博斯库姆溪谷谜案 The Boscombe Valley Mystery （三）

It was nearly four o'clock when we at last, after passing through

the beautiful Stroud Valley, and over the broad gleaming Severn,

found ourselves at the pretty little country-town of Ross. A

lean, ferret-like man, furtive and sly-looking, was waiting for

us upon the platform. In spite of the light brown dustcoat and

leather-leggings which he wore in deference to his rustic

surroundings, I had no difficulty in recognizing Lestrade, of

Scotland Yard. With him we drove to the Hereford Arms where a

room had already been engaged for us.

"I have ordered a carriage," said Lestrade as we sat over a cup

of tea. "I knew your energetic nature, and that you would not be

happy until you had been on the scene of the crime."

"It was very nice and complimentary of you," Holmes answered. "It

is entirely a question of barometric pressure."

Lestrade looked startled. "I do not quite follow," he said.

"How is the glass? Twenty-nine, I see. No wind, and not a cloud

in the sky. I have a caseful of cigarettes here which need

smoking, and the sofa is very much superior to the usual country

hotel abomination. I do not think that it is probable that I

shall use the carriage to-night."

Lestrade laughed indulgently. "You have, no doubt, already formed

your conclusions from the newspapers," he said. "The case is as

plain as a pikestaff, and the more one goes into it the plainer

it becomes. Still, of course, one can't refuse a lady, and such a

very positive one, too. She has heard of you, and would have your

opinion, though I repeatedly told her that there was nothing

which you could do which I had not already done. Why, bless my

soul! here is her carriage at the door."

He had hardly spoken before there rushed into the room one of the

most lovely young women that I have ever seen in my life. Her

violet eyes shining, her lips parted, a pink flush upon her

cheeks, all thought of her natural reserve lost in her

overpowering excitement and concern.

"Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes!" she cried, glancing from one to the

other of us, and finally, with a woman's quick intuition,

fastening upon my companion, "I am so glad that you have come. I

have driven down to tell you so. I know that James didn't do it.

I know it, and I want you to start upon your work knowing it,

too. Never let yourself doubt upon that point. We have known each

other since we were little children, and I know his faults as no

one else does; but he is too tenderhearted to hurt a fly. Such a

charge is absurd to anyone who really knows him."

"I hope we may clear him, Miss Turner," said Sherlock Holmes.

"You may rely upon my doing all that I can."

"But you have read the evidence. You have formed some conclusion?

Do you not see some loophole, some flaw? Do you not yourself

think that he is innocent?"

"I think that it is very probable."

"There, now!" she cried, throwing back her head and looking

defiantly at Lestrade. "You hear! He gives me hopes."

Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. "I am afraid that my colleague

has been a little quick in forming his conclusions," he said.

"But he is right. Oh! I know that he is right. James never did

it. And about his quarrel with his father, I am sure that the

reason why he would not speak about it to the coroner was because

I was concerned in it."

"In what way?" asked Holmes.

"It is no time for me to hide anything. James and his father had

many disagreements about me. Mr. McCarthy was very anxious that

there should be a marriage between us. James and I have always

loved each other as brother and sister; but of course he is young

and has seen very little of life yet, and--and--well, he

naturally did not wish to do anything like that yet. So there

were quarrels, and this, I am sure, was one of them."

"And your father?" asked Holmes. "Was he in favor of such a

union?"

"No, he was averse to it also. No one but Mr. McCarthy was in

favor of it." A quick blush passed over her fresh young face as

Holmes shot one of his keen, questioning glances at her.

"Thank you for this information," said he. "May I see your father

if I call to-morrow?"

"I am afraid the doctor won't allow it."

"The doctor?"

"Yes, have you not heard? Poor father has never been strong for

years back, but this has broken him down completely. He has taken

to his bed, and Dr. Willows says that he is a wreck and that his

nlervous system is shattered. Mr. McCarthy was the only man alive

who had known dad in the old days in Victoria."

"Ha! ln Victoria! That is important."

"Yes, at the mines."

"Quite so; at the gold-mines, where, as I understand, Mr. Turner

made his money."

"Yes, certainly."

"Thank you, Miss Turner. You have been of material assistance to

me."

"You will tell me if you have any news to-morrow. No doubt you

will go to the prison to see James. Oh, if you do, Mr. Holmes, do

tell him that I know him to be innocent."

"I will, Miss Turner."

"I must go home now, for dad is very ill, and he misses me so if

I leave him. Good-bye, and God help you in your undertaking." She

hurried from the room as impulsively as she had entered, and we

heard the wheels of her carriage rattle off down the street.