aday, I could not have remembered his face ever afterwards, as havingThe soldier with the basket soon got a light, and lighted three or fourtorches, and took one himself and distributed the others. It had been | 1Dickens |
did what I could to relieve his pain. We were all assembled round himwhen the door opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room.“Mrs. Toller!” cried Miss Hunter.“Yes, miss. Mr. Rucastle let me out when he came back before he went upto you. Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn’t let me know what you wereplanning, for I would have told you that your pains were wasted.”“Ha!” said Holmes, looking keenly at her. “It is clear that Mrs. Tollerknows more about this matter than anyone else.”“Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know.”“Then, pray, sit down, and let us hear it for there are several pointson which I must confess that I am still in the dark.”“I will soon make it clear to you,” said she; “and I’d have done sobefore now if I could ha’ got out from the cellar. If there’s | 2Doyle |
the Dodo suddenly called "The race is over!" and they all crowded roundit, panting, and asking "But who has won?"This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought,and it stood for a long time with one finger pressed upon its forehead(the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures ofhim), while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo said"_Everybody_ has won, and _all_ must have prizes.""But who is to give the prizes?" quite a chorus of voices asked."Why, _she_, of course," said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with onefinger; and the whole party at once crowded round her, calling out in aconfused way, "Prizes! Prizes!"Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand in herpocket, and pulled out a box of comfits (luckily the salt water had notgot into it), and handed them round as prizes. There was exactly one | 0Caroll |
it was hardly six before he began to talk with the same feverish“Now, Watson,” said he. “Have you any change in your pocket?”“Ah, too few! Too few! How very unfortunate, Watson! However, such asthey are you can put them in your watchpocket. And all the rest of yourmoney in your left trouser pocket. Thank you. It will balance you somuch better like that.”This was raving insanity. He shuddered, and again made a sound betweena cough and a sob.“You will now light the gas, Watson, but you will be very careful thatnot for one instant shall it be more than half on. I implore you to becareful, Watson. Thank you, that is excellent. No, you need not drawthe blind. Now you will have the kindness to place some letters andpapers upon this table within my reach. Thank you. Now some of thatlitter from the mantelpiece. Excellent, Watson! There is a sugar-tongs | 2Doyle |
be in danger of her life. All I can do is to watch the house and leavemy agent, Warner, on guard at the gates. We can’t let such a situationcontinue. If the law can do nothing we must take the risk ourselves.”“What do you suggest?”“I know which is her room. It is accessible from the top of anouthouse. My suggestion is that you and I go to-night and see if we canstrike at the very heart of the mystery.”It was not, I must confess, a very alluring prospect. The old housewith its atmosphere of murder, the singular and formidable inhabitants,the unknown dangers of the approach, and the fact that we were puttingourselves legally in a false position all combined to damp my ardour.But there was something in the ice-cold reasoning of Holmes which madeit impossible to shrink from any adventure which he might recommend.One knew that thus, and only thus, could a solution be found. I clasped | 2Doyle |
him, on which he had to confess that I was right and to add the veryfew details which were not yet quite clear to me. Your news of thismorning, however, may open his lips.”“For Heaven’s sake, tell me, then, what is this extraordinary mystery!”“I will do so, and I will show you the steps by which I reached it. Andlet me say to you, first, that which it is hardest for me to say andfor you to hear: there has been an understanding between Sir GeorgeBurnwell and your niece Mary. They have now fled together.”“It is unfortunately more than possible; it is certain. Neither you noryour son knew the true character of this man when you admitted him intoyour family circle. He is one of the most dangerous men in England—aruined gambler, an absolutely desperate villain, a man without heart orconscience. Your niece knew nothing of such men. When he breathed his | 2Doyle |
murdered—the one frightened to death by the very sight of a beast which he thought to be supernatural, the other driven to his end in his wild flight to escape from it. But now we have to prove the connection between the man and the beast. Save from what we heard, we cannot even swear to the existence of the latter, since Sir Henry has evidently died from the fall. But, by heavens, cunning as he is, the fellow shall be in my power before another We stood with bitter hearts on either side of the mangled body, overwhelmed by this sudden and irrevocable disaster which had brought all our long and weary labours to so piteous an end. Then as the moon rose we climbed to the top of the rocks over which our poor friend had fallen, and from the summit we gazed out over the shadowy moor, half silver and half gloom. Far away, miles | 2Doyle |
book,—this here little black book, dear boy, what I swore your comrade“Not to go into the things that Compeyson planned, and I done—which ’udtake a week—I’ll simply say to you, dear boy, and Pip’s comrade, thatthat man got me into such nets as made me his black slave. I was alwaysin debt to him, always under his thumb, always a working, always agetting into danger. He was younger than me, but he’d got craft, andhe’d got learning, and he overmatched me five hundred times told and nomercy. My Missis as I had the hard time wi’—Stop though! I ain’tHe looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost his place inthe book of his remembrance; and he turned his face to the fire, andspread his hands broader on his knees, and lifted them off and put them“There ain’t no need to go into it,” he said, looking round once more. | 1Dickens |
