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CAPTULO VII - Pag 9

English version Versin en espaol
The Episode of the Barrel

The police had brought a cab with them, and in this I escorted Miss Morstan back to her home. After the angelic fashion of women, she had borne trouble with a calm face as long as there was some one weaker than herself to , and I had found her bright and placid by the side of the frightened housekeeper. In the cab, however, she first turned faint, and then burst into a ion of weeping,—so sorely had she been tried by the adventures of the night.

She has told me since that she thought me cold and distant upon that journey. She little guessed the struggle within my breast, or the effort of self-restraint which held me back. My sympathies and my love went out to her, even as my hand had in the garden. I felt that years of the conventionalities of life could not teach me to know her sweet, brave nature as had this one day of strange experiences. Yet there were two thoughts which sealed the words of affection upon my lips.

She was weak and helpless, shaken in mind and nerve. It was to take her at a disadvantage to obtrude love upon her at such a time. Worse still, she was rich.

If Holmes's researches were successful, she would be an heiress. Was it fair, was it honorable, that a half-pay surgeon should take such advantage of an intimacy which chance had brought about? Might she not look upon me as a mere vulgar fortune-seeker? I could not bear to risk that such a thought should cross her mind. This Agra treasure intervened like an imable barrier between us.

It was nearly two o'clock when we reached Mrs. Cecil Forrester's. The servants had retired hours ago, but Mrs. Forrester had been so interested by the strange message which Miss Morstan had received that she had sat up in the hope of her return. She opened the door herself, a middle-aged, graceful woman, and it gave me joy to see how tenderly her arm stole round the other's waist and how motherly was the voice in which she greeted her. She was clearly no mere paid dependant, but an honored friend. I was introduced, and Mrs. Forrester earnestly begged me to step in and tell her our adventures. I explained, however, the importance of my errand, and promised faithfully to call and report any progress which we might make with the case. As we drove away I stole a glance back, and I still seem to see that little group on the step, the two graceful, clinging figures, the half-opened door, the hall light shining through stained glass, the barometer, and the bright stair-rods. It was soothing to catch even that ing glimpse of a tranquil English home in the midst of the wild, dark business which had absorbed us.

And the more I thought of what had happened, the wilder and darker it grew. I reviewed the whole extraordinary sequence of events as I rattled on through the silent gas-lit streets. There was the original problem: that at least was pretty clear now. The death of Captain Morstan, the sending of the pearls, the ment, the letter,—we had had light upon all those events. They had only led us, however, to a deeper and far more tragic mystery. The Indian treasure, the curious plan found among Morstan's baggage, the strange scene at Major Sholto's death, the rediscovery of the treasure immediately followed by the murder of the discoverer, the very singular accompaniments to the crime, the footsteps, the remarkable weapons, the words upon the card, corresponding with those upon Captain Morstan's chart,—here was indeed a labyrinth in which a man less singularly endowed than my fellow-lodger might well despair of ever finding the clue.


Pinchin Lane was a row of shabby two-storied brick houses in the lower quarter of Lambeth. I had to knock for some time at No. 3 before I could make my impression. At last, however, there was the glint of a candle behind the blind, and a face looked out at the upper window.
"Go on, you drunken vagabone," said the face. "If you kick up any more row I'll open the kennels and let out forty-three dogs upon you."
"If you'll let one out it's just what I have come for," said I.


"Go on!" yelled the voice. "So help me gracious, I have a wiper in the bag, an' I'll drop it on your 'ead if you don't hook it."
"But I want a dog," I cried.
"I won't be argued with!" shouted Mr. Sherman. "Now stand clear, for when I say 'three,' down goes the wiper."
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes—" I began, but the words had a most magical effect, for the window instantly slammed down, and within a minute the door was unbarred and open. Mr. Sherman was a lanky, lean old man, with stooping shoulders, a stringy neck, and blue-tinted glasses.
"A friend of Mr. Sherlock is always welcome," said he. "Step in, sir. Keep clear of the badger; for he bites. Ah, naughty, naughty, would you take a nip at the gentleman?" This to a stoat which thrust its wicked head and red eyes between the bars of its cage.

"Don't mind that, sir: it's only a slow-worm. It hain't got no fangs, so I gives it the run o' the room, for it keeps the beetles down. You must not mind my bein' just a little short wi' you at first, for I'm guyed at by the children, and there's many a one just comes down this lane to knock me up.

What was it that Mr. Sherlock Holmes wanted, sir?"
"He wanted a dog of yours."
"Ah! that would be Toby."
"Yes, Toby was the name."
"Toby lives at No. 7 on the left here." He moved slowly forward with his candle among the queer animal family which he had gathered round him. In the uncertain, shadowy light I could see dimly that there were glancing, glimmering eyes peeping down at us from every cranny and corner. Even the rafters above our heads were lined by solemn fowls, who lazily shifted their weight from one leg to the other as our voices disturbed their slumbers.

