The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb

Arthur Conan Doyle

Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, for solution during the years of our intimacy, there were only two which I was the means of introducing to his notice—that of Mr. Hatherley's thumb, and that of Colonel Warburton's madness. Of these the latter may have afforded a finer field for an acute and original observer, but the other was so strange in its inception and so dramatic in its details that it may be the more worthy of being placed upon record, even if it gave my friend fewer openings for those deductive methods of reasoning by which he achieved such remarkable results. The story has, I believe, been told more than once in the newspapers, but, like all such narratives, its effect is much less striking when set forth en bloc in a single half-column of print than when the facts slowly evolve before your own eyes, and the mystery clears gradually away as each new discovery furnishes a step which leads on to the complete truth. At the time the circumstances made a deep impression upon me, and the lapse of two years has hardly served to weaken the effect.

It was in the summer of '89, not long after my marriage, that the events occurred which I am now about to summarise. I had returned to civil practice and had finally abandoned Holmes in his Baker Street rooms, although I continually visited him and occasionally even persuaded him to forgo his Bohemian habits so far as to come and visit us. My practice had steadily increased, and as I happened to live at no very great distance from Paddington Station, I got a few patients from among the officials. One of these, whom I had cured of a painful and lingering disease, was never weary of advertising my virtues and of endeavouring to send me on every sufferer over whom he might have any influence.

One morning, at a little before seven o'clock, I was awakened by the maid tapping at the door to announce that two men had come from Paddington and were waiting in the consulting-room. I dressed hurriedly, for I knew by experience that railway cases were seldom trivial, and hastened downstairs. As I descended, my old ally, the guard, came out of the room and closed the door tightly behind him.

“I've got him here,” he whispered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder; “he's all right.”

“What is it, then?” I asked, for his manner suggested that it was some strange creature which he had caged up in my room.

“It's a new patient,” he whispered. “I thought I'd bring him round myself; then he couldn't slip away. There he is, all safe and sound. I must go now, Doctor; I have my dooties, just the same as you.” And off he went, this trusty tout, without even giving me time to thank him.

I entered my consulting-room and found a gentleman seated by the table. He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a soft cloth cap which he had laid down upon my books. Round one of his hands he had a handkerchief wrapped, which was mottled all over with bloodstains. He was young, not more than five-and-twenty, I should say, with a strong, masculine face; but he was exceedingly pale and gave me the impression of a man who was suffering from some strong agitation, which it took all his strength of mind to control.

“I am sorry to knock you up so early, Doctor,” said he, “but I have had a very serious accident during the night. I came in by train this morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as to where I might find a doctor, a worthy fellow very kindly escorted me here. I gave the maid a card, but I see that she has left it upon the side-table.”

I took it up and glanced at it. “Mr. Victor Hatherley, hydraulic engineer, 16A, Victoria Street (3rd floor).” That was the name, style, and abode of my morning visitor. “I regret that I have kept you waiting,” said I, sitting down in my library-chair. “You are fresh from a night journey, I understand, which is in itself a monotonous occupation.”

“Oh, my night could not be called monotonous,” said he, and laughed. He laughed very heartily, with a high, ringing note, leaning back in his chair and shaking his sides. All my medical instincts rose up against that laugh.

“Stop it!” I cried; “pull yourself together!” and I poured out some water from a caraffe.

It was useless, however. He was off in one of those hysterical outbursts which come upon a strong nature when some great crisis is over and gone. Presently he came to himself once more, very weary and pale-looking.

“I have been making a fool of myself,” he gasped.

“Not at all. Drink this.” I dashed some brandy into the water, and the colour began to come back to his bloodless cheeks.

“That's better!” said he. “And now, Doctor, perhaps you would kindly attend to my thumb, or rather to the place where my thumb used to be.”

He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. It gave even my hardened nerves a shudder to look at it. There were four protruding fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the thumb should have been. It had been hacked or torn right out from the roots.

“Good heavens!” I cried, “this is a terrible injury. It must have bled considerably.”

“Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think that I must have been senseless for a long time. When I came to I found that it was still bleeding, so I tied one end of my handkerchief very tightly round the wrist and braced it up with a twig.”

“Excellent! You should have been a surgeon.”

“It is a question of hydraulics, you see, and came within my own province.”

“This has been done,” said I, examining the wound, “by a very heavy and sharp instrument.”

“A thing like a cleaver,” said he.

“An accident, I presume?”

“By no means.”

“What! a murderous attack?”

“Very murderous indeed.”

“You horrify me.”

I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered it over with cotton wadding and carbolised bandages. He lay back without wincing, though he bit his lip from time to time.

“How is that?” I asked when I had finished.

“Capital! Between your brandy and your bandage, I feel a new man. I was very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through.”

“Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter. It is evidently trying to your nerves.”

“Oh, no, not now. I shall have to tell my tale to the police; but, between ourselves, if it were not for the convincing evidence of this wound of mine, I should be surprised if they believed my statement, for it is a very extraordinary one, and I have not much in the way of proof with which to back it up; and, even if they believe me, the clues which I can give them are so vague that it is a question whether justice will be done.”

“Ha!” cried I, “if it is anything in the nature of a problem which you desire to see solved, I should strongly recommend you to come to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, before you go to the official police.”

“Oh, I have heard of that fellow,” answered my visitor, “and I should be very glad if he would take the matter up, though of course I must use the official police as well. Would you give me an introduction to him?”

“I'll do better. I'll take you round to him myself.”

“I should be immensely obliged to you.”

“We'll call a cab and go together. We shall just be in time to have a little breakfast with him. Do you feel equal to it?”

“Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have told my story.”

“Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an instant.” I rushed upstairs, explained the matter shortly to my wife, and in five minutes was inside a hansom, driving with my new acquaintance to Baker Street.

Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his sitting-room in his dressing-gown, reading the agony column of The Times and smoking his before-breakfast pipe, which was composed of all the plugs and dottles left from his smokes of the day before, all carefully dried and collected on the corner of the mantelpiece. He received us in his quietly genial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us in a hearty meal. When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon the sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and laid a glass of brandy and water within his reach.

“It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, Mr. Hatherley,” said he. “Pray, lie down there and make yourself absolutely at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are tired and keep up your strength with a little stimulant.”