feet high" are quite COMPATIBLE: there is nothing to PREVENT aPoliceman from growing to that height, if sufficiently rubbed withRowland's Macassar Oil--which said to make HAIR grow, when rubbedon hair, and so of course will make a POLICEMAN grow, when rubbedThirdly, take "all x are y", which consists of the two partialPropositions "some x are y" and "no x are y'". Here, of course,the treatises mean LESS than we do in the FIRST part, and more thanwe do in the SECOND. But the two operations don't balance eachother--any more than you can console a man, for having knocked downone of his chimneys, by giving him an extra door-step.If you meet with Syllogisms of this kind, you may work them, quiteeasily, by the system I have given you: you have only to make'are' mean 'are CAPABLE of being', and all will go smoothly. For"some x are y" will become "some x are capable of being y", that | 0Caroll |
hart, don’t you see?”I didn’t see; but I didn’t say so.“Well!” Joe pursued, “somebody must keep the pot a-biling, Pip, or thepot won’t bile, don’t you know?”I saw that, and said so.“Consequence, my father didn’t make objections to my going to work; soI went to work at my present calling, which were his too, if he wouldhave followed it, and I worked tolerable hard, I assure _you_, Pip. Intime I were able to keep him, and I kep him till he went off in apurple leptic fit. And it were my intentions to have had put upon histombstone that, Whatsume’er the failings on his part, Remember readerhe were that good in his heart.”Joe recited this couplet with such manifest pride and carefulperspicuity, that I asked him if he had made it himself.“I made it,” said Joe, “my own self. I made it in a moment. It was likestriking out a horseshoe complete, in a single blow. I never was so | 1Dickens |
“How can I?” I interposed, as Herbert paused. “Think of him! Look atAn involuntary shudder passed over both of us.“Yet I am afraid the dreadful truth is, Herbert, that he is attached tome, strongly attached to me. Was there ever such a fate!”“My poor dear Handel,” Herbert repeated.“Then,” said I, “after all, stopping short here, never taking anotherpenny from him, think what I owe him already! Then again: I am heavilyin debt,—very heavily for me, who have now no expectations,—and I havebeen bred to no calling, and I am fit for nothing.”“Well, well, well!” Herbert remonstrated. “Don’t say fit for nothing.”“What am I fit for? I know only one thing that I am fit for, and thatis, to go for a soldier. And I might have gone, my dear Herbert, butfor the prospect of taking counsel with your friendship and affection.”Of course I broke down there: and of course Herbert, beyond seizing a | 1Dickens |
were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face away from thewindow, so that I became consumed with the desire to see what was goingon behind my back. At first it seemed to be impossible, but I soondevised a means. My hand-mirror had been broken, so a happy thoughtseized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief. Onthe next occasion, in the midst of my laughter, I put my handkerchiefup to my eyes, and was able with a little management to see all thatthere was behind me. I confess that I was disappointed. There wasnothing. At least that was my first impression. At the second glance,however, I perceived that there was a man standing in the SouthamptonRoad, a small bearded man in a grey suit, who seemed to be looking inmy direction. The road is an important highway, and there are usuallypeople there. This man, however, was leaning against the railings which | 2Doyle |
That’s a very good card. Mr. Barsad, now in the employ of the republicanFrench government, was formerly in the employ of the aristocraticEnglish government, the enemy of France and freedom. That’s an excellentcard. Inference clear as day in this region of suspicion, that Mr.Barsad, still in the pay of the aristocratic English government, is thespy of Pitt, the treacherous foe of the Republic crouching in its bosom,the English traitor and agent of all mischief so much spoken of and sodifficult to find. That’s a card not to be beaten. Have you followed my“Not to understand your play,” returned the spy, somewhat uneasily.“I play my Ace, Denunciation of Mr. Barsad to the nearest SectionCommittee. Look over your hand, Mr. Barsad, and see what you have. Don’tHe drew the bottle near, poured out another glassful of brandy, anddrank it off. He saw that the spy was fearful of his drinking himselfinto a fit state for the immediate denunciation of him. Seeing it, he | 1Dickens |
the pledge was given. It is perhaps as well that the facts should nowcome to light, for I have reasons to know that there are widespreadrumours as to the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make thematter even more terrible than the truth.It was early in April in the year ’83 that I woke one morning to findSherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed. He wasa late riser, as a rule, and as the clock on the mantelpiece showed methat it was only a quarter-past seven, I blinked up at him in somesurprise, and perhaps just a little resentment, for I was myselfregular in my habits.“Very sorry to knock you up, Watson,” said he, “but it’s the common lotthis morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon me,and I on you.”“What is it, then—a fire?”“No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a considerable | 2Doyle |