Toby proved to be an ugly, long-haired, lop-eared creature, half spaniel and half lurcher, brown-and-white in color, with a very clumsy waddling gait. It accepted after some hesitation a lump of sugar which the old naturalist handed to me, and, having thus sealed an alliance, it followed me to the cab, and made no difficulties about accompanying me. It had just struck three on the Palace clock when I found myself back once more at Pondicherry Lodge.

The ex-prize-fighter McMurdo had, I found, been arrested as an accessory, and both he and Mr. Sholto had been marched off to the station.

Two constables guarded the narrow gate, but they allowed me to with the dog on my mentioning the detective's name.
Holmes was standing on the door-step, with his hands in his pockets, smoking his pipe.
"Ah, you have him there!" said he. "Good dog, then! Atheney Jones has gone. We have had an immense display of energy since you left. He has arrested not only friend Thaddeus, but the gatekeeper, the housekeeper, and the Indian servant. We have the place to ourselves, but for a sergeant up-stairs. Leave the dog here, and come up."
We tied Toby to the hall table, and reascended the stairs. The room was as he had left it, save that a sheet had been draped over the central figure. A weary-looking police-sergeant reclined in the corner.
"Lend me your bull's-eye, sergeant," said my companion. "Now tie this bit of card round my neck, so as to hang it in front of me. Thank you. Now I must kick off my boots and stockings.—Just you carry them down with you, Watson. I am going to do a little climbing. And dip my handkerchief into the creasote. That will do. Now come up into the garret with me for a moment."

We clambered up through the hole. Holmes turned his light once more upon the footsteps in the dust.

"I wish you particularly to notice these footmarks," he said. "Do you observe anything noteworthy about them?"
"They belong," I said, "to a child or a small woman."
"Apart from their size, though. Is there nothing else?"
"They appear to be much as other footmarks."
"Not at all. Look here! This is the print of a right foot in the dust. Now I make one with my naked foot beside it. What is the chief difference?"
"Your toes are all cramped together. The other print has each toe distinctly divided."

"Quite so. That is the point. Bear that in mind. Now, would you kindly step over to that flap-window and smell the edge of the wood-work? I shall stay here, as I have this handkerchief in my hand."

I did as he directed, and was instantly conscious of a strong tarry smell.
"That is where he put his foot in getting out. If YOU can trace him, I should think that Toby will have no difficulty. Now run down-stairs, loose the dog, and look out for Blondin."
By the time that I got out into the grounds Sherlock Holmes was on the roof, and I could see him like an enormous glow-worm crawling very slowly along the ridge. I lost sight of him behind a stack of chimneys, but he presently reappeared, and then vanished once more upon the opposite side. When I made my way round there I found him seated at one of the corner eaves.
"That you, Watson?" he cried.
"Yes."
"This is the place. What is that black thing down there?"
"A water-barrel."
"Top on it?"
"Yes."
"No sign of a ladder?"
"No."
"Confound the fellow! It's a most break-neck place. I ought to be able to come down where he could climb up. The water-pipe feels pretty firm. Here goes, anyhow."
There was a scuffling of feet, and the lantern began to come steadily down the side of the wall. Then with a light spring he came on to the barrel, and from there to the earth.