“Thank you,” said my patient. “but I have felt another man since the doctor bandaged me, and I think that your breakfast has completed the cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable time as possible, so I shall start at once upon my peculiar experiences.”

Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded expression which veiled his keen and eager nature, while I sat opposite to him, and we listened in silence to the strange story which our visitor detailed to us.

“You must know,” said he, “that I am an orphan and a bachelor, residing alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am a hydraulic engineer, and I have had considerable experience of my work during the seven years that I was apprenticed to Venner & Matheson, the well-known firm, of Greenwich. Two years ago, having served my time, and having also come into a fair sum of money through my poor father's death, I determined to start in business for myself and took professional chambers in Victoria Street.

“I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in business a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so. During two years I have had three consultations and one small job, and that is absolutely all that my profession has brought me. My gross takings amount to ￡27 10s. Every day, from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon, I waited in my little den, until at last my heart began to sink, and I came to believe that I should never have any practice at all.

“Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the office, my clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who wished to see me upon business. He brought up a card, too, with the name of ‘Colonel Lysander Stark’ engraved upon it. Close at his heels came the colonel himself, a man rather over the middle size, but of an exceeding thinness. I do not think that I have ever seen so thin a man. His whole face sharpened away into nose and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was drawn quite tense over his outstanding bones. Yet this emaciation seemed to be his natural habit, and due to no disease, for his eye was bright, his step brisk, and his bearing assured. He was plainly but neatly dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty than thirty.

“‘Mr. Hatherley?’ said he, with something of a German accent. ‘You have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man who is not only proficient in his profession but is also discreet and capable of preserving a secret.’

“I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an address. ‘May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?’

“‘Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just at this moment. I have it from the same source that you are both an orphan and a bachelor and are residing alone in London.’

“‘That is quite correct,’ I answered; ‘but you will excuse me if I say that I cannot see how all this bears upon my professional qualifications. I understand that it was on a professional matter that you wished to speak to me?’

“‘Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really to the point. I have a professional commission for you, but absolute secrecy is quite essential—absolute secrecy, you understand, and of course we may expect that more from a man who is alone than from one who lives in the bosom of his family.’

“‘If I promise to keep a secret,’ said I, ‘you may absolutely depend upon my doing so.’

“He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I had never seen so suspicious and questioning an eye.

“‘Do you promise, then?’ said he at last.

“‘Yes, I promise.’

“‘Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after? No reference to the matter at all, either in word or writing?’

“‘I have already given you my word.’

“‘Very good.’ He suddenly sprang up, and darting like lightning across the room he flung open the door. The passage outside was empty.

“‘That's all right,’ said he, coming back. ‘I know that clerks are sometimes curious as to their master's affairs. Now we can talk in safety.’ He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to stare at me again with the same questioning and thoughtful look.

“A feeling of repulsion, and of something akin to fear had begun to rise within me at the strange antics of this fleshless man. Even my dread of losing a client could not restrain me from showing my impatience.

“‘I beg that you will state your business, sir,’ said I; ‘my time is of value.’ Heaven forgive me for that last sentence, but the words came to my lips.

“‘How would fifty guineas for a night's work suit you?’ he asked.

“‘Most admirably.’

“‘I say a night's work, but an hour's would be nearer the mark. I simply want your opinion about a hydraulic stamping machine which has got out of gear. If you show us what is wrong we shall soon set it right ourselves. What do you think of such a commission as that?’

“‘The work appears to be light and the pay munificent.’

“‘Precisely so. We shall want you to come to-night by the last train.’

“‘Where to?’

“‘To Eyford, in Berkshire. It is a little place near the borders of Oxfordshire, and within seven miles of Reading. There is a train from Paddington which would bring you there at about 11.15.’

“‘Very good.’

“‘I shall come down in a carriage to meet you.’

“‘There is a drive, then?’

“‘Yes, our little place is quite out in the country. It is a good seven miles from Eyford Station.’

“‘Then we can hardly get there before midnight. I suppose there would be no chance of a train back. I should be compelled to stop the night.’

“‘Yes, we could easily give you a shake-down.’

“‘That is very awkward. Could I not come at some more convenient hour?’

“‘We have judged it best that you should come late. It is to recompense you for any inconvenience that we are paying to you, a young and unknown man, a fee which would buy an opinion from the very heads of your profession. Still, of course, if you would like to draw out of the business, there is plenty of time to do so.’

“I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful they would be to me. ‘Not at all,’ said I, ‘I shall be very happy to accommodate myself to your wishes. I should like, however, to understand a little more clearly what it is that you wish me to do.’

“‘Quite so. It is very natural that the pledge of secrecy which we have exacted from you should have aroused your curiosity. I have no wish to commit you to anything without your having it all laid before you. I suppose that we are absolutely safe from eavesdroppers?’

“‘Entirely.’

“‘Then the matter stands thus. You are probably aware that fuller's-earth is a valuable product, and that it is only found in one or two places in England?’

“‘I have heard so.’

“‘Some little time ago I bought a small place—a very small place—within ten miles of Reading. I was fortunate enough to discover that there was a deposit of fuller's-earth in one of my fields. On examining it, however, I found that this deposit was a comparatively small one, and that it formed a link between two very much larger ones upon the right and left—both of them, however, in the grounds of my neighbours. These good people were absolutely ignorant that their land contained that which was quite as valuable as a gold-mine. Naturally, it was to my interest to buy their land before they discovered its true value, but unfortunately I had no capital by which I could do this. I took a few of my friends into the secret, however, and they suggested that we should quietly and secretly work our own little deposit and that in this way we should earn the money which would enable us to buy the neighbouring fields. This we have now been doing for some time, and in order to help us in our operations we erected a hydraulic press. This press, as I have already explained, has got out of order, and we wish your advice upon the subject. We guard our secret very jealously, however, and if it once became known that we had hydraulic engineers coming to our little house, it would soon rouse inquiry, and then, if the facts came out, it would be good-bye to any chance of getting these fields and carrying out our plans. That is why I have made you promise me that you will not tell a human being that you are going to Eyford to-night. I hope that I make it all plain?’

