血字的研究/四簽名

前言

　　阿瑟·柯南·道爾（Arthur Conan Doyle，1859-1930），英國著名偵探小說家、劇作家，現(xiàn)代偵探小說的奠基人之一，被譽(yù)為“英國偵探小說之父”?！　∷?859年5月22日出生于愛丁堡，1881年獲愛丁堡大學(xué)醫(yī)學(xué)博士學(xué)位。博士畢業(yè)后，柯南·道爾以行醫(yī)為職業(yè)。1885年，柯南·道爾開始創(chuàng)作偵探小說《血字的研究》，并于1887年發(fā)表在《比頓圣誕年刊》上。1890年，柯南·道爾出版了第二部小說《四簽名》，并一舉成名。次年，他棄醫(yī)從文，專事偵探小說的創(chuàng)作，陸續(xù)出版以福爾摩斯為主人公的系列偵探小說：《波希米亞丑聞》、《紅發(fā)會》、《身份案》、《恐怖谷》、《五個(gè)橘核》、《巴斯克維爾的獵犬》等。1902年，他因有關(guān)布爾戰(zhàn)爭的著作被加封為爵士。1930年7月7日，柯南·道爾逝世于英國?！　】履?middot;道爾一生共創(chuàng)作了60多篇以福爾摩斯為主人公的偵探小說，他塑造的福爾摩斯形象其實(shí)就是正義的化身。福爾摩斯已成為世界上家喻戶曉的人物、偵探的象征，印在全世界不同種族、不同膚色的人心中。福爾摩斯是一個(gè)栩栩如生、有血有肉的形象。他活動在倫敦大霧迷漫的街道上、普普通通的公寓里，似乎隨時(shí)都可能跟走在街上的讀者擦肩而過，因此使人感到十分親切可信。福爾摩斯善于運(yùn)用醫(yī)學(xué)、心理學(xué)、邏輯學(xué)，尤其是他的邏輯推理能力令人嘆為觀止。他又十分注重調(diào)查研究，并且對案子極其熱情、認(rèn)真負(fù)責(zé)，這些使他的偵探本領(lǐng)到了神鬼莫測的境地。柯南·道爾通過福爾摩斯探案故事，宣揚(yáng)善惡有報(bào)、法網(wǎng)難逃的思想。小說中所涉及的醫(yī)學(xué)、化學(xué)、生物學(xué)、犯罪學(xué)、法學(xué)知識以及探案和偵察方法，即便是對今天的偵探工作也具有一定的借鑒作用?！　】履?middot;道爾以福爾摩斯為主人公的系列偵探小說出版100多年來，一直暢銷至今，被譯成世界上幾十種語言，是全世界公認(rèn)的偵探小說名著。在中國，福爾摩斯系列偵探小說是最受廣大讀者歡迎的外國文學(xué)之一。

內(nèi)容概要

A Study in Scarlet，The Sign of Four，中文譯名分別為《血字的研究》、《四簽名》，這是兩部充滿傳奇、冒險(xiǎn)與智慧的偵探故事，由英國著名偵探小說家、“英國偵探小說之父”阿瑟·柯南·道爾編著。在充滿霧氣的倫敦貝克街上，住著一位富有正義感的偵探福爾摩斯。他和他忠實(shí)的醫(yī)生朋友華生一起經(jīng)歷了無數(shù)千奇百怪的案子，制造了許多經(jīng)典的偵探故事?！堆值难芯俊放c《四簽名》便是其中最經(jīng)典的兩部，被公認(rèn)為世界偵探小說的經(jīng)典之作，至今已被譯成世界上多種文字，曾經(jīng)先后多次被改編成電影。書中所展現(xiàn)主人公福爾摩斯的傳奇故事伴隨了一代又一代人的美麗童年、少年直至成年。    無論作為語言學(xué)習(xí)的課本，還是作為通俗的文學(xué)讀本，本書對當(dāng)代中國讀者，特別是青少年讀者將產(chǎn)生積極的影響。為了使讀者能夠了解英文故事概況，進(jìn)而提高閱讀速度和閱讀水平，在每章的開始部分增加了中文導(dǎo)讀。