El episodio del barril

Los policas haban llegado en coche, y en ese coche acompa a su casa a la seorita Morstan. Con un estilo angelical tpicamente femenino, haba sobrellevado los malos momentos con expresin serena mientras hubo alguien ms dbil que ella a quien consolar, y yo la haba visto animada y tranquila al lado de la aterrada ama de llaves. Sin embargo, en el coche estuvo primero a punto de desmayarse y luego estall en llantos apasionados, de tanto que la haban afectado las aventuras de aquella noche. Tiempo despus me confes que durante aquel trayecto yo le haba parecido fro y distante. Poco sospechaba la lucha que tena lugar en mi pecho y el esfuerzo que tuve que hacer para contener mis impulsos. Estaba dispuesto a ofrecerle todas mis simpatas y mi amor, como le haba ofrecido la mano en el jardn. Estaba convencido de que aquel nico da de extraas aventuras me haba permitido conocer su carcter dulce y valeroso como no habra podido llegar a conocerlo en muchos aos de trato convencional. Sin embargo, dos pensamientos tenan sellados mis labios, impidiendo salir de ellos las palabras de afecto. Ella se encontraba dbil e indefensa, con la mente y los nervios trastornados; hablarle de amor en aquel momento era jugar con ventaja. Pero haba algo aun peor: era rica. Si las investigaciones de Holmes tenan xito, heredara una fortuna. Era justo, era honorable que un mdico con media paga se aprovechara de una intimidad que slo se deba al azar? Ella podra pensar que yo era un vulgar cazadotes, y yo no poda arriesgarme a que se le pasara por la cabeza semejante pensamiento. Aquel tesoro de Agra se interpona entre nosotros como una barrera infranqueable.
Eran casi las dos cuando llegamos a la casa de la seora Forrester. La servidumbre se haba acostado haca horas, pero la seora Forrester estaba tan intrigada por el extrao mensaje que haba recibido la seorita Morstan que se haba quedado levantada esperando su regreso. Ella misma nos abri la puerta; era una atractiva mujer de edad madura, y me alegr ver con cunta ternura rode con su brazo la cintura de la joven y con qu voz tan maternal la saludaba. Estaba claro que para ella la seorita Morstan no era una simple empleada, sino una amiga apreciada. Fuimos presentados, y la seora Forrester insisti en que entrara y le contara nuestras aventuras; pero yo le expliqu la importancia de mi misin y le promet solemnemente pasar a visitarla para informarle de los progresos que hiciramos en el caso. Cuando me alejaba, ech un vistazo hacia atrs y an me parece estar vindolas, all en los escalones: las dos elegantes figuras abrazadas, la puerta medio abierta, la luz del vestbulo brillando a travs de la vidriera, reflejndose en el barmetro y en las varillas de la escalera... Qu reconfortante resultaba aquella imagen de tranquilo hogar ingls, por muy fugaz que fuera, en medio del violento y tenebroso asunto que nos tena absorbidos.
Y cuanto ms pensaba en lo sucedido, ms extrao e incomprensible me pareca. Mientras traquetebamos por las silenciosas calles iluminadas por farolas de gas, fui repasando toda la extraordinaria serie de acontecimientos. Lo primero, el problema original: eso, por lo menos, estaba ya bastante claro. La muerte del capitn Morstan, el envo de las perlas, el anuncio, la carta..., todo aquello lo habamos aclarado. Sin embargo, eso nos haba conducido a un misterio aun ms complicado y mucho ms trgico. El tesoro indio, el curioso plano encontrado en el equipaje de Morstan, la extraa escena de la muerte del mayor Sholto, el descubrimiento del tesoro, seguido inmediatamente por la muerte del descubridor, las extrasimas circunstancias del crimen, las pisadas, las armas exticas, las palabras escritas en el papel, que coincidan con las del plano del capitn Morstan..., un verdadero laberinto, en el que un hombre que no poseyera las extraordinarias facultades de mi compaero de alojamiento no tendra la menor esperanza de encontrar una sola pista.
Pinchin Lane era una manzana de destartaladas casas de ladrillo, de dos pisos, en la zona ms baja de Lambeth. Tuve que llamar durante un buen rato al nmero 3 antes de que dieran seales de orme. Por fin, vi brillar la luz de una vela detrs de la persiana y una cara se asom a la ventana de arriba.
––Largo de ah, borracho, vagabundo ––dijo la cara––. Si das un solo golpe ms, abro las perreras y te suelto cuarenta y tres perros.
––Me basta con que suelte a uno, a eso he venido ––dije.
––Largo! ––exclam la voz––. Por Dios que tengo una palanca en esta bolsa y te la voy a tirar a la cabeza a ver si la coges al vuelo.
––Es que necesito un perro ––grit.
––Conmigo no se discute! ––chill el seor Sherman––. Y ahora, qutate de ah porque, en cuanto cuente tres, tiro la palanca.
––El seor Sherlock Holmes... ––empec a decir.
Estas palabras tuvieron un efecto absolutamente mgico, porque al instante la ventana se cerr de golpe y en menos de un minuto la puerta estaba desatrancada y abierta. El seor Sherman era un hombre mayor, larguirucho y flaco, con los hombros cados, el cuello fibroso y gafas de cristales azules.
