Holmes," he blurted out at last,
with a very red face. "It seems to me that I have been making
a fool of myself from the beginning. I understand now, what I
should never have forgotten, that I am the pupil and you are the
master. Even now I see what you have done, but I don't know how
you did it, or what it signifies."
"Well, well," said Holmes, good-humouredly. "We all learn by
experience, and your lesson this time is that you should never
lose sight of the alternative. You were so absorbed in young
Neligan that you could not spare a thought to Patrick Cairns,
the true murderer of Peter Carey."
The hoarse voice of the seaman broke in on our conversation.
"See here, mister," said he, "I make no complaint of
being man-handled in this fashion, but I would have you call
things by their right names. You say I murdered Peter Carey;
I say I KILLED Peter Carey, and there's all the difference.
Maybe you don't believe what I say. Maybe you think I am just
slinging you a yarn."
"Not at all," said Holmes. "Let us hear what you have to say."
"It's soon told, and, by the Lord, every word of it is truth.
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