跳舞的小人（14）

“Has he been moved?” asked Holmes.

“We have moved nothing except the lady. We could not leave her lying wounded upon the floor.”

“How long have you been here, doctor?”

“Since four o'clock.”

“Anyone else?”

“Yes, the constable here.”

“And you have touched nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“You have acted with great discretion. Who sent for you?”

“The housemaid, Saunders.”

“Was it she who gave the alarm?”

“She and Mrs. King, the cook.”

“Where are they now?”

“In the kitchen, I believe.”

“Then I think we had better hear their story at once.”

The old hall, oak-panelled and high-windowed, had been turned into a court of investigation. Holmes sat in a great, old-fashioned chair, his inexorable eyes gleaming out of his haggard face. I could read in them a set purpose to devote his life to this quest until the client whom he had failed to save should at last be avenged. The trim Inspector Martin, the old, grey-headed country doctor, myself, and a stolid village policeman made up the rest of that strange company.

The two women told their story clearly enough. They had been aroused from their sleep by the sound of an explosion, which had been followed a minute later by a second one. They slept in adjoining rooms, and Mrs. King had rushed in to Saunders. Together they had descended the stairs. The door of the study was open and a candle was burning upon the table. Their master lay upon his face in the centre of the room. He was quite dead. Near the window his wife was crouching, her head leaning against the wall. She was horribly wounded, and the side of her face was red with blood. She breathed heavily, but was incapable of saying anything. The passage, as well as the room, was full of smoke and the smell of powder. The window was certainly shut and fastened upon the inside. Both women were positive upon the point. They had at once sent for the doctor and for the constable. Then, with the aid of the groom and the stable-boy, they had conveyed their injured mistress to her room. Both she and her husband had occupied the bed. She was clad in her dress—he in his dressing-gown, over his night clothes. Nothing had been moved in the study. So far as they knew there had never been any quarrel between husband and wife. They had always looked upon them as a very united couple.

“有没有把他搬动过？”

“没有，只把他妻子抬出去了。我们不能让她伤成那样还在地板上躺着。”

“您到这儿有多久了，大夫？”

“从四点钟一直到现在。”

“还有别人吗？”

“有的，就是这位警长。”

“您什么都没有碰吧？”

“没有。”

“您考虑得很周全。是谁去请您来的？”

“这家的女仆桑德斯。”

“是她发觉的？”

“她跟厨子金太太两个。”

“现在她们在哪儿？”

“在厨房里吧，我想。”

“我看咱们最好马上听听她们怎么说。”

这间有橡木墙板和高窗户的古老大厅变成了调查庭。福尔摩斯坐在一把老式的大椅子上，脸色憔悴，他那双不宽容的眼睛却闪闪发亮。我能从他眼睛里看出坚定不移的决心，他准备用毕生的力量来追查这件案子，一直到为这位他没能搭救的委托人最后报了仇为止。在大厅里坐着的那一伙奇怪的人当中，还有衣着整齐的马丁警长，白发苍苍的乡村医生，我自己和一个呆头呆脑的本村警察。

这两个妇女讲得十分清楚。一声爆炸把她们从睡梦中惊醒了，接着又响了一声。她们睡在两间连着的房间里，金太太这时已经跑到桑德斯的房间里来了。她们一块儿下了楼。书房门是敞开的，桌上点着一支蜡烛。主人脸朝下趴在书房正中间，已经死了。他的妻子就在挨近窗户的地方蜷着、脑袋靠在墙上。她伤得非常重且满脸是血，大口大口地喘着气，但是说不出活来。走廊和书房里满是烟和火药味儿。窗户是关着的，并且从里面插上了。在这一点上，她们两人都说得很肯定。她们立即就叫人去找医生和警察，然后在马夫和小马倌的帮助下，他们把受伤的女主人抬回她的卧室。出事前夫妻两个已经就寝了，她穿着衣服，他睡衣的外面套着便袍。书房里的东西，都没有动过。就她们所知，夫期间从来没有吵过架。她们一直把他们夫妇看作非常和睦的一对。