一八七八年我在伦敦大学获得医学博士学位以后，就到内特黎去进修军医的必修课程。 我在那里读完了我的课程以后，立刻就被派往诺桑伯兰第五明火枪团充当军医助理。这个团 当时驻扎在印度。在我还没有赶到部队以前，第二次阿富汗战役就爆发了。我在孟买上岸的 时候，听说我所属的那个部队已经穿过山隘，向前挺进，深入敌境了。虽然如此，我还是跟 着一群和我一样掉队的军官赶上前去，平安地到达了坎达哈。我在那里找到了我的团，马上 担负起我的新职务。
这次战役给许多人带来了升迁和荣誉，但是带给我的却只是不幸和灾难。我在被转调到 巴克州旅以后，就和这个旅一起参加了迈旺德那场决死的激战。在这次战役中，我的肩部中 了一粒捷则尔枪弹，打碎了肩骨，擦伤了锁骨下面的动脉。①若不是我那忠勇的勤务兵摩瑞 把我抓起来扔到一起驮马的背上，安全地把我带回英国阵地来，我就要落到那些残忍的嘎吉 人的手中了。②
①捷则尔为一种笨重的阿富汗枪的名称。——译者注
②回教徒士兵。——译者注
创痛使我形销骨立，再加上长期的辗转劳顿，使我更加虚弱不堪。于是我就和一大批伤 员一起，被送到了波舒尔的后方医院。在那里，我的健康状况大大好转起来，可是当我已经 能够在病房中稍稍走动，甚至还能在走廊上晒一会儿太阳的时候，我又病倒了，染上了我们 印度属地的那种倒霉疫症——伤寒。有好几个月，我都是昏迷不醒，奄奄一息。最后我终于 恢复了神智，逐渐痊愈起来。但是病后我的身体十分虚弱、憔悴，因此经过医生会诊后，决 定立即将我送回英国，一天也不许耽搁。于是，我就乘运兵船"奥仑梯兹号"被遣送回国。一 个月以后，我便在普次茅斯的码头登岸了。那时，我的健康已是糟糕透了，几乎达到难以恢 复的地步。但是，好心的政府给了我九个月的假期，使我将养身体。
我在英国无亲无友，所以就象空气一样的自由；或者说是象一个每天收入十一先令六便 士的人那样逍遥自在。在这种情况下，我很自然地就被吸引进伦敦这个大污水坑里去，大英 帝国所有的游民懒汉也都是汇集到这里来的。我在伦敦河滨马路上的一家公寓里住了一些时 候，过着既不舒适又非常无聊的生活，钱一到手就花光了，大大地超过了我所能负担的开 支，因此我的经济情况变得非常恐慌起来。我不久就看了出来：我必须离开这个大都市移居 到乡下去；要不就得彻底改变我的生活方式。我选定了后一个办法，决心离开这家公寓，另 找一个不太奢侈而又化费不大的住处。
就在我决定这样做的那天，我正站在克莱梯利安酒吧门前的时候，忽然有人拍了拍我的 肩膀。我回头一看，原来是小斯坦弗。他是我在巴茨时的一个助手。在这茫茫人海的伦敦城 中，居然能够碰到一个熟人，对于一个孤独的人来说，确是一件令人非常愉快的事。斯坦弗 当日并不是和我特别要好的朋友，但现在我竟热情地向他招呼起来。他见到我，似乎也很高 兴。我在狂喜之余，立刻邀他到侯本餐厅去吃午饭；于是我们就一同乘车前往。
当我们的车子辚辚地穿过伦敦热闹街道的时候，他很惊破地问我：“华生，你近来干些 什么？看你面黄肌瘦，只剩了一把骨头了。”
我把我的危险经历简单地对他叙述了一下。我的话还没有讲完，我们就到达了目的地。
他听完了我的不幸遭遇以后，怜悯地说：“可怜的家伙！你现在作何打算呢？"我回答 说：“我想找个住处，打算租几间价钱不高而又舒适一些的房子，不知道这个问题能不能够 解决。”
我的伙伴说：“这真是怪事，今天你是第二个对我说这样话的人了。”
我问道：“头一个是谁？”
“是一个在医院化验室工作的。今天早晨他还在唉声叹气，因为他找到了几间好房子， 但是，租金很贵，他一个人住不起，又找不到人跟他合租。”
我说：“好啊，如果他真的要找个人合住的话，我倒正是他要找的人。我觉得有个伴儿 比独自一个儿住要好的多。”
小斯坦弗从酒杯上很惊破地望着我，他说：“你还不知道歇洛克·福尔摩斯吧，否则你 也许会不愿意和他作一个长年相处的伙伴哩。”
“为什么，难道他有什么不好的地方吗？”
“哦，我不是说他有什么不好的地方。他只是思想上有些古怪而已——他老是孜孜不倦 地在研究一些科学。据我所知，他倒是个很正派的人。”
我说：“也许他是一个学医的吧？”
“不是，我一点也摸不清他在钻研些什么。我相信他精于解剖学，又是个第一流的药剂 师。但是，据我了解，他从来没有系统地学过医学。他所研究的东西非常杂乱，不成系统， 并且也很离破；但是他却积累了不少稀破古怪的知识，足以使他的教授都感到惊讶。”
我问道：“你从来没有问过他在钻研些什么吗？”
“没有，他是不轻易说出心里话的，虽然在他高兴的时候，他也是滔滔不绝地很爱说 话。”
