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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Mystery of Cloomber"


Weel, ane day I was cleanin' doon the passages when my e'e fell on a
great muckle heap o' curtains and auld cairpets and sic' like things
that were piled away in a corner, no vera far frae the door o' the
general's room. A' o' a sudden a thocht came intae my heid and I says
tae mysel':
"Israel, laddie," says I, "what's tae stop ye frae hidin' behind that
this vera nicht and seein' the auld mun when he doesna ken human e'e is
on him?"
The mair I thocht o't the mair seemple it appeared, and I made up my
mind tae put the idea intae instant execution.
When the nicht cam roond I tauld the women-folk that I was bad wi' the
jawache, and would gang airly tae my room. I kenned fine when ance I
got there that there was na chance o' ony ane disturbin' me, so I waited
a wee while, and then when a' was quiet, I slippit aff my boots and ran
doon the ither stair until I cam tae the heap o' auld clothes, and there
I lay doon wi' ane e'e peepin' through a kink and a' the rest covered up
wi' a great, ragged cairpet.
There I bided as quiet as a mouse until the general passed me on his
road tae bed, and a' was still in the hoose.
My certie! I wouldna gang through wi' it again for a' the siller at the
Union Bank of Dumfries, I canna think o't noo withoot feelin' cauld a'
the way doon my back.
It was just awfu' lyin' there in the deid silence, waitin' and waitin'
wi' never a soond tae break the monotony, except the heavy tickin' o' an
auld clock somewhere doon the passage.


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