福尔摩斯探案集第5季 福尔摩斯探案经典:《恐怖谷》第3章Part2

福尔摩斯探案经典:《恐怖谷》第3章Part2  

The good impression which had been produced by his generosity and by his democratic manners was increased by a reputation gained for utter indifference to danger. Though a wretched rider
he turned out at every meet
and took the most amazing falls in his determination to hold his own with the best. When the vicarage caught fire he distinguished himself also by the fearlessness with which he reentered the building to save property
after the local fire brigade had given it up as impossible. Thus it came about that John Douglas of the Manor House had within five years won himself quite a reputation in Birlstone.
His wife
too
was popular with those who had made her acquaintance; though
after the English fashion
the callers upon a stranger who settled in the county without introductions were few and far beeen. This mattered the less to her
as she was retiring by disposition
and very much absorbed
to all appearance
in her husband and her domestic duties. It was known that she was an English lady who had met Mr. Douglas in London
he being at that time a widower. She was a beautiful woman
tall
dark
and slender
some enty years younger than her husband; a disparity which seemed in no wise to mar the contentment of their family life.
It was remarked sometimes
however
by those who knew them best
that the confidence beeen the o did not appear to be plete
since the wife was either very reticent about her husband's past life
or else
as seemed more likely
was imperfectly informed about it. It had also been noted and mented upon by a few observant people that there were signs sometimes of some nerve-strain upon the part of Mrs. Douglas
and that she would display acute uneasiness if her absent husband should ever be particularly late in his return. On a quiet countryside
where all gossip is wele
this weakness of the lady of the Manor House did not pass without remark
and it bulked larger upon people's memory when the events arose which gave it a very special significance.
There was yet another individual whose residence under that roof was
it is true
only an intermittent one
but whose presence at the time of the strange happenings which will now be narrated brought his name prominently before the public. This was Cecil James Barker
of Hales Lodge
Hampstead.
Cecil Barker's tall
loose-jointed figure was a familiar one in the main street of Birlstone village; for he was a frequent and wele visitor at the Manor House. He was the more noticed as being the only friend of the past unknown life of Mr. Douglas who was ever seen in his new English surroundings. Barker was himself an undoubted Englishman; but by his remarks it was clear that he had first known Douglas in America and had there lived on intimate terms with him. He appeared to be a man of considerable wealth
and was reputed to be a bachelor.
In age he was rather younger than Douglas--forty-five at the most--a tall
straight
broad-chested fellow with a clean-shaved
prize-fighter face
thick
strong
black eyebrows
and a pair of masterful black eyes which might
even without the aid of his very capable hands
clear a way for him through a hostile crowd. He neither rode nor shot
but spent his days in wandering round the old village with his pipe in his mouth
or in driving with his host
or in his absence with his hostess
over the beautiful countryside. "An easy-going
free-handed gentleman
" said Ames
the butler. "But
my word! I had rather not be the man that crossed him!" He was cordial and intimate with Douglas
and he was no less friendly with his wife--a friendship which more than once seemed to cause some irritation to the husband
so that even the servants were able to perceive his annoyance. Such was the third person who was one of the family when the catastrophe occurred.
As to the other denizens of the old building
it will suffice out of a large household to mention the prim
respectable
and capable Ames
and Mrs. Allen
a buxom and cheerful person
who relieved the lady of some of her household cares. The other six servants in the house bear no relation to the events of the night of January 6th.
It was at eleven forty-five that the first alarm reached the small local police station
in charge of Sergeant Wilson of the Sussex Constabulary. Cecil Barker
much excited
had rushed up to the door and pealed furiously upon the bell. A terrible tragedy had occurred at the Manor House
and John Douglas had been murdered. That was the breathless burden of his message. He had hurried back to the house
followed within a few minutes by the police sergeant
who arrived at the scene of the crime a little after elve o'clock
after taking prompt steps to warn the county authorities that something serious was afoot.
On reaching the Manor House
the sergeant had found the drawbridge down
the windows lighted up
and the whole household in a state of wild confusion and alarm. The white-faced servants were huddling together in the hall
with the frightened butler wringing his hands in the doorway. Only Cecil Barker seemed to be master of himself and his emotions; he had opened the door which was nearest to the entrance and he had beckoned to the sergeant to follow him. At that moment there arrived Dr. Wood
a brisk and capable general practitioner from the village. The three men entered the fatal room together
while the horror-stricken butler followed at their heels
closing the door behind him to shut out the terrible scene from the maid servants.
The dead man lay on his back
sprawling with outstretched limbs in the centre of the room. He was clad only in a pink dressing gown
which covered his night clothes. There were carpet slippers on his bare feet. The doctor knelt beside him and held down the hand lamp which had stood on the table. One glance at the victim was enough to show the healer that his presence could be dispensed with. The man had been horribly injured. Lying across his chest was a curious weapon
a shotgun with the barrel sawed off a foot in front of the triggers. It was clear that this had been fired at close range and that he had received the whole charge in the face
blowing his head almost to pieces. The triggers had been wired together
so as to make the simultaneous discharge more destructive.
The country policeman was unnerved and troubled by the tremendous responsibility which had e so suddenly upon him. "We will touch nothing until my superiors arrive
" he said in a hushed voice
staring in horror at the dreadful head.
"Nothing has been touched up to now
" said Cecil Barker. "I'll answer for that. You see it all exactly as I found it."
"When was that?" The sergeant had drawn out his notebook.
"It was just half-past eleven. I had not begun to undress
and I was sitting by the fire in my bedroom when I heard the report. It was not very loud--it seemed to be muffled. I rushed down--I don't suppose it was thirty seconds before I was in the room."
"Was the door open?"
"Yes
it was open. Poor Douglas was lying as you see him. His bedroom candle was burning on the table. It was I who lit the lamp some minutes afterward."
"Did you see no one?"
"No. I heard Mrs. Douglas ing down the stair behind me
and I rushed out to prevent her from seeing this dreadful sight. Mrs. Allen
the housekeeper
came and took her away. Ames had arrived
and we ran back into the room once more."
"But surely I have heard that the drawbridge is kept up all night."
"Yes
it was up until I lowered it."
"Then how could any murderer have got away? It is out of the question! Mr. Douglas must have shot himself."
"That was our first idea. But see!" Barker drew aside the curtain
and showed that the long
diamond-paned window was open to its full extent. "And look at this!" He held the lamp down and illuminated a smudge of blood like the mark of a boot-sole upon the wooden sill. "Someone has stood there in getting out."
"You mean that someone waded across the moat?"
"Exactly!"