“‘I quite follow you,’ said I. ‘The only point which I could not quite understand was what use you could make of a hydraulic press in excavating fuller's-earth, which, as I understand, is dug out like gravel from a pit.’

“‘Ah!’ said he carelessly, ‘we have our own process. We compress the earth into bricks, so as to remove them without revealing what they are. But that is a mere detail. I have taken you fully into my confidence now, Mr. Hatherley, and I have shown you how I trust you.’ He rose as he spoke. ‘I shall expect you, then, at Eyford at 11.15.’

“‘I shall certainly be there.’

“‘And not a word to a soul.’ He looked at me with a last long, questioning gaze, and then, pressing my hand in a cold, dank grasp, he hurried from the room.

“Well, when I came to think it all over in cool blood I was very much astonished, as you may both think, at this sudden commission which had been intrusted to me. On the one hand, of course, I was glad, for the fee was at least tenfold what I should have asked had I set a price upon my own services, and it was possible that this order might lead to other ones. On the other hand, the face and manner of my patron had made an unpleasant impression upon me, and I could not think that his explanation of the fuller's-earth was sufficient to explain the necessity for my coming at midnight, and his extreme anxiety lest I should tell anyone of my errand. However, I threw all fears to the winds, ate a hearty supper, drove to Paddington, and started off, having obeyed to the letter the injunction as to holding my tongue.

“At Reading I had to change not only my carriage but my station. However, I was in time for the last train to Eyford, and I reached the little dim-lit station after eleven o'clock. I was the only passenger who got out there, and there was no one upon the platform save a single sleepy porter with a lantern. As I passed out through the wicket gate, however, I found my acquaintance of the morning waiting in the shadow upon the other side. Without a word he grasped my arm and hurried me into a carriage, the door of which was standing open. He drew up the windows on either side, tapped on the wood-work, and away we went as fast as the horse could go.”

“One horse?” interjected Holmes.

“Yes, only one.”

“Did you observe the colour?”

“Yes, I saw it by the side-lights when I was stepping into the carriage. It was a chestnut.”

“Tired-looking or fresh?”

“Oh, fresh and glossy.”

“Thank you. I am sorry to have interrupted you. Pray continue your most interesting statement.”

“Away we went then, and we drove for at least an hour. Colonel Lysander Stark had said that it was only seven miles, but I should think, from the rate that we seemed to go, and from the time that we took, that it must have been nearer twelve. He sat at my side in silence all the time, and I was aware, more than once when I glanced in his direction, that he was looking at me with great intensity. The country roads seem to be not very good in that part of the world, for we lurched and jolted terribly. I tried to look out of the windows to see something of where we were, but they were made of frosted glass, and I could make out nothing save the occasional bright blur of a passing light. Now and then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the journey, but the colonel answered only in monosyllables, and the conversation soon flagged. At last, however, the bumping of the road was exchanged for the crisp smoothness of a gravel-drive, and the carriage came to a stand. Colonel Lysander Stark sprang out, and, as I followed after him, pulled me swiftly into a porch which gaped in front of us. We stepped, as it were, right out of the carriage and into the hall, so that I failed to catch the most fleeting glance of the front of the house. The instant that I had crossed the threshold the door slammed heavily behind us, and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage drove away.

“It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled about looking for matches and muttering under his breath. Suddenly a door opened at the other end of the passage, and a long, golden bar of light shot out in our direction. It grew broader, and a woman appeared with a lamp in her hand, which she held above her head, pushing her face forward and peering at us. I could see that she was pretty, and from the gloss with which the light shone upon her dark dress I knew that it was a rich material. She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a tone as though asking a question, and when my companion answered in a gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that the lamp nearly fell from her hand. Colonel Stark went up to her, whispered something in her ear, and then, pushing her back into the room from whence she had come, he walked towards me again with the lamp in his hand.

“‘Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in this room for a few minutes,’ said he, throwing open another door. It was a quiet, little, plainly furnished room, with a round table in the centre, on which several German books were scattered. Colonel Stark laid down the lamp on the top of a harmonium beside the door. ‘I shall not keep you waiting an instant,’ said he, and vanished into the darkness.

“I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my ignorance of German I could see that two of them were treatises on science, the others being volumes of poetry. Then I walked across to the window, hoping that I might catch some glimpse of the country-side, but an oak shutter, heavily barred, was folded across it. It was a wonderfully silent house. There was an old clock ticking loudly somewhere in the passage, but otherwise everything was deadly still. A vague feeling of uneasiness began to steal over me. Who were these German people, and what were they doing living in this strange, out-of-the-way place? And where was the place? I was ten miles or so from Eyford, that was all I knew, but whether north, south, east, or west I had no idea. For that matter, Reading, and possibly other large towns, were within that radius, so the place might not be so secluded, after all. Yet it was quite certain, from the absolute stillness, that we were in the country. I paced up and down the room, humming a tune under my breath to keep up my spirits and feeling that I was thoroughly earning my fifty-guinea fee.

“Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in the midst of the utter stillness, the door of my room swung slowly open. The woman was standing in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind her, the yellow light from my lamp beating upon her eager and beautiful face. I could see at a glance that she was sick with fear, and the sight sent a chill to my own heart. She held up one shaking finger to warn me to be silent, and she shot a few whispered words of broken English at me, her eyes glancing back, like those of a frightened horse, into the gloom behind her.

“‘I would go,’ said she, trying hard, as it seemed to me, to speak calmly; ‘I would go. I should not stay here. There is no good for you to do.’

“‘But, madam,’ said I, ‘I have not yet done what I came for. I cannot possibly leave until I have seen the machine.’

“‘It is not worth your while to wait,’ she went on. ‘You can pass through the door; no one hinders.’ And then, seeing that I smiled and shook my head, she suddenly threw aside her constraint and made a step forward, with her hands wrung together. ‘For the love of Heaven!’ she whispered, ‘get away from here before it is too late!’

“But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and the more ready to engage in an affair when there is some obstacle in the way. I thought of my fifty-guinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and of the unpleasant night which seemed to be before me. Was it all to go for nothing? Why should I slink away without having carried out my commission, and without the payment which was my due? This woman might, for all I knew, be a monomaniac. With a stout bearing, therefore, though her manner had shaken me more than I cared to confess, I still shook my head and declared my intention of remaining where I was. She was about to renew her entreaties when a door slammed overhead, and the sound of several footsteps was heard upon the stairs. She listened for an instant, threw up her hands with a despairing gesture, and vanished as suddenly and as noiselessly as she had come.

