[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(God's perspective)

When Holmes walked towards the living room, he met Nightingale who had just come out of the living room, and stopped in front of her.The two looked at each other, as if the two sides of the water with the turbulent waves gathered in one place.Nightingale pursed her lips tightly.

"Have you spoken to her?" asked Holmes succinctly.

"straightforward."

"Then the dust has settled."

"Actually, I really can't imagine that one day you will be furious at me because the child is crying too much and interrupting your thinking." Nightingale said with a half-smile, "Or the two of us will fight to grab a case instead of cleaning the room. "

"Of course not."

At this moment, Nightingale muttered something in a low voice, but Holmes couldn't hear it clearly, and frowned slightly, leaning over to get closer, but he caught on.Nightingale put her hands on his chest, raised her head and kissed his lips, like a person jumping off a cliff into the deep sea without hesitation, letting the water cover her head.He is cold, she really felt it while kissing deeply, he is cold.

Holmes froze, his gray eyes suddenly opened wide, with an expression of calm being shaken, even about to be broken, as if restraining the sudden pain, a tinge of redness appeared on his pale face, but very Almost back to normal.

Nightingale let go of him slowly.

"Pack up your things," said Holmes clearly, "and we will return to London."

"What?" Nightingale froze for a moment, and the sudden flush on her cheeks showed that she had actually understood the message.

"Let's catch the afternoon train."

"But the case is not over yet, we still need to testify in court, there are still many things..."

"It will take a long time to investigate Bryant's unsolved cases, which are beyond our scope of responsibility. I asked Jones to put our part aside, and leave Yorkshire for a few days anyway."

"I don't have anything," Nightingale said, "that's how I got here. I'll take this book home as a souvenir."

"Very good, you wait for me at the door. I will say goodbye to them. Nightingale, you..."

"I'll wait." Nightingale said.

"Leaving now? Now?!" Violet yelled and stood up from the sofa. "Sherlock, this is too much. I wish you hadn't come back. This is too much."

"I did not come to the Manor for the sake of the Manor," said Holmes calmly.

"You think I don't know what you're up to," said old Mrs. Holmes, trembling. "You want us to see how powerful she is, and how suitable she has been with you for many years. You are still not smart enough, and you have gone in the wrong direction."

"I didn't think about it. You worry too much."

"I just want to say one thing, Sherlock." Violet raised her head and stared at her son, "If one day I hear that you are married to this woman, never appear in front of me."

"You don't need to worry about that, mother." Holmes smiled slightly mockingly, as if his mother had made a big joke.

"Oh?" Violet's expression softened a little.

"I'll still be in London and she'll be in Manchester. There are some things that haven't been with me since the day I left home."

"Don't tell me you're going to sully your name with such a disgraceful connection," said Mrs. Holmes coldly.

"No, mother, it's a paradox. Rituals mean nothing to me, but without them I have no rights or obligations to her. So I don't have an answer yet."

"Sherlock, if you're with her, I don't care how." Violet sat down again, "Neither your father nor I will forgive."

"Old Mr. Holmes doesn't care about anything about me anymore. But I'm sorry to make you sad, mother."

Holmes took a deep breath, walked up to Violet, hesitated for a while, and finally bent down and kissed her thin cheek lightly.

"You need to get out of here and get some air, mother, and Mycroft will arrange for you. The vibe isn't good for you. London is fine, you don't know how many times a day Mrs. Hudson dusts off the furniture. But If you can't find someone to accompany you, in fact, we can also..."

Violet suddenly hugged Holmes who hadn't got up in time, buried her head on his shoulder and cried.Holmes crouched down before her and held her lightly, feeling her shocking lightness in his hands.

"I don't care, Sherlock," she said, sobbing. "I've known it's useless to say anything. The world away from the Manor is your own, and you've taken it from us by force. But she will love You, she must love you."

"Well, well, my dear old Mrs. Holmes, you drove me away from the manor with such sensational chatter back then. Now be quiet for a while, and everything will be all right." Holmes said in a relieved tone, light gray There was a warm emotion in his eyes.The old lady wiped away her tears, and Holmes hugged her again.At this moment the maid knocked on the door.

