Season II Episode X - The Sign of Four - Part Four
Oct 2, 2026 · 27 min · 9 segments
Oct 2, 2026 · 27 min · 9 segments
The police had brought a cab with them, and in this Watson had escorted Miss Morstan back to her home.
He later described his impressions of the journey.
After the angelic fashion of women, she had borne trouble with a calm face, as long as there was someone weaker than herself to support, and I had found her bright and placid by the side of the frightened housekeeper.
In the cab, however, she first turned faint, and then burst into a passion of weeping, so sorely had she been tried by the adventures of the night.
She has told me since that night that she thought me cold and distant upon that journey.
She little guessed the struggle within my breast, or the effort of self-restraint which held me back.
My sympathies and my love went out to her, even as my hand had in the garden.
I felt that years of conventionalities of life could not teach me how to know her sweet, brave nature as this one day of strange experience has had.
Yet, there were two thoughts which sealed the words of affection upon my lips.
She was weak and helpless, shaken in mind and nerve.
It was so to take her at a disadvantage, to obtrude love upon her at such a time.
Worse still, she was rich.
If Holmes' researches were successful, she would be an heiress.
Was it fair, was it honorable, that a half-pay surgeon should take such advantage of the intimacy which chance had brought about? Might she not look upon me as a mere vulgar fortune-seeker? I could not bear to risk that such a thought should cross her mind.
This agra-treasure intervened like an impassable barrier between us.
It was nearly two o'clock when we reached Mrs. Cecil Forrester's.
The servants had retired hours ago, but Mrs. Forrester had been so interested by the strange message which Miss Morstan had received that she had sat up in the hope of her return.
She opened the door herself, a middle-aged, graceful woman, and it gave me joy to see how tenderly her arms stole round the other's waist, and how motherly was the voice which greeted her.
I was introduced, and Mrs. Forrester earnestly begged me to step in and tell her our adventure.
I explained, however, the importance of my errand, and promised faithfully to call and report any progress which we might make with the case.
As we drove away, I stole a glance back, and I still seemed to see that little group on the step.
The two graceful, clinging figures, the half-open door, the hall light shining through stained glass, the barometer and the bright steer rods.
It was soothing to catch even that passing glimpse of a tranquil English home in the midst of the wild, dark business which had absorbed us.
And had I more thought of what had happened, the wilder and darker it grew.
The police had brought a cab with them, and in this Watson had escorted Miss Morstan back to her home.
He later described his impressions of the journey.
After the angelic fashion of women, she had borne trouble with a calm face, as long as there was someone weaker than herself to support, and I had found her bright and placid by the side of the frightened housekeeper.
In the cab, however, she first turned faint, and then burst into a passion of weeping, so sorely had she been tried by the adventures of the night.
She has told me since that night that she thought me cold and distant upon that journey.
She little guessed the struggle within my breast, or the effort of self-restraint which held me back.
My sympathies and my love went out to her, even as my hand had in the garden.
I felt that years of conventionalities of life could not teach me how to know her sweet, brave nature as this one day of strange experience has had.
Yet, there were two thoughts which sealed the words of affection upon my lips.
She was weak and helpless, shaken in mind and nerve.
It was so to take her at a disadvantage, to obtrude love upon her at such a time.
Worse still, she was rich.
If Holmes' researches were successful, she would be an heiress.
Was it fair, was it honorable, that a half-pay surgeon should take such advantage of the intimacy which chance had brought about? Might she not look upon me as a mere vulgar fortune-seeker? I could not bear to risk that such a thought should cross her mind.
This agra-treasure intervened like an impassable barrier between us.
It was nearly two o'clock when we reached Mrs. Cecil Forrester's.
The servants had retired hours ago, but Mrs. Forrester had been so interested by the strange message which Miss Morstan had received that she had sat up in the hope of her return.
She opened the door herself, a middle-aged, graceful woman, and it gave me joy to see how tenderly her arms stole round the other's waist, and how motherly was the voice which greeted her.
I was introduced, and Mrs. Forrester earnestly begged me to step in and tell her our adventure.
I explained, however, the importance of my errand, and promised faithfully to call and report any progress which we might make with the case.
As we drove away, I stole a glance back, and I still seemed to see that little group on the step.
The two graceful, clinging figures, the half-open door, the hall light shining through stained glass, the barometer and the bright steer rods.
It was soothing to catch even that passing glimpse of a tranquil English home in the midst of the wild, dark business which had absorbed us.
And had I more thought of what had happened, the wilder and darker it grew.
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