CASSETTE
AVAILABLE
SHERLOCK HOLMES
SHORT STORIES
Sherlock Holmes is the greatest
detective of them all. He sits in his
room, and smokes his pipe. He
listens, and watches, and thinks. He
listens to the steps coming up his
stairs; he watches the door opening
— and he knows what question the
stranger will ask.
In these three of his best stories,
Holmes has three visitors to the
famous flat in Baker Street — visitors
who bring their troubles to the only
man in the world who can help them.
OXFORD BOOKWORMS
take students
through six stages towards real
reading in English. Each one has been
chosen for its enjoyment value and
its quality of writing.
Cover illustration by Alan Morrison
Oxford University Press
ISBN 0 - 1 9 - 4 2 1 6 5 0 - 0
Sherlock Holmes
Short
Stories
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
retold by
Clare West
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
The Speckled Band
1
Helen's Story
At the time of this story, I was still living at my friend
Sherlock Holmes's flat in Baker Street in London. Very
early one morning, a young woman, dressed in black,
came to see us. She looked tired and unhappy, and her
face was very white. 'I'm afraid! Afraid of death,
Mr Holmes!' she cried. 'Please help me! I'm not thirty
yet and look at my grey hair! I'm so afraid!'
Very early one morning, a young woman, dressed in black,
came to see us.
2 Sherlock Holmes Short Stories
'Just sit down and tell us your story,' said Holmes
kindly.
'My name is Helen Stoner,' she began, 'and I live
with my stepfather, Dr Grimesby Roylott, near a
village in the country. His family was once very rich,
but they had no money when my stepfather was born.
So he studied to be a doctor, and went out to India. He
met and married my mother there, when my sister Julia
and I were very young. Our father was dead, you see.'
'Your mother had some money, perhaps?' asked
Sherlock Holmes.
'Oh yes, mother had a lot of money, so my
stepfather wasn't poor any more.'
'Tell me more about him, Miss Stoner,' said Holmes.
'Well, he's a violent man. In India he once got
angry with his Indian servant and killed him! He had
to go to prison because of that, and then we all came
back to England. Mother died in an accident eight
years ago. So my stepfather got all her money, but if
Julia or I marry, he must pay us £250 every year.'
'And now you live with him in the country,' said
Holmes.
'Yes, but he stays at home and never sees anybody,
Mr Holmes!' answered Helen Stoner. 'He's more and
more violent now, and sometimes has fights with the
people from the village. Everybody's afraid of him
now, and they run away when they see him. And
they're also afraid of his Indian wild animals which
The Speckled Band
3
run freely around the garden. A friend sends them to
him from India. And the animals are not the only wild
things in the garden; there are also gipsies. My
stepfather likes these wild people, and they can come
and go where they like. Poor Julia and I had very
unhappy lives. We had no servants. They always left
because they were afraid of my stepfather, and we had
to do all the work in the house. Julia was only thirty
when she died, and her hair was already grey, like my
hair now.'
'When did she die?' asked Sherlock Holmes.
'She died two years ago, and that's why I'm here. We
never met anybody in the country, but sometimes we
visited some of my family who live near London. There
Julia met a young man who asked to marry her. My
stepfather agreed, but soon after this she died.' Miss
Stoner put her hand over her eyes and cried for a
minute.
Sherlock Holmes was listening with his eyes closed,
but now he opened them and looked at Helen Stoner.
'Tell me everything about her death,' he said.
'I can remember it all very well. It was a terrible
time!' she answered. 'Our three bedrooms are all
downstairs. First there is my stepfather's room. Julia's
room is next to his, and my room is next to Julia's. The
rooms all have windows on the garden side of the
house, and doors which open into the corridor. One
evening our stepfather was smoking his strong Indian
4 Sherlock Holmes Short Stories
cigarettes in his room. Julia couldn't sleep because she
could smell them in her room, so she came into my
room to talk to me. Before she went back to bed, she
said to me, "Helen, have you ever heard a whistle in
the middle of the night?"
I was surprised. " N o , " I said.
"It's strange," she said. "Sometimes I hear a whistle,
but I don't know where it comes from. Why don't you
hear it?"
I laughed and said, "I sleep better than you d o . " So
Julia went to her room, and locked the door after her.'
'Why did you lock your doors?' asked Sherlock
Holmes.
'We were afraid of the wild animals, and the gipsies,'
she answered.
'Please go on,' said Holmes.
'I couldn't sleep that night. It was a very stormy
night, with a lot of wind and rain. Suddenly I heard a
woman's scream. It was my sister's voice. I ran into the
corridor, and just then I heard a whistle, and a minute
later the sound of falling metal. I didn't know what it
was. I ran to my sister's door. She opened it and fell to
the ground. Her face was white and afraid, and she
was crying, "Help me, help me, Helen, I'm ill, I'm
dying!" I put my arms around her, and she cried out in
a terrible voice: "Helen! Oh my God, Helen! It was the
band! The speckled band!" She wanted to say more,
but she couldn't. I called my stepfather, who tried to
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