which had once been in my hands passed into the officer’s. He furthergave me leave to accompany the prisoner to London; but declined toaccord that grace to my two friends.The Jack at the Ship was instructed where the drowned man had gonedown, and undertook to search for the body in the places where it waslikeliest to come ashore. His interest in its recovery seemed to me tobe much heightened when he heard that it had stockings on. Probably, ittook about a dozen drowned men to fit him out completely; and that mayhave been the reason why the different articles of his dress were invarious stages of decay.We remained at the public-house until the tide turned, and thenMagwitch was carried down to the galley and put on board. Herbert andStartop were to get to London by land, as soon as they could. We had adoleful parting, and when I took my place by Magwitch’s side, I felt | 1Dickens |
I tipped him several more, and he was in great spirits. We left himbestirring himself to feed the fowls, and we sat down to our punch inthe arbour; where Wemmick told me, as he smoked a pipe, that it hadtaken him a good many years to bring the property up to its present“Is it your own, Mr. Wemmick?”“O yes,” said Wemmick, “I have got hold of it, a bit at a time. It’s a“Is it indeed? I hope Mr. Jaggers admires it?”“Never seen it,” said Wemmick. “Never heard of it. Never seen the Aged.Never heard of him. No; the office is one thing, and private life isanother. When I go into the office, I leave the Castle behind me, andwhen I come into the Castle, I leave the office behind me. If it’s notin any way disagreeable to you, you’ll oblige me by doing the same. Idon’t wish it professionally spoken about.” | 1Dickens |
exist at all, but merely that, if any DID exist, they WOULD beThe other is that, when a Proposition begins with "some" or "no",and contains more that two Attributes, these Attributes may bere-arranged, and shifted from one Term to the other, "ad libitum."For example, "some abc are def" may be re-arranged as "some bf areacde," each being equivalent to "some Things are abcdef". Again "Nowise old men are rash and reckless gamblers" may be re-arranged as"No rash old gamblers are wise and reckless," each being equivalentto "No men are wise old rash reckless gamblers."Now suppose we divide our Universe of Things in three ways, with regardto three different Attributes. Out of these three Attributes, wemay make up three different couples (for instance, if they were a,b, c, we might make up the three couples ab, ac, bc). Also supposewe have two Propositions given us, containing two of these threecouples, and that from them we can prove a third Proposition containing | 0Caroll |
“Well, then,” said he, “I’m jiggered if I don’t see you home!”This penalty of being jiggered was a favourite supposititious case ofhis. He attached no definite meaning to the word that I am aware of,but used it, like his own pretended Christian name, to affront mankind,and convey an idea of something savagely damaging. When I was younger,I had had a general belief that if he had jiggered me personally, hewould have done it with a sharp and twisted hook.Biddy was much against his going with us, and said to me in a whisper,“Don’t let him come; I don’t like him.” As I did not like him either, Itook the liberty of saying that we thanked him, but we didn’t wantseeing home. He received that piece of information with a yell oflaughter, and dropped back, but came slouching after us at a littleCurious to know whether Biddy suspected him of having had a hand in | 1Dickens |
my own pursuit? A summons, a bogus appointment, and all would be over.It is well they don’t have days of fog in the Latin countries—thecountries of assassination. By Jove! here comes something at last tobreak our dead monotony.”It was the maid with a telegram. Holmes tore it open and burst out“Well, well! What next?” said he. “Brother Mycroft is coming round.”“Why not?” I asked.“Why not? It is as if you met a tram-car coming down a country lane.Mycroft has his rails and he runs on them. His Pall Mall lodgings, theDiogenes Club, Whitehall—that is his cycle. Once, and only once, he hasbeen here. What upheaval can possibly have derailed him?”“Does he not explain?”Holmes handed me his brother’s telegram. “Must see you over Cadogan West. Coming at once.” MYCROFT.“Cadogan West? I have heard the name.”“It recalls nothing to my mind. But that Mycroft should break out inthis erratic fashion! A planet might as well leave its orbit. By the | 2Doyle |
like yours, you might be any shape, almost.”“Why do you sit out here all alone?” said Alice, not wishing to begin“Why, because there’s nobody with me!” cried Humpty Dumpty. “Did youthink I didn’t know the answer to _that_? Ask another.”“Don’t you think you’d be safer down on the ground?” Alice went on, notwith any idea of making another riddle, but simply in her good-naturedanxiety for the queer creature. “That wall is so _very_ narrow!”“What tremendously easy riddles you ask!” Humpty Dumpty growled out.“Of course I don’t think so! Why, if ever I _did_ fall off—whichthere’s no chance of—but _if_ I did—” Here he pursed his lips andlooked so solemn and grand that Alice could hardly help laughing. “_If_I did fall,” he went on, “_The King has promised me—with his very own“To send all his horses and all his men,” Alice interrupted, rather“Now I declare that’s too bad!” Humpty Dumpty cried, breaking into a | 0Caroll |
a dab at the ways of gentlefolks. He was good-looking too. It was thenight afore the great race, when I found him on the heath, in a booththat I know’d on. Him and some more was a sitting among the tables whenI went in, and the landlord (which had a knowledge of me, and was asporting one) called him out, and said, ‘I think this is a man thatmight suit you,’—meaning I was.“Compeyson, he looks at me very noticing, and I look at him. He has awatch and a chain and a ring and a breast-pin and a handsome suit of“‘To judge from appearances, you’re out of luck,’ says Compeyson to me.“‘Yes, master, and I’ve never been in it much.’ (I had come out ofKingston Jail last on a vagrancy committal. Not but what it might havebeen for something else; but it warn’t.)“‘Luck changes,’ says Compeyson; ‘perhaps yours is going to change.’ | 1Dickens |
