The Three Students

Arthur Conan Doyle

It was in the year '95 that a combination of events, into which I need not enter, caused Mr. Sherlock Holmes and myself to spend some weeks in one of our great University towns, and it was during this time that the small but instructive adventure which I am about to relate befell us. It will be obvious that any details which would help the reader to exactly identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive. So painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion the incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavour in my statement to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place, or give a clue as to the people concerned.

We were residing at the time in furnished lodgings close to a library where Sherlock Holmes was pursuing some laborious researches in early English charters—researches which led to results so striking that they may be the subject of one of my future narratives. Here it was that one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke's. Mr. Soames was a tall, spare man, of a nervous and excitable temperament. I had always known him to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very unusual had occurred.

“I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke's, and really, but for the happy chance of your being in the town, I should have been at a loss what to do.”

“I am very busy just now, and I desire no distractions,” my friend answered. “I should much prefer that you called in the aid of the police.”

“No, no, my dear sir; such a course is utterly impossible. When once the law is evoked it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid scandal. Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world who can help me. I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to do what you can.”

My friend's temper had not improved since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrap-books, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man. He shrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence, while our visitor in hurried words and with much excitable gesticulation poured forth his story.

“I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that to-morrow is the first day of the examination for the Fortescue Scholarship. I am one of the examiners. My subject is Greek, and the first of the papers consists of a large passage of Greek translation which the candidate has not seen. This passage is printed on the examination paper, and it would naturally be an immense advantage if the candidate could prepare it in advance. For this reason great care is taken to keep the paper secret.

“To-day about three o'clock the proofs of this paper arrived from the printers. The exercise consists of half a chapter of Thucydides. I had to read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At four-thirty my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised to take tea in a friend's rooms, so I left the proof upon my desk. I was absent rather more than an hour.

“You are aware, Mr. Holmes, that our college doors are double—a green baize one within and a heavy oak one without. As I approached my outer door I was amazed to see a key in it. For an instant I imagined that I had left my own there, but on feeling in my pocket I found that it was all right. The only duplicate which existed, so far as I knew, was that which belonged to my servant, Bannister, a man who has looked after my room for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. I found that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my room to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key in the door when he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it. His forgetfulness about the key would have mattered little upon any other occasion, but on this one day it has produced the most deplorable consequences.

“The moment I looked at my table I was aware that someone had rummaged among my papers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them all together. Now, I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one was on the side table near the window, and the third was where I had left it.”

Holmes stirred for the first time.

“The first page on the floor, the second in the window, the third where you left it,” said he.

“Exactly, Mr. Holmes. You amaze me. How could you possibly know that?”

“Pray continue your very interesting statement.”

“For an instant I imagined that Bannister had taken the unpardonable liberty of examining my papers. He denied it, however, with the utmost earnestness, and I am convinced that he was speaking the truth. The alternative was that someone passing had observed the key in the door, had known that I was out, and had entered to look at the papers. A large sum of money is at stake, for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and an unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an advantage over his fellows.

“Bannister was very much upset by the incident. He had nearly fainted when we found that the papers had undoubtedly been tampered with. I gave him a little brandy and left him collapsed in a chair while I made a most careful examination of the room. I soon saw that the intruder had left other traces of his presence besides the rumpled papers. On the table in the window were several shreds from a pencil which had been sharpened. A broken tip of lead was lying there also. Evidently the rascal had copied the paper in a great hurry, had broken his pencil, and had been compelled to put a fresh point to it.”

“Excellent!” said Holmes, who was recovering his good-humour as his attention became more engrossed by the case. “Fortune has been your friend.”

“This was not all. I have a new writing-table with a fine surface of red leather. I am prepared to swear, and so is Bannister, that it was smooth and unstained. Now I found a clean cut in it about three inches long—not a mere scratch, but a positive cut. Not only this, but on the table I found a small ball of black dough, or clay, with specks of something which looks like sawdust in it. I am convinced that these marks were left by the man who rifled the papers. There were no footmarks and no other evidence as to his identity. I was at my wits' ends, when suddenly the happy thought occurred to me that you were in the town, and I came straight round to put the matter into your hands. Do help me, Mr. Holmes! You see my dilemma. Either I must find the man or else the examination must be postponed until fresh papers are prepared, and since this cannot be done without explanation there will ensue a hideous scandal, which will throw a cloud not only on the college, but on the University. Above all things I desire to settle the matter quietly and discreetly.”

“I shall be happy to look into it and to give you such advice as I can,” said Holmes, rising and putting on his overcoat. “The case is not entirely devoid of interest. Had anyone visited you in your room after the papers came to you?”

“Yes; young Daulat Ras, an Indian student who lives on the same stair, came in to ask me some particulars about the examination.”

“For which he was entered?”

“Yes.”

“And the papers were on your table?”

“To the best of my belief they were rolled up.”

“But might be recognised as proofs?”

“Possibly.”

“No one else in your room?”

“No.”

“Did anyone know that these proofs would be there?”

“No one save the printer.”

“Did this man Bannister know?”

“No, certainly not. No one knew.”

“Where is Bannister now?”

“He was very ill, poor fellow. I left him collapsed in the chair. I was in such a hurry to come to you.”

“You left your door open?”

“I locked up the papers first.”

“Then it amounts to this, Mr. Soames, that unless the Indian student recognised the roll as being proofs, the man who tampered with them came upon them accidentally without knowing that they were there.”

“So it seems to me.”

Holmes gave an enigmatic smile.

“Well,” said he, “let us go round. Not one of your cases, Watson—mental, not physical. All right; come if you want to. Now, Mr. Soames—at your disposal!”

The sitting-room of our client opened by a long, low, latticed window on to the ancient lichen-tinted court of the old college. A Gothic arched door led to a worn stone staircase. On the ground floor was the tutor's room. Above were three students, one on each story. It was already twilight when we reached the scene of our problem. Holmes halted and looked earnestly at the window. Then he approached it, and, standing on tiptoe with his neck craned, he looked into the room.

“He must have entered through the door. There is no opening except the one pane,” said our learned guide.

“Dear me!” said Holmes, and he smiled in a singular way as he glanced at our companion. “Well, if there is nothing to be learned here we had best go inside.”

