△点击播放音频

One morning in September 1888, a visitor came to 221B Baker Street. This was the home I shared with my friend, the famous detective Sherlock Holmes. The visitor was Miss Mary Morstan, a young woman with dark hair and brown eyes. She was dressed simply but very elegantly.

"I hope you can help me, Mr. Holmes," she said. "I am in a very strange situation, and I don't know what to do."

"Please tell me your story," said Holmes.

Miss Morstan began to explain. "These are the facts," she said. "My father, Arthur Morstan, was an officer in the Indian army. My mother died when I was young, so my father sent me back to England. I went to boarding school here. Ten years ago, my father got a year of leave from the army and came home to England. He sent me a telegram when he arrived in London, asking me to meet him at the Langham Hotel.

"When I went to the hotel, the staff told me he had gone out the night before and had not returned. I waited all day for him. When he still didn't come back, I called the police. The next morning, we put advertisements in the newspapers, but no one answered. From that day until now, I haven't heard anything about my father."

"Did you look through his luggage?" asked Holmes.

"Yes, we did," said Miss Morstan. "But we couldn't find any clues about what might have happened to him."

"Did your father have any friends in London?" Holmes asked.

"He had only one friend," replied Miss Morstan. "His name was John Sholto. He was a retired major from the same army regiment as my father. He lived in Upper Norwood. I spoke to him, but he told me he didnt even know my father was in England."

"This is a very unusual case," said Holmes.

"But I haven't told you the strangest part yet," Miss Morstan said. "Six years ago, on May 4th, 1882, I received a cardboard box in the mail. Inside the box was a large, beautiful pearl. There was no message with it. Since then, every year on the same date, I have received another box with another pearl. Each pearl is just like the first one."

"An expert told me the pearls are very rare and worth a lot of money. You can see them for yourselves." Miss Morstan opened a long, flat box. Inside were six of the most beautiful pearls I had ever seen.

"This is very interesting," said Holmes. "But why are you coming to me about it now?"

"Because this morning, I received this letter," Mary said. She handed the letter to Holmes, and he read it aloud:

Meet me outside the Lyceum Playhouse tonight at seven o'clock.

If you don’t trust me, bring two friends.

You are a wronged woman, and you will have justice.

Do not bring the police.

Your unknown friend.

"And what do you plan to do, Miss Morstan?" asked Holmes.

"I don’t know. What do you think I should do?"

"I think the three of us should go and meet this unknown friend," Holmes suggested.

After Mary left, Holmes went out for a few hours. He came back at 5:30 in a very cheerful mood.

"I’ve learned something important, Watson," Holmes said. "I looked through old newspapers and found out that Major John Sholto from Upper Norwood died on April 28, 1882."

"Why is that important?" I asked.

"Because Mary Morstan received her first pearl just one week after his death," Holmes explained. "Why would that happen? Maybe Sholto’s heir knows something about Captain Morstan’s disappearance and wants to make things right for his daughter. The letter did say Miss Morstan was a ‘wronged woman.’"

Before we could talk more, Mary’s carriage arrived to take us to the meeting. On the way, she showed us an interesting piece of paper she had found in her father’s desk.

"I’m not sure it’s important," Mary said. "But I thought you might want to see it."

Holmes took out his magnifying glass and examined the paper closely. It was a map of a large building with many hallways. One part of the map had a red cross marked on it. In the bottom right corner, there was a line of four crosses. Next to them, someone had written:

"The sign of four—Jonathan Small, Mahomet Singh, Abdullah Khan, Dost Akbar."

"Keep this safe, Miss Morstan," Holmes said. "It might be important."

When we arrived outside the Lyceum Playhouse, a small, quick-moving man came up to us.

"Miss Morstan?" he asked.

"Yes," Miss Morstan replied.

"Are either of your companions a police officer?" the man asked.

"I promise you they are not," she said.

The man gave a whistle, and a carriage arrived. He invited us to get inside. As soon as we sat down, the driver started moving quickly.

We crossed the river into South London and eventually reached an old neighborhood with plain brick houses. The carriage stopped in front of one of them. We knocked on the door, and a man let us in. He took us to a large, beautifully decorated room.

In the center of the room stood a small man with a bald head surrounded by red hair.

