Sherlock Holmes and the Knave of Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page B

him!’
    The neighbour looked at Verne in surprise. ‘
What?
But,
m’sieur
, this man just tried to kill you!’
    Verne, face as pale as damp parchment, shook his head. ‘Leave him be, I say. He meant no such thing. Of that I am certain.’
    ‘How
can
you be certain?’ demanded Fréson.
    Verne hesitated, then said: ‘Because this man is my nephew, Gaston!’

CHAPTER SIX

The Dreamy Mouse
      F or one fleeting moment there was total, stunned silence. Then the onlookers started chattering again and Holmes, realizing that someone had to take charge, snapped orders to Verne’s servant. ‘Help your master inside. It is cold out here and there is the threat of more rain. Watson – help him.’
    ‘Of course….’
    Watson had been looking for the woman in the purple dress, but she must have left while he was treating Verne. Now he helped the servant gently lift Verne to his feet, and together they assisted him through the gate towards the house.
    A dog – the same black spaniel they’d seen earlier – was still barking furiously. A woman in a long brown dress and pearls was standing in the middle of the darkening courtyard. Hands pressed anxiously against her cheeks, she watched as they helped Verne limp towards her.
    ‘Jules?’ she called, alarmed. ‘Jules! What happened?’
    ‘It is … nothing, Honorine,’ he said weakly. ‘Nothing of … consequence.’
    But she knew better. As soon as she saw his leg wound, the dark, intelligent eyes beneath her delicately arched brows widened in horror. ‘My God, you’re bleeding!’
    ‘He has been shot,’ said Watson. ‘But do not worry,
madame
, I do not believe the wound to be life-threatening.’
    The woman – obviously Verne’s wife, Honorine – was about the same age as her husband. She was above average heightand of portly stature, her round, clear-skinned face reflecting a kindly nature. She had a long straight nose, a wide, determined mouth, and wore her silver hair in a centre-part, pinned close to her head.
    ‘Dear God,’ she said, ‘we must get him inside, quickly!’
    Holmes watched the exchange, then turned to Verne’s neighbour and said: ‘I will take charge of this man now.’
    ‘You are welcome to him,’ Fréson said, pushing Gaston roughly towards Holmes. ‘Should I call for the police?’
    ‘I imagine they have already been summoned.’
    Taking Gaston by the arm, Holmes led him through the gate. Gaston was still docile, hardly aware of his surroundings. As if in a daze, he stumbled up the steps on his way into the house. The spaniel rushed up to meet him, happily sniffing around his legs and wagging its tail. Gaston ignored it.
    As Holmes led his prisoner into the hallway, a floorboard creaked underfoot. Honorine, who was watching Watson tend to her husband from the sitting-room doorway, heard the noise and turned around.
    Recognizing Gaston, she frowned and said angrily: ‘You! Did
you
do this?’
    Gaston merely tilted his head to one side and stared down at the rug.
    ‘Gaston!
Answer me!’
    Again, Gaston ignored her.
    ‘Madame Verne?’ Holmes inquired.
    With effort she drew herself up and stifled her obvious anger.
‘Oui, m’sieur.’
    ‘I fear we have not yet been introduced. I am Sherlock Holmes.’
    ‘O-Oh, yes, of course….’ Honorine stopped glaring at Gaston and offered Holmes a troubled smile. ‘Jules said you were coming. He was most excited about it, in fact.’ She again glared at Gaston before adding to Holmes: ‘Forgive my rudeness,
m’sieur
. But as you can imagine, all this has come as a dreadful shock. Did you see what happened?’
    ‘Yes.’ Over her shoulder Holmes could see into the dark-walled , copper-ceilinged sitting room where Watson was tending to Verne’s injured leg. ‘Gaston tried to shoot your husband. Do you have any idea why?’
    ‘None,’ she replied, her face creased with emotion.
    ‘You are quite sure of that?’
    Honorine didn’t answer for a moment. Then, ‘I am