文档介绍：His Last Bow:An Epilogue of Sherlock Holmes
His Last Bow
By Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
1
His Last Bow:An Epilogue of Sherlock Holmes
It was nine o'clock at night upon the second of August--the most
terrible August in the history of the world. One might have thought
already that God's curse hung heavy over a degenerate world, for there
was an awesome hush and a feeling of vague expectancy in the sultry and
stagnant air. The sun had long set, but one blood-red gash like an open
wound lay low in the distant west. Above, the stars were shining brightly,
and below, the lights of the shipping glimmered in the bay. The two
famous Germans stood beside the stone parapet of the garden walk, with
the long, low, heavily gabled house behind them, and they looked down
upon the broad sweep of the beach at the foot of the great chalk cliff in
which Von Bork, like some wandering eagle, had perched himself four
years before. They stood with their heads close together, talking in low,
confidential tones. From below the two glowing ends of their cigars
might have been the smouldering eyes of some malignant fiend looking
down in the darkness.
A remarkable man this Von Bork--a man who could hardly be matched
among all the devoted agents of the Kaiser. It was his talents which had
first mended him for the English mission, the most important
mission of all, but since he had taken it over those talents had e
more and more manifest to the half-dozen people in the world who were
really in touch with the truth. One of these was his panion,
Baron Von Herling, the chief secretary of the legation, whose huge 100-
horse-power Benz car was blocking the country lane as it waited to waft
its owner back to London.
"So far as I can judge the trend of events, you will probably be back in
Berlin within the week," the secretary was saying. "When you get there,
my dear Von Bork, I think you will be surprised at the e you will
receive. I happen to know what is thought in the