“The newcomers were Colonel Lysander Stark and a short thick man with a chinchilla beard growing out of the creases of his double chin, who was introduced to me as Mr. Ferguson.

“‘This is my secretary and manager,’ said the colonel. ‘By the way, I was under the impression that I left this door shut just now. I fear that you have felt the draught.’

“‘On the contrary,’ said I, ‘I opened the door myself because I felt the room to be a little close.’

“He shot one of his suspicious looks at me. ‘Perhaps we had better proceed to business, then,’ said he. ‘Mr. Ferguson and I will take you up to see the machine.’

“‘I had better put my hat on, I suppose.’

“‘Oh, no, it is in the house.’

“‘What, you dig fuller's-earth in the house?’

“‘No, no. This is only where we compress it. But never mind that. All we wish you to do is to examine the machine and to let us know what is wrong with it.’

“We went upstairs together, the colonel first with the lamp, the fat manager and I behind him. It was a labyrinth of an old house, with corridors, passages, narrow winding staircases, and little low doors, the thresholds of which were hollowed out by the generations who had crossed them. There were no carpets and no signs of any furniture above the ground floor, while the plaster was peeling off the walls, and the damp was breaking through in green, unhealthy blotches. I tried to put on as unconcerned an air as possible, but I had not forgotten the warnings of the lady, even though I disregarded them, and I kept a keen eye upon my two companions. Ferguson appeared to be a morose and silent man, but I could see from the little that he said that he was at least a fellow-countryman.

“Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last before a low door, which he unlocked. Within was a small, square room, in which the three of us could hardly get at one time. Ferguson remained outside, and the colonel ushered me in.

“‘We are now,’ said he, ‘actually within the hydraulic press, and it would be a particularly unpleasant thing for us if anyone were to turn it on. The ceiling of this small chamber is really the end of the descending piston, and it comes down with the force of many tons upon this metal floor. There are small lateral columns of water outside which receive the force, and which transmit and multiply it in the manner which is familiar to you. The machine goes readily enough, but there is some stiffness in the working of it, and it has lost a little of its force. Perhaps you will have the goodness to look it over and to show us how we can set it right.’

“I took the lamp from him, and I examined the machine very thoroughly. It was indeed a gigantic one, and capable of exercising enormous pressure. When I passed outside, however, and pressed down the levers which controlled it, I knew at once by the whishing sound that there was a slight leakage, which allowed a regurgitation of water through one of the side cylinders. An examination showed that one of the india-rubber bands which was round the head of a driving-rod had shrunk so as not quite to fill the socket along which it worked. This was clearly the cause of the loss of power, and I pointed it out to my companions, who followed my remarks very carefully and asked several practical questions as to how they should proceed to set it right. When I had made it clear to them, I returned to the main chamber of the machine and took a good look at it to satisfy my own curiosity. It was obvious at a glance that the story of the fuller's-earth was the merest fabrication, for it would be absurd to suppose that so powerful an engine could be designed for so inadequate a purpose. The walls were of wood, but the floor consisted of a large iron trough, and when I came to examine it I could see a crust of metallic deposit all over it. I had stooped and was scraping at this to see exactly what it was when I heard a muttered exclamation in German and saw the cadaverous face of the colonel looking down at me.

“‘What are you doing there?’ he asked.

“I felt angry at having been tricked by so elaborate a story as that which he had told me. ‘I was admiring your fuller's-earth,’ said I; ‘I think that I should be better able to advise you as to your machine if I knew what the exact purpose was for which it was used.’

“The instant that I uttered the words I regretted the rashness of my speech. His face set hard, and a baleful light sprang up in his grey eyes.

“‘Very well,’ said he, ‘you shall know all about the machine.’ He took a step backward, slammed the little door, and turned the key in the lock. I rushed towards it and pulled at the handle, but it was quite secure, and did not give in the least to my kicks and shoves. ‘Hullo!’ I yelled. ‘Hullo! Colonel! Let me out!’

“And then suddenly in the silence I heard a sound which sent my heart into my mouth. It was the clank of the levers and the swish of the leaking cylinder. He had set the engine at work. The lamp still stood upon the floor where I had placed it when examining the trough. By its light I saw that the black ceiling was coming down upon me, slowly, jerkily, but, as none knew better than myself, with a force which must within a minute grind me to a shapeless pulp. I threw myself, screaming, against the door, and dragged with my nails at the lock. I implored the colonel to let me out, but the remorseless clanking of the levers drowned my cries. The ceiling was only a foot or two above my head, and with my hand upraised I could feel its hard, rough surface. Then it flashed through my mind that the pain of my death would depend very much upon the position in which I met it. If I lay on my face the weight would come upon my spine, and I shuddered to think of that dreadful snap. Easier the other way, perhaps; and yet, had I the nerve to lie and look up at that deadly black shadow wavering down upon me? Already I was unable to stand erect, when my eye caught something which brought a gush of hope back to my heart.

“I have said that though the floor and ceiling were of iron, the walls were of wood. As I gave a last hurried glance around, I saw a thin line of yellow light between two of the boards, which broadened and broadened as a small panel was pushed backward. For an instant I could hardly believe that here was indeed a door which led away from death. The next instant I threw myself through, and lay half-fainting upon the other side. The panel had closed again behind me, but the crash of the lamp, and a few moments afterwards the clang of the two slabs of metal, told me how narrow had been my escape.

“I was recalled to myself by a frantic plucking at my wrist, and I found myself lying upon the stone floor of a narrow corridor, while a woman bent over me and tugged at me with her left hand, while she held a candle in her right. It was the same good friend whose warning I had so foolishly rejected.

“‘Come! come!’ she cried breathlessly. ‘They will be here in a moment. They will see that you are not there. Oh, do not waste the so-precious time, but come!’

“This time, at least, I did not scorn her advice. I staggered to my feet and ran with her along the corridor and down a winding stair. The latter led to another broad passage, and just as we reached it we heard the sound of running feet and the shouting of two voices, one answering the other from the floor on which we were and from the one beneath. My guide stopped and looked about her like one who is at her wit's end. Then she threw open a door which led into a bedroom, through the window of which the moon was shining brightly.

