The Red-Headed League by Arthur Conan Doyle (7)

I trust that I am not more dense than my neighbors, but I was always oppressed with a sense of my own stupidity in my dealings with Sherlock Holmes. Here I had heard what he had heard, I had seen what he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident that he saw clearly not only what had happened but what was about to happen, while to me the whole business was still confused and grotesque. As I drove home to my house in Kensington I thought over it all, from the extraordinary story of the red-headed copier of the Encyclopaedia down to the visit to Saxe-Coburg Square, and the ominous words with which he had parted from me. What was this nocturnal expedition, and why should I go armed? Where were we going, and what were we to do? I had the hint from Holmes that this smooth-faced pawnbroker's assistant was a formidable man--a man who might play a deep game. I tried to puzzle it out, but gave it up in despair and set the matter aside until night should bring an explanation.

It was a quarter-past nine when I started from home and made my way across the Park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker Street. Two hansoms were standing at the door, and as I entered the passage I heard the sound of voices from above. On entering his room I found Holmes in animated conversation with two men, one of whom I recognized as Peter Jones, the official police agent, while the other was a long, thin, sad-faced man, with a very shiny hat and oppressively respectable frock-coat.

"Ha! Our party is complete," said Holmes, buttoning up his peajacket and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. "Watson, I think you know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce you to Mr. Merryweather, who is to be our companion in to-night's adventure."

"We're hunting in couples again, Doctor, you see," said Jones in his consequential way. "Our friend here is a wonderful man for starting a chase. All he wants is an old dog to help him to do the running down."

"I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase," observed Mr. Merryweather gloomily.

"You may place considerable confidence in Mr. Holmes, sir," said the police agent loftily. "He has his own little methods, which are, if he won't mind my saying so, just a little too theoretical and fantastic, but he has the makings of a detective in him. It is not too much to say that once or twice, as in that business of the Sholto murder and the Agra treasure, he has been more nearly correct than the official force."

"Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones, it is all right," said the stranger with deference. "Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. It is the first Saturday night for seven-and-twenty years that I have not had my rubber."

"I think you will find," said Sherlock Holmes, "that you will play for a higher stake to-night than you have ever done yet, and that the play will be more exciting. For you, Mr. Merryweather, the stake will be some 30,000 pounds; and for you, Jones, it will be the man upon whom you wish to lay your hands."

"John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He's a young man, Mr. Merryweather, but he is at the head of his profession, and I would rather have my bracelets on him than on any criminal in London. He's a remarkable man, is young John Clay. His grandfather was a royal duke, and he himself has been to Eton and Oxford. His brain is as cunning as his fingers, and though we meet signs of him at every turn, we never know where to find the man himself. He'll crack a crib in Scotland one week, and be raising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall the next. I've been on his track for years and have never set eyes on him yet."

"I hope that I may have the pleasure of introducing you to-night. I've had one or two little turns also with Mr. John Clay, and I agree with you that he is at the head of his profession. It is past ten, however, and quite time that we started. If you two will take the first hansom, Watson and I will follow in the second."

Sherlock Holmes was not very communicative during the long drive and lay back in the cab humming the tunes which he had heard in the afternoon. We rattled through an endless labyrinth of gas-lit streets until we emerged into Farrington Street.

"We are close there now," my friend remarked. "This fellow Merryweather is a bank director, and personally interested in the matter. I thought it as well to have Jones with us also. He is not a bad fellow, though an absolute imbecile in his profession. He has one positive virtue. He is as brave as a bulldog and as tenacious as a lobster if he gets his claws upon anyone. Here we are, and they are waiting for us."

To be continued...

The Red-Headed Leaguetby Arthur Conan Doyle (7) (с подсказками)

Союз рыжих. Артур Конан Дойл

I trust that I am not more dense [dens] (глупый) than my neighbors ['neIbqz] (соседи), but I was always oppressed [q'prest] (угнетаем) with a sense of my own stupidity [stjH'pIdIti] (глупости) in my dealings ['dJlINz] (имея дело) with Sherlock Holmes. Here I had heard what he had heard, I had seen what he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident ['evId(q)nt] (ясно) that he saw clearly not only what had happened but what was about to (должно было) happen, while to me the whole business was still confused [kqn'fjHzd] (запутанное) and grotesque [grqu'tesk] (нелепое). As I drove home to my house in Kensington ['kenzINtqn] I thought over it all, from the extraordinary [Ik'strLd(q)n(q)ri] (необычайной) story of the red-headed copier ['kPpiq] (переписчика) of the Encyclopaedia [In"saIklqu'pJdiq] down to the visit to Saxe-Coburg Square, and the ominous ['PmInqs] (зловещие) words with which he had parted ['pRtId] (расстался) from me. What was this nocturnal [nPk'tE:nl] (ночная) expedition ["ekspI'dISqn] (экспедиция), and why should I go armed [Rmd] (вооруженным)? Where were we going, and what were we to do? I had the hint [hInt] (намек) from Holmes that this smooth [smHD]-faced (безбородый) pawnbroker's ['pLn"brqukqz] (владельца ссудной кассы) assistant was a formidable ['fLmIdqb(q)l] (опасный) man -- a man who might play a deep game. I tried to puzzle ['pAzl] it out (разгадать), but gave it up in despair [dIs'peq] (отчаянии) and set the matter aside [q'saId] (в сторону) until night should bring an explanation (объяснение).