"Mr. Holmes are still waiting for Mr. Holmes at the door—both Mr. Holmes. I mean, the old gentleman and Mr. Sherringford Holmes."

"Let them wait. Sherlock, can't you wait two more days?"

"No, mother. But now you can write to the estate in a fair manner."

Violet kissed her son.

"Thank you, Sherlock. You saved us all."

The golden sun illuminated the entire land of North Riding.Holmes, who was dressed in black, was carrying a suitcase, slowed down his pace, and looked at the cross of the chapel gleaming in the light. His gray eyes were as bright as dew, and he was thoughtful.There is no such good air in London.Nightingale, who was all gray, put on thin gloves, stroked the brim of his hat, and looked at his profile.

"Holmes, what's the matter?"

The detective stopped, put the box in his hand on the ground, and still got up and stared at the church.Nightingale seemed to see a little pilgrimage-like serenity in his eyes.

"There are still a few buses in the afternoon, and there is plenty of time to go by taxi. Don't you want to go to the church before you leave, Nightingale?"

"Why don't you go back to London and see St. Paul's?"

"This is the church I went to every week when I was a kid."

There was a touch of inexplicable emotion in Holmes' voice.Nightingale hesitated for a moment, but did not speak.

"The old pastor I loved since I was a child is still alive, and we can still see him when we go to church."

Nightingale turned her eyes to the church in astonishment.Holmes stared back at her.

"Holmes, are you sure?" she said with some difficulty.

"I'm sure."

"You know it's not going to work for either of us."

"No in theory. But in fact, I still believe that the contract is sacred. That is to say, before the contract is formed, I have no rights or obligations to you. You have no rights to me either."

After saying this, Holmes pursed his lips a little bit restrainedly.

"Then may I ask what made you make up your mind, sir?"

"You have just been on a whim," said Holmes, sighing in a low voice. "Then I think I have no patience to wait for today."

Nightingale's astonished expression lasted until Holmes picked up the box again and nudged her.

"Can the lady give the gentleman an answer?"

"You know what the answer is, sir."

"I seem to have misspoken. The word 'lady' is not very precise."

"To prove that you are a gentleman (gentleman), you have to be gentle enough. But we still lack a witness."

"There will be others in the church, just grab one."

"And at least I still have the right to ask for a ring."

"It was there, but you gave it to Watson yourself."

"Forget it, I don't mind this."

"Let's go back to London."

"I won't wear it out."

"It doesn't matter which hand you wear it on."

"It's a word."

"I think these years have finally had a satisfactory result."

"I must have caused a lot of unnecessary things over the years."

"Completely correct."

"Then you... Hey! What's the matter with you?"

Holmes stopped within an inch of her, and whispered softly in her ear: "Oh, excuse me, I forgot that the vicar hadn't announced that I could."

After the beautiful figures of the two detectives left the church, they never talked about it with anyone.Holmes himself is tight-lipped about this, and the whole dialogue is pieced together by Watson from Nightingale's playful bits and pieces.Neither of them said a word about what happened in church.There is actually no record of this possibility in the church. Perhaps the parties concerned wholeheartedly believed in the sanctity of the contract and requested an exception not to leave any written words.The old vicar of North Riding was long gone.Unwilling to give up on the bottom line, the investigators finally found the only living witness who happened to be caught by two detectives in the church at that time to perfect the legitimacy of the ceremony.He was only a little boy about ten years old at the time. According to him, the gentleman gave him a pound of gold and asked him to stand by for a while. The old priest seemed not too satisfied with this childish witness, but Holmes Hardly persuaded him to continue reluctantly.Perhaps out of his personal loyalty to Holmes and Nightingale, the witness said that it had been too long to remember the details. When asked to clarify whether there was an extremely simple wedding at that time, he simply replied: "I know I told you everything." We now know that the boy was named Bernard Jones.

Probably no one else can complete this story.

