Знак четырех
XII. The Strange Story of Jonathan Small
“Icouldhearthemeasuredtrampoftheirfootstepssoundingthroughthelonelycorridors.Suddenlyitceased,andIheardvoices,andascuffle,withthesoundofblows.Amomentlatertherecame,tomyhorror,arushoffootstepscominginmydirection,withtheloudbreathingofarunningman.Iturnedmylanterndownthelong,straightpassage,andtherewasthefatman,runninglikethewind,withasmearofbloodacrosshisface,andcloseathisheels,boundinglikeatiger,thegreatblack-beardedSikh,withaknifeflashinginhishand.Ihaveneverseenamanrunsofastasthatlittlemerchant.HewasgainingontheSikh,andIcouldseethatifheoncepassedmeandgottotheopenairhewouldsavehimselfyet.Myheartsoftenedtohim,butagainthethoughtofhistreasureturnedmehardandbitter.Icastmyfirelockbetweenhislegsasheracedpast,andherolledtwiceoverlikeashotrabbit.ErehecouldstaggertohisfeettheSikhwasuponhim,andburiedhisknifetwiceinhisside.Themanneverutteredmoannormovedmuscle,butlaywerehehadfallen.Ithinkmyselfthathemayhavebrokenhisneckwiththefall.Yousee,gentlemen,thatIamkeepingmypromise.Iamtellingyoueveryworkofthebusinessjustexactlyasithappened,whetheritisinmyfavourornot.”
Hestopped,andheldouthismanacledhandsforthewhiskey-and-waterwhichHolmeshadbrewedforhim.