书城小说夏洛克·福尔摩斯全集(套装上下册)
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第247章 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes(61)

As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord,explaining that we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance,and that it was possible that we might spend the night there. Amoment later we were out on the dark road, a chill wind blowingin our faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of us throughthe gloom to guide us on our sombre errand.

There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for unrepairedbreaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way among thetrees, we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about to enterthrough the window when out from a clump of laurel bushesthere darted what seemed to be a hideous and distorted child,who threw itself upon the grass with writhing limbs and then ranswiftly across the lawn into the darkness.

“My God!” I whispered; “did you see it?”

Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closedlike a vice upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a lowlaugh and put his 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 cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon ourshoulders at any moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mindwhen, after following Holmes’ example and slipping off my shoes,I found myself inside the bedroom. My companion noiselesslyclosed the shutters, moved the lamp onto the table, and cast hiseyes round the room. All was as we had seen it in the daytime.

Then creeping up to me and making a trumpet of his hand, hewhispered into my ear again so gently that it was all that I coulddo to distinguish the words:

“The least sound would be fatal to our plans.”

I nodded to show that I had heard.

“We must sit without light. He would see it through theventilator.”

I nodded again.

“Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have yourpistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of thebed, and you in that chair.”

I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table.

Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placedupon the bed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and thestump of a candle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we wereleft in darkness.

How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear asound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that mycompanion sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the samestate of nervous tension in which I was myself. The shutters cutoff the least ray of light, and we waited in absolute darkness. Fromoutside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once at ourvery window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us that thecheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear the deeptones of the parish clock, which boomed out every quarter ofan hour. How long they seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck,and one and two and three, and still we sat waiting silently forwhatever might befall.

Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in thedirection of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but wassucceeded by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal.

Someone in the next room had lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentlesound of movement, and then all was silent once more, thoughthe smell grew stronger. For half an hour I sat with strainingears. Then suddenly another sound became audible—a verygentle, soothing sound, like that of a small jet of steam escapingcontinually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmessprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously with hiscane at the bell-pull.

“You see it, Watson?” he yelled. “You see it?”

But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck thelight I heard a low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing intomy weary eyes made it impossible for me to tell what it was atwhich my friend lashed so savagely. I could, however, see that hisface was deadly pale and filled with horror and loathing.

He had ceased to strike and was gazing up at the ventilatorwhen suddenly there broke from the silence of the night the mosthorrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louderand louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all mingled inthe one dreadful shriek. They say that away down in the village,and even in the distant parsonage, that cry raised the sleepersfrom their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and I stood gazingat Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of it had died awayinto the silence from which it rose.

“What can it mean?” I gasped.

“It means that it is all over,” Holmes answered. “And perhaps,after all, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will enter Dr.

Roylott’s room.”

With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down thecorridor. Twice he struck at the chamber door without any replyfrom within. Then he turned the handle and entered, I at hisheels, with the cocked pistol in my hand.

It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood adark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant beamof light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar. Beside thistable, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott clad in along grey dressing-gown, his bare ankles protruding beneath, andhis feet thrust into red heelless Turkish slippers. Across his lap laythe short stock with the long lash which we had noticed duringthe day. His chin was cocked upward and his eyes were fixed in adreadful, rigid stare at the corner of the ceiling. Round his browhe had a peculiar yellow band, with brownish speckles, whichseemed to be bound tightly round his head. As we entered hemade neither sound nor motion.

“The band! the speckled band!” whispered Holmes.

I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgear beganto move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squatdiamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent.