the adventure of the golden pince-nez-第1部分

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　SHERLOCK　HOLMES

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　ADVENTURE　OF　THE　GOLDEN　PINCE…NEZ

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　by　Sir　Arthur　Conan　Doyle



　　When　I　look　at　the　three　massive　manuscript　volumes　which　contain

our　work　for　the　year　1894；　I　confess　that　it　is　very　difficult　for

me；　out　of　such　a　wealth　of　material；　to　select　the　cases　which　are

most　interesting　in　themselves；　and　at　the　same　time　most　conducive　to

a　display　of　those　peculiar　powers　for　which　my　friend　was　famous。

As　I　turn　over　the　pages；　I　see　my　notes　upon　the　repulsive　story　of

the　red　leech　and　the　terrible　death　of　Crosby；　the　banker。　Here

also　I　find　an　account　of　the　Addleton　tragedy；　and　the　singular

contents　of　the　ancient　British　barrow。　The　famous　Smith…Mortimer

succession　case　comes　also　within　this　period；　and　so　does　the

tracking　and　arrest　of　Huret；　the　Boulevard　assassin…　an　exploit　which

won　for　Holmes　an　autograph　letter　of　thanks　from　the　French　President

and　the　Order　of　the　Legion　of　Honour。　Each　of　these　would　furnish　a

narrative；　but　on　the　whole　I　am　of　opinion　that　none　of　them　unites

so　many　singular　points　of　interest　as　the　episode　of　Yoxley　Old

Place；　which　includes　not　only　the　lamentable　death　of　young

Willoughby　Smith；　but　also　those　subsequent　developments　which　threw

so　curious　a　light　upon　the　causes　of　the　crime。

　　It　was　a　wild；　tempestuous　night；　towards　the　close　of　November。

Holmes　and　I　sat　together　in　silence　all　the　evening；　be　engaged

with　a　powerful　lens　deciphering　the　remains　of　the　original

inscription　upon　a　palimpsest；　I　deep　in　a　recent　treatise　upon

surgery。　Outside　the　wind　howled　down　Baker　Street；　while　the　rain

beat　fiercely　against　the　windows。　It　was　strange　there；　in　the　very

depths　of　the　town；　with　ten　miles　of　man's　handiwork　on　every　side　of

us；　to　feel　the　iron　grip　of　Nature；　and　to　be　conscious　that　to　the

huge　elemental　forces　all　London　was　no　more　than　the　molehills　that

dot　the　fields。　I　walked　to　the　window；　and　looked　out　on　the　deserted

street。　The　occasional　lamps　gleamed　on　the　expanse　of　muddy　road

and　shining　pavement。　A　single　cab　was　splashing　its　way　from　the

Oxford　Street　end。

　　〃Well；　Watson；　it's　as　well　we　have　not　to　turn　out　to…night；〃

said　Holmes；　laying　aside　his　lens　and　rolling　up　the　palimpsest。

〃I've　done　enough　for　one　sitting。　It　is　trying　work　for　the　eyes。

So　far　as　I　can　make　out；　it　is　nothing　more　exciting　than　an

Abbey's　accounts　dating　from　the　second　half　of　the　fifteenth　century。

Halloa！　halloa！　halloa！　What's　this？〃

　　Amid　the　droning　of　the　wind　there　had　come　the　stamping　of　a

horse's　hoofs；　and　the　long　grind　of　a　wheel　as　it　rasped　against

the　curb。　The　cab　which　I　had　seen　had　pulled　up　at　our　door。

　　〃What　can　he　want？〃　I　ejaculated；　as　a　man　stepped　out　of　it。

　　〃Want？　He　wants　us。　And　we；　my　poor　Watson；　want　overcoats　and

cravats　and　goloshes；　and　every　aid　that　man　ever　invented　to　fight

the　weather。　Wait　a　bit；　though！　There's　the　cab　off　again！　There's

hope　yet。　He'd　have　kept　it　if　he　had　wanted　us　to　come。　Run　down；

my　dear　fellow；　and　open　the　door；　for　all　virtuous　folk　have　been

long　in　bed。〃

　　When　the　light　of　the　hall　lamp　fell　upon　our　midnight　visitor；　I

had　no　difficulty　in　recognizing　him。　It　was　young　Stanley　Hopkins；

