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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet
Capítulo 11, Página 1
"Holmes,"
I
said
one
morning
as
I
looked
out
the
window,
"there
is
a
madman
coming.
It's
sad
his
family
lets
him
go
out
alone."
My
friend
got
up
slowly
from
his
chair.
He
stood
next
to
me,
looking
over
my
shoulder.
It
was
a
bright
February
morning.
The
snow
from
yesterday
was
still
on
the
ground.
It
shone
brightly
in
the
sun.
On
Baker
Street,
the
snow
had
been
pushed
into
a
brown
path
by
the
cars.
But
on
the
sides,
it
was
still
white.
The
pavement
was
clean
but
very
slippery.
There
were
fewer
people
than
usual.
No
one
came
from
the
station
except
the
man
who
caught
my
attention.
He
was
about
fifty,
tall
and
strong,
with
a
big
face.
He
wore
a
black
coat,
shiny
hat,
brown
gaiters,
and
grey
trousers.
But
his
actions
were
strange
for
such
a
dignified
look.
He
ran
hard,
jumping
a
bit
like
a
tired
man.
As
he
ran,
he
moved
his
hands
up
and
down,
shook
his
head,
and
made
funny
faces.
"What
is
wrong
with
him?"
I
asked.
"He
is
looking
at
the
house
numbers."
"I
think
he
is
coming
here,"
said
Holmes,
rubbing
his
hands.
"Here?"
"Yes,
I
think
he
wants
my
help.
I
know
the
signs.
Look,
didn't
I
say
so?"
As
Holmes
spoke,
the
man
ran
to
our
door
and
rang
the
bell
loudly.
A
moment
later,
he
was
in
our
room,
still
out
of
breath
and
moving
his
hands.
His
eyes
showed
deep
sadness
and
despair.
Our
smiles
turned
to
shock
and
pity.
He
couldn't
speak
at
first,
just
moved
his
body
and
pulled
his
hair
like
he
was
very
upset.
Then
he
jumped
up
and
hit
his
head
against
the
wall.
We
rushed
to
stop
him
and
brought
him
to
the
center
of
the
room.
Holmes
pushed
him
into
a
chair
and
sat
beside
him,
speaking
softly.
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — A2 Inglés | Cuentana