作者簡介

　　阿瑟·柯南·道爾，（Arthur Conan Doyle，1859-1930），英國著名偵探小說家、劇作家，現(xiàn)代偵探小說的奠基人之一，被譽(yù)為“英國偵探小說之父”。

書籍目錄

血字的研究  A Study in Scarlet	1第一部  華生醫(yī)生的回憶/Part 1  Being a Reprint from the Reminiscences of John H.       Watson, M. D., Late of the Army Medical Department	2第1章  夏洛克·福爾摩斯/Chapter 1  Mr. Sherlock Holmes	3第2章  演繹學(xué)/Chapter 2  The Science of Deduction	12第3章  勞悅斯頓園之秘/Chapter 3  The Lauriston Garden Mystery	24第4章  約翰·阮斯的說法/Chapter 4  What John Rance Had to Tell	36第5章  我們的廣告帶來了一位訪客/Chapter 5  Our Advertisement Brings a Visitor	44第6章  陶拜斯?葛里格森的做法/Chapter 6  Tobias Gregson Shows What He Can Do	52第7章  黑暗之光/Chapter 7  Light in the Darkness	63第二部  圣徒的故鄉(xiāng)/Part 2  The Country of the Saints	73第1章  荒原之上/Chapter 1  On the Great Alkali Plain	74第2章  猶他之花/Chapter 2  The Flower of Utah	85第3章  約翰·佛瑞爾與先知交談/Chapter 3  John Ferrier Talks with the Prophet	93第4章  為活命而逃/Chapter 4  A Flight for Life	99第5章  復(fù)仇天使/Chapter 5  The Avenging Angels	109第6章  華生醫(yī)生的回憶/Chapter 6  A Continuation of the Reminiscences of          John Watson, M. D.	120第7章  結(jié)束語/Chapter 7  The Conclusion	132四簽名  The Sign of Four	139第1章  演繹學(xué)/Chapter 1  The Science of Deduction	140第2章  案件說明/Chapter 2  The Statement of the Case	149第3章  尋求解答/Chapter 3  In Quest of a Solution	155第4章  那名禿頭男子的故事/Chapter 4  The Story of the Bald-Headed Man	162第5章  櫻池別墅的悲劇/Chapter 5  The Tragedy of Pondicherry Lodge	173第6章  福爾摩斯的實(shí)地表演/Chapter 6  Sherlock Holmes Gives a Demonstration	181第7章  木桶的插曲/Chapter 7  The Episode of the Barrel	192第8章  貝克街雜牌警探隊(duì)/Chapter 8  The Baker Street Irregulars	204第9章  線索中斷/Chapter 9  A Break in the Chain	215第10章  土人的末日/Chapter 10  The End of the Islander	226第11章  亞格拉寶藏/Chapter 11  The Great Agra Treasure	236第12章  約翰生·史莫的奇怪故事/Chapter 12  The Strange Story of Jonathan Small	243

