Conan Doyle. The Adventure of the Lion’s Mane (adapted for intermediate)

Слова для понимания:

• in the charge of — на попечении
• сyanea — цианея
• a tangled mass — спутанная масса волос
• torn from the mane of a lion — вырванная из гривы льва
• It may have been brought up — Ее возможно принес сюда…
• peril of the seas — морское чудовище

Arthur Conan Doyle. The Adventure of the Lion’s Mane. Part 6 (adapted for intermediate level)

Suddenly my door was flung open and Ian Murdoch staggered into the room, very pale, his clothes in wild disorder. He fell groaning upon the sofa.

“For God’s sake anything to ease this infernal agony!” he cried.

Behind him ran Stackhurst, hatless and panting.

“Yes!” he cried. “He is dying. It was all I could do to bring him here.”

Ian Murdoch swang his coat from his shoulders. The inspector and I cried out at the sight. There, crisscrossed upon the man’s naked shoulder, was the same strange red lines which had been the death-mark of Fitzroy McPherson.

The pain was evidently terrible. He breathed hard and clapped his hand to his heart, while his brow dropped beads of sweat. At any moment he might die. Pads with salad-oil seemed to take the agony from the strange wounds. At last his head fell heavily upon the pillow. He fell half asleep, at least it would ease the pain.

Stackhurst turned upon me, “My God!” he cried, “what is it, Holmes? What is it?”

“Where did you find him?”

“Down on the beach. Exactly where poor McPherson met his end. If this man’s heart had been weak as McPherson‘s was, he would not be here now.»

“Did you see him on the beach?”

“I was walking on the cliff when I heard his cry. He was at the edge of the water, shaking. I ran down, threw some clothes about him, and brought him up. For heaven’s sake, Holmes, do something and lift the curse from this place, for life is becoming unbearable.”

“I think I can, Stackhurst. Come with me now! And you, Inspector, come along! We will see if we cannot get this murderer into your hands.”

Leaving the unconscious man in the charge of my housekeeper, we all three went down to the beach. On the place we saw towels and clothes left by the man. Slowly I walked round the edge of the water, my comrades behind me. Most of the pool was quite shallow, but under the cliff there was a place, which was four or five feet deep. It was to this part that a swimmer would naturally go, for it formed a beautiful green pool as clear as crystal. A line of rocks lay above it at the base of the cliff, and I went along, looking into the water. I had reached the deepest and stillest pool when my eyes caught that for which they were searching.

“Cyanea!” I cried. “Cyanea! Behold the Lion’s Mane!”

The strange object at which I pointed did indeed look like a tangled mass torn from the mane of a lion. It lay on a place some three feet under the water, a waving, vibrating, hairy creature.

“It has done mischief enough. Its day is over!” I cried. “Help me, Stackhurst! Let us end the murderer forever.”

There was a big stone just near the water, and we pushed it until it fell with a tremendous splash into the pool. When the ripples had cleared we saw that it had gone.

“Well, this gets me!” cried the inspector. “What was it, Mr. Holmes? I’m born and bred in these parts, but I never saw such a thing. It doesn’t belong to Sussex.”

“It may have been brought up by the wind. Come back to my house, both of you, and I will give you the terrible experience of one who has good reason to remember his own meeting with the same peril of the seas.”