The lecturer unlocked the outer door and ushered us into his room. We stood at the entrance while Holmes made an examination of the carpet.

“I am afraid there are no signs here,” said he. “One could hardly hope for any upon so dry a day. Your servant seems to have quite recovered. You left him in a chair, you say; which chair?”

“By the window there.”

“I see. Near this little table. You can come in now. I have finished with the carpet. Let us take the little table first. Of course, what has happened is very clear. The man entered and took the papers, sheet by sheet, from the central table. He carried them over to the window table, because from there he could see if you came across the courtyard, and so could effect an escape.”

“As a matter of fact he could not,” said Soames, “for I entered by the side door.”

“Ah, that's good! Well, anyhow, that was in his mind. Let me see the three strips. No finger impressions—no! Well, he carried over this one first and he copied it. How long would it take him to do that, using every possible contraction? A quarter of an hour, not less. Then he tossed it down and seized the next. He was in the midst of that when your return caused him to make a very hurried retreat—very hurried, since he had not time to replace the papers which would tell you that he had been there. You were not aware of any hurrying feet on the stair as you entered the outer door?”

“No, I can't say I was.”

“Well, he wrote so furiously that he broke his pencil, and had, as you observe, to sharpen it again. This is of interest, Watson. The pencil was not an ordinary one. It was above the usual size, with a soft lead; the outer colour was dark blue, the maker's name was printed in silver lettering, and the piece remaining is only about an inch and a half long. Look for such a pencil, Mr. Soames, and you have got your man. When I add that he possesses a large and very blunt knife, you have an additional aid.”

Mr. Soames was somewhat overwhelmed by this flood of information. “I can follow the other points,” said he, “but really, in this matter of the length—”

Holmes held out a small chip with the letters NN and a space of clear wood after them.

“You see?”

“No, I fear that even now—”

“Watson, I have always done you an injustice. There are others. What could this NN be? It is at the end of a word. You are aware that Johann Faber is the most common maker's name. Is it not clear that there is just as much of the pencil left as usually follows the Johann?” He held the small table sideways to the electric light. “I was hoping that if the paper on which he wrote was thin some trace of it might come through upon this polished surface. No, I see nothing. I don't think there is anything more to be learned here. Now for the central table. This small pellet is, I presume, the black, doughy mass you spoke of. Roughly pyramidal in shape and hollowed out, I perceive. As you say, there appear to be grains of sawdust in it. Dear me, this is very interesting. And the cut—a positive tear, I see. It began with a thin scratch and ended in a jagged hole. I am much indebted to you for directing my attention to this case, Mr. Soames. Where does that door lead to?”

“To my bedroom.”

“Have you been in it since your adventure?”

“No; I came straight away for you.”

“I should like to have a glance round. What a charming, old-fashioned room! Perhaps you will kindly wait a minute until I have examined the floor. No, I see nothing. What about this curtain? You hang your clothes behind it. If anyone were forced to conceal himself in this room he must do it there, since the bed is too low and the wardrobe too shallow. No one there, I suppose?”

As Holmes drew the curtain I was aware, from some little rigidity and alertness of his attitude, that he was prepared for an emergency. As a matter of fact the drawn curtain disclosed nothing but three or four suits of clothes hanging from a line of pegs. Holmes turned away and stooped suddenly to the floor.

“Halloa! What's this?” said he.

It was a small pyramid of black, putty-like stuff, exactly like the one upon the table of the study. Holmes held it out on his open palm in the glare of the electric light.

“Your visitor seems to have left traces in your bedroom as well as in your sitting-room, Mr. Soames.”

“What could he have wanted there?”

“I think it is clear enough. You came back by an unexpected way, and so he had no warning until you were at the very door. What could he do? He caught up everything which would betray him and he rushed into your bedroom to conceal himself.”

“Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, do you mean to tell me that all the time I was talking to Bannister in this room we had the man prisoner if we had only known it?”

“So I read it.”

“Surely there is another alternative, Mr. Holmes. I don't know whether you observed my bedroom window?”

“Lattice-paned, lead framework, three separate windows, one swinging on hinge and large enough to admit a man.”

“Exactly. And it looks out on an angle of the courtyard so as to be partly invisible. The man might have effected his entrance there, left traces as he passed through the bedroom, and, finally, finding the door open have escaped that way.”

Holmes shook his head impatiently.

“Let us be practical,” said he. “I understand you to say that there are three students who use this stair and are in the habit of passing your door?”

“Yes, there are.”

“And they are all in for this examination?”

“Yes.”

“Have you any reason to suspect any one of them more than the others?”

Soames hesitated.

“It is a very delicate question,” said he. “One hardly likes to throw suspicion where there are no proofs.”

“Let us hear the suspicions. I will look after the proofs.“

“I will tell you, then, in a few words the character of the three men who inhabit these rooms. The lower of the three is Gilchrist, a fine scholar and athlete; plays in the Rugby team and the cricket team for the college, and got his Blue for the hurdles and the long jump. He is a fine, manly fellow. His father was the notorious Sir Jabez Gilchrist, who ruined himself on the turf. My scholar has been left very poor, but he is hard-working and industrious. He will do well.

“The second floor is inhabited by Daulat Ras, the Indian. He is a quiet, inscrutable fellow, as most of those Indians are. He is well up in his work, though his Greek is his weak subject. He is steady and methodical.

“The top floor belongs to Miles McLaren. He is a brilliant fellow when he chooses to work—one of the brightest intellects of the University, but he is wayward, dissipated, and unprincipled. He was nearly expelled over a card scandal in his first year. He has been idling all this term, and he must look forward with dread to the examination.”

“Then it is he whom you suspect?”

“I dare not go so far as that. But of the three he is perhaps the least unlikely.”

“Exactly. Now, Mr. Soames, let us have a look at your servant, Bannister.”

He was a little, white-faced, clean-shaven, grizzly-haired fellow of fifty. He was still suffering from this sudden disturbance of the quiet routine of his life. His plump face was twitching with his nervousness, and his fingers could not keep still.

“We are investigating this unhappy business, Bannister,” said his master.

