Reading Help The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Ch.I-IV
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THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES by SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE `
` `
` I A Scandal in Bohemia `
` II The Red-headed League `
` III A Case of Identity `
` IV The Boscombe Valley Mystery `
` V The Five Orange Pips `
` VI The Man with the Twisted Lip `
` VII The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle `
` VIII The Adventure of the Speckled Band `
` IX The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb `
` X The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor `
` XI The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet `
` XII The Adventure of the Copper Beeches `
` `
` `
` ADVENTURE I. A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA `
` `
` I. `
` `
` To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heard `
` him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses `
` and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt `
` any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that `
` one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but `
` admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect `
` reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a `
` lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never `
` spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They `
` were admirable things for the observer--excellent for drawing the `
` veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner `
` to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely `
` adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which `
` might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a `
` sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power `
` lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a `
` nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and `
` that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable `
` memory. `
` `
` I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us `
` away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the `
` home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first `
` finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to `
` absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of `
` society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in `
` Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from `
` week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the `
` drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, `
` as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his `
` immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in `
` following out those clues, and clearing up those mysteries which `
` had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time `
` to time I heard some vague account of his doings: of his summons `
` to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up `
` of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, `
` and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so `
` delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. `
` Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely `
` shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of `
` my former friend and companion. `
` `
` One night--it was on the twentieth of March, 1888--I was `
` returning from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to `
` civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I `
` passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated `
` in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the `
` Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes `
` again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. `
` His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw `
` his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against `
` the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head `
` sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who `
` knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their `
` own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his `
` drug-created dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new `
` problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which `
` had formerly been in part my own. `
` `
` His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I `
` think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly `
` eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, `
` and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he `
` stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular `
` introspective fashion. `
` `
` "Wedlock suits you," he remarked. "I think, Watson, that you have `
` put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you." `
` `
` "Seven!" I answered. `
` `
` "Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, `
` I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not `
` tell me that you intended to go into harness." `
` `
` "Then, how do you know?" `
` `
` "I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting `
` yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and `
` careless servant girl?" `
` `
` "My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much. You would certainly `
` have been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true `
` that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful `
` mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can't imagine how you `
` deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has `
` given her notice, but there, again, I fail to see how you work it `
` out." `
` `
` He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands `
` together. `
` `
` "It is simplicity itself," said he; "my eyes tell me that on the `
` inside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, `
` the leather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they `
` have been caused by someone who has very carelessly scraped round `
` the edges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it. `
` Hence, you see, my double deduction that you had been out in vile `
` weather, and that you had a particularly malignant boot-slitting `
` specimen of the London slavey. As to your practice, if a `
` gentleman walks into my rooms smelling of iodoform, with a black `
` mark of nitrate of silver upon his right forefinger, and a bulge `
` on the right side of his top-hat to show where he has secreted `
` his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce `
` him to be an active member of the medical profession." `
` `
` I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his `
` process of deduction. "When I hear you give your reasons," I `
` remarked, "the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously `
` simple that I could easily do it myself, though at each `
` successive instance of your reasoning I am baffled until you `
` explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good `
` as yours." `
` `
` "Quite so," he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing `
` himself down into an armchair. "You see, but you do not observe. `
` The distinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen `
` the steps which lead up from the hall to this room." `
` `
` "Frequently." `
` `
` "How often?" `
` `
` "Well, some hundreds of times." `
` `
` "Then how many are there?" `
` `
` "How many? I don't know." `
` `
` "Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is `
` just my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps, `
` because I have both seen and observed. By-the-way, since you are `
` interested in these little problems, and since you are good `
` enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you `
` may be interested in this." He threw over a sheet of thick, `
` pink-tinted note-paper which had been lying open upon the table. `
` "It came by the last post," said he. "Read it aloud." `
` `
` The note was undated, and without either signature or address. `
` `
` "There will call upon you to-night, at a quarter to eight `
` o'clock," it said, "a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a `
` matter of the very deepest moment. Your recent services to one of `
` the royal houses of Europe have shown that you are one who may `
` safely be trusted with matters which are of an importance which `
` can hardly be exaggerated. This account of you we have from all `
` quarters received. Be in your chamber then at that hour, and do `
` not take it amiss if your visitor wear a mask." `
` `
` "This is indeed a mystery," I remarked. "What do you imagine that `
` it means?" `
` `
` "I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorize before `
` one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit `
` theories, instead of theories to suit facts. But the note itself. `
` What do you deduce from it?" `
` `
` I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it was `
` written. `
` `
` "The man who wrote it was presumably well to do," I remarked, `
` endeavouring to imitate my companion's processes. "Such paper `
` could not be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly `
` strong and stiff." `
` `
` "Peculiar--that is the very word," said Holmes. "It is not an `
` English paper at all. Hold it up to the light." `
` `
` I did so, and saw a large "E" with a small "g," a "P," and a `
` large "G" with a small "t" woven into the texture of the paper. `
` `
` "What do you make of that?" asked Holmes. `
` `
` "The name of the maker, no doubt; or his monogram, rather." `
` `
` "Not at all. The 'G' with the small 't' stands for `
` 'Gesellschaft,' which is the German for 'Company.' It is a `
` customary contraction like our 'Co.' 'P,' of course, stands for `
` 'Papier.' Now for the 'Eg.' Let us glance at our Continental `