––Los amigos del seor Holmes son siempre bienvenidos ––dijo––. Pase, caballero. No se acerque al tejn, que muerde. Ah, desvergonzada! Queras darle un mordisco al caballero, eh? ––esto se lo dijo a una comadreja que asomaba su maligna cabeza de ojos rojizos entre los barrotes de su jaula––. De se no se asuste, seor; es slo un lucin. No tiene colmillos y lo dejo suelto para que acabe con las cucarachas. Tiene que perdonarme que haya estado algo seco con usted al principio. Es que los nios no me dejan en paz, y muchos de ellos vienen a esta calle slo para llamar a mi puerta. Qu es lo que deseaba el seor Holmes?
––Necesita uno de sus perros.
––Ah! Ser Toby, sin duda.
––S, Toby era el nombre.
––Toby vive en el nmero 7, aqu a la izquierda.
Avanz despacio con la vela entre la pintoresca familia de animales que haba reunido a su alrededor. A la luz dbil y vacilante de la vela pude entrever que desde todos los rincones nos miraban ojos relucientes y curiosos. Hasta las vigas que se extendan sobre nuestras cabezas estaban cubiertas de aves de aspecto solemne, que se movan perezosamente, cambiando el peso del cuerpo de una pata a la otra al despertarse a causa de nuestras voces.
Toby result ser un animal feo, de pelo largo y orejas cadas, mitad spaniel y mitad ratonero, de colores castao y blanco, de andares desgarbados y torpes. Tras dudar un momento, acept un terrn de azcar que el viejo naturalista me haba dado y, habiendo sellado as nuestra alianza, me sigui hasta el coche y no puso ninguna dificultad para acompaarme.
Acababan de dar las tres en el reloj de palacio cuando llegu de nuevo al Pabelln Pondicherry. All me enter de que el exboxeador McMurdo haba sido detenido como cmplice, y que lo haban conducido a comisara junto con el seor Sholto.
Dos agentes de uniforme vigilaban la puerta exterior, pero me dejaron pasar con el perro cuando mencion el nombre del detective.
Holmes estaba de pie en el umbral de la casa, con las manos en los bolsillos, fumando una pipa.
––Ah, ya lo trae! ––dijo–– Hola, perrito! Athelney Jones se ha marchado. Desde que usted nos dej, ha habido aqu un autntico derroche de energa. No slo ha detenido al amigo Thaddeus: tambin al portero, al ama de llaves y al criado indio. Tenemos toda la casa para nosotros solos, aparte de un sargento que est arriba. Deje al perro aqu y subamos.
Atamos a Toby a la mesa del vestbulo y volvimos a subir las escaleras. La habitacin estaba tal como la habamos dejado, aunque haban cubierto la figura central con una sbana. Apoyado en un rincn, haba un sargento de polica de aspecto muy fatigado.
––Djeme su linterna sorda, sargento ––dijo mi compaero––. Ahora, tenme al cuello este cordel, para colgrmela por delante. Gracias. Ahora tengo que quitarme los zapatos y los calcetines. Haga el favor de llevrselos cuando baje, Watson. Yo voy a hacer un poco de escalada. Moje mi pauelo en la creosota. Con eso bastar. Ahora suba un momento conmigo a la buhardilla.
Trepamos a travs del agujero y Holmes dirigi una vez ms la luz hacia las pisadas en el polvo.
––Quiero que se fije muy bien en estas pisadas ––dijo––. Nota algo de particular en ellas?
––Que son de un nio o de una mujer pequea ––respond.
Aparte del tamao, hombre. No ve nada ms?
––A m, francamente, me parecen como cualquier otra pisada.
––Ni mucho menos. Mire usted aqu! Esta es la huella de un pie derecho en el polvo. Ahora voy a dejar yo otra a su lado, con mi pie descalzo. Cul es la principal diferencia?
––Los dedos de su pie estn juntos. Los de la otra huella estn perfectamente separados.
––Exacto. Eso mismo. Acurdese de esto. Y ahora, haga el favor de asomarse a esa trampilla y olfatee el marco de madera. Yo me quedar aqu, porque llevo el pauelo en la mano.
Hice lo que me indicaba y al instante percib un olor fuerte, como de alquitrn.
––Ah es donde puso el pie al escapar. Y si usted puede captar ese rastro, no creo que Toby tenga la menor dificultad. Baje corriendo, suelte al perro, y preprese a ver a Blondin.
Para cuando sal al jardn, Sherlock Holmes estaba ya en el tejado, y pareca una enorme lucirnaga reptando muy despacio por el caballete. Lo perd de vista cuando pas por detrs de una batera de chimeneas, pero volvi a aparecer y despus desapareci de nuevo por el otro lado. Dobl la esquina de la casa y lo encontr sentado en la esquina del alero.
––Es usted, Watson?
––S.
––ste es el lugar. Qu es esa cosa negra que hay abajo?
––Un barril de agua.
––Con la tapa puesta?
––S?
––No hay por ah una escalera?
––No.
––Condenado individuo! Esto es como para partirse el cuello. Yo debera poder bajar por donde l subi. La tubera parece bastante slida. All vamos, pase lo que pase.
Se oy un arrastrar de pies y la luz de la linterna empez a descender poco a poco por la esquina de la pared. Por fin, dando un gil salto, Holmes aterriz sobre el barril, y de ah baj al suelo.

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