“Yes, sir.”

“I understand,” said Holmes, “that you left your key in the door?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was it not very extraordinary that you should do this on the very day when there were these papers inside?”

“It was most unfortunate, sir. But I have occasionally done the same thing at other times.”

“When did you enter the room?”

“It was about half-past four. That is Mr. Soames's tea time.”

“How long did you stay?”

“When I saw that he was absent I withdrew at once.”

“Did you look at these papers on the table?”

“No, sir; certainly not.”

“How came you to leave the key in the door?”

“I had the tea-tray in my hand. I thought I would come back for the key. Then I forgot.”

“Has the outer door a spring lock?”

“No, sir.”

“Then it was open all the time?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anyone in the room could get out?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When Mr. Soames returned and called for you, you were very much disturbed?”

“Yes, sir. Such a thing has never happened during the many years that I have been here. I nearly fainted, sir.”

“So I understand. Where were you when you began to feel bad?”

“Where was I, sir? Why, here, near the door.”

“That is singular, because you sat down in that chair over yonder near the corner. Why did you pass these other chairs?”

“I don't know, sir. It didn't matter to me where I sat.”

“I really don't think he knew much about it, Mr. Holmes. He was looking very bad—quite ghastly.”

“You stayed here when your master left?”

“Only for a minute or so. Then I locked the door and went to my room.”

“Whom do you suspect?”

“Oh, I would not venture to say, sir. I don't believe there is any gentleman in this University who is capable of profiting by such an action. No, sir, I'll not believe it.”

“Thank you; that will do,” said Holmes. “Oh, one more word. You have not mentioned to any of the three gentlemen whom you attend that anything is amiss?”

“No, sir; not a word.”

“You haven't seen any of them?”

“No, sir.”

“Very good. Now, Mr. Soames, we will take a walk in the quadrangle, if you please.”

Three yellow squares of light shone above us in the gathering gloom.

“Your three birds are all in their nests,” said Holmes, looking up. “Halloa! What's that? One of them seems restless enough.”

It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon his blind. He was pacing swiftly up and down his room.

“I should like to have a peep at each of them,” said Holmes. “Is it possible?”

“No difficulty in the world,” Soames answered. “This set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual for visitors to go over them. Come along, and I will personally conduct you.”

“No names, please!” said Holmes, as we knocked at Gilchrist's door. A tall, flaxen-haired, slim young fellow opened it, and made us welcome when he understood our errand. There were some really curious pieces of mediaeval domestic architecture within. Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on drawing it on his note-book, broke his pencil, had to borrow one from our host, and finally borrowed a knife to sharpen his own. The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the Indian—a silent, little, hook-nosed fellow, who eyed us askance and was obviously glad when Holmes's architectural studies had come to an end. I could not see that in either case Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was searching. Only at the third did our visit prove abortive. The outer door would not open to our knock, and nothing more substantial than a torrent of bad language came from behind it. “I don't care who you are. You can go to blazes!” roared the angry voice. “To-morrow's the exam, and I won't be drawn by anyone.”

“A rude fellow,” said our guide, flushing with anger as we withdrew down the stair. “Of course, he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, but none the less his conduct was very uncourteous, and, indeed, under the circumstances rather suspicious.”

Holmes's response was a curious one.

“Can you tell me his exact height?” he asked.

“Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. He is taller than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose five foot six would be about it.”

“That is very important,” said Holmes. “And now, Mr. Soames, I wish you good-night.”

Our guide cried aloud in his astonishment and dismay. “Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, you are surely not going to leave me in this abrupt fashion! You don't seem to realize the position. To-morrow is the examination. I must take some definite action to-night. I cannot allow the examination to be held if one of the papers has been tampered with. The situation must be faced.”

“You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early to-morrow morning and chat the matter over. It is possible that I may be in a position then to indicate some course of action. Meanwhile you change nothing—nothing at all.”

“Very good, Mr. Holmes.”

“You can be perfectly easy in your mind. We shall certainly find some way out of your difficulties. I will take the black clay with me, also the pencil cuttings. Good-bye.”

When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle we again looked up at the windows. The Indian still paced his room. The others were invisible.

“Well, Watson, what do you think of it?” Holmes asked, as we came out into the main street. “Quite a little parlour game—sort of three-card trick, is it not? There are your three men. It must be one of them. You take your choice. Which is yours?”

“The foul-mouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the worst record. And yet that Indian was a sly fellow also. Why should he be pacing his room all the time?”

“There is nothing in that. Many men do it when they are trying to learn anything by heart.”

“He looked at us in a queer way.”

“So would you if a flock of strangers came in on you when you were preparing for an examination next day, and every moment was of value. No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives—all was satisfactory. But that fellow does puzzle me.”

“Who?”

“Why, Bannister, the servant. What's his game in the matter?”

“He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man.”

“So he did me. That's the puzzling part. Why should a perfectly honest man—well, well, here's a large stationer's. We shall begin our researches here.”

There were only four stationers of any consequence in the town, and at each Holmes produced his pencil chips and bid high for a duplicate. All were agreed that one could be ordered, but that it was not a usual size of pencil and that it was seldom kept in stock. My friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure, but shrugged his shoulders in half-humorous resignation.

“No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue, has run to nothing. But, indeed, I have little doubt that we can build up a sufficient case without it. By Jove! my dear fellow, it is nearly nine, and the landlady babbled of green peas at seven-thirty. What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get notice to quit and that I shall share your downfall—not, however, before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless servant, and the three enterprising students.”

Holmes made no further allusion to the matter that day, though he sat lost in thought for a long time after our belated dinner. At eight in the morning he came into my room just as I finished my toilet.

“Well, Watson,” said he, “it is time we went down to St. Luke's. Can you do without breakfast?”

“Certainly.”

“Soames will be in a dreadful fidget until we are able to tell him something positive.”

“Have you anything positive to tell him?”

“I think so.”

“You have formed a conclusion?”

“Yes, my dear Watson; I have solved the mystery.”

“But what fresh evidence could you have got?”

“Aha! It is not for nothing that I have turned myself out of bed at the untimely hour of six. I have put in two hours' hard work and covered at least five miles, with something to show for it. Look at that!”

