目录
Content
Chapter_1
Chapter_2
Chapter_1
THE ADVENTURE OF THE DANCING MEN
Chapter One
Story teller: Holmes sat quietly for a long time, studying something in a glass bottle.
Holmes: "So, Watson, you are not going to buy any land in South African?"
Story teller: Watson was very surprised by his question.
Watson: "How on earth do you know that?"
Story teller: Holmes turned around on his chair, holding a magnifying glass in his hand. He had a little smile on his lips.
Holmes:” Now, Watson, confess yourself utterly taken aback,".
Watson: "I am."
Holmes: “I ought to make you sign a paper to that effect."
Watson: “Why?"
Holmes: “Because in five minutes you will say that it is all so simple."
Watson: “I am sure that I shall say nothing of the kind."
Story teller: Holmes put the magnifying glass back on the table and began to talk like a teacher talking to his class.
Holmes: “You see, my dear Watson. It is very easy to arrive the idea, step by step from a number of other ideas. Each one takes you on to the next. But when you just look at the first idea and the last one, the result may seem surprising. I noticed the chalk mark at the bottom of your left thumb. I was sure, then, that you are not going to buy any land in South Africa."
Watson: "I see no connection."
Holmes: "Very likely not; but I can quickly show you a close connection. Here are the missing links of the very simple chain: 1. You had chalk between your left finger and thumb when you returned from the club last night. 2. You put chalk there when you play billiards to steady the cue. 3. You never play billiards except with Thurston. 4. You told me four weeks ago that Thurston had an option on some South African property which would expire in a month, and which he desired you to share with him. 5. Your check-book is locked in my drawer, and you have not asked for the key. 6. You do not need any money, and therefore you are not going to buy the land from Thurston,”
Watson: "How absurdly simple!"
Holmes: "Quite so! Every problem becomes very simple when you understand it. See what you can make of that, friend Watson." (unhappy)
A strange puzzle
Story teller: Holmes gave Watson a piece of paper, and turned back to look at the bottle on the table. Watson looked at the piece of paper. It contained a row of strange drawings.
Watson: "Why, Holmes, it is a child's drawing,"
Holmes: "Oh, that's your idea!"
Watson: "What else should it be?"
Holmes: That is what Mr. Hilton Cubitt, of Ridling Thorpe Manor, Norfolk, wants to know. This little conundrum came by the first post, and he was to follow by the next train. There's a ring at the bell, Watson. I should not be very much surprised if this were he."
Story teller: They heard someone walk up the stairs, and then a tall man came into the room. He noticed the strange piece of paper he had sent us, lying on the table.
Mr. Hilton Cubitt: "Well, Mr. Holmes, what do you make of these? I know that you like puzzles. I don’t think you will find a puzzle stranger than this one. I sent the paper on ahead so that you might have time to study it before I came."
Holmes:"Yes, these are very strange, Mr Cubitt. They look at first like the word of a child. But why do you think they are so important? "
Mr. Hilton Cubitt :"I never should, Mr. Holmes. But my wife does. It is frightening her to death. She says nothing, but I can see frighten in her eyes. That's why I want to know what the drawings mean."
Story teller: Holmes held up the paper with the light behind it. It was a page of writing paper, and the drawings on it were done with pencil. They looked like this.
Story teller: Holmes looked at the paper for some time, and then, folding it carefully up, he placed it in his pocket-book.
Holmes: "This is going to be very interesting. You didn’t tell me very much in your letter, Mr. Cubitt. Please tell my friend Dr Watson and me everything you know. "
Mr. Hilton Cubitt: "You'll just ask me anything that I don't make clear. I'll begin at the time of my marriage last year; but I want to say first of all that, though I'm not a rich man, my people have been at Ridling Thorpe for a matter of five centuries, and there is no better known family in the County of Norfolk. Last year I came down to London for a visit and I stopped at a boarding-house in Russell Square. There was an American young lady called Elsie Patrick. In some way we became friends, until before my month was up I was as much in love as a man could be. We were quietly married at a registry office, and we returned to Norfolk a wedded couple. You'll think it very mad, Mr. Holmes, that a man of a good old family should marry a wife in this fashion, knowing nothing of her past or of her people; but if you saw her and knew her it would help you to understand.
Holmes:”I think we’ll see your wife.”
Mr. Hilton Cubitt: "She was very straight about it. I can't say that she did not give me every chance of getting out of it if I wished to do so.
Elsie Patrick: 'I have had some very disagreeable associations in my life, I wish to forget all about them. I would rather never allude to the past, for it is very painful to me. If you take me, Hilton, you will take a woman who has nothing that she need be personally ashamed of; but you will have to be content with my word for it, and to allow me to be silent as to all that passed up to the time when I became yours. If these conditions are too hard, then go back to Norfolk and leave me to the lonely life in which you found me.'
Mr. Hilton Cubitt: “It was only the day before our wedding that she said those very words to me. I told her that I was content to take her on her own terms, and I have been as good as my word.”
Mr. Hilton Cubitt: "Well, we have been married now for a year, and very happy we have been. But about a month ago, at the end of June, I saw for the first time signs of trouble.
Story teller: One day Elsie Patrick received a letter from America. Mr. Hilton Cubitt saw the American stamp.
(Elsie Patrick turned deadly white, read the letter, threw it. Say nothing then go away)
Mr. Hilton Cubitt:“ But she has never known an easy hour from that moment. There is always a look of fear upon her face--a look as if she were waiting and expecting. She would do better to trust me. She would find that I was her best friend. But until she speaks I can say nothing. Mind you, she is a truthful woman, Mr. Holmes, and whatever trouble there may have been in her past life it has been no fault of hers. I am only a simple Norfolk squire, but there is not a man in England who ranks his family honour more highly than I do. She knows it well, and she knew it well before she married me. She would never bring any stain upon it--of that I am sure.
Mr. Hilton Cubitt :"Well, now I come to the queer part of my story.
Story teller: About a week ago--it was the Tuesday