“‘It is your only chance,’ said she. ‘It is high, but it may be that you can jump it.’

“As she spoke a light sprang into view at the further end of the passage, and I saw the lean figure of Colonel Lysander Stark rushing forward with a lantern in one hand and a weapon like a butcher's cleaver in the other. I rushed across the bedroom, flung open the window, and looked out. How quiet and sweet and wholesome the garden looked in the moonlight, and it could not be more than thirty feet down. I clambered out upon the sill, but I hesitated to jump until I should have heard what passed between my saviour and the ruffian who pursued me. If she were ill-used, then at any risks I was determined to go back to her assistance. The thought had hardly flashed through my mind before he was at the door, pushing his way past her; but she threw her arms round him and tried to hold him back.

“‘Fritz! Fritz!’ she cried in English, ‘remember your promise after the last time. You said it should not be again. He will be silent! Oh, he will be silent!’

“‘You are mad, Elise!’ he shouted, struggling to break away from her. ‘You will be the ruin of us. He has seen too much. Let me pass, I say!’ He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the window, cut at me with his heavy weapon. I had let myself go, and was hanging by the hands to the sill, when his blow fell. I was conscious of a dull pain, my grip loosened, and I fell into the garden below.

“I was shaken but not hurt by the fall; so I picked myself up and rushed off among the bushes as hard as I could run, for I understood that I was far from being out of danger yet. Suddenly, however, as I ran, a deadly dizziness and sickness came over me. I glanced down at my hand, which was throbbing painfully, and then, for the first time, saw that my thumb had been cut off and that the blood was pouring from my wound. I endeavoured to tie my handkerchief round it, but there came a sudden buzzing in my ears, and next moment I fell in a dead faint among the rose-bushes.

“How long I remained unconscious I cannot tell. It must have been a very long time, for the moon had sunk, and a bright morning was breaking when I came to myself. My clothes were all sodden with dew, and my coat-sleeve was drenched with blood from my wounded thumb. The smarting of it recalled in an instant all the particulars of my night's adventure, and I sprang to my feet with the feeling that I might hardly yet be safe from my pursuers. But to my astonishment, when I came to look round me, neither house nor garden were to be seen. I had been lying in an angle of the hedge close by the highroad, and just a little lower down was a long building, which proved, upon my approaching it, to be the very station at which I had arrived upon the previous night. Were it not for the ugly wound upon my hand, all that had passed during those dreadful hours might have been an evil dream.

“Half dazed, I went into the station and asked about the morning train. There would be one to Reading in less than an hour. The same porter was on duty, I found, as had been there when I arrived. I inquired of him whether he had ever heard of Colonel Lysander Stark. The name was strange to him. Had he observed a carriage the night before waiting for me? No, he had not. Was there a police-station anywhere near? There was one about three miles off.

“It was too far for me to go, weak and ill as I was. I determined to wait until I got back to town before telling my story to the police. It was a little past six when I arrived, so I went first to have my wound dressed, and then the doctor was kind enough to bring me along here. I put the case into your hands and shall do exactly what you advise.”

We both sat in silence for some little time after listening to this extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock Holmes pulled down from the shelf one of the ponderous commonplace books in which he placed his cuttings.

“Here is an advertisement which will interest you,” said he. “It appeared in all the papers about a year ago. Listen to this:

“‘Lost, on the 9th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged twenty-six, a hydraulic engineer. Left his lodgings at ten o'clock at night, and has not been heard of since. Was dressed in—’

etc., etc. Ha! That represents the last time that the colonel needed to have his machine overhauled, I fancy.”

“Good heavens!” cried my patient. “Then that explains what the girl said.”

“Undoubtedly. It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and desperate man, who was absolutely determined that nothing should stand in the way of his little game, like those out-and-out pirates who will leave no survivor from a captured ship. Well, every moment now is precious, so if you feel equal to it we shall go down to Scotland Yard at once as a preliminary to starting for Eyford.”

Some three hours or so afterwards we were all in the train together, bound from Reading to the little Berkshire village. There were Sherlock Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector Bradstreet, of Scotland Yard, a plain-clothes man, and myself. Bradstreet had spread an ordnance map of the county out upon the seat and was busy with his compasses drawing a circle with Eyford for its centre.

“There you are,” said he. “That circle is drawn at a radius of ten miles from the village. The place we want must be somewhere near that line. You said ten miles, I think, sir.”

“It was an hour's good drive.”

“And you think that they brought you back all that way when you were unconscious?”

“They must have done so. I have a confused memory, too, of having been lifted and conveyed somewhere.”

“What I cannot understand,” said I, “is why they should have spared you when they found you lying fainting in the garden. Perhaps the villain was softened by the woman's entreaties.”

“I hardly think that likely. I never saw a more inexorable face in my life.”

“Oh, we shall soon clear up all that,” said Bradstreet. “Well, I have drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon it the folk that we are in search of are to be found.”

“I think I could lay my finger on it,” said Holmes quietly.

“Really, now!” cried the inspector, “you have formed your opinion! Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you. I say it is south, for the country is more deserted there.”

“And I say east,” said my patient.

“I am for west,” remarked the plain-clothes man. “There are several quiet little villages up there.”

“And I am for north,” said I, “because there are no hills there, and our friend says that he did not notice the carriage go up any.”

“Come,” cried the inspector, laughing; “it's a very pretty diversity of opinion. We have boxed the compass among us. Who do you give your casting vote to?”

“You are all wrong.”

“But we can't all be.”

“Oh, yes, you can. This is my point.” He placed his finger in the centre of the circle. “This is where we shall find them.”

“But the twelve-mile drive?” gasped Hatherley.

“Six out and six back. Nothing simpler. You say yourself that the horse was fresh and glossy when you got in. How could it be that if it had gone twelve miles over heavy roads?”

“Indeed, it is a likely ruse enough,” observed Bradstreet thoughtfully. “Of course there can be no doubt as to the nature of this gang.”

“None at all,” said Holmes. “They are coiners on a large scale, and have used the machine to form the amalgam which has taken the place of silver.”

