That morning my companion was in a depressed and melancholy mood, and was deep in thought. His usually alert and practical character was often affected by such bad moods.

"Did you see him?" asked Holmes.

"You mean the old man who just left?"

"right."

"Yes, I saw him at the door."

"What do you think of him?"

"A pitiable, idle, down-and-out old guy."

"Watson, you are absolutely right. It deserves sympathy and has nothing to do. However, isn't the whole life worthy of sympathy and has nothing to do? Isn't his story a summary of the entire human race? We pursue it actively and always want to catch it.

What. But what is left in our hands in the end? A dream, or a pain worse than a dream.”

"Is this old man one of your clients?"

"Yes. I think that's what I should say about him. He was sent by Scotland Yard, just like doctors transferring patients they can't cure to charlatans who can treat difficult and complicated diseases. The police said they had no way to save themselves, no matter what happened

No matter what happens, the patient's condition cannot be worse than the current situation."

"What's going on?"

My partner picked up a greasy business card from the table and introduced: "Josiah Ambley. He said he was a shareholder of Brickford and Ambley, a pigment merchant who sold oil boxes.

You can find their names on the page. He saved a fortune, retired at the age of 61, bought a house in Lewisham, and finally rested after a busy life. It is generally believed that his old age

It’s pretty much guaranteed.”

"Indeed." I said.

My companion looked at the note he had scrawled on the back of the envelope.

"Watson, he retired in 1896. The next year he married a woman 20 years younger than himself. If the photos had not been processed, his wife was a very beautiful woman. She had excellent living conditions and a beautiful wife.

, and having free time, it seemed to be a bright road in front of him. But as you can see, within two years, he has become the most miserable old guy in the world, and his situation is miserable. "

"What is going on?"

"Watson, it's an old story. A treacherous friend and a frivolous wife. Amberley has a hobby, which is playing chess. Not far from his home in Lewisham, there lived a young doctor.

He was also a chess enthusiast. I wrote down his name, Ray Ernest. He often went to Amberley's house, and gradually, the relationship between Ernest and Mrs. Amberley became closer, because

Our hapless client has nothing outwardly attractive to the opposite sex, no matter how many inner virtues he may have. However, just last week, Ernest and Mrs. Amberley eloped - and disappeared. What's more terrible is that

, the frivolous wife also took away the old guy’s lock box, which contained most of Amberly’s savings. Can we help him find his wife? Can we recover his money? This is a common question for us.

, but for Amberley, it is an extremely important event."

"How are you going to start?"

"Dear Watson, it depends on what you are prepared to do - if you understand me. You know that I have started to deal with the case of two Coptic bishops, and today is the most critical point in the case. I

It was really indispensable to go to Lewisham, but the evidence at the scene was very important. Amboli repeatedly insisted that I go, but I explained my difficulties, and finally, he agreed that I would send a representative."

"Okay!" I said, "I must admit that I don't have strong confidence in being able to do this, but I am willing to do my best."

So, on this summer afternoon, I set out for Lewisham. But I had no idea that the case I was involved in would become a hot topic of discussion across the country within a week.

That night, when I returned to Baker Street to report the situation to Holmes, it was already very late. My partner stretched out his thin limbs, lay on the deep sofa, and slowly blew out smoke rings one after another from his pipe. His eyes were sleepy.

Hazy, if he hadn't half-opened his pair of sharp, shining gray eyes and looked at me with exploratory eyes when I paused or had questions during my narration, then I would have thought that he had fallen asleep.

"The name of Josiah Amberley's residence is Harbor." I introduced: "I think you will be interested, dear Holmes, Harbor is like a poor nobleman who has fallen into the lower class. You know that kind of place, with drab colors.

Brick roads, eye-wearying suburban highways, and in the midst of them all, there was an island of classical comfort, which was Amberley's home. It was surrounded by high, sun-hardened, moss-covered walls.

All around, this kind of wall—"

"Watson, don't act like you're writing poetry." My partner corrected me sternly: "It's just a high brick wall!"

"good."

If I hadn't asked a man smoking on the street, I would not have been able to find where Amboli lived. I should mention this man. He was a tall, dark-skinned man with a military look and a long beard.

In response to my inquiry, he nodded and glanced at me with a peculiar questioning look, which I still remember vividly.

"Before I entered the door, I saw Amberley walking down the driveway. This morning, I just took a quick glance at him and already felt that he was a strange old guy. In the daylight, his face looked even more abnormal.

"

"Watson, I've already studied this, but I'd still like to hear your impressions." My partner encouraged me.

"I felt that his bent waist really seemed to be bent by the hardships of life. In fact, he was not as frail as I first thought. Although his legs were slender, his shoulders and chest were thin.

The frame is very broad.”

