The Adventure at Baskerville Hall & Other Cases Read Free Page A

slightest change in expression. Thus I was forced to stand helplessly by the carriage as Milverton settled himself inside with my precious letter.
    "I will be in touch," he nodded at me.
    Closing the carriage door behind him – rather harder than it warranted, I will admit – I stood back to watch his carriage until it turned the corner onto Oxford Street and disappeared.
    * * * *
    By this point, I fully understood the gravity of my situation, and reaction had set in. Upon re-entering the building, I went straight up to my room. I felt nauseous, my hands were trembling, and I was shaking like a leaf. How could I ever have been so stupid as to commit such damning sentiments to paper, and how was I ever to get out of the mess in which I now found myself? I did not for one moment entertain Milverton's suggestion that I try to persuade Holmes to extract the money from Lady Eva. Nor could I permit the letter to see the light of day, as my friend's life would certainly be ruined. I was willing to accept the consequences to myself – God knows I deserved them – but to ruin the man I loved more than the breath in my body was intolerable. It simply remained, then, for me to either find the money, or to take Holmes into my confidence and explain the whole account to him. I had no doubt his quicksilver mind would see a way out of the problem where all was dark to me, but I would surely lose his friendship over such a matter when he found that I had been foolish enough to implicate him as well as myself.
    I pulled on my dressing-gown and tied it firmly, hoping that Holmes would take my shaking for shivering after being outside in the cold air, and descended to our sitting-room. Holmes was once more sitting in his armchair, staring into the fire contemplatively. I sat opposite him and stretched my hands out towards the flames, trying to bring some warmth to my cold extremities. After a short while, he spoke.
    "It is a bad business, Watson."
    "I should say so," I agreed fervently.
    "And yet," he continued, a distinct thread of annoyance creeping into his voice, "it could all be avoided if the lady had only resisted the temptation to commit such sentiments to paper. Her, and a hundred others like her every day, have really no-one else to blame when they find that–"
    "For God's sake, man, what would you know of it?" I practically snarled at him. Given my situation, it may well be imagined that his words had all the comfort for me of vinegar in an open wound, and I could not hold my tongue. "Not everyone is so fortunate as to have Sherlock Holmes's complete mastery of their brains over their hearts, and I think it is very bad of you not to show a little compassion."
    For the first time since we had entered the room after our ramble, Holmes turned to look at me fully.
    "Watson?" he asked eventually. He seemed to be searching for words. "I do not wish to pry, but is everything quite alright?"
    I was already embarrassed at my outburst, and hastened to deflect those deceptively calm eyes that could read me as easily as a page of printed text.
    "I am fine," I murmured. "Please excuse what I said. I am rather disgusted by our meeting with Milverton, he is a most odious character. Furthermore, while outside he made a request that I could persuade you to his way of thinking. You may imagine how repellent I found the suggestion."
    He scrutinised me closely, and I quickly looked at the fireplace, for I could not bring myself to meet his gaze at that moment.
    "Very well," he said finally. Rising, he disappeared into his bedroom and some minutes later a rakish young workman with a goatee beard swaggered out. He stopped to light his clay pipe at the lamp.
    "I'll be back some time, Watson," he said, and vanished into the night.
    When he was safely out of the door, I allowed my head to fall into my hands. For long minutes I sat there until, unable to let my mind dwell upon it any longer, I went up to my bedchamber to seek solace in unconsciousness.
    *