“We have known for some time that a clever gang was at work,” said the inspector. “They have been turning out half-crowns by the thousand. We even traced them as far as Reading, but could get no farther, for they had covered their traces in a way that showed that they were very old hands. But now, thanks to this lucky chance, I think that we have got them right enough.”

But the inspector was mistaken, for those criminals were not destined to fall into the hands of justice. As we rolled into Eyford Station we saw a gigantic column of smoke which streamed up from behind a small clump of trees in the neighbourhood and hung like an immense ostrich feather over the landscape.

“A house on fire?” asked Bradstreet as the train steamed off again on its way.

“Yes, sir!” said the station-master.

“When did it break out?”

“I hear that it was during the night, sir, but it has got worse, and the whole place is in a blaze.”

“Whose house is it?”

“Dr. Becher's.”

“Tell me,” broke in the engineer, “is Dr. Becher a German, very thin, with a long, sharp nose?”

The station-master laughed heartily. “No, sir, Dr. Becher is an Englishman, and there isn't a man in the parish who has a better-lined waistcoat. But he has a gentleman staying with him, a patient, as I understand, who is a foreigner, and he looks as if a little good Berkshire beef would do him no harm.”

The station-master had not finished his speech before we were all hastening in the direction of the fire. The road topped a low hill, and there was a great widespread whitewashed building in front of us, spouting fire at every chink and window, while in the garden in front three fire-engines were vainly striving to keep the flames under.

“That's it!” cried Hatherley, in intense excitement. “There is the gravel-drive, and there are the rose-bushes where I lay. That second window is the one that I jumped from.”

“Well, at least,” said Holmes, “you have had your revenge upon them. There can be no question that it was your oil-lamp which, when it was crushed in the press, set fire to the wooden walls, though no doubt they were too excited in the chase after you to observe it at the time. Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for your friends of last night, though I very much fear that they are a good hundred miles off by now.”

And Holmes' fears came to be realised, for from that day to this no word has ever been heard either of the beautiful woman, the sinister German, or the morose Englishman. Early that morning a peasant had met a cart containing several people and some very bulky boxes driving rapidly in the direction of Reading, but there all traces of the fugitives disappeared, and even Holmes' ingenuity failed ever to discover the least clue as to their whereabouts.

The firemen had been much perturbed at the strange arrangements which they had found within, and still more so by discovering a newly severed human thumb upon a window-sill of the second floor. About sunset, however, their efforts were at last successful, and they subdued the flames, but not before the roof had fallen in, and the whole place been reduced to such absolute ruin that, save some twisted cylinders and iron piping, not a trace remained of the machinery which had cost our unfortunate acquaintance so dearly. Large masses of nickel and of tin were discovered stored in an out-house, but no coins were to be found, which may have explained the presence of those bulky boxes which have been already referred to.

How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed from the garden to the spot where he recovered his senses might have remained forever a mystery were it not for the soft mould, which told us a very plain tale. He had evidently been carried down by two persons, one of whom had remarkably small feet and the other unusually large ones. On the whole, it was most probable that the silent Englishman, being less bold or less murderous than his companion, had assisted the woman to bear the unconscious man out of the way of danger.

“Well,” said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return once more to London, “it has been a pretty business for me! I have lost my thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and what have I gained?”

“Experience,” said Holmes, laughing. “Indirectly it may be of value, you know; you have only to put it into words to gain the reputation of being excellent company for the remainder of your existence.”

工程师大拇指案

在我们一交一往很密切的那些年月里，提供我朋友歇洛克-福尔摩斯解决的所有问题中，只有两件案子是通过我介绍而引其他注意的：一件是哈瑟利先生大拇指案，另一件是沃伯顿上校发疯案。在这两件案子中，对一位机敏而又有独到见解的读者来说，后一件可能更值得探讨。但是，前一件，一开头就十分奇特，事情的细节又非常富有戏剧一性一，因此它也许更值得记述，虽然它很少用得上我朋友取得卓越成就所运用的那些进行推理的演绎法。我相信，这个故事在报纸上已经登载过不止一次了。但是，就象所有其它诸如此类的叙述那样，只用半栏篇幅笼统地登出来，结果远未引仆人们的注意。因此，还不如让事实慢慢地在你眼前展开，并且让案情之谜随着每一项有助于进一步使人了解全部事实真相的新发现而逐渐得到解决，这样更加引人入胜。当时的情景，给我的印象很深，尽避时光流逝，两年过去了，我似乎还记忆犹新。

我现在要扼要讲讲的故事发生在我结婚后不久的一八八九年的夏天。我那时已重新开业行医，并且终于把福尔摩斯一个人舍弃在贝克街的寓所里，虽然我还不时地探望他，甚至偶尔还劝说他去掉他那豪放不羁的一习一性一来我家作客。我的业务蒸蒸日上，凑巧我的住处离帕丁顿车站不远，有几位铁路员工就到我这里来看病。由于我治好了他们当中一位所患的痛苦缠一绵的病，他就不厌其烦地到处大肆宣传我的医术，尽量将他能够对之施加影响的每一个病人都送到我这里来诊治。

一天早晨，将近七点钟的时候，我被女佣人的敲门声吵醒。她对我说，从帕丁顿来了两个人，正在诊室里等候。我急忙穿上衣服，匆匆下楼。因为经验告诉我，铁路上来的人，病情大都是相当严重的。我下楼后，我的老伙伴——那个铁路警察从诊室里走了出来，并随手把门紧紧地关上。

“我把他带到这儿来了，"他把大拇指举到肩头朝后指指，悄悄地说：“他现在问题不大了。”

“这是怎么回事？"我问道，因为他的举止使我感到似乎他把一个怪物关在我的房间里了。

“是一个新病人，"他悄悄地说，“我认为我最好还是亲自把他送来，这样他就溜不掉了。我现在就得走，大夫，我和你一样，还得值班去，他现在在里边安然无恙了。"说完，这位忠实的介绍人，甚至不让我有向他道谢的机会，就一下子走掉了。

