Version 2 

THE MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
by Arthur Conan Doyle

Silver Blaze

Part 1

One morning,
as we sat down to breakfast,
Holmes said to me,
“Watson, I think I’ll have to go.”

“Go? Where to?” I asked.
“To Dartmoor;
to King’s Pyland,”
he replied.

I wasn’t surprised.
In fact,
I was only wondering
why he hadn’t gone already.

The whole country
was talking about
this unusual case.

Everyone knew about it.

For a day,
Holmes had been
pacing around the room,
deep in thought.

He smoked his pipe,
filling the room
with strong black
tobacco smoke,
and he didn’t answer
any of my questions.

We had fresh newspapers
delivered all day.

Holmes would look
at each one briefly
and then toss it aside,
uninterested.

Though he was quiet,
I knew exactly
what was on his mind.

There was only one case
that could interest Holmes.

It was
the strange disappearance
of a racehorse
that was expected
to win the Wessex Cup,
and the sad murder
of its trainer.

 

So, when Holmes
suddenly said
he was going
to the scene of the crime,
I wasn’t surprised.

I had expected this,
and hoped for it.

“I would be very glad
to go with you,
if I wouldn’t be
in the way,”
I said.

 

“My dear Watson, it would be a great help if you came with me,” he answered. “And I think you’ll find this case interesting, as it is quite unique. We still have time to catch our train at Paddington. I’ll tell you more on the way. Please bring your field-glass.”

 

And so, about an hour later, I found myself on the train to Exeter. Holmes sat beside me, reading a stack of newspapers he’d picked up at the station. He wore his traveling cap with flaps over his ears, his face looking sharp and focused. We sped along through the countryside, passing town after town.

 

Finally, after we passed Reading, Holmes put the last paper under the seat and offered me a cigar.