He held out his hand. On the palm were three little pyramids of black, doughy clay.

“Why, Holmes, you had only two yesterday!”

“And one more this morning. It is a fair argument that wherever No. 3 came from is also the source of Nos. 1 and 2. Eh, Watson? Well, come along and put friend Soames out of his pain.”

The unfortunate tutor was certainly in a state of pitiable agitation when we found him in his chambers. In a few hours the examination would commence, and he was still in the dilemma between making the facts public and allowing the culprit to compete for the valuable scholarship. He could hardly stand still, so great was his mental agitation, and he ran towards Holmes with two eager hands outstretched.

“Thank Heaven that you have come! I feared that you had given it up in despair. What am I to do? Shall the examination proceed?”

“Yes; let it proceed by all means.”

“But this rascal—?”

“He shall not compete.”

“You know him?”

“I think so. If this matter is not to become public we must give ourselves certain powers, and resolve ourselves into a small private court-martial. You there, if you please, Soames! Watson, you here! I'll take the arm-chair in the middle. I think that we are now sufficiently imposing to strike terror into a guilty breast. Kindly ring the bell!”

Bannister entered, and shrunk back in evident surprise and fear at our judicial appearance.

“You will kindly close the door,” said Holmes. “Now, Bannister, will you please tell us the truth about yesterday's incident?”

The man turned white to the roots of his hair.

“I have told you everything, sir.”

“Nothing to add?”

“Nothing at all, sir.”

“Well, then, I must make some suggestions to you. When you sat down on that chair yesterday, did you do so in order to conceal some object which would have shown who had been in the room?”

Bannister's face was ghastly.

“No, sir; certainly not.”

“It is only a suggestion,” said Holmes, suavely. “I frankly admit that I am unable to prove it. But it seems probable enough, since the moment that Mr. Soames's back was turned you released the man who was hiding in that bedroom.”

Bannister licked his dry lips.

“There was no man, sir.”

“Ah, that's a pity, Bannister. Up to now you may have spoken the truth, but now I know that you have lied.”

The man's face set in sullen defiance.

“There was no man, sir.”

“Come, come, Bannister!”

“No, sir; there was no one.”

“In that case you can give us no further information. Would you please remain in the room? Stand over there near the bedroom door. Now, Soames, I am going to ask you to have the great kindness to go up to the room of young Gilchrist, and to ask him to step down into yours.”

An instant later the tutor returned, bringing with him the student. He was a fine figure of a man, tall, lithe, and agile, with a springy step and a pleasant, open face. His troubled blue eyes glanced at each of us, and finally rested with an expression of blank dismay upon Bannister in the farther corner.

“Just close the door,” said Holmes. “Now, Mr. Gilchrist, we are all quite alone here, and no one need ever know one word of what passes between us. We can be perfectly frank with each other. We want to know, Mr. Gilchrist, how you, an honourable man, ever came to commit such an action as that of yesterday?”

The unfortunate young man staggered back and cast a look full of horror and reproach at Bannister.

“No, no, Mr. Gilchrist, sir; I never said a word—never one word!” cried the servant.

“No, but you have now,” said Holmes. “Now, sir, you must see that after Bannister's words your position is hopeless, and that your only chance lies in a frank confession.”

For a moment Gilchrist, with upraised hand, tried to control his writhing features. The next he had thrown himself on his knees beside the table and, burying his face in his hands, he had burst into a storm of passionate sobbing.

“Come, come,” said Holmes, kindly; “it is human to err, and at least no one can accuse you of being a callous criminal. Perhaps it would be easier for you if I were to tell Mr. Soames what occurred, and you can check me where I am wrong. Shall I do so? Well, well, don't trouble to answer. Listen, and see that I do you no injustice.

“From the moment, Mr. Soames, that you said to me that no one, not even Bannister, could have told that the papers were in your room, the case began to take a definite shape in my mind. The printer one could, of course, dismiss. He could examine the papers in his own office. The Indian I also thought nothing of. If the proofs were in a roll he could not possibly know what they were. On the other hand, it seemed an unthinkable coincidence that a man should dare to enter the room, and that by chance on that very day the papers were on the table. I dismissed that. The man who entered knew that the papers were there. How did he know?

“When I approached your room I examined the window. You amused me by supposing that I was contemplating the possibility of someone having in broad daylight, under the eyes of all these opposite rooms, forced himself through it. Such an idea was absurd. I was measuring how tall a man would need to be in order to see as he passed what papers were on the central table. I am six feet high, and I could do it with an effort. No one less than that would have a chance. Already you see I had reason to think that if one of your three students was a man of unusual height he was the most worth watching of the three.

“I entered and I took you into my confidence as to the suggestions of the side table. Of the centre table I could make nothing, until in your description of Gilchrist you mentioned that he was a long-distance jumper. Then the whole thing came to me in an instant, and I only needed certain corroborative proofs, which I speedily obtained.

“What happened was this. This young fellow had employed his afternoon at the athletic grounds, where he had been practising the jump. He returned carrying his jumping shoes, which are provided, as you are aware, with several sharp spikes. As he passed your window he saw, by means of his great height, these proofs upon your table, and conjectured what they were. No harm would have been done had it not been that as he passed your door he perceived the key which had been left by the carelessness of your servant. A sudden impulse came over him to enter and see if they were indeed the proofs. It was not a dangerous exploit, for he could always pretend that he had simply looked in to ask a question.

“Well, when he saw that they were indeed the proofs, it was then that he yielded to temptation. He put his shoes on the table. What was it you put on that chair near the window?”

“Gloves,” said the young man.

Holmes looked triumphantly at Bannister. “He put his gloves on the chair, and he took the proofs, sheet by sheet, to copy them. He thought the tutor must return by the main gate, and that he would see him. As we know, he came back by the side gate. Suddenly he heard him at the very door. There was no possible escape. He forgot his gloves, but he caught up his shoes and darted into the bedroom. You observe that the scratch on that table is slight at one side, but deepens in the direction of the bedroom door. That in itself is enough to show us that the shoe had been drawn in that direction and that the culprit had taken refuge there. The earth round the spike had been left on the table, and a second sample was loosened and fell in the bedroom. I may add that I walked out to the athletic grounds this morning, saw that tenacious black clay is used in the jumping-pit, and carried away a specimen of it, together with some of the fine tan or sawdust which is strewn over it to prevent the athlete from slipping. Have I told the truth, Mr. Gilchrist?”