"The shoe on his left foot was wrinkled, but his right foot was straight." "I didn't notice."

"Of course it's hard for you to notice. I found out that he uses a prosthetic leg. But please continue talking!"

"He took off his old straw hat, revealing his gray hair. His stern expression and face covered with deep wrinkles left a deep impression on me."

"Excellent, Watson. What did he say?"

He complained to me, and we walked down the driveway. Of course, I looked around carefully. I had never seen such a desolate residence. The weeds in the garden made me think that the vegetation here was

It seems that it has never been repaired, and it can be said that it has been allowed to grow freely. I really don't know how a beautiful woman can face such a desolate situation. The house is also dilapidated, and this unlucky old man seems to have noticed this.

, he was trying to renovate, and a bucket of green paint was placed in the center of the hall. He picked up a large brush and demonstrated the wooden building parts in the paint room. He took me into the dark study room, and we had a long chat.

Fan. He was quite disappointed that you didn't go.

He said: 'I dare not expect that a humble person like me, especially after my financial misfortune, can win the attention of such a famous person as Mr. Holmes.'

I told him it had nothing to do with economics.

He said: 'Of course, for Mr. Holmes, this is art for art's sake; but from the perspective of criminal art, this matter is worth studying. Dr. Watson, human nature - the worst is treachery.

Oh! Have I ever refused any request from my wife? Is there any woman who is more favored than her? And that young doctor - I treat him as my own son. He can enter and leave my house freely.

Abode. Look how they betrayed me! Oh, Doctor Watson, what a terrible... what a terrible world it is!'

This was the subject of his conversation for more than an hour. It seemed that he had never suspected that his wife would be having an affair with Dr. Ernest. Except for a maid who worked during the day and came home at 6 p.m., the couple

Living alone. On the night of the accident, in order to make his wife happy, Amberley reserved two seats on the second floor of the Haymarket Theater. Before leaving, Mrs. Amberley refused to go because she had a headache, so the old man had to be alone.

Went. It seemed that this was true. He also took out the unused ticket he bought for his wife.

"This is worthy of attention—very important," said my companion, whose interest in the matter had been aroused by my words. "Watson," he said, "please go on, your story is fascinating.

But did you check the ticket yourself? Maybe you didn't remember the number?"

"Number? Oh, I happened to remember it." I said quite proudly: "The number thirty-one happens to be the same as my student number in college, so I remember it well."

"Watson, that's great! In that case, Amberley's seat is either number 30 or number 32."

"Not bad," I said, a little confused, and we were in the second row.

"This makes me very satisfied. What else did he say? What did he do?"

"He asked me to take a look at the room he called the 'vault'. It was a real vault, just like a bank, with iron doors, iron windows, etc. He said that this was to prevent theft. However, his wife didn't know why.

The keys were copied and a total of £7,000 worth of cash and bonds were taken."

"Bonds? What do they do with them?"

"Amboli said that he had given the police a list of bonds in the hope that the bonds would not be sold. As soon as he returned home from the theater at midnight, he found that they had been stolen, the doors and windows were open, and that his wife had eloped with Ernest

. No letter or message was left, and he heard nothing from them after that. He quickly called the police."

My partner thought for a few minutes and then asked: "You said he was painting, where was he painting?"

"He is painting the hallway. The door and other wooden parts of the room I mentioned have been painted."

"Don't you think it's strange that he is doing this kind of work at this time?" I asked, and he explained it this way; 'In order to relieve the troubles and pain in their hearts, people always do something.' Of course, this

It was a bit of an anomaly, but he was an anomaly. In front of me, he tore up a photo of his wife. He tore it up in a fit of rage. He screamed: 'I never want to see that again.

That face of hers.'

"Watson, what else is going on?"

"By the way, there is another thing that left the deepest impression on me. I took the bus to Bressis Station and caught up with the train. Just as the train was starting, I found a person rushing into the door next to me.

Carriage. My dear Holmes, you are well aware of my ability to recognize faces. He is the tall, dark-skinned, bearded man with a military look that I interviewed. I saw him again at London Bridge.

Later, he disappeared into the vast sea of ​​people. But I am convinced that he was following me."

"That's right!" said my partner: "A tall, dark-skinned man with a military temperament and a big beard. Watson, tell me, is he wearing a pair of gray sunglasses?"

"Dear Holmes, you are so amazing! I did not say that he is indeed wearing a pair of sunglasses, gray ones."

"And you're still wearing your Masonic tie pin?"

"You are so good!"

"Watson, this is not complicated. Let's talk about practical matters! I admit, what I originally thought was a trite event that was not worth mentioning soon revealed its extraordinary side. Although you are on a reconnaissance mission

We have overlooked important things, but the things that have attracted your attention are worthy of our careful consideration."

"What did I overlook?"
To be continued...