我走进诊室，发现有一位先生坐在桌旁。他穿着朴素，一身花呢衣服，一顶软帽放在我的几本书上面。他的一只手裹一着一块手帕，手帕上斑斑点点尽是血迹。他很年轻，看上去最多不超过二十五岁，容貌英俊，但面色极其苍白。给我的印象是，他正在用他全部的意志来极力控制由于某种剧烈的震动而产生的痛苦。

“我很抱歉这么早就把您吵醒了，大夫，”他说，“我在夜里遇到了一件极其严重的事故。今天早晨我乘火车来到这里，在帕丁顿车站打听什么地方可以找到医生时，一位好心人非常热心地把我护送到这里来了。我给了女佣人一张名片，我看到她将它放到旁边的桌子上了。”

我拿起名片瞧了一下，见上面印着：维克托-哈瑟利先生，水利工程师，维多利亚街！”６号甲（四楼）。这就是这位客人的姓名、身份和地址。“很抱歉，让您久等了，"我边说边坐在我的靠椅上，“我看得出您刚刚坐了一整夜的车，夜间乘车本来是一件单调乏味的事情。”

“噢，我这一宵可不能说是单调乏味，”他说着不禁放声大笑起来，笑声又高又尖。他身一子往后靠在椅子上，捧腹大笑不忍。这笑声引起我医学本能极大的反感。

“别笑了！"我喊道，“镇定镇定吧！"我从玻璃水瓶里倒了一杯水给他。

然而，这根本不起作用，他正在歇斯底里大发作。这是一种一性一格坚强的人在渡过一场巨大危难之后所产生的歇斯底里。片刻间，他又清醒过来，一精一疲力竭，面色苍白。

“我真是出尽了洋相，"他气喘吁吁地说。

“没有的话，把这喝下去吧。"我往水里掺了些白兰地，他那毫无血色的双颊开始有些红一润了。

“好多了！”他说，"那么，大夫费心给我瞧瞧我的大拇指吧，应当说，瞧瞧我的大拇指原来所在的部位。”

他解一开手帕，将手伸了出来。这场面就是铁石心肠的人也会目不忍睹的！只见四根突出的手指和一片鲜红可怕的海绵状断面，这里本来该是大拇指的部位。大拇指已被迫根剁掉或硬拽下来了。

“天哪！"我喊着，“多么可怕的创伤，一定流了不少血。”

“是的，流了不少血。受伤后我昏迷过去，我相信我一定有很长一段时间失去了知觉。等我苏醒过来时，我发现它还在流血，于是我把手帕的一端紧紧地缠在手腕上，并用一根小树枝把它绷紧。”

“包扎得好极了！您本应该当一名外科医生才对！”

“您瞧，这是一项水利学问题，属于我自己的专业知识范围之内的。”

“这是用一件非常沉重、锋利的器一具砍的。"我边检查伤口边说道。

“象是用屠夫的切肉刀砍的。”他说。

“我想，这是意外事故，对吗？”

“决不是。”

“什么？是有人蓄意凶残地砍的吗？”

“嗯，确实极其凶残。”

“真吓人。”

我用海绵洗涤了伤口，揩拭干净，将它敷裹好，最后用脱脂棉和消毒绷带将它包扎起来。他躺在那里，并没有因为疼痛而动一动，尽避他不时地咬紧牙关。

包扎好后，我问道，“现在您觉得怎样？”

“好极了，您的白兰地和绷带，使我觉得自己变成另外一个人了，原先我非常虚弱。但是我还有许多事情要办。”

“我看您最好还是别谈这件事。很明显，这对您的神经是一种折磨。”

“噢，不会，现在不会了。我还得把这桩事报告警察；但是，不瞒您说，如果我不是有这个伤口为证的话，他们会相信我的话才怪呢，因为这是一件极不寻常的事，而我又没有什么证据足以证明我的话是真实的。况且，即使他们相信我，我所能提供的线索也是非常模糊的，他们是否会为我主持正义还是个问题。”

“嘿！"我喊道，“如果您真想解决什么问题，我倒要向您大力推荐我的朋友福尔摩斯先生。在你去找警察之前，不妨先去找他。”

“噢，我听说过这个人，"我的客人回答说，“假如他受理这个案子，我将非常高兴，尽避同时也要报告警察。您能为我介绍一下吗？”

“岂止为您介绍，我还要亲自陪您去走一趟。”

“那就太感谢您了！”

“我们雇一辆马车一块儿走，我们还来得及赶上同他一起吃点早餐。您觉得这样做身一体行吗？”

“行，不讲讲我的遭遇，我心里就觉得不舒坦。”

“那么，让我的佣人去雇一辆马车。我去去马上就来。"我匆匆跑到楼上，简单地对妻子解释了几句。五分钟后，我和这位新相识，已坐上一辆双轮小马车直奔贝克街。

正象我所预料的那样，歇洛克-福尔摩斯穿着晨衣正在他的起居室里一边踱步，一边读着《泰晤士报》上刊载的寻人、离婚等启事的专栏，嘴上叼着早餐前一抽一的烟斗。这个烟斗装的都是前一天一抽一剩下来的烟丝和烟草块。这些东西被小心地烘干了之后就堆积在壁炉架的角落上。他和蔼可亲地接待了我们，吩咐拿来咸肉片和鸡蛋跟我们一起饱餐了一顿。餐后，他把我们的新相识安顿在沙发上，在他的脑后搁了一个枕头，并在他手边放了一杯掺水白兰地。

“不难看出您的遭遇很不寻常，哈瑟利先生。”他说，“请您就在这里随便躺躺，不要拘束。就您所能将经过告诉我们，累了就稍事休息，喝口酒提提神。”

“谢谢，"我的病人说，“但是自从医生给我包扎以后，我就感到判若两人，而我认为您这顿早餐使得整个治疗过程臻于完满。我尽可能少占用您的宝贵时间，因此，我就马上开始叙述我那奇怪的经历吧！”

福尔摩斯坐在他的大扶手椅里，脸上带着一副疲倦困乏的样子，掩饰了他那敏锐和热切的心情。我坐在他的对面，我们静静地倾听着我们的客人细说他那桩稀奇的故事。

“您二位要知道，”他说，“我是个孤儿，又是个单身汉，孤单一个人住在伦敦。就职业来说，我是水利工程师，在格林威治的一家著名的文纳和马西森公司的七年学徒生涯中，我获得了这一行相当丰富的经验。两年前，我学徒期满。在可怜的爸爸去世后，我又继承了一笔相当可观的钱。于是我就决心自己开业，并在维多利亚大街租到了几间办公室。

