When the Song of the Angels is Stilled by A S Croyle

Author:A S Croyle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sherlock Holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, sherlock holmes novels, sherlock holmes fiction
ISBN: 9781780927343
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited 2015
Published: 2015-02-26T00:00:00+00:00

25

We helped Victor’s father into a chair. After delicately opening his lips with my fingers, I poured a few drops of brandy into his mouth. He tried to raise his head. We used smelling salts and a dose of cold water and he started to revive, waking with a convulsive start. His eyelids quivered, showing that there was still life within him. Then his lips moved and he groaned and a sort of creeping motion agitated his whole frame.

Victor handed him a brandy and said, “Drink, Father, drink a little brandy.”

Squire Trevor looked as if he were emerging from a trance as he took a few sips.

“I must make a note to save my flourishing surprises for my enemies,” Sherlock quipped, but clearly, he could not have been more mortified by the damage he innocently had caused. He apologized profusely as I patted Squire Trevor’s hand.

“Sir, forgive me, I meant no harm,” he said.

“Of course, of course. I know that, Mr. Holmes, and I hope I did not frighten any of you, you especially, Priscilla.”

“It is you who should be frightened, Mr. Trevor,” I said. “Such a thing must not be taken lightly. Have you had dizzy spells before?” I asked.

“No, no. No cause for alarm. I have no such predilection.”

“He has a weak heart,” Victor interjected.

“No, it’s nothing,” Squire corrected. “I was just a bit shocked, Mr. Holmes, at your ability to so accurately see what few others can. How?” he asked, gulping down most of the brandy in his glass, and then gesturing to his son to bring the decanter over to him. Victor did so, poured him another, and he took a long swallow.

“You bared your arm,” Sherlock said, “when we were out on the boat yesterday... when we were fishing. Though they were faint, one could make out the letters J.A. that had been tattooed at your elbow. It is obvious you intended to eradicate them but they are still there.”

“I am impressed, Mr. Holmes,” Squire said. “You are correct. Our old loves are ghosts who haunt us throughout our lives.” He turned to his son. “I could not have another woman’s initials on my skin when your mother... to have had her imagine me in congress with-”

Victor pressed two fingers to his father’s bluish lips. “No more, Father. We understand.”

Squire gazed at him with great love but also a wisp of disbelief. “Let us go into the billiard room and have another brandy and a good cigar,” Squire said, rising. He seemed a bit dizzy and Victor steadied him. Squire looked at Holmes, a look mixed with darkness and admiration. “Holmes, I dare say, this ability of yours is quite extraordinary.”

Holmes shrugged. “Most people look but they do not see. That’s all.”

“You would do well to master it. You can make a living at this, Sherlock Holmes. Clearly, you make it your business to know things.” He winked. “As do I... Victor told me of your efforts to complete the incredible machine that Babbage was working on before he died.

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