"Vonda N. McIntyre - The Adventure of the Field Theorems" - читать интересную книгу автора (McIntyre Vonda N)

to break."
Holmes pulled out one stem by its roots and handed it to me, then another for Sir Arthur. I tried to
break my stem, and indeed it took considerable force even to put a kink in the fibrous growth. Sir Arthur
bent his stem, folding it repeatedly back and forth.
"The field theorems would be more impressive," Holmes said, "if the crops were broken."
"But, Mr. Holmes," said Sir Arthur, "the forces we are dealing with are mighty. A stem I cannot break
would be like a fragile dry twig, to them. Do you not think it amazing that they can temper themselves to
gentleness?"
Holmes stared at him in disbelief. "Sir Arthur! First you are impressed with a feat that appears to be
difficult, then, when the action proves simple, you claim yourself impressed because it is simple! Your
logic eludes me."
In Holmes's powerful hands, several stalks ripped apart.
We returned to Undershaw. We drank Earl Grey from delicate porcelain cups, surrounded by heavy,
disagreeable silence. Lady Conan Doyle and I tried in vain to lighten the conversation. When Sir Arthur
announced a seance to be held that very evening, Holmes's mood did not improve.
A loud knock on the door, followed by shouting, broke the tension. Sir Arthur rose to attend to the
commotion.
"One of your tenants to see you, Sir Arthur," the butler said.
Robert had followed the butler from the front door; to my astonishment he crossed the threshold of the
sitting room. Then he remembered his place and snatched his battered cap from his head.
"There's been another field done!" he exclaimed. "Little Robbie just discovered it, coming home to get
his brothers some bread and cheese!"
Holmes leapt to his feet, his gray mood vanishing in an instant. Sir Arthur called for his autocar and we
hurried off to see the new phenomenon.
The automobile, newly repaired, motored smoothly until we turned down the final road to the new field
theorem. Suddenly it died. Robert stepped down from the running board to crank it, but none of his
efforts revived it.
Sir Arthur revealed a knowledge of colorful oaths in several languages.
"Bushman," Holmes muttered after a particularly exotic phrase.
I reflected that Sir Arthur must have acquired this unusual facility during his service in the Boer War.
We walked the last half-mile to the field. The afternoon's heat lingered even in the shade of the
hedgerows. Birds chirped and rustled the branches.
"Well, Robert," I said, "you'll have the chance to observe Mr. Holmes in action, and he can hear your
story in your own words instead of mine. Holmes, Robert is a great enthusiast of your stories."
"I am flattered," Holmes said, "though of course the credit goes entirely to you, Watson, and to your
craft."
We had no more opportunity to chat, for we reached the newly patterned field. Robert's children--
including Little Robbie, who was considerably taller and larger than his father-- had arrived before us,
despite our use of the motorcar. They stood in order of descending height on the bottom rail of the fence,
exclaiming over the pattern crushed into the grain.
Sir Arthur made as if to plunge into the very center of the new theorem, but Holmes clasped him by
the shoulder.
"Stay back!" Holmes cried. "Robert! To the lane! Keep away the spectators!"
"Very well, Mr. Holmes." Robert and his children tramped away down the path.
I marveled at the efficiency of the country grapevine, to give everyone such quick notice of the new
field theorem.
Holmes plunged past Sir Arthur. But instead of forging into the field, he climbed the fence and
balanced atop the highest rail to gaze across the waving grain. He traced with his eyes the valleys and
gulches etched into the surface. Only after some minutes, and a complete circumnavigation of the field,
did he venture into the field theorem itself.