“我想，每个人都会发现，第一次独自开业是一件枯燥无味的事。这对我来说，尤譬如此。两年之间，我只受理过三次咨询和一件小活儿，而这就是我的职业带给我的全部工作。我的总收入共计二十七英镑十先令。每天从上午九点到下午四点，我都在我的斗室里期待着，直到最后心灰意冷为止。我终于意识到，将永远不会有任何一个主顾上门了。

“然而，昨天正当我想离开办公室的时候，我的办事员进来通报，有位先生为业务上的事情希望见我，同时递给我一张名片，上面印着莱桑德-斯塔克上校的名字，紧跟着他进屋的就是上校本人。他中上等身材，只是极其瘦削，我从来没有见到过这么瘦削的人。他的整个面部瘦削得只剩下鼻子和下巴，两颊的皮肤紧绷在凸起的颧骨上。然而他这种憔悴模样看来是天生的，而不是由于疾病所致，因为他目光炯炯，步伐轻快，举止自如。他的衣着简朴整齐。他的年龄，据我判断，大约将近四十岁。

“'是哈瑟利先生吗？'他说，有点德国口音，‘哈瑟利先生，有人向我推荐说，您不但一精一通业务，而且为人小心谨慎，能够保守秘密。'

“我鞠了一躬，就象任何一个青年那样，听到这类恭维的话就感到飘飘然。'我可以冒昧地问一下，是谁把我说得这么好呢？'

“'哦，也许目前我还是不告诉您为好。我从同一消息来源还听说您既是一个孤儿，又是一个单身汉，并且是独身一人住在伦敦。'

“'一点也不错，'我回答说，‘但是请您原谅，我看不出这些和我业务能力有什么关系，据我所知，您是为了一件业务上的事情来同我洽谈的。'

“'的确如此。但是您会发现我没有半句废话。我们有一件工作想委托您，但是最重要的是绝对保密，绝对保密，你懂吗？当然，我们可以希望一位独居的人比一位和家属生活在一起的人更能做到绝对保密。'

“'您可以绝对相信，'我说，‘如果我向您保证严守秘密，那我就一定会做到的。'

“我说话的时候，他的眼睛一直紧紧地盯着我，我几乎从未见过如此猜忌多疑的眼光。

“末了，他说：‘那么，您作出保证啦？'

“'是的，我保证做到。'

“'在事前事后以及整个事情进行的过程中，完全彻底保持缄默，绝对不提这件事，口头上和书面上都不提，能做到吗？'

“'我已经向您保证过了。'

“'那好极了。'猛然间他跳了起来，闪电般地跑过房间，砰地推开了门，外面过道上空无一人。

“'还不错！'他走了回来。‘我知道办事员们有时对他们东家的事情是很好奇的。现在，我们可以安全地谈话了。'他把椅子拉到紧一贴我身边的地方，又一次以充满怀疑和探索的眼光打量着我。

“看到这瘦骨嶙峋的人的古怪行为，我的心里泛起了一种反感和近乎恐怖的感觉，甚至失去主顾的担心也抑制不住我流露出来的不耐烦情绪。

“'请您说说您的事吧，先生，'我说，‘我的时间是很宝贵的。'愿上帝饶恕我说的后一句话，但这句话是脱口而出的。

“'工作一个晚上五十个畿尼你感到合适吗？'他问。

“'可真不少。'

“'我说是一个晚上的工作，实际上可能只需要一个小时，我只不过是想请熬您有关一台水力冲压机齿轮脱开的事。只要您指出一毛一病在什么地方，我们自己很快就会把它修好的。对于这样一桩委托，您觉得怎么样？'

“'工作看来很轻松，报酬却极为优厚。'

“'一点不错，我们想请您今天晚上乘坐末班车来。'

“'到哪儿去？'

“'去伯克郡的艾津。那是接近牛津郡的一个小地方，①②离雷丁不到七英里。帕丁顿有一班车可以在十一点十五分左右送您到那儿。'

“'很好。'

“'我会坐一辆马车来接您。'

“'那么，还得坐马车赶一段路程了？'

“'是的，我们那小地方完全是在乡下，离艾津车站足足有七英里。'

“'这么说午夜前我们是赶不到那儿了。我估计赶不上回程的火车，那么我就不得不在那儿过夜了。'

“'对，我们会给您安排过夜的地方的。'

“'那很不方便，我不能在更方便的时候去吗？'

“'我们认为，您最好晚上来。正是为了补偿您的不便之处，我们才对您这个默默无闻的年轻人，出那么大的价钱。这个价钱用来请教您这一行中最高明的人士也是足够了。当然，如果您想推掉这笔业务，现在还来得及。'

“我想到了五十个畿尼，以及这笔钱对我将是多么有用。'我不是这个意思，'我说，‘我将十分愉快地满足您的愿望。我倒是想更清楚地了解一下，您要我做的是什么工作。'

“'是啊，我们要您一定保证严守秘密，这会很自然地引起

①②均为英格兰中南部一郡——译者注您的好奇心，我们并不打算委托您办一件事情而又不让您知道它的底细。我想，绝对不会有人偷一听吧？'

“'绝对不会。'

“'那么，事情是这样的，您可能知道，漂白土是一种非常贵重的矿产，在英国，只有一两处发现有这种矿藏？'

“'我听说过。'

“'不久以前，我在距离雷丁不到十英里的地方买了一小块地——非常小的一块地，我非常幸运地发现，其中一块地里有漂白土矿一床一。然而，经过探查之后，我发现这个矿一床一是比较小的。但它却连接了左右两个大得多的矿一床一——可是，这两处全在我的邻居的地里。这些善良的人们，对于在他们的土地里蕴藏着和金矿同样贵重的矿藏却一点儿也不知道。自然，在他们发现他们土地的真正价值之前把他们的地买下来是很上算的。但是，不幸我缺乏购买土地的资金。为此，我找了几个朋友秘密商量。他们提议我们应该悄悄地、秘密地开采我们自己那小块矿一