章節(jié)摘錄

　　第1章　夏洛克·福爾摩斯　　Chapter 1　Mr. Sherlock Holmes　　華生，一八七八年在倫敦大學(xué)取得醫(yī)學(xué)博士學(xué)位，曾參加國外戰(zhàn)爭，在旺德戰(zhàn)役中負(fù)傷回國休養(yǎng)。　　回國后華生住在一家私人旅館，后來由于經(jīng)濟(jì)原因，想找一個(gè)便宜點(diǎn)的住處。一天，他和包扎護(hù)士史丹佛閑談時(shí)，史丹佛說在醫(yī)院化學(xué)試驗(yàn)室工作的夏洛克?福爾摩斯正好想找人合租房子。他是個(gè)一流的化學(xué)師，而且對解剖學(xué)很精通?！　∪A生想見一見福爾摩斯。在去醫(yī)院的路上，史丹佛對此事有點(diǎn)兒擔(dān)心：福爾摩斯的性格及一些古怪的做法使他擔(dān)心他們合不來。試驗(yàn)室只有福爾摩斯一個(gè)人在做試驗(yàn)，聽到他們的腳步聲，他高興地走過來告訴大家自己終于找到了一種只沉淀血紅素，而不和其他物質(zhì)產(chǎn)生反應(yīng)的試劑。　　史丹佛為他倆做了介紹，福爾摩斯推斷出華生從阿富汗回來，并拉著他來到桌旁，從手上取了一點(diǎn)血放入一公升的水中，然后將一點(diǎn)點(diǎn)結(jié)晶放入容器，再放入一些滴過血的水，水變成紅褐色而沉淀出一些棕色的微小顆粒，他向大家解釋一個(gè)人在案發(fā)幾個(gè)月后被懷疑，用這種方法測試嫌疑犯衣服上的污漬就可以判斷出是不是血跡?！　∈返し鸶嬖V福爾摩斯華生想找住處，因此想把他們湊在一起。福爾摩斯很高興地告訴他們自己在貝克街看中了一套房子。于是兩人都將自己的愛好和習(xí)慣都說了出來，并約定次日中午去看房子。華生和史丹佛告別福爾摩斯出來，仍然不知道他怎么知道自己是從阿富汗回來的?！　 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 enemys 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 despatched, 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 Barrs. 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.”　　“Thats 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 parmer to being alone.”　　Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wineglass. “You dont 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 didnt 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 eycitement. 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 mustnt blame me if you dont get on with him,” he said; “I know nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you must not hold me responsible.”　　“If we dont get on it will be easy to part company,” I answered. “It seems to me, Stamford,” I added, looking hard at my companion, “that you have some reason for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellows temper so formidable, or what is it? Dont be mealymouthed about it.”　　“It is not easy to express the inexpressible,” he answered with a laugh. “Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes—it approaches to cold- bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand, but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and exact knowledge.”　　“Very right too.”　　“Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the subjects in the dissecting rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking rather a bizarre shape.”　　“Beating the subjects!”　　“Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him at it with my own eyes.”　　“And yet you say he is not a medical student?”　　“No. Heaven knows what the objects of his studies are. But here we are, and you must form your own impressions about him.” As he spoke, we turned down a narrow lane and passed through a small side door, which opened into a wing of the great hospital. It was familiar ground to me, and I needed no guiding as we ascended the bleak stone staircase and made our way down the long corridor with its vista of whitewashed wall and dun-coloured doors. Near the farther end a low arched passage branched away from it and led to the chemical laboratory.　　This was a lofty chamber, lined and littered with countless bottles. Broad, low tables were scattered about, which bristled with retorts, test-tubes, and little Bunsen lamps, with their blue flickering flames. There was only one student in the room, who was bending over a distant table absorbed in his work. At the sound of our steps he glanced round and sprang to his feet with a cry of pleasure. “Ive found it! Ive found it,” he shouted to my companion, running towards us with a test-tube in his hand. “I have found a re-agent which is precipitated by h?moglobin, and by nothing else.” Had he discovered a gold mine, greater delight could not have shone upon his features.　　“Dr. Watson, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said Stamford, introducing us.　　“How are you?” he said cordially, gripping my hand with a strength for which I should hardly have given him credit. “You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.”　　“How on earth did you know that?” I asked in astonishment.　　“Never mind” said he, chuckling to himself. “The question now is about h?moglobin. No doubt you see the significance of this discovery of mine?”　　“It is interesting, chemically, no doubt,” I answered, “but practically—”　　“Why, man, it is the most practical medico-legal discovery for years. Dont you see that it gives us an infallible test for blood stains? Come over here now!” He seized me by the coatsleeve in his eagerness, and drew me over to the table at which he had been working. “Let us have some fresh blood,” he said, digging a long bodkin into his finger, and drawing off the resulting drop of blood in a chemical pipette. “Now, I add this small quantity of blood to a litre of water. You perceive that the resulting mixture has the appearance of pure water. The proportion of blood cannot be more than one in a million. I have no doubt, however, that we shall be able to obtain the characteristic reaction.” As he spoke, he threw into the vessel a few white crystals, and then added some drops of a transparent fluid. In an instant the contents assumed a dull mahogany colour, and a brownish dust was precipitated to the bottom of the glass jar.　　