The student had drawn himself erect.

“Yes, sir, it is true,” said he.

“Good heavens, have you nothing to add?” cried Soames.

“Yes, sir, I have, but the shock of this disgraceful exposure has bewildered me. I have a letter here, Mr. Soames, which I wrote to you early this morning in the middle of a restless night. It was before I knew that my sin had found me out. Here it is, sir. You will see that I have said, ‘I have determined not to go in for the examination. I have been offered a commission in the Rhodesian Police, and I am going out to South Africa at once.’”

“I am indeed pleased to hear that you did not intend to profit by your unfair advantage,” said Soames. “But why did you change your purpose?”

Gilchrist pointed to Bannister.

“There is the man who set me in the right path,” said he.

“Come now, Bannister,” said Holmes. “It will be clear to you from what I have said that only you could have let this young man out, since you were left in the room, and must have locked the door when you went out. As to his escaping by that window, it was incredible. Can you not clear up the last point in this mystery, and tell us the reasons for your action?”

“It was simple enough, sir, if you only had known; but with all your cleverness it was impossible that you could know. Time was, sir, when I was butler to old Sir Jabez Gilchrist, this young gentleman's father. When he was ruined I came to the college as servant, but I never forgot my old employer because he was down in the world. I watched his son all I could for the sake of the old days. Well, sir, when I came into this room yesterday when the alarm was given, the very first thing I saw was Mr. Gilchrist's tan gloves a-lying in that chair. I knew those gloves well, and I understood their message. If Mr. Soames saw them the game was up. I flopped down into that chair, and nothing would budge me until Mr. Soames he went for you. Then out came my poor young master, whom I had dandled on my knee, and confessed it all to me. Wasn't it natural, sir, that I should save him, and wasn't it natural also that I should try to speak to him as his dead father would have done, and make him understand that he could not profit by such a deed? Could you blame me, sir?”

“No, indeed,” said Holmes, heartily, springing to his feet. “Well, Soames, I think we have cleared your little problem up, and our breakfast awaits us at home. Come, Watson! As to you, sir, I trust that a bright future awaits you in Rhodesia. For once you have fallen low. Let us see in the future how high you can rise.”

三个大学生

    一八九五年中有些互相关联的事情，使福尔摩斯和我在我们著名的大学城住了几周。我要记述的事正是在这时发生的。事情虽然不大，但是富有教育意义。为了使那种令人痛心的流言自行消灭，最好是不让读者分辨出事情发生在哪个学院，以及发生在谁的身上，因此我在叙述时竭力避免使用那些容易引仆人们联想和猜测的词句，只是谨慎地追述一下事情本身，以便用它来说明我的朋友的一些杰出的气质。

    那个时候，我们住在一栋离图书馆很近带家具出租的寓所里，因为福尔摩斯正在对英国早期宪章进行紧张的研究。他的研究是很有成效的，也许会成为我将来记述的题目。一天晚上，我们的熟人希尔顿·索姆兹先生来访，他是圣路加学院的导师和讲师。索姆兹先生身材较高，言语不多，但是容易紧张和激动。我知道他一向不够安静，此时他显得格外激动，简直无法控制自己，显然，是发生了什么不寻常的事情。

    “福尔摩斯先生，我相信您会为我牺牲一两个小时的宝贵时间。在圣路加学院刚刚发生了一件不幸的事情，要不是恰巧您在城内，我简直不知道该怎么办。”

    我的朋友答道：“我现在很忙，不希望有什么事使我分心。您最好请警察去帮助您。”

    “不，亲爱的先生，这样的事不能请警察，因为一旦交到官方，便不能撤回。这是涉及到学院名声的事情，无论如何不能传扬出去。您是那样有能力，而且说话谨慎，所以只有您能够帮我的忙。福尔摩斯先生，我请求您尽力而为。”

    自从离开贝克街的惬意环境以来，我的朋友脾气有些不太好。离开了他的报纸剪贴簿、化学药品以及邋遢的住室，他便感到极不舒服。他无可奈何地耸了耸肩，我们的客人便急忙把事情倾吐出来，他谈话的时候心情很激动。

    “福尔摩斯先生，你知道明天是福兹求奖学金考试的第一天。我是主考人之一。我主考的科目是希腊文。试卷的第一题是一大段学生没有读过的希腊文，要求译成英文。这一段已经印在试卷上，当然，要是学生事先准备了这段希腊文，会占很大的便宜。所以，我非常注意试卷的保密问题。

    “今天下午三点钟，印刷所送来了试卷的校样。第一题是翻译修昔的底斯著作中的一节。我仔细地校阅了清样，因为①原文需要绝对正确。直到四点三十分，还没有校对完。可是我答应一个朋友去他的屋里吃茶，所以我把清样放在桌子上，就离开了屋子，连来带去前后只用了半小时多一点——

    ①修昔的底斯（公元前４６０年—４００年？），希腊历史学家。——译者注

    “福尔摩斯先生，你知道我们学院的屋门都是双重的，里面的门覆盖着绿色台面呢，外面的门是橡木的。当我走近外面的屋门，很吃惊地看见屋门上有把钥匙。一时间，我以为是我自己把钥匙忘在门上了，但是再一摸口袋，我才发现钥匙在里面。我清楚地知道，另一把钥匙是在我的仆人班尼斯特手中。他给我收拾房间已经有十年了，是绝对诚实可靠的。钥匙确实是他的，我推想，他一定进过我的屋子，来看我是否要喝茶，出去时，也许不小心把钥匙忘在门上了。他来的时候，我刚刚出去几分钟。如果不是今天的情况，他忘记钥匙是没有一点关系的，但是今天却产生了无法估量的后果。

    “我一看到我的桌子，立即知道有人翻了我的试卷。清样印在三张长条纸上。原来我是放在一起的。现在呢，一张在地板上，一张在靠近窗户的桌子上，还有一张仍在原处。”

