福尔摩斯探案集:英文版
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作者(英)阿瑟·柯南道尔(Arthur Conan Doyle)著
出版社中央编译出版社
ISBN9787802116405
出版时间2011-12
装帧平装
开本16开
定价78元
货号8044123
上书时间2024-12-12
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导语摘要
全新版本演绎青少年的最爱：“案情内外”让您天文地理无所不晓，“福尔摩斯的智慧”让您如这位大侦探一样神机妙算；经典永远流行！
柯南道尔的小说结构严谨，情节离奇曲折、引人入胜。他塑造的文学形象个性鲜明，写作中把病理学、心理学等融入到侦探艺术中，形成了侦探小说独特的风格。
《福尔摩斯探案集(英文版)》的作者是柯南·道尔。
作者简介
阿瑟·柯南·道尔爵士（1859-1930），英国杰出的侦探小说家、剧作家、历史学家，被誉为“世界侦探小说之父”。1887年，柯南道尔的第一部侦探小说《血字的研究》问世，这部小说在当时社会引起了强烈的反响，深受广大读者喜爱。于是1889年又发表了他的第二部侦探小说《四签名》，这两部小说中塑造了“福尔摩斯”这一神探形象。此后，柯南·道尔又陆续发表了一系列以“福尔摩斯”为主要人物的中篇小说，皆收入到《夏洛克·福尔摩斯全集》中。1900年，柯南·道尔以军医身份到南非参与布尔战争（TheBoreWar）。因在野战医院表现出色，获封爵士。1930年7月7日过世，享年71岁。
目录
Table of Contents
A Study in Scarlet
PART ONE
003 Chapter 1 Mr. Sherlock Holmes
006 Chapter 2 The Science of Deduction
012 Chapter 3 The Lauriston Garden Mystery
018 Chapter 4 What John Rance Had to Tell
022 Chapter 5 Our Advertisement Brings a Visitor
026 Chapter 6 Tobias Gregson Shows What He Can Do
031 Chapter 7 Light in the Darkness
PART TWO
036 Chapter 1 On the Great Alkali Plain
041 Chapter 2 The Flower of Utah
045 Chapter 3 John Ferrier Talks with the Prophet
048 Chapter 4 A Flight for Life
053 Chapter 5 The Avenging Angels
058 Chapter 6 A Continuation of the
Reminiscences of John Watson? M.D.
064 Chapter 7 The Conclusion
The Sign of Four
070 Chapter 1 The Science of Deduction
074 Chapter 2 The Statement of the Case
077 Chapter 3 In Quest of a Solution
080 Chapter 4 The Story of the Bald-Headed Man
085 Chapter 5 The Tragedy of Pondicherry Lodge
089 Chapter 6 Sherlock Holmes Gives a Demonstration
094 Chapter 7 The Episode of the Barrel
100 Chapter 8 The Baker Street Irregulars
105 Chapter 9 A Break in the Chain
111 Chapter 10 The End of the Islander
116 Chapter 11 The Great Agra Treasure
119 Chapter 12 The Strange Story of Jonathan Small
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
134 A Scandal in Bohemia
148 The Red-headed League
161 A Case of Identity
172 The Boscombe Valley Mystery
186 The Five Orange Pips
197 The Man with the Twisted Lip
211 The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle
223 The Adventure of the Speckled Band
237 The Adventure of the Engineer’s Thumb
249 The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor
262 The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet
276 The Adventure of the Copper Beeches
The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
292 Silver Blaze
306 The Yellow Face
317 The Stock-Broker’s Clerk
327 The “Gloria Scott”
338 The Musgrave Ritual
349 The Reigate Puzzle
360 The Crooked Man
370 The Resident Patient
382 The Greek Interpreter
393 The Naval Treaty
413 The Final Problem
The Return of Sherlock Holmes
426 The Adventure of the Abbey Grange
439 The Adventure of Black Peter
451 The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton
461 The Adventure of the Dancing Men
475 The Adventure of the Empty House
487 The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez
500 The Adventure of the Missing Three-Quarter
513 The Adventure of the Norwood Builder
527 The Adventure of the Priory School
545 The Adventure of the Second Stain
560 The Adventure of the Six Napoleons
572 The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist
584 The Adventure of the Three Students
内容摘要
Chapter 1
Mr. Sherlock Holmes
I
N the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the
University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the
course prescribed for surgeons in the Army. Having completed my
studies there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland
Fusiliers as assistant surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India
at the time, and before I could join it, the second Afghan war had
broken out. On landing at Bombay, I learned that my corps had
advanced through the passes, and was already deep in the enemy’s
country. I followed, however, with many other officers who were in
the same situation as myself, and succeeded in reaching Candahar in
safety, where I found my regiment, and at once entered upon my new
duties.