But in the end we can fill in such a picture again.Maybe it was fate. Dr. Watson and Merry had just come back late from watching a play that day. Of course, maybe it was the Schlesinger Troupe. The doctor didn't elaborate.The actor who played Jonathan really changed the troupe in order to have a good relationship with Mina's actor without violating discipline.They were walking down the street at night and saw two familiar figures approaching from a distance.The dim street lamps were still shining tiredly, and the tall and straight figure of the detective stood out in the darkness.Holmes was still carrying the suitcase in one hand and put the other in his pocket. With his back to the lights of London, he presented a beautiful silhouette in the eyes of Watson and his wife.The woman next to him held the hat in her hand, threw it into the air from time to time like a child, and then raised her hand to catch it. Her face was half-hidden in the dim light, gentle and calm, just like a beauty in an oil painting.The doctor was a little surprised and felt that the pace of these two people was not steady, as if they were a little drunk, or they had just experienced something important.He and Merry were not intoxicated by the streetlights of London like those two, stopping to watch them approach.At that moment, the doctor suddenly hoped to keep this scene for the two people on the opposite side.

We only know that Angela Nightingale was a nightingale all her life, and she never called Holmes by any other name than "Holmes".

The author has something to say: This volume has really gone smoothly beyond expectations.

Let's put it this way, children's shoes who want a perfect ending can simply take this as the ending, because the author who doesn't like to use the wedding as a ending weapon will mess up things in the next volume, and the real ending will explain the final result of the characters one time.Although it cannot be said to be a tragedy, it will not be too idealistic.Bernard Jones was the detective's son, in this case the Scotland Yard Jones' nephew, in case people don't remember.

☆、Who is Hamish? Who is Sherlock Holmes?

The author has something to say: This part has been written long ago, but the author has been hesitant to release it.After all, it is extremely difficult to deal with the part about children mentioned by the same person who wrote it, and it is OOC, so I finally decided to release it as a side story.Children's shoes that can accept this approach can be used as part of the main text, and those who feel that it is inconsistent can be used as the author's brainstorming episode to enliven the atmosphere.A little sloppy and then scroll down to get back on track.In the next few days, the author will go on a trip, and the rhythm of the daily update of the small universe will be released first.

Dr. Watson's records of Sherlock Holmes are blank from the end of 1895 to the end of 1896, which many researchers call "the missing year".Some people think that for some reason, he returned to Mycroft Manor, where he had not returned for many years, to clear the murder charge for his elder brother Sherringford Holmes.

When sorting out the materials, the barber found that Nightingale's diary was cut off almost at the same time, and some scattered mood records were removed, and it was not until three years later that it was restored to the form of work notes.Amateur writers suspect she still has at least one diary not kept with the others, perhaps lost.The simultaneous disappearance of the two from Baker Street for quite some time got the young writer thinking.He didn't ask the doctor right away, but repeatedly looked through the records around 1895, hoping to find some clues from Nightingale's emotional and literary diary, but this was not reliable.Sitting blankly in front of a table full of manuscripts for a long time, the barber turned to the doctor sitting behind him with his eyes closed and meditating:

"So they were both at Mycroft Park at the time?"

The doctor smiled.

"Correct."

The question of whether Holmes has children is on the agenda again.

This absurd topic has always been happily explored by researchers.Usually the first thing that comes to mind is Irene Adler who is far away in the United States.Some people think that she broke up with Godfrey Norton, because Norton was actually a bad man who squandered her fortune and forced her to return to the opera stage.She reunited with Holmes during the Great Gap and had a romance.Later, her child was born and raised in the United States, and someone verified that the American detective Nero Wolfe was the son of Sherlock Holmes...

But we think that, with Irene Adler's wisdom, it is not impossible to see Godfrey Norton clearly, and it is impossible for Irene to marry a scoundrel.Not to mention that with the mutual respect and love between Holmes and Irene, it is hard to imagine that there will be love between them-this point Watson explained with a rare seriousness in 221B.

After combing by the doctor, the hairdresser finally restored the process like this.

Nightingale had rarely been seen on Baker Street since settling in Manchester.Even the amazing drama of "Dracula" can't change the situation that she and Holmes are incompatible.Although there was a lot of trouble in London at the time, it did not publicly give any expected results in the end.When Holmes traveled around the world, no one knew where he went.But generally speaking, if Nightingale returned to Baker Street once in a while, it meant that he would not appear again for at least three months.

So one time when Nightingale made an exception and appeared frequently, Dr. Watson who opened the door was taken aback.

