原文で読むシャーロック・ホームズ
ホーム長編緋色の研究四つの署名バスカヴィル家の犬恐怖の谷短編シャーロック・ホームズの冒険シャーロック・ホームズの回想シャーロック・ホームズの帰還最後の挨拶 シャーロック・ホームズの事件簿

“We were sitting out upon the lawn on garden chairs, the three of us, basking in the sun and admiring the view across the Broads, when a maid came out to say that there was a man at the door who wanted to see Mr. Trevor.

“ ‘What is his name?’ asked my host.

“ ‘He would not give any.’

“ ‘What does he want, then?’

“ ‘He says that you know him, and that he only wants a moment’s conversation.’

“ ‘Show him round here.’ An instant afterwards there appeared a little wizened fellow with a cringing manner and a shambling style of walking. He wore an open jacket, with a splotch of tar on the sleeve, a red-and-black check shirt, dungaree trousers, and heavy boots badly worn. His face was thin and brown and crafty, with a perpetual smile upon it, which showed an irregular line of yellow teeth, and his crinkled hands were half closed in a way that is distinctive of sailors. As he came slouching across the lawn I heard Mr. Trevor make a sort of hiccoughing noise in his throat, and, jumping out of his chair, he ran into the house. He was back in a moment, and I smelt a strong reek of brandy as he passed me.

“ ‘Well, my man,’ said he. ‘What can I do for you?’

“The sailor stood looking at him with puckered eyes, and with the same loose-lipped smile upon his face.

“ ‘You don’t know me?’ he asked.

“ ‘Why, dear me, it is surely Hudson,’ said Mr. Trevor in a tone of surprise.

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“ ‘Hudson it is, sir,’ said the seaman. ‘Why, it’s thirty year and more since I saw you last. Here you are in your house, and me still picking my salt meat out of the harness cask.’

“ ‘Tut, you will find that I have not forgotten old times,’ cried Mr. Trevor, and, walking towards the sailor, he said something in a low voice. ‘Go into the kitchen,’ he continued out loud, ‘and you will get food and drink. I have no doubt that I shall find you a situation.’

“ ‘Thank you, sir,’ said the seaman, touching his forelock. ‘I’m just off a two-yearer in an eight-knot tramp, short-handed at that, and I wants a rest. I thought I’d get it either with Mr. Beddoes or with you.’

“ ‘Ah!’ cried Mr. Trevor. ‘You know where Mr. Beddoes is?’

“ ‘Bless you, sir, I know where all my old friends are,’ said the fellow with a sinister smile, and he slouched off after the maid to the kitchen. Mr. Trevor mumbled something to us about having been shipmate with the man when he was going back to the diggings, and then, leaving us on the lawn, he went indoors. An hour later, when we entered the house, we found him stretched dead drunk upon the dining-room sofa. The whole incident left a most ugly impression upon my mind, and I was not sorry next day to leave Donnithorpe behind me, for I felt that my presence must be a source of embarrassment to my friend.