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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Adventure of the Speckled Band
Capítulo 8, Página 31
With
a
grave
face
he
lit
the
lamp
and
led
the
way
down
the
corridor.
Twice
he
struck
at
the
chamber
door
without
any
reply
from
within.
Then
he
turned
the
handle
and
entered,
I
at
his
heels,
with
the
cocked
pistol
in
my
hand.
It
was
a
singular
sight
which
met
our
eyes.
On
the
table
stood
a
dark-lantern
with
the
shutter
half
open,
throwing
a
brilliant
beam
of
light
upon
the
iron
safe,
the
door
of
which
was
ajar.
Beside
this
table,
on
the
wooden
chair,
sat
Dr.
Grimesby
Roylott
clad
in
a
long
grey
dressing-gown,
his
bare
ankles
protruding
beneath,
and
his
feet
thrust
into
red
heelless
Turkish
slippers.
Across
his
lap
lay
the
short
stock
with
the
long
lash
which
we
had
noticed
during
the
day.
His
chin
was
cocked
upward
and
his
eyes
were
fixed
in
a
dreadful,
rigid
stare
at
the
corner
of
the
ceiling.
Round
his
brow
he
had
a
peculiar
yellow
band,
with
brownish
speckles,
which
seemed
to
be
bound
tightly
round
his
head.
As
we
entered
he
made
neither
sound
nor
motion.
“The
band!
the
speckled
band!”
whispered
Holmes.
I
took
a
step
forward.
In
an
instant
his
strange
headgear
began
to
move,
and
there
reared
itself
from
among
his
hair
the
squat
diamond-shaped
head
and
puffed
neck
of
a
loathsome
serpent.
“It
is
a
swamp
adder!”
cried
Holmes;
“the
deadliest
snake
in
India.
He
has
died
within
ten
seconds
of
being
bitten.
Violence
does,
in
truth,
recoil
upon
the
violent,
and
the
schemer
falls
into
the
pit
which
he
digs
for
another.
Let
us
thrust
this
creature
back
into
its
den,
and
we
can
then
remove
Miss
Stoner
to
some
place
of
shelter
and
let
the
county
police
know
what
has
happened.”
As
he
spoke
he
drew
the
dog-whip
swiftly
from
the
dead
man’s
lap,
and
throwing
the
noose
round
the
reptile’s
neck
he
drew
it
from
its
horrid
perch
and,
carrying
it
at
arm’s
length,
threw
it
into
the
iron
safe,
which
he
closed
upon
it.
Such
are
the
true
facts
of
the
death
of
Dr.
Grimesby
Roylott,
of
Stoke
Moran.
It
is
not
necessary
that
I
should
prolong
a
narrative
which
has
already
run
to
too
great
a
length
by
telling
how
we
broke
the
sad
news
to
the
terrified
girl,
how
we
conveyed
her
by
the
morning
train
to
the
care
of
her
good
aunt
at
Harrow,
of
how
the
slow
process
of
official
inquiry
came
to
the
conclusion
that
the
doctor
met
his
fate
while
indiscreetly
playing
with
a
dangerous
pet.
The
little
which
I
had
yet
to
learn
of
the
case
was
told
me
by
Sherlock
Holmes
as
we
travelled
back
next
day.
“I
had,”
said
he,
“come
to
an
entirely
erroneous
conclusion
which
shows,
my
dear
Watson,
how
dangerous
it
always
is
to
reason
from
insufficient
data.
The
presence
of
the
gipsies,
and
the
use
of
the
word
‘band,’
which
was
used
by
the
poor
girl,
no
doubt,
to
explain
the
appearance
which
she
had
caught
a
hurried
glimpse
of
by
the
light
of
her
match,
were
sufficient
to
put
me
upon
an
entirely
wrong
scent.
I
can
only
claim
the
merit
that
I
instantly
reconsidered
my
position
when,
however,
it
became
clear
to
me
that
whatever
danger
threatened
an
occupant
of
the
room
could
not
come
either
from
the
window
or
the
door.
My
attention
was
speedily
drawn,
as
I
have
already
remarked
to
you,
to
this
ventilator,
and
to
the
bell-rope
which
hung
down
to
the
bed.
The
discovery
that
this
was
a
dummy,
and
that
the
bed
was
clamped
to
the
floor,
instantly
gave
rise
to
the
suspicion
that
the
rope
was
there
as
a
bridge
for
something
passing
through
the
hole
and
coming
to
the
bed.
The
idea
of
a
snake
instantly
occurred
to
me,
and
when
I
coupled
it
with
my
knowledge
that
the
doctor
was
furnished
with
a
supply
of
creatures
from
India,
I
felt
that
I
was
probably
on
the
right
track.
The
idea
of
using
a
form
of
poison
which
could
not
possibly
be
discovered
by
any
chemical
test
was
just
such
a
one
as
would
occur
to
a
clever
and
ruthless
man
who
had
had
an
Eastern
training.
The
rapidity
with
which
such
a
poison
would
take
effect
would
also,
from
his
point
of
view,
be
an
advantage.
It
would
be
a
sharp-eyed
coroner,
indeed,
who
could
distinguish
the
two
little
dark
punctures
which
would
show
where
the
poison
fangs
had
done
their
work.
Then
I
thought
of
the
whistle.
Of
course
he
must
recall
the
snake
before
the
morning
light
revealed
it
to
the
victim.
He
had
trained
it,
probably
by
the
use
of
the
milk
which
we
saw,
to
return
to
him
when
summoned.
He
would
put
it
through
this
ventilator
at
the
hour
that
he
thought
best,
with
the
certainty
that
it
would
crawl
down
the
rope
and
land
on
the
bed.
It
might
or
might
not
bite
the
occupant,
perhaps
she
might
escape
every
night
for
a
week,
but
sooner
or
later
she
must
fall
a
victim.”
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — C1 Inglés | Cuentana