[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(Nightingale's Diary)

On Monday morning, I got up a little late, and I packed up my things and prepared to report to my employer's house. I didn't even have time to review the strange experiences of the past few days.I was still moved by the mysterious atmosphere of 221B Baker Street on the first night when I first came, but now I am ridiculously looking for my own reading notes.

"Going to work today?" asked Mrs. Hudson as she set the table.

"Yes." I said angrily, "I'm going to be late, just eat something."

"What's the hurry, you can't mess with your meal. Wait until I heat up the milk."

"Thank you, I really don't need it."

"There are also biscuits, which will be out of the oven immediately."

"Thanks, Mrs. Hudson, I think maybe I should have an alarm clock for future breakfast."

"There is a clock at home."

"The clock doesn't keep time..."

"It's not cheap to buy a good clock, and I'm not going to add another one." Mrs. Hudson meant that she should not be expected to pay for it.Her life and rest are very regular. She wakes up naturally at five o'clock in the morning and goes to bed at ten o'clock in the evening.But she was overthinking it, and I originally wanted to buy it myself.

After stuffing breakfast indiscriminately, I changed into a dark blue dress and prepared to go out.Mrs. Hudson kept complaining that I was dressed in old-fashioned colors, not like a teenage girl, and that my shoes didn't look good, like I was going hiking instead of work.I didn't have time to answer, so I rushed out with my hat and handbag, without even glancing at the full-length mirror.No sooner had I descended the last step of 221B than Mrs. Hudson opened the first-floor window and called to me:

"Hey! You're going to be late, call a taxi!"

The employer's home is actually not far away, if I'm not about to be late.But considering the cost of the taxi and the cash on hand, I gritted my teeth and waved to Mrs. Hudson:

"Thank you, I won't be late!"

This scene on the streets of London should not be uncommon.A fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl was holding a hat in one hand and a handbag in the other, and ran all the way along the street. Every time a black-covered taxi passed her by on the road, it felt like she was racing against a horse.The sky was gray and it looked like it was going to rain. I remembered that I didn't bring an umbrella when I was running, but it was impossible to go back to get it.I swiftly passed street vendors, waifs, gentlemen and ladies, the gray London buildings were left behind one by one, and the horse-drawn carriage ran on the stone and brick road with a crisp sound of hooves.London, the prosperity and prosperity never seen in Sussex in a lifetime, now only staged a modest prelude.To really open the curtain of London, we have to wait for the sun to rise a little higher.

But I didn't come to admire London today.The door of the Adams house, my employer, finally appeared before my eyes.

The Adams family is American, their hometown is in San Francisco, and they immigrated here recently.When I arrived at the gate of the courtyard, the time was just right. I patted on the gate, and a footman came out and opened it.

"Miss Nightingale?" he asked.The accent is native.

"Yes. Mr. Adams and I have an appointment for work today."

"Please come in."

The footman led me through the little garden into the villa.I was waiting in the lobby on the first floor when he went in to give the briefing.Mrs. Adams came down to meet me.

"Good morning, Miss Nightingale." The lady looked about 30 years old, with plain features and elegant manners.When she came down the stairs it was like the ball had come in. "My husband went out early in the morning because of work. I will arrange things at home."

Feeling her eyeing me, and remembering that I was dressed too casually today because I was pressed for time, I felt a little uncomfortable in her presence.

"Go ahead."

"In addition to the family of three, there is also a friend's daughter, Henrietta Dolan, who currently lives here. The servants include a housekeeper, two maids and a footman. Your job is to take care of and discipline my daughter, Constance Adams."

"May I see Miss Adams now?"

Madame looked at me.

"Constance is in her room now. I've sent Hattie to fetch her down, if she can."

"Hattie?"

"That's Henrietta, as we call Miss Dolan."

The laughter and screams from upstairs reminded me to stop thinking.The lady looked up.

"Quick! Hatty! Quicker!"

"Constance, watch out you'll fall!"

A little girl in a purple dress laughed and sat on the long banister, slid all the way down from the second floor, and jumped down nimbly.A young girl ran down the stairs after her, panting and anxious.

"Constance, I've told you a thousand times not to do this. You'll break your neck." Mrs. Adams stepped forward and straightened Constance's collar. "This is the new governess, Miss Angela Nightingale. She will look after you."

Then the lady looked at me.

"My daughter, Constance, is five years old and hasn't studied with the teacher yet. You don't have to ask for her lessons in the near future, because she is still young. Just play with her and keep her safe."

"Okay, ma'am."

The tea for the guests has been set.I drank tea in the living room.Mrs. Addams asked some more questions about my family, and left me with little Constance.And now for the first time I took a good look at this horrible child, and she looked at me too.Constance is very similar to her mother, not beautiful, but full of spirit.Round face, blue eyes, tousled curly flaxen hair with a pink headband tilted to one side.I think her hair must be fine early in the morning, but after less than two hours of tossing, it became like straw.A little girl of this age is scarier than a boy.She would scream, break things for no reason, roll on the ground, and torture small animals.She's definitely the type, and she's looking straight into my eyes with no qualms.

"Play with her and keep her safe. It's an impossible task."

I looked at the young girl who was speaking.She was a classic beauty, with quiet green eyes, flaxen hair, and a long face.

"Miss Henrietta Doran?" I said.

