Read Online The Exploits of Sherlock Holmes by John Dickson Carr, Adrian Conan Doyle - Free Book Online Page B

only the sheet of crested note-paper which
    Holmes had flung down there. From the pocket of his dressing-gown he took out the snuff box
    of old gold, with a great amethyst in the centre of the lid, which had been a present from the
    King of Bohemia.
    "However," he added, "every move made by Sir Gervase Darlington is now carefully
    watched. Should he so much as attempt to communicate with any suspicious person, he will be
    warned off the turf even if he does not land in gaol. I cannot recall the name of the horse on
    which he wagered—"
    "Lord Hove's Bengal Lady," cried I. "By Indian Rajah out of Countess. She finished three
    furlongs ahead of the field. Though, of course," I added, "I know little more of racing
    matters than yourself."
    "Indeed, Watson?"
    "Holmes, such suspicions as you appear to entertain are base and unworthy! I am a
    married man with a depleted bank balance. Besides, what race is run in such wild weather as
    this?"
    "Well, the Grand National cannot be too far off."
    "By Jove, yes! Lord Hove has two entries for the Grand National. Many fancy Thunder
    Lad, though not much is expected of Sheerness. But to me," I added, "a scandal attached to the
    sport of kings is incredible. Lord Hove is an honourable man."
    "Precisely. Being an honourable man, he is no friend to Sir Gervase Darlington."
    "But why are you sure Sir Gervase can bring you nothing of interest?"
    "If you were acquainted with the gentleman, Watson, you would acquit him of being
    concerned in anything whatever of interest, save that he is a really formidable heavy-weight
    boxer—" Holmes whistled. "Come! Sir Gervase was among those who witnessed my own
    trifling encounter with the Bully Boy this morning."
    "Then what can he want of you?"
    "Even if the question were of any moment, I have no data. A pinch of snuff, Watson? Well,
    well, I am not enamoured of it myself, though it represents an occasional variation from too
    much self-poisoning by nicotine."
    I could not help laughing.
    "My dear Holmes, your case is typical. Every medical man knows that a patient with an
    injury like yours, though the injury is slight and even of a humorous character, becomes as
    unreasonable as a child."
    Holmes snapped shut the snuff-box and put it into his pocket.
    "Watson," said he, "grateful though I am for your presence, I shall be obliged if you do not
    utter one word more for at least the next six hours, lest I say something which I may regret."
    Thus, remaining silent even at supper, we sat very late in the snug room. Holmes
    moodily cross-indexed his records of crime, and I was deep in the pages of the British
    Medical Journal. Save for the tick of the clock and the crackle of the fire, there was no sound
    but the shrieking of the March gale, which drove the rain against the windows like
    handfuls of small shot, and growled and whooped in the chimney.
    "No, no," my friend said querulously, at long last. "Optimism is stupidity. Certainly no
    case will come to my—Hark! Was that not the bell?"
    "Yes. I heard it clearly in spite of the wind. But who can it be?"
    "If a client," said Holmes, craning his long neck for a glimpse of the clock, "it must
    be a matter of deep seriousness to bring someone out at two in the morning and in such a
    gale."
    After some delay, during which it took Mrs. Hudson an interminable time to rise from her
    bed and open the street door, no less than two clients were ushered into our room. Both of them
    had been speaking at once, but their conversation became distinct as they approached the door-
    way.
    "Grandfather, you mustn't!" came a young woman's voice. "For the last time, please! You
    don't want Mr. Holmes to think you are," here she lowered her voice to a whisper, "simple."
    "I'm not simple!" cried her companion. "Drat it, Nellie, I see what I see! I should have come
    to tell the gentleman yesterday morning, only you wouldn't hear of it."
    "But, Grandfather, that Room of Horrors is a fearfully frightening place. You imagined
    it,