最后一案（13）（在线收听）

It may have been a little over an hour before I reached Meiringen. Old Steiler was standing at the porch of his hotel.

“Well,” said I, as I came hurrying up, “I trust that she is no worse?”

A look of surprise passed over his face, and at the first quiver of his eyebrows my heart turned to lead in my breast.

“You did not write this?” I said, pulling the letter from my pocket. “There is no sick Englishwoman in the hotel?”

“Certainly not!” he cried. “But it has the hotel mark upon it! Ha, it must have been written by that tall Englishman who came in after you had gone. He said—”

But I waited for none of the landlord's explanations. In a tingle of fear I was already running down the village street, and making for the path which I had so lately descended. It had taken me an hour to come down. For all my efforts two more had passed before I found myself at the fall of Reichenbach once more. There was Holmes's Alpine-stock still leaning against the rock by which I had left him. But there was no sign of him, and it was in vain that I shouted. My only answer was my own voice reverberating in a rolling echo from the cliffs around me.

It was the sight of that Alpine-stock which turned me cold and sick. He had not gone to Rosenlaui, then. He had remained on that three-foot path, with sheer wall on one side and sheer drop on the other, until his enemy had overtaken him. The young Swiss had gone too. He had probably been in the pay of Moriarty, and had left the two men together. And then what had happened? Who was to tell us what had happened then?

I stood for a minute or two to collect myself, for I was dazed with the horror of the thing. Then I began to think of Holmes's own methods and to try to practise them in reading this tragedy. It was, alas, only too easy to do. During our conversation we had not gone to the end of the path, and the Alpine-stock marked the place where we had stood. The blackish soil is kept forever soft by the incessant drift of spray, and a bird would leave its tread upon it. Two lines of footmarks were clearly marked along the farther end of the path, both leading away from me. There were none returning. A few yards from the end the soil was all ploughed up into a patch of mud, and the branches and ferns which fringed the chasm were torn and bedraggled. I lay upon my face and peered over with the spray spouting up all around me. It had darkened since I left, and now I could only see here and there the glistening of moisture upon the black walls, and far away down at the end of the shaft the gleam of the broken water. I shouted; but only the same half-human cry of the fall was borne back to my ears.

But it was destined that I should after all have a last word of greeting from my friend and comrade. I have said that his Alpine-stock had been left leaning against a rock which jutted on to the path. From the top of this boulder the gleam of something bright caught my eye, and, raising my hand, I found that it came from the silver cigarette-case which he used to carry. As I took it up a small square of paper upon which it had lain fluttered down on to the ground. Unfolding it, I found that it consisted of three pages torn from his note-book and addressed to me. It was characteristic of the man that the direction was as precise, and the writing as firm and clear, as though it had been written in his study.

大约走了一个多小时，我才到迈林根。老斯太勒正站在旅馆门口。

“喂，”我急忙走过去说道，“我相信她病情没有恶化吧？”

他顿时面呈惊异之色，一见他双眉向上一扬，我的心不由沉重起来。

“你没有写这封信吗？”我从衣袋里掏出信来问道，“旅馆里没有一位生病的英国女人吗？”

“当然没有！”他大声说道，“可是这上面有旅馆的印章！

哈，这一定是那个高个子英国人写的，他是在你们走后来到这里的。他说……”

可是我没等店主说完，便惊恐失色沿村路急速跑回，奔向刚才走过的那条小径。我来时是下坡走了一个多小时，可这次返回是上坡，尽避我拼命快跑，返回莱辛巴赫瀑布时，还是过了两个多小时。福尔摩斯的登山杖依然靠在我们分手时他靠过的那块岩石上。可是却不见他本人的踪影，我大声呼唤着，可是耳边只有四周山谷传来的回声。

看到登山杖，不由使我不寒而栗。那么说，他没有到罗森洛依去，在遭到仇敌袭击时，他依然待在这条一边是陡壁、一边是深涧的三英尺宽的小径上。那个瑞士少年也不见了。他可能拿了莫里亚蒂的赏钱，留下这两个对手走开了。后来发生了什么事？有谁来告诉我们后来发生了什么事呢？

我被这件事吓昏了头，在那里站了一两分钟，竭力使自己镇静下来，然后开始想起福尔摩斯的方法，竭力运用它去查明这场悲剧。哎呀，这并不难。我们谈话时，还没有走到小径的尽头，登山杖就说明了我们曾经站过的地方。微黑的土壤受到水花经常不断的溅洒，始终是松一软的，即使一只鸟落在上面也会留下爪印。在我脚下，有两排清晰的脚印一直通向小径尽头处，并没有返回的痕迹。离小路尽头处几码的地方，地面被践踏成泥泞小道裂罅边上的荆棘和羊齿草被扯乱，倒伏一在泥水中。我伏一在罅边，低头查看，水花在我周围喷溅。我离开旅馆时，天色已经开始黑下来，现在我只能看到黑色的峭壁上的水珠熠熠发光以及峡谷远处一浪一花冲击的闪光。我大声呼唤，可是只有那瀑布的奔腾犹如人声传入耳中。

不过命中注定，我终于找到了我朋友和同志的临终遗言。

我刚才已经说过，他的登山杖斜靠在小径旁的一块凸出的岩石上。在这块圆石顶上有一件东西闪闪发光，映入我的眼帘，我举手取下来，发现那是福尔摩斯经常随身携带的银烟盒。我拿起烟盒，烟盒下面压着的叠成小方块的纸飞落到地面。我打开它，原来是从笔记本上撕下来的三页纸，是写给我的。它完全显出福尔摩斯的特一性一，指示照样准确，笔法刚劲有力，仿佛是在书房写成的。