It was a quarter past nine when I started from home and made my way across the Park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker Street. Two hansoms ['hxnsqmz] (двуколки) were standing at the door, and as I entered the passage (прихожую) I heard the sound of voices from above. On entering his room I found Holmes in animated ['xnImeItId] (за оживленным) conversation with two men, one of whom I recognized as Peter Jones, the official police agent, while the other was a long, thin, sad-faced [sxd-feIst] (угрюмый) man, with a very shiny ['SaInI] (сверкающим) hat and oppressively [q'presIvli] (удручающе) respectable [rI'spektqbl] (безукоризненном) frock-coat [frPk-'kqut] (сюртуке).

"Ha [hR] (А!)! Our party is complete," said Holmes, buttoning ['bAtnIN] up (застегивая)  his peajacket ['pJ'GxkIt] (матросскую курту) and taking his heavy hunting ['hAntIN] crop [krPp] (охотничий хлыст) from the rack [rxk] (полки). "Watson, I think you know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce you to Mr. Merryweather, who is to be our companion [kqm'pxnjqn] in tonight's adventure [qd'venCq] (приключении)."

"We're hunting in couples again, Doctor, you see," said Jones in his consequential ["kPnsI'kwenSql] way (с важным видом). "Our friend here is a wonderful man for starting a chase [CeIs] (охоты). All he wants is an old dog to help him to do the running down (настигнуть добычу)."

"I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase [CeIs] (охоты)," observed Mr. Merryweather gloomily ['glu:mIlI] (угрюмо).

"You may place considerable confidence in Mr. Holmes, sir," said the police agent loftily ['lPftili] (покровительственно). "He has his own little methods, which are, if he won't mind my saying so, just a little too theoretical [TIq'retIkql] (отвлеченны) and fantastic [fxn'txstIk], but he has the makings ['meIkINz] (задатки) of a detective [dI'tektIv] in him. It is not too much to say that once or twice, as in that business of the Sholto murder and the Agra treasure ['treZq] (сокровищах), he has been more nearly correct than the official force."

"Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones, it is all right," said the stranger ['streInGq(r)] (незнакомец) with deference ['def(q)rqns] (почтением). "Still, I confess [kqn'fes] (признаюсь) that I miss my rubber ['rAbq] (роббер [карточная игра]). It is the first Saturday night for seven-and-twenty years that I have not had my rubber."

"I think you will find," said Sherlock Holmes, "that you will play for a higher stake [steIk] (ставке) tonight than you have ever done yet, and that the play will be more exciting [Ik'saItIN] (увлекательная). For you, Mr. Merryweather, the stake [steIk] (ставка) will be some 30,000 pounds; and for you, Jones, it will be the man upon whom you wish to lay your hands."

"John Clay, the murderer ['mE:d(q)rq] (убийца), thief [TJf] (вор), smasher ['smxSq] (взломщик), and forger [fLGq] (мошенник). He's a young man, Mr. Merryweather, but he is at the head of his profession [prq'feS(q)n], and I would rather have my bracelets ['breIslIts] (наручники) on him than on any criminal in London ['lAndqn]. He's a remarkable [rI'mRkqbl] (замечательный) man, is young John Clay. His grandfather was a royal duke [djHk] (герцог), and he himself has been to Eton ['i:tn] and Oxford. His brain is as cunning ['kAnIN] (изощренный) as his fingers, and though we meet signs of him at every turn, we never know where to find the man himself. He'll crack [krxk] a crib [krIb] (совершит кражу со взломом) in Scotland one week, and be raising money to build an orphanage ['LfqnIG] (детский приют) in Cornwall the next. I've been on his track for years and have never set eyes on him yet."

"I hope that I may have the pleasure of introducing you tonight. I've had one or two little turns also with Mr. John Clay, and I agree with you that he is at the head of his profession [prq'feS(q)n]. It is past ten, however, and quite time that we started. If you two will take the first hansom ['hxnsqm] (двуколку), Watson and I will follow in the second."

Sherlock Holmes was not very communicative [kq'mju:nIkqtIv] (разговорчивым) during the long drive and lay back in the cab humming ['hAmIN] (напевая) the tunes [tjHnz] (мелодии) which he had heard in the afternoon. We rattled [rxtld] (с грохотом мчались) through an endless ['endlqs] (бесконечному) labyrinth ['lxbqrInT] of gas-lit [gxs-lIt] (освещенных газом) streets until we emerged into Farrington ['fxrINtqn] Street.

"We are close there now," my friend remarked [rI'mRkt] (сказал). "This fellow ['felqu] (парень) Merryweather is a bank director, and personally ['pE:snqlI] (лично) interested in the matter. I thought it as well to have Jones with us also. He is not a bad fellow, though an absolute ['xbsqlu:t] imbecile ['ImbIsi:l] (ничего не смыслит) in his profession. He has one positive virtue ['vE:tju:] (достоинство). He is as brave as a bulldog ['buldPg] and as tenacious [tI'neIS(q)s] (цепкий) as a lobster ['lPbstq] (рак) if he gets his claws [klLz] (клешни) upon anyone. Here we are, and they are waiting for us."

До встречи!

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Алексей Винидиктов
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