"Nightingale? What's the matter?"

"Thank goodness you're in Baker Street."

She deftly took off her coat and hung it at the door, and walked straight into the living room, letting Mrs. Hudson, who rushed over to see what was going on, evade for a while.Watson closed the door and said to her:

"Holmes is upstairs. I will fetch him."

"Wait a minute, doctor, it's easier to talk to you first."

Watson sat down facing her in surprise.

"We try not to speak as friends," Nightingale put her hands on her knees, and Watson noticed that she was subconsciously clutching her handbag, "but doctors and patients."

"What's the matter?" Watson blurted out in surprise. He couldn't see anything wrong from her face. "Have you seen a doctor?"

"I'm seeing a doctor right now."

"The equipment is in the clinic, if you..."

Nightingale gently raised her hand to interrupt him.

"I know what's going on."

"no……"

"You think it's complicated." She continued vaguely. "For Holmes, it can be said that he has gotten into trouble, although it has not happened to me—Watson, you can be less stunned."

"You...you mean you..."

Nightingale's expression was calm, but at the same time, she unconsciously put a hand on her chest.

"Are you sure now?" the doctor asked a little embarrassed.

Nightingale didn't speak, and raised her eyes slightly to look at the ceiling, then she turned her eyes to Watson.The doctor stood up from his chair.

"Understood," his voice became more relaxed, he rolled up his sleeves casually, and flexed his ten knuckles, "Nightingale, although the conversation we just had was between a doctor and a patient, you came here as a friend." If you are looking for me, you can't use the doctor's method to solve this matter. Just wait for me for a while. "

Nightingale still didn't answer.

Watson went up the stairs, knocked on the door of Holmes' room, pushed the door open and walked in without waiting for permission from the people inside.Holmes was in front of the desk worrying about something, tapping a pen, when Watson broke in suddenly, which made him a little puzzled.

"Is there something wrong?" He put the pen on the table and stood up. "You don't look well."

Watson smiled brightly, as if asking: Are you talking about me?

Holmes immediately realized what Watson's gentle smile and silence meant, but he failed to explain the reason immediately this time, and he did not expect that Watson would take extreme measures without warning—the doctor stepped forward a few times Without a second's delay, a heavy blow came, and the defenseless Holmes slammed backwards against the desk.The detective touched the cheek that was hit, and was generally calm, looking at Watson in disbelief.

"Don't worry, this is not what she asked for. She can't bear to hurt this face that has been hurt in the past."

"what?"

"Ah, you don't know who I'm talking about?" Watson lowered his head and put down his sleeves, smoothing his own cuffs.Then, before Holmes could speak, Watson suddenly raised his left hand and gave him a symmetry.

"Oh...is it her business?"

"God knows who it could be!"

"..."

"It is a pity that I have shown so much mistrust of you," said the doctor, standing up, "but if what you are about to say may hurt her, I suggest that she wait a little longer in the drawing room."

"It's a pity that you don't trust me so much." Holmes said helplessly. "I almost understood when you punched me the first time, and I had already figured out what to do when you punched me the second time."

"?"

"Take her to Yorkshire," said the detective, putting his hand on the doorknob, "to the Manor."

"Will you marry her?"

If I knew this, I should have told the doctor... No, no, Watson is not good at hiding things, at least he would tell Mrs. Hudson, and then the whole world would know.

"Say more."

"Are you going with her?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Because he cut off contact with his family more than ten years ago. Although he made meritorious service during the period, he had a big quarrel with a certain woman. Now he suddenly came home with an unborn child. Old Mr. Holmes insisted on chasing after him in the manor with a gun. I can't beat you."

"But think about it, my dear Watson." Holmes smiled unnaturally. "If only she and the child are allowed to go to the manor, the old gentleman will come directly to Baker Street with his gun."

"It's nothing to hit you, let's pray to God not to hurt her."

"Sometimes, Watson, I wish you would say less. Our old Mr. and Mrs. Holmes lose their intelligence when they meet a child."

"and many more."

The detective looked back helplessly at the doctor who stopped him again.

"I overreacted just now...I'm sorry."

"Nothing, Watson. I beg you not to speak now. My punishment is waiting for me downstairs."

