Solitary Cyclist Page 11
Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle
"We had a license for the marriage. I have it here in my pocket." "Then you got it by a trick. But in any case a
forced marriage is no marriage, but it is a very serious felony, as you will discover before you have finished.
You'll have time to think the point out during the next ten years or so, unless I am mistaken. As to you,
Carruthers, you would have done better to keep your pistol in your pocket." "I begin to think so, Mr.
Holmes; but when I thought of all the precaution I had taken to shield this girl -- for I loved her, Mr. Holmes,
and it is the only time that ever I knew what love was -- it fairly drove me mad to think that she was in the
power of the greatest brute and bully in South Africa, a man whose name is a holy terror from Kimberley to
Johannesburg. Why, Mr. Holmes, you'll hardly believe it, but ever since that girl has been in my employment
I never once let her go past this house, where I knew these rascals were lurking, without following her on
my bicycle just to see that she came to no harm. I kept my distance from her, and I wore a beard so that
she should not recognise me, for she is a good and high-spirited girl, and she wouldn't have stayed in my
employment long if she had thought that I was following her about the country roads."
"Why didn't you tell her of her danger?" "Because then, again, she would have left me, and I couldn't bear
to face that. Even if she couldn't love me it was a great deal to me just to see her dainty form about the
house, and to hear the sound of her voice." "Well," said I, "you call that love, Mr. Carruthers, but I should
call it selfishness." "Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn't let her go. Besides, with this
crowd about, it was well that she should have someone near to look after her. Then when the cable came I
knew they were bound to make a move." "What cable?" Carruthers took a telegram from his pocket. "That's
it," said he. It was short and concise:-- "The old man is dead." "Hum!" said Holmes. "I think I see how things
worked, and I can understand how this message would, as you say, bring them to a head. But while we wait
you might tell me what you can."
The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volley of bad language. "By Heaven," said he, "if you squeal
on us, Bob Carruthers, I'll serve you as you served Jack Woodley. You can bleat about the girl to your heart's
content, for that's your own affair, but if you round on your pals to this plain-clothes copper it will be the
worst day's work that ever you did." "Your reverence need not be excited," said Holmes, lighting a cigarette.
"The case is clear enough against you, and all I ask is a few details for my private curiosity. However, if
there's any difficulty in your telling me I'll do the talking, and then you will see how far you have a chance of
holding back your secrets. In the first place, three of you came from South Africa on this game -- you
Williamson, you Carruthers, and Woodley." "Lie number one," said the old man; "I never saw either of them
until two months ago, and I have never been in Africa in my life, so you can put that in your pipe and smoke
it, Mr. Busybody Holmes!" "What he says is true," said Carruthers.