    福尔摩斯开始感兴趣了，他说：“在地板上的是第一张，在窗户旁的桌子上的是第二张，仍在原处的是第三张。”

    “福尔摩斯先生，你使我吃惊，你怎么会知道得这样清楚呢？”

    “请继续叙述你的有趣的事情。”

    “开始的时候，我想是班尼斯特干的，这种行为实在不可饶恕。然而他十分诚恳地否认了，我相信他讲的是实话。另一个解释只能是这样：有人走过看见钥匙在门上，知道我不在屋里，便进来看考卷。这个奖学金的金额是很高的，涉及到大笔的钱财，所以一个厚颜无耻的人或许愿意冒险偷看试卷好去胜过他的同伴。

    “这件事使得班尼斯特非常不安。当我们发现试卷准是被人翻过的时候，他几乎昏了过去。我给他一点白兰地喝，然后让他坐在一把椅子上，他象瘫了似地坐着，这时我检查了整个房间。除了弄皱的试卷外，我很快地找到这位闯入者留下的其它痕迹。靠窗户的桌子上有削铅笔剩下的碎木屑，还有一块铅笔心的碎头儿。显然，这个骗子匆匆忙忙地抄试题，把铅笔尖弄断了，不得不重削。”

    这个案件渐渐吸引了福尔摩斯，他的脾气也就随着好了起来。他说：“讲得好极了！你是吉星高照，大有破案的希望。”

    “还有一些痕迹。我有一个新写字台，桌面是漂亮的红色皮革。我和班尼斯特可以发誓，桌面非常光滑，没有一点污点。现在我发现桌面上有明显的刀痕，大约三英寸长，不是东西擦过的痕迹，而是确实的刀痕。还有，我在桌子上看到一个小的黑色泥球，也许是面球，球面上有些斑点，象是锯末。我肯定这些痕迹是那个弄皱试题的人所留下来的。没有足迹或是其他证据可以辨认这个人。我正着急没有办法的时候，忽然想起您在城里，就直奔您来，向您求教。福尔摩斯先生，请您一定帮我的忙。现在您明白了我所处的困境：或者找出这个人来，或者推迟考试，等到印出新的试题。不能不作任何解释就更换试题，可是，这样一来便会引起讨厌的谣言。这不仅会损害本学院的名声，而且也会影响到领导本院的大学的名声。最要紧的是，我希望能默默地、谨慎地解决这个问题。”

    “我很高兴处理这件事，而且愿意尽力提供一些意见。"福尔摩斯站了起来穿上他的大衣。"这个案子还是很有意思的。你收到试卷以后有人去过你的屋子吗？”

    “有，道拉特·芮斯，一个印度学生。他和我住在同一栋楼，来问考试的方式。”

    “他到你的屋里就是为这事吗？”

    “是的。”

    “那时试卷在你的桌子上吗？”

    “是的，不过我记得是卷起来的。”

    “可以看出来那是清样吗？”

    “有可能。”

    “你的屋子里没有别人？”

    “没有。”

    “有人知道清样要送到你那儿吗？”

    “只有那个印刷工人知道。”

    “班尼斯特知道吗？”

    “他肯定不知道。谁也不知道。”

    “班尼斯特现在在哪儿？”

    “他身体不舒服，坐在椅子上，好象瘫了似的。我立即匆忙地来找你。”

    “你的屋门还开着吗？”

    “我已把试卷锁了起来。”

    “索姆兹先生，那么可以这样说：翻弄试题的人是偶然碰上的，事先并不知道试卷在你的桌子上。”

    “我看是这样的。”

    福尔摩斯微笑了一下，可是这个微笑令人费解。

    他说：“好，我们去看看。华生，这不属于你的职业范围，不是生理的问题，而是属于心理方面的。不过，要是你愿意去，就去吧。索姆兹先生，现在请你吩咐！”

    我们当事人的起居室正对着这座古老学院的庭园，庭园的地上长满苔藓。起居室的窗户又大又低，上面还有花窗棂。一扇峨特式的拱门后面有石梯，石梯已经年久失修了。这位导师的房间在第一层。另外三个大学生，分别各住一层楼。我们到达现场的时候，已经是傍晚了。福尔摩斯停住脚步，注视了一下起居室的窗户。然后，他走近这扇窗户，用脚尖站起来，伸着脖子往屋里探望。

    我们有学问的当事人说：“他一定是从大门进去的。除了这扇玻璃窗以外，再没有别的开口了。”

    福尔摩斯看着我们的当事人，微笑了一下，笑得有些奇怪，并且说：“哦，如果在这儿弄不清什么，我们最好还是到屋里去。”

    这位导师打开屋门，把我们领进他的房间。我们站在门口的时候，福尔摩斯检查了地毯。

    他说：“我想这儿不会有什么痕迹。天气这样干燥，很难找到。你仆人的身体大概已经恢复了。你说你让他坐在椅子上，是哪一把椅子？”

    “窗口旁边的那把。”

    “哦，是靠近这个小桌子的。你现在可以进来了。地毯我已经检查完了。我们再看看这个小桌子。当然，发生过的事情已经清楚了。这个人进屋后，从屋子中间这张桌子上一页一页地拿起试卷，拿到靠窗口的桌子上，因为假如有人从庭园走过来，从这儿一眼就可以看到，便于逃跑。”

    索姆兹说：“实际上他跑不掉，因为我常常从旁门过来。”

    “那很好！不管怎样说，这是他设想的。让我看看那三张清样。没有留下指纹！他先是拿过这一页去抄写的。这用了多长时间呢，快抄也不少于一刻钟。然后丢掉这一张，又拿起另一张。正在这个时候，你回来了，于是他急于跑掉，所以他没有时间把考卷放回原处。当你走进屋门的时候，听没听见石梯上有急促的脚步声？”

    “没有，我没听见。”

    “他急忙地抄写，把铅笔尖弄断了，不得不又削一次。华生，有意思的是：那支铅笔不是普通铅笔。它比普通铅笔粗，软铅，笔杆是深蓝色，制造商的名字是银白色的，笔只剩一英寸半长。索姆兹先生，如果能找到那样一支铅笔，也就找到了那个人。我还要告诉你，他的刀子较大而且很钝，这样你又有了一个线索。”