"Welcome!" he said. "I am Thaddeus Sholto. You must be Miss Morstan, and these gentlemen—"

Mary introduced us.

"First, Miss Morstan, I must tell you that your father has died," said Thaddeus.

Mary turned pale and sat down. "I feared that might be the case," she said quietly.

"I will tell you everything I know," Thaddeus said. "I hope it will help you find justice."

"Thank you," said Mary.

Thaddeus began his story:

"My father, Major John Sholto, retired from the Indian army 11 years ago. He became very wealthy and moved to Pondicherry Lodge in Upper Norwood. My brother Bartholomew and I lived with him in luxury, but we always felt that some danger was hanging over him. He was scared to go out alone and even hired two strong men as bodyguards. He was especially afraid of Englishmen with wooden legs.

"In early 1882, my father became very sick. One night in April, he called my brother and me to his room. He told us he was dying. ‘There’s something I must confess,’ he said. ‘It’s about Miss Morstan. Because of my greed, I never gave her the treasure that belongs to her. After I die, you must make sure she gets what she is owed.’

"My father then explained what had happened. He and Captain Morstan discovered a treasure in Agra, India. When Captain Morstan returned to England, he came to Pondicherry Lodge to claim his share of the treasure. But they argued about how to divide it. During the argument, Captain Morstan, who had a weak heart, suddenly collapsed and died.

"My father was terrified that if the police investigated, they would learn about the treasure. He was also afraid they might accuse him of killing Captain Morstan. To avoid this, he and his servant hid the body. He told us, ‘I didn’t cause his death, but I am guilty of hiding the treasure. Now, I want to tell you where it is. Come closer so I can tell you—’

"At that moment, his face filled with fear. ‘Keep him out!’ he shouted. We looked at the window where he was staring and saw a face—a terrifying, hairy face with wild, cruel eyes. We ran to the window, but the face was gone. When we returned to my father, he was dead. The shock of seeing that face must have killed him.

"We searched everywhere but found no trace of the person who had been at the window. That night, someone broke into the house and searched through my father’s cabinets and boxes. They didn’t steal anything, but they pinned a piece of paper to his chest. The paper said: ‘The sign of four.’ We didn’t know what it meant, but we guessed it was connected to the fear my father always had.

"My brother and I were excited about the treasure and searched for it everywhere in the house and garden. But we couldn’t find it. All we had was a string of beautiful pearls my father had left us. I decided to send you, Miss Morstan, one pearl each year so you could have at least some benefit from the treasure. My brother, Bartholomew, didn’t agree with me, but I did it anyway."

"Thank you," said Mary.

"It was my duty," said Thaddeus. "But my brother thought differently. We argued about it, and I left Pondicherry Lodge to live here.

"Yesterday, something incredible happened. My brother finally found the treasure! He knocked a hole in the ceiling of the highest room in the house and found a hidden space above it. Inside, he discovered the treasure. He says the jewels are worth at least half a million pounds! I contacted you right away, Miss Morstan, because you deserve your share. Now, we just need to go to Norwood and claim it. I’ve told Bartholomew we’re coming, so he’ll be expecting us—though maybe not welcoming us."

"You’ve done very well," said Holmes, jumping to his feet. "Let’s go at once."

As we traveled to Pondicherry Lodge, Thaddeus explained more about how his brother had found the treasure. He described the small hidden room in detail and spoke of the incredible value of the jewels. We could hardly wait to see it for ourselves.

Pondicherry Lodge was a big, dark house surrounded by a high stone wall. The gatekeeper, Mr. McMurdo, let us in. Inside, we found the housekeeper, Mrs. Bernstone, very upset. She looked relieved when she saw Thaddeus.

"Mr. Thaddeus, sir," she said, "your brother has locked himself in his room all day. You must go upstairs and check on him."

We left Miss Morstan to calm Mrs. Bernstone and went upstairs. Holmes knocked on Bartholomew's door, but there was no answer. The door was locked from the inside. Holmes and I threw our shoulders against it. On the second try, the door broke open with a loud crack, and we stumbled into the room.

Bartholomew was sitting in a chair with a strange smile frozen on his face. His body was stiff and cold—he had been dead for many hours.

On the table beside him was a torn piece of paper with the words:

“The sign of four.”