福尔摩斯探案经典:《恐怖谷》第4章Part3

"No tracks or marks?"
"None."
"Ha! Would there be any objection, Mr. White Mason, to our going down to the house at once? There may possibly be some small point which might be suggestive."
"I was going to propose it, Mr. Holmes; but I thought it well to put you in touch with all the facts before we go. I suppose if anything should strike you--" White Mason looked doubtfully at the amateur.
"I have worked with Mr. Holmes before," said Inspector MacDonald. "He plays the game."
"My own idea of the game, at any rate," said Holmes, with a smile. "I go into a case to help the ends of justice and the work of the police. If I have ever separated myself from the official force, it is because they have first separated themselves from me. I have no wish ever to score at their expense. At the same time, Mr. White Mason, I claim the right to work in my own way and give my results at my own time--complete rather than in stages."
"I am sure we are honoured by your presence and to show you all we know," said White Mason cordially. "Come along, Dr. Watson, and when the time comes we'll all hope for a place in your book."
We walked down the quaint village street with a row of pollarded elms on each side of it. Just beyond were two ancient stone pillars, weather-stained and lichen-blotched, bearing upon their summits a shapeless something which had once been the rampant lion of Capus of Birlstone. A short walk along the winding drive with such sward and oaks around it as one only sees in rural England, then a sudden turn, and the long, low Jacobean house of dingy, liver-coloured brick lay before us, with an old-fashioned garden of cut yews on each side of it. As we approached it, there was the wooden drawbridge and the beautiful broad moat as still and luminous as quicksilver in the cold, winter sunshine.
Three centuries had flowed past the old Manor House, centuries of births and of homecomings, of country dances and of the meetings of fox hunters. Strange that now in its old age this dark business should have cast its shadow upon the venerable walls! And yet those strange, peaked roofs and quaint, overhung gables were a fitting covering to grim and terrible intrigue. As I looked at the deep-set windows and the long sweep of the dull-coloured, water-lapped front, I felt that no more fitting scene could be set for such a tragedy.
"That's the window," said White Mason, "that one on the immediate right of the drawbridge. It's open just as it was found last night."
"It looks rather narrow for a man to pass."
"Well, it wasn't a fat man, anyhow. We don't need your deductions, Mr. Holmes, to tell us that. But you or I could squeeze through all right."
Holmes walked to the edge of the moat and looked across. Then he examined the stone ledge and the grass border beyond it.
"I've had a good look, Mr. Holmes," said White Mason. "There is nothing there, no sign that anyone has landed--but why should he leave any sign?"
"Exactly. Why should he? Is the water always turbid?"
"Generally about this colour. The stream brings down the clay."
"How deep is it?"
"About two feet at each side and three in the middle."
"So we can put aside all idea of the man having been drowned in crossing."
"No, a child could not be drowned in it."
We walked across the drawbridge, and were admitted by a quaint, gnarled, dried-up person, who was the butler, Ames. The poor old fellow was white and quivering from the shock. The village sergeant, a tall, formal, melancholy man, still held his vigil in the room of Fate. The doctor had departed.
"Anything fresh, Sergeant Wilson?" asked White Mason.
"No, sir."

“没有一点足迹或手印吗？”
“没有。”
“哈！怀特·梅森先生，你不反对我们立即动身到庄园中去么？那里可能会有一些小的线索可以给我们一些启示的。”
“福尔摩斯先生，我本想建议去的，可是我想在我们去以前，最好让你先把一切详情了解清楚。我想，如果有什么触犯了你……"怀特·梅森犹豫不决地看着这位同行说。
“我以前和福尔摩斯先生一起办过案子，"警官麦克唐纳说道，“他一向为人光明磊落。”
福尔摩斯微笑着回答：“至少是按照我个人对这一工作的理解。我参加办案是为了有助于申张正义，帮助警方工作。如果我不与官方合作，那是因为他们首先不与我合作。我从来不想去和他们争功劳。同时，怀特·梅森先生，我要求有权利完全按我自己的思路办案，并且在我认为适当的时间交出我的成果——自始至终，而不只是在某些阶段上有这种权利。”
“我确信，你参加办案是我们的荣幸。我们一定把所知道的全部案情介绍给你，"怀特·梅森热诚地说，“华生医生，请随我来。到时候，我们都希望在您的书里能有一席之地呢。”
我们沿着古雅的乡村街道走去，大街两侧各有一行截梢的榆树。远处是一对古代石柱，已因风吹雨淋而斑驳变色，长满藓苔，石柱顶上的东西已经失去原形，那过去曾经是伯尔斯通的两个后脚立起的石狮。顺着迂回曲折的车道往前走不远，四周尽是草地和栎树，人们只有在英国农村才能看到这种景色。然后是一个急转弯，眼前看到一片长长的、低矮的詹姆士一世时期的古别墅，别墅的砖已成了暗褐色的了。还有一个老式的花园，两旁都有修剪的整整齐齐的紫杉树。我们走到庄园跟前就看到了一座木吊桥和幽美宽阔的护城河，河中的水在寒冬的阳光下象水银一样，一譬如镜，闪闪发光。
这座古老的庄园自从建成以来，时光流逝，已有三百多年了，它反映出几百年的人事沧桑、悲欢离合。奇妙的是，由于历史悠久，好象现在从这些古老的墙上可以显出犯罪的先兆来。还有那些奇怪的高耸的屋顶以及古怪的突出的山墙，更适于掩护可怖的阴谋。当我看到那些阴沉沉的窗户和前面一片暗淡的颜色和水流冲刷的景象时，我感到发生这样一件惨案，没有比这里更适当的场合了。
“这就是那扇窗户，"怀特·梅森说道，“吊桥右边的那一扇，正象昨晚发现时那样地开着。”
“要想钻过一个人去，这扇窗户可够窄的啊。”
“也许这个人并不胖。我们不需要用你的推论来告诉我们这一点，福尔摩斯先生。不过你和我完全可以挤过去。”
福尔摩斯走到护城河边，向对面望去。然后他又查验了突出的石岸和它后面的草地的边缘。
“福尔摩斯先生，我已经仔细看过了，"怀特·梅森说道，“可这里什么也没有，没有任何能说明有人上岸的痕迹。不过，他为什么一定要留下痕迹呢？”
“对啊，他为什么一定要留下痕迹呢？护城河水总是这样浑浊吗？”
“通常是这种颜色。因为河水流下来的时候，总是夹杂着泥沙的。”
“河水有多深？”
“两侧大约两英尺左右，中间有三英尺深。”
“那么，我们可以排除那个人在蹚过护城河时淹死的这种想法了。”
“不会的，就是小孩也不会淹死的。”
我们走过吊桥，一个古怪乖戾而又骨瘦如柴的人把我们迎了进去。这就是管家艾姆斯。可怜的老人受到惊吓，面色苍白，浑身微颤。乡村警官威尔逊是个身材高大、郑重其事和心情抑郁的人，仍然守在现场屋中。医生已经离开了。
“威尔逊警官，有什么新情况吗？"怀特·梅森问道。
“没有，先生。”