The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it
had nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my
brigade and attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the
fatal battle of Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a
Jezail bullet, which shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian
artery. I should have fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis
had it not been for the devotion and courage shown by Murray, my
orderly, who threw me across a packhorse, and succeeded in bringing
me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had
undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers,
to the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already
improved so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to
bask a little upon the veranda, when I was struck down by enteric
fever, that curse of our Indian possessions. For months my life was
despaired of, and when at last I came to myself and became
convalescent, I was so weak and emaciated that a medical board
determined that not a day should be lost in sending me back to
England. I was dispatched, accordingly, in the troopship Orontes,
and landed a month later on Portsmouth jetty, with my health
irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal
government to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve
it.
I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free
as air—or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a
day will permit a man to be. Under such circumstances I naturally
gravitated to London, that great cesspool into which all the
loungers and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I
stayed for some time at a private hotel in the Strand, leading a
comfortless, meaningless existence, and spending such money as I
had, considerably more freely than I ought. So alarming did the
state of my finances become, that I soon realized that I must
either leave the metropolis and rusticate somewhere in the country,
or that I must make a complete alteration in my style of living.
Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making up my mind to
leave the hotel, and take up my quarters in some less pretentious
and less expensive domicile.
On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was
standing at the Criterion Bar, when someone tapped me on the
shoulder, and turning round I recognized young Stamford, who had
been a dresser under me at Bart’s. The sight of a friendly face in
the great wilderness of London is a pleasant thing indeed to a
lonely man. In old days Stamford had never been a particular crony
of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm, and he, in his turn,
appeared to be delighted to see me. In the exuberance of my joy, I
asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and we started off
together in a hansom.
“Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?” he asked in
undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London
streets. “You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut.”
I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly
concluded it by the time that we reached our destination.
“Poor devil!” he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to
my misfortunes. “What are you up to now?”
“Looking for lodgings,” I answered. “Trying to solve the problem
as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a
reasonable price.”
“That’s a strange thing,” remarked my companion; “you are the
second man today that has used that expression to me.”
“And who was the first?” I asked.
“A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the
hospital. He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could
not get someone to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he
had found, and which were too much for his purse.”
“By Jove!” I cried; “if he really wants someone to share the
rooms and the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer
having a partner to being alone.”
Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wineglass.
“You don’t know Sherlock Holmes yet,” he said; “perhaps you would
not care for him as a constant companion.”
“Why, what is there against him?”
“Oh, I didn’t say there was anything against him. He is a little
queer in his ideas—an enthusiast in some branches of science. As
far as I know he is a decent fellow enough.”
“A medical student, I suppose?” said I.
“No—I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is
well up in anatomy, and he is a first-class chemist; but, as far as
I know, he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His
studies are very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot
of out-of-the-way knowledge which would astonish his
professors.”
“Did you never ask him what he was going in for?” I asked.
“No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can
be communicative enough when the fancy seizes him.”
“I should like to meet him,” I said. “If I am to lodge with
anyone, I should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am
not strong enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had
enough of both in Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my
natural existence. How could I meet this friend of yours?”
“He is sure to be at the laboratory,” returned my companion. “He
either avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from
morning till night. If you like, we will drive round together after
luncheon.”
“Certainly,” I answered, and the conversation drifted away into
other channels.
As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the Holborn,
Stamford gave me a few more particulars about the gentleman whom I
proposed to take as a fellow-lodger.
“You must
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