"Yes, Miss Nightingale. I have to say that your coming represents my relief." She said with a frown on her delicate eyebrows, with an aggrieved look.Miss Dolan has an approachable vibe and I feel comfortable talking to her.

"Are you American too?" I heard that her accent was slightly different from Mrs. Adams's, but it was still an American accent.

"Yes. I'm from Washington, and I moved to San Francisco. You're not from London?"

"I……"

We didn't get the conversation going as Constance pounced on Miss Hatty Doran like a young lion, nearly knocking her to the ground.

"Hati, stop talking! Play with me!"

"Let Miss Nightingale play with you." Hatty pushed down her hand in embarrassment, but Constance clung tightly to her and could not get off.I went over and patted the little girl on the back: "Constance, how about we play a new game?"

"What?" Those round blue eyes turned to me immediately, shining brightly.

"I hide something at home. I won't tell you where it is. You find it within the specified time."

Constance shook her head away. "What's there to play with then?"

"You can find it first."

I saw a hint of childish cunning in the girl's eyes.Constance nodded, agreeing.

"Let's see what we're hiding..." I glanced around and pulled Hattie's comb from her head, nearly unraveling her braids. "how about this?"

Hattie straightened her hair and glared at me, but Constance laughed.

"Give me half an hour to hide it, no peeking, and then give you an hour to find it."

"Ok, deal!"

I tugged on Hattie. "Go, you also follow me to hide."

"You're really good at coaxing kids," Hatty said despondently as she rearranged her hair. "You really are young."

"You're not old either."

She wouldn't have said that if she knew I was buying and selling now.Now Holmes is playing tricks on me.Thinking about it this way, I was a little worried again.

221B Baker Street is not too big, but I haven't found a notebook yet.Apparently I'm stuck in a line of thought that I can't break through, and if I let go of what I take for granted, maybe I can find the answer.The thing is, it's only easier said than done.

"You played a lot today. She memorized every corner of the house in two days." Hattie's voice woke me up from my thoughts, "and if she is good at playing, she will do it again. Tell you to hide over and over again."

I don't care anymore, as long as this game can give me some inspiration.I weighed Hattie's hairbrush.

"Where to put it? On the bookcase? She can't reach the high place."

"Do you think she won't move up the stool to watch?"

The most difficult place to find is not the place you can't go, but the place you can't think of.

"Buried in the garden?"

"Miss Nightingale, that's my comb!"

"Ah, sorry sorry."

Yes, for the same reason, Sherlock Holmes would not place his notebook where it would damage the paper.

"Put it back in the vanity box?"

"She'll be the first to find the vanity box."

This... seems like the bookshelf and writing desk I was looking for first.

"Why don't we just carry it? It's in the house, too. Do you have pockets? I don't."

Hatty reluctantly took the comb. "It's perfect for you to be this tutor, you love to play so much."

I looked at her with a smile.A light flashed through my heart.

(God's perspective)

Angela Nightingale, who got off work on the first day, walked into 221B Baker Street.Hearing the sound of her opening the door, Watson, who was reading books and newspapers in the living room, looked up.Holmes did not even lift his eyes.

"Hi, Nightingale, how is today?" Watson greeted her first.

"It's okay. It's just that the child is a little naughty." She changed her shoes, walked lightly, and walked into Holmes' room first, and returned to the living room after a while.

"Mr. Holmes, what book are you reading?"

"Nothing." Holmes turned the page again and looked up at her.

"You've been reading that book for two days without sleeping or eating, and you should finish it at your speed. Now I really want to know what kind of attractive book it is."

Under the gaze of Holmes and Watson, Nightingale went straight to Holmes.Watson looked surprised, while Holmes had a calm expression, holding a book in his hand, and staring at her without any fluctuations in his eyes.

Nightingale stopped in front of him, took the book from his hand, and tore off the vellum cover.The brown cardboard shell was exposed.She flashed the front of the book to Holmes:

"Here is my notebook, Mr. Holmes. I hope you have not grown weary of it after so long a study. It suits your style best."

Before the detective could speak, Watson, who was on the sidelines, exclaimed first: "Holmes, Miss Nightingale, this, this is wonderful!"

Holmes stopped the doctor with a "pause" gesture.He looked up at Nightingale with bright eyes.

"This is still the first day, Miss Nightingale. You are very good."

"It's already the second day." Nightingale smiled slightly.

"As for how you came up with it, we can go back and study it. The most important thing is," Holmes snapped his fingers, "you have been admitted."

"Congratulations, Miss Nightingale." Watson couldn't help shaking hands with Nightingale, "It's not easy to get my friend's approval."

"Regarding this matter, I have one last surprise for Mr. Holmes." Nightingale shook hands with Watson, and turned to Holmes again. "Playing this game once is too little."

"Oh?" Holmes smiled relaxedly. "What else do you have in mind?"

"I will not give a deadline, Mr. Holmes, please find your own way to find your needle."

"..."

Watson reluctantly retreated to a safe place, went upstairs and returned to his room.Fortunately, there is still such a quiet place in 221B.When things subside tomorrow, he will ask Nightingale two questions.First, how could she have the guts to touch Holmes' syringe just after dealing with Holmes for two and a half days.Second, and most importantly, how did she know Holmes used a syringe...

The author has something to say: On the day I wrote the scene of Nightingale running wildly on the street, I happened to go out to watch a play, and it was getting late, so I got out of the subway station and ran all the way, thinking that this was probably destined to be written like this ,well!