a　promising　detective；　in　whose　career　Holmes　had　several　times

shown　a　very　practical　interest。

　　〃Is　he　in？〃　he　asked；　eagerly。

　　〃Come　up；　my　dear　sir；〃　said　Holmes's　voice　from　above。　〃I　hope

you　have　no　designs　upon　us　such　a　night　as　this。〃

　　The　detective　mounted　the　stairs；　and　our　lamp　gleamed　upon　his

shining　waterproof。　I　helped　him　out　of　it；　while　Holmes　knocked　a

blaze　out　of　the　logs　in　the　grate。

　　〃Now；　my　dear　Hopkins；　draw　up　and　warm　your　toes；〃　said　he。　〃Here's

a　cigar；　and　the　doctor　has　a　prescription　containing　hot　water　and

a　lemon；　which　is　good　medicine　on　a　night　like　this。　It　must　be

something　important　which　has　brought　you　out　in　such　a　gale。〃

　　〃It　is　indeed；　Mr。　Holmes。　I've　had　a　bustling　afternoon；　I

promise　you。　Did　you　see　anything　of　the　Yoxley　case　in　the　latest

editions？〃

　　〃I've　seen　nothing　later　than　the　fifteenth　century　to…day。〃

　　〃Well；　it　was　only　a　paragraph；　and　all　wrong　at　that；　so　you　have

not　missed　anything。　I　haven't　let　the　grass　grow　under　my　feet。

It's　down　in　Kent；　seven　miles　from　Chatham　and　three　from　the　railway

line。　I　was　wired　for　at　3：15；　reached　Yoxley　Old　Place　at　5；

conducted　my　investigation；　was　back　at　Charing　Cross　by　the　last

train；　and　straight　to　you　by　cab。〃

　　〃Which　means；　I　suppose；　that　you　are　not　quite　clear　about　your

case？〃

　　〃It　means　that　I　can　make　neither　head　nor　tail　of　it。　So　far　as　I

can　see；　it　is　just　as　tangled　a　business　as　ever　I　handled；　and　yet

at　first　it　seemed　so　simple　that　one　couldn't　go　wrong。　There's　no

motive；　Mr。　Holmes。　That's　what　bothers　me…　I　can't　put　my　hand　on　a

motive。　Here's　a　man　dead…　there's　no　denying　that…　but；　so　far　as　I

can　see；　no　reason　on　earth　why　anyone　should　wish　him　harm。〃

　　Holmes　lit　his　cigar　and　leaned　back　in　his　chair。

　　〃Let　us　hear　about　it；〃　said　he。

　　〃I've　got　my　facts　pretty　clear；〃　said　Stanley　Hopkins。　〃All　I

want　now　is　to　know　what　they　all　mean。　The　story；　so　far　as　I　can

make　it　out；　is　like　this。　Some　years　ago　this　country　house；　Yoxley

Old　Place；　was　taken　by　an　elderly　man；　who　gave　the　name　of　Professor

Coram。　He　was　an　invalid；　keeping　his　bed　half　the　time；　and　the　other

half　hobbling　round　the　house　with　a　stick　or　being　pushed　about　the

grounds　by　the　gardener　in　a　Bath　chair。　He　was　well　liked　by　the

few　neighbours　who　called　upon　him；　and　he　has　the　reputation　down

there　of　being　a　very　learned　man。　His　household　used　to　consist　of　an

elderly　housekeeper；　Mrs。　Marker；　and　of　a　maid；　Susan　Tarlton。

These　have　both　been　with　him　since　his　arrival；　and　they　seem　to　be

women　of　excellent　character。　The　professor　is　writing　a　learned　book；

and　he　found　it　necessary；　about　a　year　ago；　to　engage　a　secretary。

The　first　two　that　he　tried　were　not　successes；　but　the　third；　Mr。

Willoughby　Smith；　a　very　young　man　straight　from　the　university；　seems

to　have　been　just　what　his　employer　wanted。　His　work　consisted　in

writing　all　the　morning　to　the　professor's　dictation；　and　he　usually

spent　the　evening　in　hunting　up　references　and　passages　which　bore

upon　the　next　day's　work。　This　Willoughby　Smith　has　nothing　against

him；　either　as　a　boy　at　Uppingham　or　as　a　young　man　at　Cambridge。　I

have　seen　his　testimonials；　and　from　the　first　he　was　a　decent；　quiet；

hard…worlding　fellow；　with　no　weak　spot　in　him　at　all。　And　yet　this　is

