“Fire!”
That evening Holmes again wore different clothes, black hat. But it was not just the clothes that were different. He changed his face, his hair – everything. He was a different man.
We walked together to Serpentine Avenue. Outside the house there were a lot of people who were smoking, laughing and talking. Holmes and I walked uo and down in front of the house.
‘You see,’ said Holmes to me, ‘I think she doesn’t want her new husband to see the photosgrath. But where is it? At her bank? No. Women like to keep important things themselves. I’m sure it’s in her house.’
‘But how will you know?’ I asked.
‘I won’t look. She’ll show me. She’ll have to.’
Just then a taxi arrived. One of the men in the street ran to open the door, then another man pushed him. Other men were also pushing and shouting, and a fight began. Irene Norton was in the middle of it, but Sherlock Holmas ran to help her. Then suddenly he fell to the ground, with blood running down his face. Irene Norton hurried to her front door, but she looked back.
‘How kind of him to help me! Is the poor man hurt?’ she called.
‘He’s dead,’ cried some voices.
‘No, he’s only hurt,’ cried others.
‘Bring him into the sitting-room,’ she said.
Some people carried Holmes into the house. I waited outside the window and watched. I saw how beautifut Irene Norton was. Then Holmes put up his hand, and I threw the smoke-stick into the room. Immediately the people in the street and in the house all began to shout “Fire!” very loudly. The house was full of smoke. I walked away, and ten minutes later Holmes came to meet me.
‘We done, Watson,’ he said.
‘Have you got the photosgraph?’ I asked.
‘I know where it is. She showed me,’ he answered.
‘But why did she show you?’
‘It’s easy.’ He said, and laughed. ‘You saw all those people in the street? I paid them to help us. It wasn’t a real fight and the blood wasn’t real. When people shout “Fire!”, a woman runs to the most important thing in her house, her baby, her gold, or … a photograph. Mrs Norton ran to find her photograph, which is in a cupboard in the sitting-room. I saw it. But I did not take it. Tomorrow we will go to her house with the King. We’ll go very early, before she gets up. The King himself can take the photograph from the cupboard. And then we’ll go.’
While Holmes was talking, we were walking home to Baker Street. When we arrived at my friend’s house, a young man hurried past us, and said: ‘Good night, Mr Sherlock Holmes.’
‘I’ve heard that voice before,’ said Holmes to me. He looked down the street. ‘But who was it?’
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
A Photograph
The next day we went to Irene Norton’s house, with the King. An old servant opened the door. ‘Mr Sherlock Holmes?’ she asked, and smiled.
‘Yes,’ said my friend. He looked very surprised.
‘Mrs Irene Norton and her husband left England this morning. They will never come back to this country.’
‘What?’ cried Holmes, his face white and angry.
‘And what about the photograph?’ cried the King.
We all hurried into the sitting-room. Holmes ran to the cupboard and opened it. Inside was a photograph, not of Irene Adler and the King, but of the beautiful Irene alone. There was also a letter for Sherlock Holmes. We all read it together.
My dear Mr Sherlock Holmes,
You did it very well. I thought that it was a real fire, and that you were just a kind old man. But after I opened the cupboard, I began to think. I knew about the famous Sherlock Holmes. I knew your address, and I knew that the King asked you to find the photograph. So I quickly dressed as a young man and followed you home to Baker Street. I wanted to find out if you really were Sherlock Holmes. I said ‘good night’ to you outside your door!
My husband and I have decided to leave England. Please tell the King that I shall not show the photograph to anybody. I love my husband and he loves me. And he is a better man than the King. But here is a different photograph. And the King can keep this photograph, if he likes.
“”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””
Irene Norton
‘What a woman!’ cried the King. ‘Why didn’t marry her! What a woman!’
‘A very, very clever woman,’ said Sherlock Holmes coldiy. ‘I am sorry, Your Majesty, that this business has not finished well.!