“Ha! ha!” he cried, clapping his hands, and looking as delighted as a child with a new toy. “What do you think of that?”　　“It seems to be a very delicate test,” I remarked.　　“Beautiful! beautiful! The old guaiacum test was very clumsy and uncertain. So is the microscopic examination for blood corpuscles. The latter is valueless if the stains are a few hours old. Now, this appears to act as well whether the blood is old or new. Had this test been invented, there are hundreds of men now walking the earth who would long ago have paid the penalty of their crimes.”　　“Indeed!” I murmured.　　“Criminal cases are continually hinging upon that one point. A man is suspected of a crime months perhaps after it has been committed. His linen or clothes are examined and brownish stains discovered upon them. Are they blood stains, or mud stains, or rust stains, or fruit stains, or what are they? That is a question which has puzzled many an expert, and why? Because there was no reliable test. Now we have the Sherlock Holmess test, and there will no longer be any difficulty.”　　His eyes fairly glittered as he spoke, and he put his hand over his heart and bowed as if to some applauding crowd conjured up by his imagination.　　“You are to be congratulated,” I remarked, considerably surprised at his enthusiasm.　　“There was the case of Von Bischoff at Frankfort last year. He would certainly have been hung had this test been in existence. Then there was Mason of Bradford, and the notorious Muller, and Lefevre of Montpellier, and Samson of New Orleans. I could name a score of cases in which it would have been decisive.”　　“You seem to be a walking calendar of crime,” said Stamford with a laugh. “You might start a paper on those lines. Call it the Police News of the Past.”　　“Very interesting reading it might be made, too,” remarked Sherlock Holmes, sticking a small piece of plaster over the prick on his finger. “I have to be careful,” he continued, turning to me with a smile, “for I dabble with poisons a good deal.” He held out his hand as he spoke, and I noticed that it was all mottled over with similar pieces of plaster, and discoloured with strong acids.　　“We came here on business,” said Stamford, sitting down on a high three-legged stool, and pushing another one in my direction with his foot. “My friend here wants to take diggings; and as you were complaining that you could get no one to go halves with you, I thought that I had better bring you together.”　　Sherlock Holmes seemed delighted at the idea of sharing his rooms with me. “I have my eye on a suite in Baker Street,” he said, “which would suit us down to the ground. You dont mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope?”　　“I always smoke ships myself,” I answered.　　“Thats good enough. I generally have chemicals about, and occasionally do experiments. Would that annoy you?”　　“By no means.”　　“Let me see—what are my other shortcomings? I get in the dumps at times, and dont open my mouth for days on end. You must not think I am sulky when I do that. Just let me alone, and Ill soon be right. What have you to confess now? Its just as well for two fellows to know the worst of one another before they begin to live together.”　　I laughed at this cross-examination. “I keep a bull pup,” I said, “and I object to rows because my nerves are shaken, and I get up at all sorts of ungodly hours, and I am extremely lazy. I have another set of vices when Im well, but those are the principal ones at present.”　　“Do you include violin playing in your category of rows?” he asked, anxiously.　　“It depends on the player,” I answered. “A well-played violin is a treat for the gods—a badly played one—”　　“Oh, thats all right,” he cried, with a merry laugh. “I think we may consider the thing as settled—that is, if the rooms are agreeable to you.”　　“When shall we see them?”　　“Call for me here at noon to-morrow, and well go together and settle everything” he answered.　　“All right—noon exactly,” said I, shaking his hand.　　We left him working among his chemicals, and we walked together towards my hotel.　　“By the way,” I asked suddenly, stopping and turning upon Stamford, “how the deuce did he know that I had come from Afghanistan?”　　My companion smiled an enigmatical smile. “Thats just his little peculiarity,” he said. “A good many people have wanted to know how he finds things out.”　　“Oh! a mystery is it?” I cried, rubbing my hands. “This is very piquaut. I am much obliged to you gor bringing us together. The proper study of mankind is man, you know.”　　“You must study him, then,” Stamford said, as he bade me good-bye. “Youll find him a knotty problem, though. Ill wager he learns more about you than you about him. Good-bye.”　　“Good-bye,” I answered, and strolled on to my hotel, considerably interested in my new acquaintance.

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　　同名英文原版書火熱銷售中：A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four

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