the　lad　who　has　met　his　death　this　morning　in　the　professor's　study

under　circumstances　which　can　point　only　to　murder。〃

　　The　wind　howled　and　screamed　at　the　windows。　Holmes　and　I　drew

closer　to　the　fire；　while　the　young　inspector　slowly　and　point　by

point　developed　his　singular　narrative。

　　〃If　you　were　to　search　all　England；〃　said　he；　〃I　don't　suppose　you

could　find　a　household　more　self…contained　or　freer　from　outside

influences。　Whole　weeks　would　pass；　and　not　one　of　them　go　past　the

garden　gate。　The　professor　was　buried　in　his　work　and　existed　for

nothing　else。　Young　Smith　knew　nobody　in　the　neighbourhood；　and

lived　very　much　as　his　employer　did。　The　two　women　had　nothing　to　take

them　from　the　house。　Mortimer；　the　gardener；　who　wheels　the　Bath

chair；　is　an　army　pensioner…　an　old　Crimean　man　of　excellent

character。　He　does　not　live　in　the　house；　but　in　a　three…roomed

cottage　at　the　other　end　of　the　garden。　Those　are　the　only　people　that

you　would　find　within　the　grounds　of　Yoxley　Old　Place。　At　the　same

time；　the　gate　of　the　garden　is　a　hundred　yards　from　the　main　London

to　Chatham　road。　It　opens　with　a　latch；　and　there　is　nothing　to

prevent　anyone　from　walking　in。

　　〃Now　I　will　give　you　the　evidence　of　Susan　Tarlton；　who　is　the

only　person　who　can　say　anything　positive　about　the　matter。　It　was

in　the　forenoon；　between　eleven　and　twelve。　She　was　engaged　at　the

moment　in　hanging　some　curtains　in　the　upstairs　front　bedroom。

Professor　Coram　was　still　in　bed；　for　when　the　weather　is　bad　he

seldom　rises　before　midday。　The　housekeeper　was　busied　with　some

work　in　the　back　of　the　house。　Willoughby　Smith　had　been　in　his

bedroom；　which　he　uses　as　a　sitting…room；　but　the　maid　heard　him　at

that　moment　pass　along　the　passage　and　descend　to　the　study

immediately　below　her。　She　did　not　see　him；　but　she　says　that　she

could　not　be　mistaken　in　his　quick；　firm　tread。　She　did　not　hear　the

study　door　close；　but　a　minute　or　so　later　there　was　a　dreadful　cry　in

the　room　below。　It　was　a　wild；　hoarse　scream；　so　strange　and　unnatural

that　it　might　have　come　either　from　a　man　or　a　woman。　At　the　same

instant　there　was　a　heavy　thud；　which　shook　the　old　house；　and　then

all　was　silence。　The　maid　stood　petrified　for　a　moment；　and　then；

recovering　her　courage；　she　ran　downstairs。　The　study　door　was　shut

and　she　opened　it。　Inside；　young　Mr。　Willoughby　Smith　was　stretched

upon　the　floor。　At　first　she　could　see　no　injury；　but　as　she　tried

to　raise　him　she　saw　that　blood　was　pouring　from　the　underside　of

his　neck。　It　was　pierced　by　a　very　small　but　very　deep　wound；　which

had　divided　the　carotid　artery。　The　instrument　with　which　the　injury

had　been　inflicted　lay　upon　the　carpet　beside　him。　It　was　one　of　those

small　sealing…wax　knives　to　be　found　on　old…fashioned　writing

tables；　with　an　ivory　handle　and　a　stiff　blade。　It　was　part　of　the

fittings　of　the　professor's　own　desk。

　　〃At　first　the　maid　thought　that　young　Smith　was　already　dead；　but　on

pouring　some　water　from　the　carafe　over　his　forehead　he　opened　his

eyes　for　an　instant。　'The　professor；'　he　murmured…　'it　was　she。'　The

maid　is　prepared　to　swear　that　those　were　the　exact　words。　He　tried

desperately　to　say　something　else；　and　he　held　his　right　hand　up　in

the　air。　Then　he　fell　back　dead。

　　〃In　the　meantime　the　housekeeper　had　also　arrived　upon　the　scene；

but　she　was　just　too　late　to　catch　the　young　man's　dying　words。

L