"They are
shot, both Mr. Hilton Cubitt and his wife. She shot him and
then herself -- so the servants say. He's dead and her life
is despaired of. Dear, dear, one of the oldest families in the
County of Norfolk, and one of the most honoured."
Without a word Holmes hurried to a carriage, and during the long
seven miles' drive he never opened his mouth. Seldom have I
seen him so utterly despondent. He had been uneasy during all
our journey from town, and I had observed that he had turned
over the morning papers with anxious attention; but now this
sudden realization of his worst fears left him in a blank
melancholy. He leaned back in his seat, lost in gloomy
speculation. Yet there was much around to interest us,
for we were passing through as singular a country-side as
any in England, where a few scattered cottages represented
the population of to-day, while on every hand enormous
square-towered churches bristled up from the flat, green
landscape and told of the glory and prosperity of old East
Anglia. At last the violet rim of the German Ocean appeared
over the green edge of the Norfolk coast, and the driver pointed
with his whip to two old brick and timber gables which projected
from a grove of trees.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124