` Gazetteer." He took down a heavy brown volume from his shelves. `
` "Eglow, Eglonitz--here we are, Egria. It is in a German-speaking `
`
` `
` I A Scandal in Bohemia `
` II The Red-headed League `
` III A Case of Identity `
` IV The Boscombe Valley Mystery `
` V The Five Orange Pips `
` VI The Man with the Twisted Lip `
` VII The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle `
` VIII The Adventure of the Speckled Band `
` IX The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb `
` X The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor `
` XI The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet `
` XII The Adventure of the Copper Beeches `
` `
` `
` ADVENTURE I. A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA `
` `
` I. `
` `
` To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heard `
` him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses `
` and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt `
` any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that `
` one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but `
` admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect `
` reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a `
` lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never `
` spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They `
` were admirable things for the observer--excellent for drawing the `
` veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner `
` to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely `
` adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which `
` might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a `
` sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power `
` lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a `
` nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and `
` that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable `
` memory. `
` `
` I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us `
` away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the `
` home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first `
` finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to `
` absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of `
` society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in `
` Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from `
` week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the `
` drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, `
` as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his `
` immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in `
` following out those clues, and clearing up those mysteries which `
` had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time `
` to time I heard some vague account of his doings: of his summons `
` to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up `
` of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, `
` and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so `
` delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. `
` Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely `
` shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of `
` my former friend and companion. `
` `
` One night--it was on the twentieth of March, 1888--I was `
` returning from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to `
` civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I `
` passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated `
` in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the `
` Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes `
` again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. `
` His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw `
` his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against `
` the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head `
` sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who `
` knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their `
` own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his `
` drug-created dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new `
` problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which `
` had formerly been in part my own. `
` `
` His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I `
` think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly `
` eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, `
` and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he `
` stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular `
` introspective fashion. `
` `
` "Wedlock suits you," he remarked. "I think, Watson, that you have `
` put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you." `
` `
` "Seven!" I answered. `
` `
` "Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, `
` I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not `
` tell me that you intended to go into harness." `
` `
` "Then, how do you know?" `
` `
` "I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting `
` yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and `
` careless servant girl?" `
` `
` "My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much. You would certainly `
` have been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true `
` that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful `
` mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can't imagine how you `
` deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has `
` given her notice, but there, again, I fail to see how you work it `
` out." `
` `
` He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands `
` together. `
` `
` "It is simplicity itself," said he; "my eyes tell me that on the `
` inside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, `
` the leather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they `
` have been caused by someone who has very carelessly scraped round `
` the edges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it. `
` Hence, you see, my double deduction that you had been out in vile `
` weather, and that you had a particularly malignant boot-slitting `
` specimen of the London slavey. As to your practice, if a `
` gentleman walks into my rooms smelling of iodoform, with a black `
` mark of nitrate of silver upon his right forefinger, and a bulge `
` on the right side of his top-hat to show where he has secreted `
` his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce `
` him to be an active member of the medical profession." `
` `
` I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his `
` process of deduction. "When I hear you give your reasons," I `
` remarked, "the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously `
` simple that I could easily do it myself, though at each `
` successive instance of your reasoning I am baffled until you `
` explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good `
` as yours." `
` `
` "Quite so," he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing `
` himself down into an armchair. "You see, but you do not observe. `
` The distinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen `
` the steps which lead up from the hall to this room." `
` `
` "Frequently." `
` `
` "How often?" `
` `
` "Well, some hundreds of times." `
` `
` "Then how many are there?" `
` `
` "How many? I don't know." `
` `
` "Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is `
` just my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps, `
` because I have both seen and observed. By-the-way, since you are `
` interested in these little problems, and since you are good `
` enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you `
` may be interested in this." He threw over a sheet of thick, `
` pink-tinted note-paper which had been lying open upon the table. `
` "It came by the last post," said he. "Read it aloud." `
` `
` The note was undated, and without either signature or address. `
` `
` "There will call upon you to-night, at a quarter to eight `
` o'clock," it said, "a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a `
` matter of the very deepest moment. Your recent services to one of `
` the royal houses of Europe have shown that you are one who may `
` safely be trusted with matters which are of an importance which `
` can hardly be exaggerated. This account of you we have from all `
` quarters received. Be in your chamber then at that hour, and do `
` not take it amiss if your visitor wear a mask." `
` `
` "This is indeed a mystery," I remarked. "What do you imagine that `
` it means?" `
` `
` "I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorize before `
` one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit `
` theories, instead of theories to suit facts. But the note itself. `
` What do you deduce from it?" `
` `
` I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it was `
` written. `
` `
` "The man who wrote it was presumably well to do," I remarked, `
` endeavouring to imitate my companion's processes. "Such paper `
` could not be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly `
` strong and stiff." `
` `
` "Peculiar--that is the very word," said Holmes. "It is not an `
` English paper at all. Hold it up to the light." `
` `
` I did so, and saw a large "E" with a small "g," a "P," and a `
` large "G" with a small "t" woven into the texture of the paper. `
` `
` "What do you make of that?" asked Holmes. `
` `
` "The name of the maker, no doubt; or his monogram, rather." `
` `
` "Not at all. The 'G' with the small 't' stands for `
` 'Gesellschaft,' which is the German for 'Company.' It is a `
` customary contraction like our 'Co.' 'P,' of course, stands for `
` 'Papier.' Now for the 'Eg.' Let us glance at our Continental `
` Gazetteer." He took down a heavy brown volume from his shelves. `
` "Eglow, Eglonitz--here we are, Egria. It is in a German-speaking `
`