    索姆兹先生被福尔摩斯谈的这些情况弄胡涂了。他说：

    “别的我还能理解，可是铅笔的长短……”

    福尔摩斯拿出来一小片铅笔木屑，上面有字母ｎｎ。

    “你看。”

    “不，我仍然……”

    “华生，我过去常常低估你的能力。好，ｎｎ是什么意思呢？它们是一个字的末尾两个字母。你知道ＪｏｈａｎｎAFａｂｅｒ是销路最广的铅笔商的名字。这不是很清楚了吗？铅笔用得只剩下了Ｊｏｈａｎｎ字后面的一小段。"他把小桌子拉到电灯下。"我希望他抄写用的纸是很薄的，这样便能透过纸张在光滑的桌面上留下痕迹。唔，没有看见什么痕迹。从小桌子上找不到什么。现在看看中间的桌子。我猜想这个小球就是你谈的那个黑色的面团。形状略象金字塔，中间是空的。正象你说的，小球上还有锯末屑。啊，真有意思。桌面上还有刀痕——确切地说是划痕。开始的地方是划的痕迹，然后才是边缘不整齐的小洞。索姆兹先生，我非常感谢你使我注意这个案情。那扇门通到哪儿？”

    “我的卧室。”

    “出事以后，你去过吗？”

    “没有，我直接来找你。”

    “最好让我查看一下。多么漂亮的古色古香的屋子！请你先等一分钟，我检查完了地板你们再进来。噢，没有看出什么。这块布幔干什么用的？你在这块布幔的后面挂衣服。要是有人不得已藏在这间屋里，他必定藏在这块布幔的后面，因为床太低，衣柜又不够厚。我想可能没有人在这儿吧。”

    当福尔摩斯拉那块布幔的时候，我从他那坚决而又机警的表情知道，他已经做好准备，以防万一。可是拉开布幔一看，除了挂在衣钩上的三、四套衣服以外，什么也没有。福尔摩斯转过身刚要走开，突然又蹲到地板上。

    他说：“喂，这是什么？”

    那是一小块金字塔形状的黑色东西，象腻子，和书房里桌子上的那块完全一样。福尔摩斯把它放在手心上拿到电灯下看。

    “索姆兹先生，这位不速之客在你的起居室里和你的卧室里都留下了痕迹。”

    “他到卧室里去干什么？”

    “我想这很清楚。你突然回来，到了门口，他才发觉。他怎么办呢？无论做什么都会暴露他自己，所以他只好冲进你的卧室躲藏起来。”

    “哎呀，我的上帝，福尔摩斯先生，你是不是说，我和班尼斯特在起居室谈话的时候，这个人一直藏在这里？”

    “我是这样看的。”

    “福尔摩斯先生，当然还有另外一种可能性。我不知道你是否注意到我卧室的窗户了？”

    “玻璃上面有花窗棂，框子是金属的，共三扇，一扇有折叶，可以钻进人来。”

    “正是这样的。卧室对着庭园的一角，所以从外面看不到整个卧室。这个人也许是从窗户进来的，走过卧室，留下了痕迹，最后，发现门开着，便从门那儿跑掉。”

    福尔摩斯不耐烦地摇了摇头。

    他说：“让我们从实际情况着手。你说过，有三个学生用这个石梯，并且总是走过你的门前。”

    “是有三名学生。”

    “他们都要参加这次考试吗？”

    “是的。”

    “三个人里有没有人嫌疑较大呢？”

    索姆兹犹豫不决。

    他说：“这是一个很难答复的问题。没有证据不好轻易怀疑某一个人。”

    “你说说你的怀疑，我来给你找证据。”

    “那么，我简单地告诉你住在这儿的三个人的性格。三个人中住在最下面的是吉尔克利斯特，一位优秀的学生，也是个优秀的运动员，参加了学院的足球队和板球队，低栏和跳远他都得过奖。他是一个漂亮的、很有风度的男人。他父亲是名声不好的扎别兹·吉尔克利斯特勋爵，因为赛马破了产。这个学生很穷，但是他很努力，很勤奋。他是有前途的。

    “住在中间一屋的是一位印度人，名字叫道拉斯·芮斯。他是一个性情安静但是难于接近的人，多数印度人都是这样，他学习得很好，不过他的希腊文差一些。他很稳健，办事很有条理。

    “最上面住的是迈尔兹·麦克拉伦。他要是想学习，可以学得很出色，他是这所大学里最有才华的一个。但是，他任性，生活放荡。第一学年因为打牌的事他差一点被开除。这一学其他懒散地混过来了，对于这次奖学金考试他一定很怕。”

    “那么，你怀疑的就是他了？”

    '我还不敢这样说。但是，这三个人里面或许他是最有可能做这种事的。”

    “很好，索姆兹先生，现在我们见见你的仆人班尼斯特。”

    这个仆人个子不高，面色苍白，胡须剃得很干净，花白头发，年纪有五十多岁。自从试题的事打乱了他安静的生活，他还没有完全平静下来。由于紧张他那圆圆的面颊还在抽动，手指也在颤动。

    他的主人说：“班尼斯特，我们正在调查这件不幸的事。”

    “是的，先生。”

    福尔摩斯说：“我听说你把钥匙忘在门上了。”

    “是的，先生。”

    “正当试卷放在屋里的时候，你这样做，那不是很反常吗？”

    “先生，发生这事是很不应该的。但是，在别的时候，我也忘过。”

    “你什么时候进的屋子？”

    “大约四点半。是索姆兹先生吃茶的时间。”

    “你在屋里等了多久？”

    “我看见他不在，就赶紧出来了。”

    “你看桌子上的试卷了吗？”

    “没有，先生，真的没看。”

    “你怎么会把钥匙忘在门上的？”

    “我手里拿着茶盘。我想等回来再拿钥匙。后来就忘了。”

    “通到外边的屋门是不是有把弹簧锁？”

    “没有，先生。”

    “那扇门一直开着吗？”

    “是的，先生。”

    “不管谁从屋里全可以出来吗？”

    “是的，先生。”

