me what happened, we shall leave you in peace. Otherwise I fear we must take you directly to the police.”
She stood quickly, the brandy tumbling onto her dress, the glass rolling onto the floor. “No! Not that! Please, sir...”
Holmes had thrust the revolver back into his coat pocket. He extended his right hand, palm up. “The note, then. We do not want to alarm your aunt unnecessarily.”
She swayed briefly, and I seized her shoulders with both hands. I was accustomed to Michelle, and by contrast, there seemed almost nothing to this girl. I doubt she weighed more than eighty pounds. Perhaps she was consumptive. “Sherlock!” I exclaimed. “Be merciful—she is only a child.”
“She is no child, and she was hardly merciful to Lord Harrington. Now get me that note.”
She drew in her breath, and I released her. Her eyes still glistened with tears. “Thank you,” she mumbled. She walked over to a bureau, opened the bottom drawer, dug around a bit, and then withdrew afolded piece of paper. She handed it to Sherlock.
“Please sit down,” he said.
She collapsed into the chair and began to weep in earnest. Sherlock opened the note. I stood behind him where I could read it. The writing was very small and filled the entire page.
My dear Harriet,
When you read this, I shall be no more. Forgive me, my dearest, but my life has become such an agony that I can no longer bear it. This seems the only way out, the only honorable refuge after so dishonoring you, myself, and my friends.
Should anyone approach you after my death with stories about my baseness, know that in my heart of hearts, I have loved you and you alone. I have been weak; I have been heir to the sins of the flesh that so beset Adam’s descendants; but you have always been my inspiration, a beacon of light and virtue shining through in all this wretched darkness. Words cannot convey the disgust I feel toward myself for my actions. I cannot explain why a man with a wife such as you would fall into the mire. The weakness is mine and mine alone. Do not blame yourself, my darling. I bear sole responsibility. Had I been stronger, had I not erred at an early age, perhaps I could have resisted the devil, but I could never forbear wicked pleasures. Now I pay the price for my worldly sins. If only I had followed my angel, none of this would ever have happened. No one else ever meant anything to me. Always remember, my dearest wife, that you and you alone were the one true love of my life.
As for my friends, I hope they too can forgive me, for I fear I have let loose a devil amongst them. This demon took advantage of my weaknesses. He made me a fortune, knowing full well he meant to reclaim it, and he introduced me to the harlot who would ensure my downfall. I cannot be certain, but I believe he is planning the general ruin of others. Denounce ________ my dearest. The children of Israel are known for their rapaciousness, but no Jew exults so in the destruction of their victims. It is all money with them. Not so with this ghoul, this vampire: he most desires blood, not money. Warn the others to have a care. He and that gypsy must truly be infernal agents. I can fight them and my own weak nature no longer. I pray that some day the Almighty and you, my dearest, will forgive me.
With all my love,
Joseph
I shook my head. “The poor, tortured devil.”
Holmes had finished reading before I had. His lips twisted. “His brother was correct about his being long-winded. Little wonder he could not accept a note which said merely, ‘I cannot go on.’”
I shook my head. “Have you no heart at all?”
“I have heart enough, but my brain grows weary with human stupidity. All these professions of love—what good are they coming from a dead man? If he loved his wife so much, why did he not live? These pathetic, trite scrawlings are small consolation indeed.” He turned to the girl weeping on the chair. “We are nearly finished, Miss Morris, but you must honestly
She stood quickly, the brandy tumbling onto her dress, the glass rolling onto the floor. “No! Not that! Please, sir...”
Holmes had thrust the revolver back into his coat pocket. He extended his right hand, palm up. “The note, then. We do not want to alarm your aunt unnecessarily.”
She swayed briefly, and I seized her shoulders with both hands. I was accustomed to Michelle, and by contrast, there seemed almost nothing to this girl. I doubt she weighed more than eighty pounds. Perhaps she was consumptive. “Sherlock!” I exclaimed. “Be merciful—she is only a child.”
“She is no child, and she was hardly merciful to Lord Harrington. Now get me that note.”
She drew in her breath, and I released her. Her eyes still glistened with tears. “Thank you,” she mumbled. She walked over to a bureau, opened the bottom drawer, dug around a bit, and then withdrew afolded piece of paper. She handed it to Sherlock.
“Please sit down,” he said.
She collapsed into the chair and began to weep in earnest. Sherlock opened the note. I stood behind him where I could read it. The writing was very small and filled the entire page.
My dear Harriet,
When you read this, I shall be no more. Forgive me, my dearest, but my life has become such an agony that I can no longer bear it. This seems the only way out, the only honorable refuge after so dishonoring you, myself, and my friends.
Should anyone approach you after my death with stories about my baseness, know that in my heart of hearts, I have loved you and you alone. I have been weak; I have been heir to the sins of the flesh that so beset Adam’s descendants; but you have always been my inspiration, a beacon of light and virtue shining through in all this wretched darkness. Words cannot convey the disgust I feel toward myself for my actions. I cannot explain why a man with a wife such as you would fall into the mire. The weakness is mine and mine alone. Do not blame yourself, my darling. I bear sole responsibility. Had I been stronger, had I not erred at an early age, perhaps I could have resisted the devil, but I could never forbear wicked pleasures. Now I pay the price for my worldly sins. If only I had followed my angel, none of this would ever have happened. No one else ever meant anything to me. Always remember, my dearest wife, that you and you alone were the one true love of my life.
As for my friends, I hope they too can forgive me, for I fear I have let loose a devil amongst them. This demon took advantage of my weaknesses. He made me a fortune, knowing full well he meant to reclaim it, and he introduced me to the harlot who would ensure my downfall. I cannot be certain, but I believe he is planning the general ruin of others. Denounce ________ my dearest. The children of Israel are known for their rapaciousness, but no Jew exults so in the destruction of their victims. It is all money with them. Not so with this ghoul, this vampire: he most desires blood, not money. Warn the others to have a care. He and that gypsy must truly be infernal agents. I can fight them and my own weak nature no longer. I pray that some day the Almighty and you, my dearest, will forgive me.
With all my love,
Joseph
I shook my head. “The poor, tortured devil.”
Holmes had finished reading before I had. His lips twisted. “His brother was correct about his being long-winded. Little wonder he could not accept a note which said merely, ‘I cannot go on.’”
I shook my head. “Have you no heart at all?”
“I have heart enough, but my brain grows weary with human stupidity. All these professions of love—what good are they coming from a dead man? If he loved his wife so much, why did he not live? These pathetic, trite scrawlings are small consolation indeed.” He turned to the girl weeping on the chair. “We are nearly finished, Miss Morris, but you must honestly
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