跳舞的小人（5）

“Well, now I come to the queer part of my story. About a week ago—it was the Tuesday of last week—I found on one of the window-sills a number of absurd little dancing figures, like these upon the paper. They were scrawled with chalk. I thought that it was the stable-boy who had drawn them, but the lad swore he knew nothing about it. Anyhow, they had come there during the night. I had them washed out, and I only mentioned the matter to my wife afterwards. To my surprise she took it very seriously, and begged me if any more came to let her see them. None did come for a week, and then yesterday morning I found this paper lying on the sun-dial in the garden. I showed it to Elsie, and down she dropped in a dead faint. Since then she has looked like a woman in a dream, half dazed, and with terror always lurking in her eyes. It was then that I wrote and sent the paper to you, Mr. Holmes. It was not a thing that I could take to the police, for they would have laughed at me, but you will tell me what to do. I am not a rich man; but if there is any danger threatening my little woman I would spend my last copper to shield her.”

He was a fine creature, this man of the old English soil, simple, straight, and gentle, with his great, earnest blue eyes and broad, comely face. His love for his wife and his trust in her shone in his features. Holmes had listened to his story with the utmost attention, and now he sat for some time in silent thought.

“Don't you think, Mr. Cubitt,” said he, at last, “that your best plan would be to make a direct appeal to your wife, and to ask her to share her secret with you?”

Hilton Cubitt shook his massive head.

“A promise is a promise, Mr. Holmes. If Elsie wished to tell me she would. If not, it is not for me to force her confidence. But I am justified in taking my own line—and I will.”

“Then I will help you with all my heart. In the first place, have you heard of any strangers being seen in your neighbourhood?”

“No.”

“好，现在我谈这件事可疑的地方。大概一个星期以前，就是上星期二，我发现在一个窗台上画了一些跳舞的滑稽小人，跟那张纸上的一模一样，是粉笔画的。我以为是小马倌画的，可是他发誓说他一点都不知道。不管怎样，那些滑稽小人是在夜里画上去的。我把它们刷掉了，后来才跟我妻子提到这件事。使我惊奇的是，她把这件事看得很严重，而且求我如果再有这样的画出现，让她看一看。连着一个星期，什么也没出现。到昨天早晨，我在花园日晷仪上找到这张纸条。我拿给埃尔茜一看，她立刻昏倒了。以后她就象在做梦一样，一精一神恍惚，眼睛里一直充满了恐惧。就在那个时候，福尔摩斯先生，我写了一封信，连那张纸条一起寄给了您。我不能把这张纸条一交一给警察，因为他们准要笑我，但是您会告诉我怎么办。我并不富有，但万一我妻子有什么祸事临头，我愿意倾家荡产来保护她。”

他是个在英国本土长大的漂亮男子——纯朴、正直、文雅，有一双诚实的蓝眼睛和一张清秀的脸。从他的面容中，可以看出他对妻子的钟一爱一和信任。福尔摩斯聚一精一会神地听他讲完了这段经过以后，坐着沉思了一会儿。

“你不觉得，丘比特先生，"他终于说，"最好的办法还是直接求你妻子把她的秘密告诉您？”

希尔顿·丘比特摇了摇头。

“诺言总是诺言，福尔摩斯先生。假如埃尔茜愿意告诉我，她就会告诉我的。假如她不愿意，我不强迫她说出来。不过，我自己想办法总可以吧。我一定得想办法。”

“那么我很愿意帮助您。首先，您听说您家来过陌生人没有？”

“没有。”