    “索姆兹先生回来后找你，你很不安，是吗？”

    “是的，先生。我来这里这么多年没有发生过这样的事。我差一点昏过去了。”

    “我知道你昏过去了。你开始感觉不舒服的时候，你在哪儿？”

    “我在哪儿，先生？怎么？就在这儿，靠近屋门。”

    “那就有些奇怪了，你坐的是那边靠屋角的椅子。你为什么要走过另外这几张椅子呢？”

    “先生，我不知道，我没有注意我坐在哪儿。”

    “福尔摩斯先生，我也认为他不会注意他当时坐在哪儿。那时他脸色很不好，特别苍白。”

    “你的主人离开以后，你还在这里？”

    “只有一两分钟。然后我锁上门就回我自己的屋子了。”

    “你怀疑谁呢？”

    “噢，我不敢随便说。我不相信这所大学里有人会做出这种不择手段损人利己的事。先生，我不信会有这样的人。”

    福尔摩斯说：“谢谢你，就谈到这里。噢，还有一句话。你没有向你服侍的三位先生提到出了事吧？”

    “没有，先生，没提一个字。”

    “你看见他们了吗？”

    “没有。”

    “很好。索姆兹先生，您愿意和我在这个院子里走走吗？”

    天色愈来愈黑，楼上各层的窗户上全有灯光闪耀着。

    福尔摩斯抬头看了看，说：“你的三个小鸟全回窝了。喂！那是什么？他们当中有一个象是坐立不安。”

    原来是那个印度人，窗帘上突然出现了他的侧影。他在屋内迅速来回踱步。

    福尔摩斯说：“我希望见每个人一面。这可能吗？”

    索姆兹说：“没有问题。这些房间是学院里最古老的，常有客人来参观。来，我亲自领你去。”

    当我们敲吉尔克利斯特的屋门的时候，福尔摩斯说：“请不要通报姓名。"一个细高个、黄头发的青年开了门，当他知道我们是来参观的时候，他表示欢迎。屋内有一些罕见的中世纪室内结构，福尔摩斯对于一个结构很感兴趣，一定要画在他的笔记本上，他弄断了铅笔尖，希望向主人借一支，最后是借了一把小刀削他自己的铅笔。在印度人的房间中，他也做了同样的事情。这个印度人是个沉默寡言、身材矮小、长着弯勾鼻子的人。他斜眼看着我们，当福尔摩斯画完建筑结构图的时候，他显得十分高兴。我看不出福尔摩斯从这两处找到了他所查寻的线索。我们没有能够访问第三处。我们敲不开他的门，而且从门内传过来一阵责骂声，夹杂着愤怒的吼声。"我不管你是谁。去你妈的！明天就要考试了，少来打扰我！”

    我们的向导气得脸都红了，一面下台阶一面说：“真是粗鲁！即使他不知道是我敲门，这样做不也太无礼了吗？在目前的情况下看来，很值得怀疑。”

    福尔摩斯的回答却很奇怪。

    他问：“你能告诉我他的确切身高吗？”

    “福尔摩斯先生，这个我实在说不准确。他比那个印度人高一些，但是又不象吉尔克利斯特那样高。我想大约是五英尺六英寸吧。”

    福尔摩斯说：“这一点很重要。那么，索姆兹先生，我祝你晚安。”

    我们的当事人是又惊讶又失望，大声喊道：“天啊，福尔摩斯先生，你不会这样突然地走掉吧！你好象没有理解我的处境。明天就要考试啦！今天晚上我必须采取一定的措施。试卷被人翻弄了，我就不能举行考试。一定要正视这种情况。”

    “事情只能达到目前这一步。我明天清早再来和你谈这件事。也许我能够告诉你怎样办。可是，你不要动什么东西，什么都不要动。”

    “好，就这样，福尔摩斯先生。”

    “你完全不必担忧。我们一定会找到摆脱困境的办法。我要带走那两个黑泥球和铅笔屑。再见。”

    我们走出了院子，在黑暗中又抬头看了看那几扇窗户。那个印度人仍然在屋内踱步。其他两扇窗户里已经没有灯光了。

    走到大街上，福尔摩斯问：“华生，你怎样看这件事呢？这完全是个客厅中的小游戏，从三张牌中摸出一张，是不是？一定是三个人中的一个干的。你挑你的牌，你说是哪个人？”

    “最上面那个嘴不干净的家伙。他的品行最坏。可是那个印度人也很狡猾。为什么他总在屋内走来走去呢？”

    “这没有什么关系。有些人在努力记东西的时候，常常走来走去。”

    “他看着我们的那个样子，很奇怪。”

    “假如你正准备功课，第二天参加考试，每时每刻都很宝贵，这时有一群人突然找到你，你也会这样看他们的。我看这一点不能说明什么。至于那两支铅笔和两把刀子全没有问题。可是那个人我确实弄不清。”

    “哪一个人？”

    “那个仆人班尼斯特。在这件事情中他耍了什么花招呢？”

    “他给我的印象是一个十分诚实的人。”

    “我也有这种印象。这是使人不能理解的。为什么一个诚实的人——哦，这儿有一家文具店。我们从这家商店开始调查。”

    城内只有四家较大的文具店，福尔摩斯到每一家文具店全拿出那几片铅笔屑，并且要付高价买同样的铅笔。四家全要给他订做一支，因为这不是一支普通尺寸的铅笔，很少有存货。我的朋友并没因此而失望，只是随便地耸一下肩，表示无可奈何罢了。

    “亲爱的华生，我们没有得到什么结果。这个最能说明问题的线索也没有用了。但是，我深信我们仍然能够弄清原来的情况。天哪！已经快九点了，女房东还唠叨过七点半给我们做好豌豆汤呢。华生，你总是不停地抽烟，还不按时吃饭。我想房东会通知你退房的，而我也要随着你倒霉了——不管怎么样，我们还是先解决这位焦虑不安的导师、粗心大意的仆人和三个前程无限的大学生这些人的问题吧。”

    到我们吃饭时候已经很晚了，尽管饭后他沉思了很久，可是他再也没有和我提到这件事。第二天早晨八点钟，我刚刚盥洗完毕，福尔摩斯