they looked at papers.”“Now, to the prisoner’s conversation, Miss Manette.”“The prisoner was as open in his confidence with me--which arose outof my helpless situation--as he was kind, and good, and useful to myfather. I hope,” bursting into tears, “I may not repay him by doing himBuzzing from the blue-flies.“Miss Manette, if the prisoner does not perfectly understand thatyou give the evidence which it is your duty to give--which you mustgive--and which you cannot escape from giving--with great unwillingness,he is the only person present in that condition. Please to go on.”“He told me that he was travelling on business of a delicate anddifficult nature, which might get people into trouble, and that he wastherefore travelling under an assumed name. He said that this businesshad, within a few days, taken him to France, and might, at intervals,take him backwards and forwards between France and England for a long“Did he say anything about America, Miss Manette? Be particular.” | 1Dickens |
upon me just as I had finished the note. He and his master dragged meto my room and held judgment upon me as a convicted traitress. Then andthere they would have plunged their knives into me could they have seenhow to escape the consequences of the deed. Finally, after much debate,they concluded that my murder was too dangerous. But they determined toget rid forever of Garcia. They had gagged me, and Murillo twisted myarm round until I gave him the address. I swear that he might havetwisted it off had I understood what it would mean to Garcia. Lopezaddressed the note which I had written, sealed it with his sleeve-link,and sent it by the hand of the servant, José. How they murdered him Ido not know, save that it was Murillo’s hand who struck him down, forLopez had remained to guard me. I believe he must have waited among the | 2Doyle |
The door slowly opened inward under his hand, and he looked into theroom and said something. A faint voice answered something. Little morethan a single syllable could have been spoken on either side.He looked back over his shoulder, and beckoned them to enter. Mr. Lorrygot his arm securely round the daughter’s waist, and held her; for hefelt that she was sinking.“A-a-a-business, business!” he urged, with a moisture that was not ofbusiness shining on his cheek. “Come in, come in!”“I am afraid of it,” she answered, shuddering.“I mean of him. Of my father.”Rendered in a manner desperate, by her state and by the beckoning oftheir conductor, he drew over his neck the arm that shook upon hisshoulder, lifted her a little, and hurried her into the room. He sat herdown just within the door, and held her, clinging to him.Defarge drew out the key, closed the door, locked it on the inside, | 1Dickens |
difficult and most complicated business. There are several points upon which we still want light—but it is coming all the same.” “We’ve had one experience, as Watson has no doubt told you. We heard the hound on the moor, so I can swear that it is not all empty superstition. I had something to do with dogs when I was out West, and I know one when I hear one. If you can muzzle that one and put him on a chain I’ll be ready to swear you are the greatest detective of all time.” “I think I will muzzle him and chain him all right if you will give me your help.” “Whatever you tell me to do I will do.” “Very good; and I will ask you also to do it blindly, without always asking the reason.” “Just as you like.” “If you will do this I think the chances are that our little | 2Doyle |
fortnightly reception in his grand hotel in Paris. Monseigneur was inhis inner room, his sanctuary of sanctuaries, the Holiest of Holiests tothe crowd of worshippers in the suite of rooms without. Monseigneurwas about to take his chocolate. Monseigneur could swallow a great manythings with ease, and was by some few sullen minds supposed to be ratherrapidly swallowing France; but, his morning’s chocolate could not somuch as get into the throat of Monseigneur, without the aid of fourstrong men besides the Cook.Yes. It took four men, all four ablaze with gorgeous decoration, and theChief of them unable to exist with fewer than two gold watches in hispocket, emulative of the noble and chaste fashion set by Monseigneur, toconduct the happy chocolate to Monseigneur’s lips. One lacquey carriedthe chocolate-pot into the sacred presence; a second, milled and frothedthe chocolate with the little instrument he bore for that function;a third, presented the favoured napkin; a fourth (he of the two gold | 1Dickens |
“I am always the last man out.”“Where were the plans?”“In that safe. I put them there myself.”“Is there no watchman to the building?”“There is, but he has other departments to look after as well. He is anold soldier and a most trustworthy man. He saw nothing that evening. Ofcourse the fog was very thick.”“Suppose that Cadogan West wished to make his way into the buildingafter hours; he would need three keys, would he not, before he could“Yes, he would. The key of the outer door, the key of the office, andthe key of the safe.”“Only Sir James Walter and you had those keys?”“I had no keys of the doors—only of the safe.”“Was Sir James a man who was orderly in his habits?”“Yes, I think he was. I know that so far as those three keys areconcerned he kept them on the same ring. I have often seen them there.”“And that ring went with him to London?” | 2Doyle |
dressing-table again, and saw that the shoe upon it, once white, nowyellow, had never been worn. I glanced down at the foot from which theshoe was absent, and saw that the silk stocking on it, once white, nowyellow, had been trodden ragged. Without this arrest of everything,this standing still of all the pale decayed objects, not even thewithered bridal dress on the collapsed form could have looked so likegrave-clothes, or the long veil so like a shroud.So she sat, corpse-like, as we played at cards; the frillings andtrimmings on her bridal dress, looking like earthy paper. I knewnothing then of the discoveries that are occasionally made of bodiesburied in ancient times, which fall to powder in the moment of beingdistinctly seen; but, I have often thought since, that she must havelooked as if the admission of the natural light of day would havestruck her to dust.“He calls the knaves Jacks, this boy!” said Estella with disdain, | 1Dickens |