"ไฟไหม้"เย็นที่โฮลมส์อีกสวมหมวกสีดำ เสื้อแตกต่างกัน แต่ก็ไม่เพียงแค่เสื้อผ้าที่แตกต่างกัน เขาเปลี่ยนใบหน้าของเขา ผมของเขา – ทุกอย่าง เขามีคนอื่น เราเดินกันไปกลุ่มเซอร์เพนไทน์อเวนิว นอกบ้าน มีจำนวนมากของผู้ที่สูบบุหรี่ หัวเราะ และพูดคุย โฮลมส์และเดินอายุ และลงในด้านหน้าของบ้าน 'คุณดู กล่าวว่า โฮลมส์ ฉัน ' ฉันคิดว่า เธอไม่ต้องการสามีใหม่ไปดู photosgrath แต่ที่จะเป็น ธนาคารของเธอ ไม่ใช่ ผู้หญิงชอบให้สิ่งสำคัญตัวเอง ฉันแน่ใจว่าเป็นบ้านของเธอ ' 'แต่วิธีจะคุณทราบหรือไม่' ถาม ' ฉันจะไม่ดู เธอจะแสดง เธอต้องการ ' เพียงแล้ว แท็กซี่มาถึง หนึ่งคนในถนนวิ่งไปเปิดประตู แล้วดันคนอื่นเขา คนอื่น ๆ ยังได้ผลักดัน และตะโกน และเริ่มการต่อสู้ ไอรีน Norton เป็นกลางมัน แต่เชอร์ล็อก Holmas วิ่งไปช่วยเธอ แล้ว ทันใดนั้นเขาล้มไปพื้นดิน มีเลือดไหลลงใบหน้าของเขา Irene Norton รีบไปที่ประตูหน้าของเธอ แต่เธอมองกลับ' วิธีชนิดของเขาอยู่ดี เป็นคนไม่ดีทำร้าย? "เธอเรียก 'เขาจะตาย ร้องเสียงบาง 'ไม่มี เขาจะบาดเจ็บ ร้องเรียกผู้อื่น 'นำเขาเข้ามาในห้องนั่งเล่น เธอกล่าว Some people carried Holmes into the house. I waited outside the window and watched. I saw how beautifut Irene Norton was. Then Holmes put up his hand, and I threw the smoke-stick into the room. Immediately the people in the street and in the house all began to shout “Fire!” very loudly. The house was full of smoke. I walked away, and ten minutes later Holmes came to meet me. ‘We done, Watson,’ he said. ‘Have you got the photosgraph?’ I asked. ‘I know where it is. She showed me,’ he answered. ‘But why did she show you?’ ‘It’s easy.’ He said, and laughed. ‘You saw all those people in the street? I paid them to help us. It wasn’t a real fight and the blood wasn’t real. When people shout “Fire!”, a woman runs to the most important thing in her house, her baby, her gold, or … a photograph. Mrs Norton ran to find her photograph, which is in a cupboard in the sitting-room. I saw it. But I did not take it. Tomorrow we will go to her house with the King. We’ll go very early, before she gets up. The King himself can take the photograph from the cupboard. And then we’ll go.’ While Holmes was talking, we were walking home to Baker Street. When we arrived at my friend’s house, a young man hurried past us, and said: ‘Good night, Mr Sherlock Holmes.’ ‘I’ve heard that voice before,’ said Holmes to me. He looked down the street. ‘But who was it?’>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>A PhotographThe next day we went to Irene Norton’s house, with the King. An old servant opened the door. ‘Mr Sherlock Holmes?’ she asked, and smiled. ‘Yes,’ said my friend. He looked very surprised. ‘Mrs Irene Norton and her husband left England this morning. They will never come back to this country.’ ‘What?’ cried Holmes, his face white and angry. ‘And what about the photograph?’ cried the King. We all hurried into the sitting-room. Holmes ran to the cupboard and opened it. Inside was a photograph, not of Irene Adler and the King, but of the beautiful Irene alone. There was also a letter for Sherlock Holmes. We all read it together. My dear Mr Sherlock Holmes, You did it very well. I thought that it was a real fire, and that you were just a kind old man. But after I opened the cupboard, I began to think. I knew about the famous Sherlock Holmes. I knew your address, and I knew that the King asked you to find the photograph. So I quickly dressed as a young man and followed you home to Baker Street. I wanted to find out if you really were Sherlock Holmes. I said ‘good night’ to you outside your door! My husband and I have decided to leave England. Please tell the King that I shall not show the photograph to anybody. I love my husband and he loves me. And he is a better man than the King. But here is a different photograph. And the King can keep this photograph, if he likes.“”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””Irene Norton‘What a woman!’ cried the King. ‘Why didn’t marry her! What a woman!’ ‘A very, very clever woman,’ said Sherlock Holmes coldiy. ‘I am sorry, Your Majesty, that this business has not finished well.!
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