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第278章 The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes(29)

a time his love may have cooled towards her and he may have cometo regard their union as a mistake. He felt there were sides of hercharacter which he could never explore or understand. This was themore painful as she was as loving a wife as a man could have—to allappearance absolutely devoted.

Now for the point which I will make more plain when we meet.

Indeed, this note is merely to give you a general idea of the situationand to ascertain whether you would care to interest yourself in thematter. The lady began to show some curious traits quite alien toher ordinarily sweet and gentle disposition. The gentleman hadbeen married twice and he had one son by the first wife. This boywas now fifteen, a very charming and affectionate youth, thoughunhappily injured through an accident in childhood. Twice thewife was caught in the act of assaulting this poor lad in the mostunprovoked way. Once she struck him with a stick and left a greatweal on his arm.

This was a small matter, however, compared with her conductto her own child, a dear boy just under one year of age. On oneoccasion about a month ago this child had been left by its nursefor a few minutes. A loud cry from the baby, as of pain, called thenurse back. As she ran into the room she saw her employer, the lady,leaning over the baby and apparently biting his neck. There was asmall wound in the neck from which a stream of blood had escaped.

The nurse was so horrified that she wished to call the husband, butthe lady implored her not to do so and actually gave her five poundsas a price for her silence. No explanation was ever given, and for themoment the matter was passed over.

It left, however, a terrible impression upon the nurse’s mind, andfrom that time she began to watch her mistress closely and to keepa closer guard upon the baby, whom she tenderly loved. It seemedto her that even as she watched the mother, so the mother watchedher, and that every time she was compelled to leave the baby alonethe mother was waiting to get at it. Day and night the nurse coveredthe child, and day and night the silent, watchful mother seemedto be lying in wait as a wolf waits for a lamb. It must read mostincredible to you, and yet I beg you to take it seriously, for a child’slife and a man’s sanity may depend upon it.

At last there came one dreadful day when the facts could nolonger be concealed from the husband. The nurse’s nerve had givenway; she could stand the strain no longer, and she made a cleanbreast of it all to the man. To him it seemed as wild a tale as it maynow seem to you. He knew his wife to be a loving wife, and, save forthe assaults upon her stepson, a loving mother. Why, then, shouldshe wound her own dear little baby? He told the nurse that she wasdreaming, that her suspicions were those of a lunatic, and that such1302 The Complete Sherlock Holmes

libels upon her mistress were not to be tolerated. While they weretalking a sudden cry of pain was heard. Nurse and master rushedtogether to the nursery. Imagine his feelings, Mr. Holmes, as he sawhis wife rise from a kneeling position beside the cot and saw bloodupon the child’s exposed neck and upon the sheet. With a cry ofhorror, he turned his wife’s face to the light and saw blood all roundher lips. It was she—she beyond all question—who had drunk thepoor baby’s blood.

So the matter stands. She is now confined to her room. There hasbeen no explanation. The husband is half demented. He knows, andI know, little of vampirism beyond the name. We had thought it wassome wild tale of foreign parts. And yet here in the very heart ofthe English Sussex—well, all this can be discussed with you in themorning. Will you see me? Will you use your great powers in aidinga distracted man? If so, kindly wire to Ferguson, Cheeseman’s,Lamberley, and I will be at your rooms by ten o’clock.

Yours faithfully,

ROBERT FERGUSON.

P. S. I believe your friend Watson played Rugby for Blackheathwhen I was three-quarter for Richmond. It is the only personalintroduction which I can give.

“Of course I remembered him,” said I as I laid down the letter.

Big Bob Ferguson, the finest three-quarter Richmond everhad. He was always a good-natured chap. It’s like him to be soconcerned over a friend’s case.”

Holmes looked at me thoughtfully and shook his head.

“I never get your limits, Watson,” said he. “There are unexploredpossibilities about you. Take a wire down, like a good fellow. ‘Willexamine your case with pleasure.’ ”

“Your case!”

“We must not let him think that this agency is a home for theweak-minded. Of course it is his case. Send him that wire and letthe matter rest till morning.”

Promptly at ten o’clock next morning Ferguson strode into ourroom. I had remembered him as a long, slab-sided man with looselimbs and a fine turn of speed which had carried him round manyan opposing back. There is surely nothing in life more painfulthan to meet the wreck of a fine athlete whom one has known inhis prime. His great frame had fallen in, his flaxen hair was scanty,and his shoulders were bowed. I fear that I roused correspondingemotions in him.

“Hullo, Watson,” said he, and his voice was still deep and hearty.

You don’t look quite the man you did when I threw you overthe ropes into the crowd at the Old Deer Park. I expect I haveThe Case Book of Sherlock Holmes 1303

changed a bit also. But it’s this last day or two that has aged me. Isee by your telegram, Mr. Holmes, that it is no use my pretendingto be anyone’s deputy.

“It is simpler to deal direct,” said Holmes.

“Of course it is. But you can imagine how difficult it is when youare speaking of the one woman whom you are bound to protectand help. What can I do? How am I to go to the police with such astory? And yet the kiddies have got to be protected. Is it madness,Mr. Holmes? Is it something in the blood? Have you any similarcase in your experience? For God’s sake, give me some advice, forI am at my wit’s end.”