At this point Joe greatly augmented my curiosity by taking the utmostpains to open his mouth very wide, and to put it into the form of aword that looked to me like “sulks.” Therefore, I naturally pointed toMrs. Joe, and put my mouth into the form of saying, “her?” But Joewouldn’t hear of that, at all, and again opened his mouth very wide,and shook the form of a most emphatic word out of it. But I could makenothing of the word.“Mrs. Joe,” said I, as a last resort, “I should like to know—if youwouldn’t much mind—where the firing comes from?”“Lord bless the boy!” exclaimed my sister, as if she didn’t quite meanthat but rather the contrary. “From the Hulks!”“Oh-h!” said I, looking at Joe. “Hulks!”Joe gave a reproachful cough, as much as to say, “Well, I told you so.”“And please, what’s Hulks?” said I.“That’s the way with this boy!” exclaimed my sister, pointing me out | 1Dickens |
writing could still be read, though it was grey on a black ground. It seemed to us to be a postscript at the end of the letter and it said: ‘Please, please, as you are a gentleman, burn this letter, and be at the gate by ten o clock. Beneath it were signed the initials L. L.” “Have you got that slip?” “No, sir, it crumbled all to bits after we moved it.” “Had Sir Charles received any other letters in the same writing?” “Well, sir, I took no particular notice of his letters. I should not have noticed this one, only it happened to come alone.” “And you have no idea who L. L. is?” “No, sir. No more than you have. But I expect if we could lay our hands upon that lady we should know more about Sir Charles’s “I cannot understand, Barrymore, how you came to conceal this | 2Doyle |
descended to the Common Executioner: who, in pursuance of the charm, wasrequired to officiate “frizzled, powdered, in a gold-laced coat, pumps,and white silk stockings.” At the gallows and the wheel--the axe was ararity--Monsieur Paris, as it was the episcopal mode among his brotherProfessors of the provinces, Monsieur Orleans, and the rest, to callhim, presided in this dainty dress. And who among the company atMonseigneur’s reception in that seventeen hundred and eightieth yearof our Lord, could possibly doubt, that a system rooted in a frizzledhangman, powdered, gold-laced, pumped, and white-silk stockinged, wouldsee the very stars out!Monseigneur having eased his four men of their burdens and taken hischocolate, caused the doors of the Holiest of Holiests to be thrownopen, and issued forth. Then, what submission, what cringing andfawning, what servility, what abject humiliation! As to bowing down inbody and spirit, nothing in that way was left for Heaven--which may havebeen one among other reasons why the worshippers of Monseigneur never | 1Dickens |
come out. Looked at more closely, I should certainly say that it was a“Judging by its effect upon my brother, I should think it must be amost extraordinary one.” He snuggled down in his armchair. “Now,Watson, let us have the facts.”“The man’s name was Arthur Cadogan West. He was twenty-seven years ofage, unmarried, and a clerk at Woolwich Arsenal.”“Government employ. Behold the link with Brother Mycroft!”“He left Woolwich suddenly on Monday night. Was last seen by hisfiancée, Miss Violet Westbury, whom he left abruptly in the fog about7:30 that evening. There was no quarrel between them and she can giveno motive for his action. The next thing heard of him was when his deadbody was discovered by a plate-layer named Mason, just outside AldgateStation on the Underground system in London.”“The body was found at six on Tuesday morning. It was lying wide of themetals upon the left hand of the track as one goes eastward, at a point | 2Doyle |
out of this, is, to put you all in the wrong.”It was a bit of the art of an Old Bailey tactician, in which he foundgreat relief. “You shall not put me in the wrong, young lady,” said Mr.Stryver; “I’ll do that for you.”Accordingly, when Mr. Lorry called that night as late as ten o’clock,Mr. Stryver, among a quantity of books and papers littered out for thepurpose, seemed to have nothing less on his mind than the subject ofthe morning. He even showed surprise when he saw Mr. Lorry, and wasaltogether in an absent and preoccupied state.“Well!” said that good-natured emissary, after a full half-hour ofbootless attempts to bring him round to the question. “I have been to“To Soho?” repeated Mr. Stryver, coldly. “Oh, to be sure! What am I“And I have no doubt,” said Mr. Lorry, “that I was right in theconversation we had. My opinion is confirmed, and I reiterate my | 1Dickens |
in a hurry, “Yes, customers; in the banking business we usually callour connection our customers. He was a French gentleman; a scientificgentleman; a man of great acquirements--a Doctor.”“Why, yes, of Beauvais. Like Monsieur Manette, your father, thegentleman was of Beauvais. Like Monsieur Manette, your father, thegentleman was of repute in Paris. I had the honour of knowing him there.Our relations were business relations, but confidential. I was at thattime in our French House, and had been--oh! twenty years.”“At that time--I may ask, at what time, sir?”“I speak, miss, of twenty years ago. He married--an English lady--andI was one of the trustees. His affairs, like the affairs of many otherFrench gentlemen and French families, were entirely in Tellson’s hands.In a similar way I am, or I have been, trustee of one kind or other forscores of our customers. These are mere business relations, miss;there is no friendship in them, no particular interest, nothing like | 1Dickens |
