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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet
Capítulo 11, Página 14
“It
is
our
task
to
find
that
out,”
replied
Holmes;
“so
now,
if
you
please,
Mr.
Holder,
we
will
set
off
for
Streatham
together,
and
devote
an
hour
to
glancing
a
little
more
closely
into
details.”
My
friend
insisted
upon
my
accompanying
them
in
their
expedition,
which
I
was
eager
enough
to
do,
for
my
curiosity
and
sympathy
were
deeply
stirred
by
the
story
to
which
we
had
listened.
I
confess
that
the
guilt
of
the
banker’s
son
appeared
to
me
to
be
as
obvious
as
it
did
to
his
unhappy
father,
but
still
I
had
such
faith
in
Holmes’
judgment
that
I
felt
that
there
must
be
some
grounds
for
hope
as
long
as
he
was
dissatisfied
with
the
accepted
explanation.
He
hardly
spoke
a
word
the
whole
way
out
to
the
southern
suburb,
but
sat
with
his
chin
upon
his
breast
and
his
hat
drawn
over
his
eyes,
sunk
in
the
deepest
thought.
Our
client
appeared
to
have
taken
fresh
heart
at
the
little
glimpse
of
hope
which
had
been
presented
to
him,
and
he
even
broke
into
a
desultory
chat
with
me
over
his
business
affairs.
A
short
railway
journey
and
a
shorter
walk
brought
us
to
Fairbank,
the
modest
residence
of
the
great
financier.
Fairbank
was
a
good-sized
square
house
of
white
stone,
standing
back
a
little
from
the
road.
A
double
carriage-sweep,
with
a
snow-clad
lawn,
stretched
down
in
front
to
two
large
iron
gates
which
closed
the
entrance.
On
the
right
side
was
a
small
wooden
thicket,
which
led
into
a
narrow
path
between
two
neat
hedges
stretching
from
the
road
to
the
kitchen
door,
and
forming
the
tradesmen’s
entrance.
On
the
left
ran
a
lane
which
led
to
the
stables,
and
was
not
itself
within
the
grounds
at
all,
being
a
public,
though
little
used,
thoroughfare.
Holmes
left
us
standing
at
the
door
and
walked
slowly
all
round
the
house,
across
the
front,
down
the
tradesmen’s
path,
and
so
round
by
the
garden
behind
into
the
stable
lane.
So
long
was
he
that
Mr.
Holder
and
I
went
into
the
dining-room
and
waited
by
the
fire
until
he
should
return.
We
were
sitting
there
in
silence
when
the
door
opened
and
a
young
lady
came
in.
She
was
rather
above
the
middle
height,
slim,
with
dark
hair
and
eyes,
which
seemed
the
darker
against
the
absolute
pallor
of
her
skin.
I
do
not
think
that
I
have
ever
seen
such
deadly
paleness
in
a
woman’s
face.
Her
lips,
too,
were
bloodless,
but
her
eyes
were
flushed
with
crying.
As
she
swept
silently
into
the
room
she
impressed
me
with
a
greater
sense
of
grief
than
the
banker
had
done
in
the
morning,
and
it
was
the
more
striking
in
her
as
she
was
evidently
a
woman
of
strong
character,
with
immense
capacity
for
self-restraint.
Disregarding
my
presence,
she
went
straight
to
her
uncle
and
passed
her
hand
over
his
head
with
a
sweet
womanly
caress.
“You
have
given
orders
that
Arthur
should
be
liberated,
have
you
not,
dad?”
she
asked.
“No,
no,
my
girl,
the
matter
must
be
probed
to
the
bottom.”
“But
I
am
so
sure
that
he
is
innocent.
You
know
what
woman’s
instincts
are.
I
know
that
he
has
done
no
harm
and
that
you
will
be
sorry
for
having
acted
so
harshly.”
“Why
is
he
silent,
then,
if
he
is
innocent?”
“Who
knows?
Perhaps
because
he
was
so
angry
that
you
should
suspect
him.”
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — C1 Inglés | Cuentana