"What's the matter, Watson?"

"Let's go now?"

"Of course. I'll have to work if I stay in London. She should go to the country. Of course if I stay in London I can give her to you."

"You can't do that even if you want to," Watson said bluntly. "This is not the profession of a military doctor."

"Relax, doctor. If it's a boy we'll name him Hamish."

"What about a girl? Angela or Merry?"

"This is really a question worth thinking about."

"Just Martha. Don't change the subject, will you?"

Holmes smiled.Mrs. Hudson sounds like a pretty good name, too.

"It seems that it is really impossible to deduce it with common sense." Watson took a deep breath, "Actually, I would like to believe you two, and I have believed it for almost half my life. If you need help, Mei Li and I are always at your service .Merry's body cannot have children...so, you understand..."

"I see."

Nightingale smiled.From the woman's face, Watson still saw the bright smile of the girl ten years ago when she faced the intricate problems.

"Shake hands, doctor," she said in a high voice. "I never let friends, but Holmes is generally reassuring. All will be well."

Watson gently held Nightingale's hand, which was now a little rough from the potion.

"I've got to say good-bye to Mrs. Hudson. Give me an idea, should I tell her? I bet she'll cry."

"Better not," said the doctor despondently. "Mrs. Hudson will take her rolling pin and rush upstairs to fight Holmes as hard as she can. A dozen revolvers/guns won't stop her."

"If I don't tell her now, one day I suddenly show up on Baker Street with a three-year-old child, then this old lady..."

"Then the old lady probably won't let you in."

Mrs. Hudson suddenly said from behind Nightingale.

After that day, Holmes disappeared from Baker Street for a whole year without any written records, and several subsequent cases were not dealt with in London.Nightingale did not make another appearance in London until three years later.No one knows where they went because of what happened during this period, and when someone asked Mrs. Hudson and the Watsons, they only gave vague answers.

During the first two years of Holmes' retirement, people would occasionally see a carriage parked in front of 221B, and Merry Watson got out of the carriage with a six- or seven-year-old boy.At this time, she would squat down to straighten his collar and ask him if he was tired.No one would think that it was Watson and Merry's child, because he was not like any of them, and his features were very obvious--black hair, dark eyes, high nose bridge, thinner than other children, with a kind of Age-defying seriousness and quietness.Then he will live in 221B for a few days.It is said that once, when he was standing on the side of Baker Street, the big children on the street challenged this clean and unusually silent boy, saying that he was a "boyfriend" who could only cry, but he was punched down without warning on the ground.When Nightingale, who had watched the excitement from the upstairs window for a long time, finally had to come down to intervene, an 11-year-old child was pinned down on the ground by him and beaten all over the place, and the three children couldn't move away.

Long-time residents of Baker Street say the pretty kid looks familiar.His coolness and precociousness are one person, and his ruthlessness and carrying a book with him are another.They never researched why the child came to 221B from time to time.

"Angela, Hamish is here!"

Mrs. Hudson yelled upstairs before she opened the door.

Nightingale ran down the stairs and immediately picked up the little boy who had just walked in.The boy hugged her neck tightly, and forcefully suppressed the tears that just came out.

"Holmes isn't here again? It's outrageous." Merry complained, "You came from Manchester and Yorkshire respectively."

"He'll catch the last train at night," said Nightingale. "If not, I'll take Hamish and Revolver to him."

"It's not a good idea to use your father as a target to show your kids how to shoot."

"Who said Hamish was going to be taught how to use a gun?"

"Oh, I thought you'd let him also..."

"That's not certain." Nightingale said, "Maybe he has something different, but Hamish is a normal kid."

"Then who is abnormal?"

"From any level, Sherlock is difficult to be included in the scope of normal people." The boy whispered.

"Eh? It's quite proficient to call Mr. Holmes by his first name. Angela, who taught him this?"

"Excuse me, it may be the habit of those Americans. Sometimes McMurdo and the others..."

"Let's be serious. Did you finally understand the argument?" Merry said, frowning. "Is he a Nightingale or a Sherlock Holmes?"

"That depends on whether he wants to be a nightingale in the future."

Angela Nightingale put her arms around the boy's shoulders and said with a smile.