court to the lady, even though it was part of his own plan, still he could not help interrupting with a passionate outburst which revealed the fiery soul which his self-contained manner so cleverly concealed. By encouraging the intimacy he made it certain that Sir Henry would frequently come to Merripit House and that he would sooner or later get the opportunity which he desired. On the day of the crisis, however, his wife turned suddenly against him. She had learned something of the death of the convict, and she knew that the hound was being kept in the outhouse on the evening that Sir Henry was coming to dinner. She taxed her husband with his intended crime, and a furious scene followed in which he showed her for the first time that she had a rival in his love. Her fidelity turned in an instant to bitter hatred, and he saw that she would betray him. He tied her up, | 2Doyle |
crowd about it, in which there seemed to be every face he had seen inCourt--except two, for which he looked in vain. On his coming out, theconcourse made at him anew, weeping, embracing, and shouting, all byturns and all together, until the very tide of the river on the bank ofwhich the mad scene was acted, seemed to run mad, like the people on theThey put him into a great chair they had among them, and which they hadtaken either out of the Court itself, or one of its rooms or passages.Over the chair they had thrown a red flag, and to the back of it theyhad bound a pike with a red cap on its top. In this car of triumph, noteven the Doctor’s entreaties could prevent his being carried to his homeon men’s shoulders, with a confused sea of red caps heaving about him,and casting up to sight from the stormy deep such wrecks of faces, that | 1Dickens |
out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing in our faces, and one yellowlight twinkling in front of us through the gloom to guide us on ourThere was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for unrepairedbreaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way among the trees, wereached the lawn, crossed it, and were about to enter through thewindow when out from a clump of laurel bushes there darted what seemedto be a hideous and distorted child, who threw itself upon the grasswith writhing limbs and then ran swiftly across the lawn into the“My God!” I whispered; “did you see it?”Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like a viceupon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh and puthis lips to my ear.“It is a nice household,” he murmured. “That is the baboon.”I had forgotten the strange pets which the Doctor affected. There was a | 2Doyle |
other curious things in the same place. I don’t tell it you oninformation received. I heard it.”He took the toasting-fork and sausage from me as he spoke, and setforth the Aged’s breakfast neatly on a little tray. Previous to placingit before him, he went into the Aged’s room with a clean white cloth,and tied the same under the old gentleman’s chin, and propped him up,and put his nightcap on one side, and gave him quite a rakish air. Thenhe placed his breakfast before him with great care, and said, “Allright, ain’t you, Aged P.?” To which the cheerful Aged replied, “Allright, John, my boy, all right!” As there seemed to be a tacitunderstanding that the Aged was not in a presentable state, and wastherefore to be considered invisible, I made a pretence of being incomplete ignorance of these proceedings.“This watching of me at my chambers (which I have once had reason to | 1Dickens |
Baskerville, on which, as it turned its blazing eyes and dripping jaws upon them, the three shrieked with fear and rode for dear life, still screaming, across the moor. One, it is said, died that very night of what he had seen, and the other twain were but broken men for the rest of their “Such is the tale, my sons, of the coming of the hound which is said to have plagued the family so sorely ever since. If I have set it down it is because that which is clearly known hath less terror than that which is but hinted at and guessed. Nor can it be denied that many of the family have been unhappy in their deaths, which have been sudden, bloody, and mysterious. Yet may we shelter ourselves in the infinite goodness of Providence, which would not forever punish the innocent beyond that third or | 2Doyle |
but never looked at her, that I could see. On the other hand, she oftenlooked at him, with interest and curiosity, if not distrust, but hisface never showed the least consciousness. Throughout dinner he took adry delight in making Sarah Pocket greener and yellower, by oftenreferring in conversation with me to my expectations; but here, again,he showed no consciousness, and even made it appear that heextorted—and even did extort, though I don’t know how—those referencesout of my innocent self.And when he and I were left alone together, he sat with an air upon himof general lying by in consequence of information he possessed, thatreally was too much for me. He cross-examined his very wine when he hadnothing else in hand. He held it between himself and the candle, tastedthe port, rolled it in his mouth, swallowed it, looked at his glassagain, smelt the port, tried it, drank it, filled again, and | 1Dickens |
But I’ll humour you.” (All this in little gasps, with terriblestruggles for breath between.) “You’ve only my own good at heart. Ofcourse I know that very well. You shall have your way, but give me timeto get my strength. Not now, Watson, not now. It’s four o’clock. At six“This is insanity, Holmes.”“Only two hours, Watson. I promise you will go at six. Are you content“I seem to have no choice.”“None in the world, Watson. Thank you, I need no help in arranging theclothes. You will please keep your distance. Now, Watson, there is oneother condition that I would make. You will seek help, not from the manyou mention, but from the one that I choose.”“The first three sensible words that you have uttered since you enteredthis room, Watson. You will find some books over there. I am somewhatexhausted; I wonder how a battery feels when it pours electricity intoa non-conductor? At six, Watson, we resume our conversation.” | 2Doyle |
