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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Red-Headed League
Capítulo 2, Página 24
“I
am
afraid
so.
I
had
brought
a
pack
of
cards
in
my
pocket,
and
I
thought
that,
as
we
were
a
partie
carrée,
you
might
have
your
rubber
after
all.
But
I
see
that
the
enemy’s
preparations
have
gone
so
far
that
we
cannot
risk
the
presence
of
a
light.
And,
first
of
all,
we
must
choose
our
positions.
These
are
daring
men,
and
though
we
shall
take
them
at
a
disadvantage,
they
may
do
us
some
harm
unless
we
are
careful.
I
shall
stand
behind
this
crate,
and
do
you
conceal
yourselves
behind
those.
Then,
when
I
flash
a
light
upon
them,
close
in
swiftly.
If
they
fire,
Watson,
have
no
compunction
about
shooting
them
down.”
I
placed
my
revolver,
cocked,
upon
the
top
of
the
wooden
case
behind
which
I
crouched.
Holmes
shot
the
slide
across
the
front
of
his
lantern
and
left
us
in
pitch
darkness—such
an
absolute
darkness
as
I
have
never
before
experienced.
The
smell
of
hot
metal
remained
to
assure
us
that
the
light
was
still
there,
ready
to
flash
out
at
a
moment’s
notice.
To
me,
with
my
nerves
worked
up
to
a
pitch
of
expectancy,
there
was
something
depressing
and
subduing
in
the
sudden
gloom,
and
in
the
cold
dank
air
of
the
vault.
“They
have
but
one
retreat,”
whispered
Holmes.
“That
is
back
through
the
house
into
Saxe-Coburg
Square.
I
hope
that
you
have
done
what
I
asked
you,
Jones?”
“I
have
an
inspector
and
two
officers
waiting
at
the
front
door.”
“Then
we
have
stopped
all
the
holes.
And
now
we
must
be
silent
and
wait.”
What
a
time
it
seemed!
From
comparing
notes
afterwards
it
was
but
an
hour
and
a
quarter,
yet
it
appeared
to
me
that
the
night
must
have
almost
gone,
and
the
dawn
be
breaking
above
us.
My
limbs
were
weary
and
stiff,
for
I
feared
to
change
my
position;
yet
my
nerves
were
worked
up
to
the
highest
pitch
of
tension,
and
my
hearing
was
so
acute
that
I
could
not
only
hear
the
gentle
breathing
of
my
companions,
but
I
could
distinguish
the
deeper,
heavier
in-breath
of
the
bulky
Jones
from
the
thin,
sighing
note
of
the
bank
director.
From
my
position
I
could
look
over
the
case
in
the
direction
of
the
floor.
Suddenly
my
eyes
caught
the
glint
of
a
light.
At
first
it
was
but
a
lurid
spark
upon
the
stone
pavement.
Then
it
lengthened
out
until
it
became
a
yellow
line,
and
then,
without
any
warning
or
sound,
a
gash
seemed
to
open
and
a
hand
appeared,
a
white,
almost
womanly
hand,
which
felt
about
in
the
centre
of
the
little
area
of
light.
For
a
minute
or
more
the
hand,
with
its
writhing
fingers,
protruded
out
of
the
floor.
Then
it
was
withdrawn
as
suddenly
as
it
appeared,
and
all
was
dark
again
save
the
single
lurid
spark
which
marked
a
chink
between
the
stones.
Its
disappearance,
however,
was
but
momentary.
With
a
rending,
tearing
sound,
one
of
the
broad,
white
stones
turned
over
upon
its
side
and
left
a
square,
gaping
hole,
through
which
streamed
the
light
of
a
lantern.
Over
the
edge
there
peeped
a
clean-cut,
boyish
face,
which
looked
keenly
about
it,
and
then,
with
a
hand
on
either
side
of
the
aperture,
drew
itself
shoulder-high
and
waist-high,
until
one
knee
rested
upon
the
edge.
In
another
instant
he
stood
at
the
side
of
the
hole
and
was
hauling
after
him
a
companion,
lithe
and
small
like
himself,
with
a
pale
face
and
a
shock
of
very
red
hair.
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — C1 Inglés | Cuentana