of the long table, and Miss Havisham, with one of her withered armsstretched out of the chair, rested that clenched hand upon the yellowcloth. As Estella looked back over her shoulder before going out at thedoor, Miss Havisham kissed that hand to her, with a ravenous intensitythat was of its kind quite dreadful.Then, Estella being gone and we two left alone, she turned to me, andsaid in a whisper,—“Is she beautiful, graceful, well-grown? Do you admire her?”“Everybody must who sees her, Miss Havisham.”She drew an arm round my neck, and drew my head close down to hers asshe sat in the chair. “Love her, love her, love her! How does she useBefore I could answer (if I could have answered so difficult a questionat all) she repeated, “Love her, love her, love her! If she favoursyou, love her. If she wounds you, love her. If she tears your heart to | 1Dickens |
“It is nothing very formidable,” he said, taking a long cigar-shapedroll from his pocket. “It is an ordinary plumber’s smoke-rocket, fittedwith a cap at either end to make it self-lighting. Your task isconfined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, it will be taken upby quite a number of people. You may then walk to the end of thestreet, and I will rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope that I have made“I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you, and atthe signal to throw in this object, then to raise the cry of fire, andto wait you at the corner of the street.”“Then you may entirely rely on me.”“That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I preparefor the new role I have to play.”He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes in thecharacter of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist clergyman. His | 2Doyle |
The station-master had not finished his speech before we were allhastening in the direction of the fire. The road topped a low hill, andthere was a great widespread whitewashed building in front of us,spouting fire at every chink and window, while in the garden in frontthree fire-engines were vainly striving to keep the flames under.“That’s it!” cried Hatherley, in intense excitement. “There is thegravel-drive, and there are the rose-bushes where I lay. That secondwindow is the one that I jumped from.”“Well, at least,” said Holmes, “you have had your revenge upon them.There can be no question that it was your oil-lamp which, when it wascrushed in the press, set fire to the wooden walls, though no doubtthey were too excited in the chase after you to observe it at the time.Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for your friends of last night,though I very much fear that they are a good hundred miles off by now.” | 2Doyle |
Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of thisagreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“theFoundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collectionof Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individualworks in the collection are in the public domain in the UnitedStates. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in theUnited States and you are located in the United States, we do notclaim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long asall references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hopethat you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promotingfree access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping theProject Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily | 1Dickens |
_affaire de cœur_. She would like advice, but is not sure that thematter is not too delicate for communication. And yet even here we maydiscriminate. When a woman has been seriously wronged by a man she nolonger oscillates, and the usual symptom is a broken bell wire. Here wemay take it that there is a love matter, but that the maiden is not somuch angry as perplexed, or grieved. But here she comes in person toAs he spoke there was a tap at the door, and the boy in buttons enteredto announce Miss Mary Sutherland, while the lady herself loomed behindhis small black figure like a full-sailed merchant-man behind a tinypilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed her with the easy courtesy forwhich he was remarkable, and, having closed the door and bowed her intoan armchair, he looked her over in the minute and yet abstractedfashion which was peculiar to him.“Do you not find,” he said, “that with your short sight it is a little | 2Doyle |
very provoking!” she said, in reply to the Lion (she was getting quiteused to being called “the Monster”). “I’ve cut several slices already,but they always join on again!”“You don’t know how to manage Looking-glass cakes,” the Unicornremarked. “Hand it round first, and cut it afterwards.”This sounded nonsense, but Alice very obediently got up, and carriedthe dish round, and the cake divided itself into three pieces as shedid so. “_Now_ cut it up,” said the Lion, as she returned to her placewith the empty dish.“I say, this isn’t fair!” cried the Unicorn, as Alice sat with theknife in her hand, very much puzzled how to begin. “The Monster hasgiven the Lion twice as much as me!”“She’s kept none for herself, anyhow,” said the Lion. “Do you likeBut before Alice could answer him, the drums began.Where the noise came from, she couldn’t make out: the air seemed fullof it, and it rang through and through her head till she felt quite | 0Caroll |
“She was angry, and said that I was never to speak of the matter“And your father? Did you tell him?”“Yes; and he seemed to think, with me, that something had happened, andthat I should hear of Hosmer again. As he said, what interest couldanyone have in bringing me to the doors of the church, and then leavingme? Now, if he had borrowed my money, or if he had married me and gotmy money settled on him, there might be some reason, but Hosmer wasvery independent about money and never would look at a shilling ofmine. 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 atnight.” She pulled a little handkerchief out of her muff and began tosob heavily into it.“I shall glance into the case for you,” said Holmes, rising, “and Ihave no doubt that we shall reach some definite result. Let the weight | 2Doyle |
eye for Master Peter, which would bring in, if obtained, fullfive-and-sixpence weekly. The two young Cratchits laughedtremendously at the idea of Peter's being a man of business;and Peter himself looked thoughtfully at the fire frombetween his collars, as if he were deliberating what particularinvestments he should favour when he came into the receiptof that bewildering income. Martha, who was a poorapprentice at a milliner's, then told them what kind of workshe had to do, and how many hours she worked at a stretch,and how she meant to lie abed to-morrow morning for agood long rest; to-morrow being a holiday she passed athome. Also how she had seen a countess and a lord somedays before, and how the lord "was much about as tall asPeter;" at which Peter pulled up his collars so high that youcouldn't have seen his head if you had been there. All thistime the chestnuts and the jug went round and round; and | 1Dickens |
At last, one day, I took courage, and said, “_Is_ it Joe?”And the dear old home-voice answered, “Which it air, old chap.”“O Joe, you break my heart! Look angry at me, Joe. Strike me, Joe. Tellme of my ingratitude. Don’t be so good to me!”For Joe had actually laid his head down on the pillow at my side, andput his arm round my neck, in his joy that I knew him.“Which dear old Pip, old chap,” said Joe, “you and me was ever friends.And when you’re well enough to go out for a ride—what larks!”After which, Joe withdrew to the window, and stood with his backtowards me, wiping his eyes. And as my extreme weakness prevented mefrom getting up and going to him, I lay there, penitently whispering,“O God bless him! O God bless this gentle Christian man!”Joe’s eyes were red when I next found him beside me; but I was holding | 1Dickens |
by somebody, or by everybody; I can’t say which.“I am glad of one thing,” said Biddy, “and that is, that you have feltyou could give me your confidence, Pip. And I am glad of another thing,and that is, that of course you know you may depend upon my keeping itand always so far deserving it. If your first teacher (dear! such apoor one, and so much in need of being taught herself!) had been yourteacher at the present time, she thinks she knows what lesson she wouldset. But it would be a hard one to learn, and you have got beyond her,and it’s of no use now.” So, with a quiet sigh for me, Biddy rose fromthe bank, and said, with a fresh and pleasant change of voice, “Shallwe walk a little farther, or go home?”“Biddy,” I cried, getting up, putting my arm round her neck, and givingher a kiss, “I shall always tell you everything.” | 1Dickens |
with the same questioning eyes. “I talked as if Dr. Watson were a resident instead of being merely a visitor,” said she. “It cannot much matter to him whether it is early or late for the orchids. But you will come on, will you not, and see Merripit House?” A short walk brought us to it, a bleak moorland house, once the farm of some grazier in the old prosperous days, but now put into repair and turned into a modern dwelling. An orchard surrounded it, but the trees, as is usual upon the moor, were stunted and nipped, and the effect of the whole place was mean and melancholy. We were admitted by a strange, wizened, rusty-coated old manservant, who seemed in keeping with the house. Inside, however, there were large rooms furnished with an elegance in which I seemed to recognize the taste of the lady. As I looked | 2Doyle |
unexplored. No sign could we see of the man whom we were chasing. On the upper floor, however, one of the bedroom doors was locked. “There’s someone in here,” cried Lestrade. “I can hear a movement. Open this door!” A faint moaning and rustling came from within. Holmes struck the door just over the lock with the flat of his foot and it flew open. Pistol in hand, we all three rushed into the room. But there was no sign within it of that desperate and defiant villain whom we expected to see. Instead we were faced by an object so strange and so unexpected that we stood for a moment staring at it in amazement. The room had been fashioned into a small museum, and the walls were lined by a number of glass-topped cases full of that collection of butterflies and moths the formation of which had been the relaxation of this complex and dangerous man. In the | 2Doyle |
moor. The ancient Cornish language had also arrested his attention, andhe had, I remember, conceived the idea that it was akin to theChaldean, and had been largely derived from the Phœnician traders intin. He had received a consignment of books upon philology and wassettling down to develop this thesis when suddenly, to my sorrow and tohis unfeigned delight, we found ourselves, even in that land of dreams,plunged into a problem at our very doors which was more intense, moreengrossing, and infinitely more mysterious than any of those which haddriven us from London. Our simple life and peaceful, healthy routinewere violently interrupted, and we were precipitated into the midst ofa series of events which caused the utmost excitement not only inCornwall but throughout the whole west of England. Many of my readersmay retain some recollection of what was called at the time “TheCornish Horror,” though a most imperfect account of the matter reached | 2Doyle |
hands, I looked at those eyes, I looked at that flowing hair; and Icompared them with other hands, other eyes, other hair, that I knew of,and with what those might be after twenty years of a brutal husband anda stormy life. I looked again at those hands and eyes of thehousekeeper, and thought of the inexplicable feeling that had come overme when I last walked—not alone—in the ruined garden, and through thedeserted brewery. I thought how the same feeling had come back when Isaw a face looking at me, and a hand waving to me from a stage-coachwindow; and how it had come back again and had flashed about me likelightning, when I had passed in a carriage—not alone—through a suddenglare of light in a dark street. I thought how one link of associationhad helped that identification in the theatre, and how such a link,wanting before, had been riveted for me now, when I had passed by a | 1Dickens |
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