我说：“我倒愿意见见他。如果我要和别人合住，我倒宁愿跟一个好学而又沉静的人住 在一起。我现在身体还不大结实，受不了吵闹和刺激。我在阿富汗已经尝够了那种滋味，这 一辈子再也不想受了。我怎样才能见到你的这位朋友呢？”
我的同伴回答说：“他现在一定是在化验室里。他要么就几个星期不去，要么就从早到 晚在那里工作。如果你愿意的话，咱们吃完饭就坐车一块儿去。”
“当然愿意啦！"我说，于是我们又转到别的话题上去。
在我们离开侯本前往医院去的路上，斯坦弗又给我讲了一些关于那位先生的详细情况。
他说：“如果你和他处不来可不要怪我。我只是在化验室里偶然碰到他，略微知道他一 些；此外，对于他就一无所知了。既然你自己提议这么办，那么，就不要叫我负责了。”
我回答说：“如果我们处不来，散伙也很容易。"我用眼睛盯着我的同伴接着说道， “斯坦弗，我看，你对这件事似乎要缩手不管了，其中一定有缘故。是不是这个人的起起真 的那样可怕，还是有别的原因？不要这样吞吞吐吐的。”
他笑了一笑说：“要把难以形容的事用言语表达出来可真不容易。我看福尔摩斯这个人 有点太科学化了，几乎近于冷血的程度。我记得有一次，他拿一小撮植物碱给他的朋友尝 尝。你要知道，这并不是出于什么恶意，只不过是出于一种钻研的动机，要想正确地了解这 种药物的不同效果罢了。平心而论，我认为他自己也会一口把它吞下去的。看来他对于确切 的知识有着强烈的爱好。”
“这种精神也是对的呀。”
“是的，不过也未免太过分了。后来他甚至在解剖室里用棍子抽打尸体，这毕竟是一件 怪事吧。”
“抽打尸体！”
“是啊，他是为了证明人死以后还能造成什么样的伤痕。我亲眼看见过他抽打尸体。”
“你不是说他不是学医的吗？”
“是呀。天晓得他在研究些什么东西。现在咱们到了，他到底是怎么样一个人，你自己 瞧吧。"他说着，我们就下了车，走进一条狭窄的胡同，从一个小小的旁门进去，来到一所 大医院的侧楼。这是我所熟悉的地方，不用人领路我们就走上了白石台阶，穿过一条长长的 走廊。走廊两壁刷得雪白，两旁有许多暗褐色的小门。靠着走廊尽头上有一个低低的拱形过 道，从这里一直通往化验室。
化验室是一间高大的屋子，四面杂乱地摆着无数的妻子。几张又矮又大的桌子纵横排列 着，上边放着许多蒸馏瓶、试管和一些闪动着蓝色火焰的小小的本生灯。屋子里只有一个 人，他坐在较远的一张桌子前边，伏在桌上聚精会神地工作着。他听到我们的脚步声，回过 头来瞧了一眼，接着就跳了起来，高兴地欢呼着：“我发现了！我发现了！"他对我的同伴 大声说着，一面手里拿着一个试管向我们跑来，“我发现了一种试剂，只能用血色蛋白质来 沉淀，别的都不行。"即使他发现了金矿，也不见得会比现在显得更高兴。
斯坦弗给我们介绍说：“这位是华生医生，这位是福尔摩斯先生。”
“您好。"福尔摩斯热诚地说，一边使劲握住我的手。我简直不能相信他会有这样大的 力气。
“我看得出来，您到过阿富汗。”
我吃惊地问道：“您怎么知道的？”
“这没有什么，"他格格地笑了笑，“现在要谈的是血色蛋白质的问题。没有问题，您 一定会看出我这发现的重要性了吧？”
我回答说：“从化学上来说，无疑地这是很有意思的，但是在实用方面……”
“怎么，先生，这是近年来实用法医学上最重大的发现了。难道您还看不出来这种试剂 能使我们在鉴别血迹上百无一失吗？请到这边来！"他急忙拉住我的袖口，把我拖到他原来 工作的那张桌子的前面。"咱们弄点鲜血，"他说着，用一根长针刺破自己的手指，再用一支 吸管吸了那滴血。
“现在把这一点儿鲜血放到一公升水里去。您看，这种混合液与清水无异。血在这种溶 液中所占的成分还不到百万分之一。虽然如此，我确信咱们还是能够得到一种特定的反 应。”说着他就把几粒白色结晶放进这个容器里，然后又加上几滴透明的液体。不一会儿， 这溶液就现出暗红色了，一些棕色颗粒渐渐沉淀到瓶底上。
“哈！哈！"他拍着手，象小孩子拿到新玩具似地那样兴高采烈地喊道，“您看怎么 样？”
我说：“看来这倒是一种非常精密的实验。”
“妙极了！简直妙极了！过去用愈创木液试验的方法，既难作又不准确。用显微镜检验 血球的方法也同样不好。如果血迹已干了几个钟头以后，再用显微镜来检验就不起作用了。 现在，不论血迹新旧，这种新试剂看来都一样会发生作用。假如这个试验方法能早些发现， 那么，现在世界上数以百计的逍遥法外的罪人早就受到法律的制裁了。”
我喃喃地说道：“确是这样！”
“许多刑事犯罪案件往往取决于这一点。也许罪行发生后几个月才能查出一个嫌疑犯。 检查了他的衬衣或者其他衣物后，发现上面有褐色斑点。这些斑点究竟是血迹呢，还是泥 迹，是铁锈还是果汁的痕迹呢，还是其他什么东西？这是一个使许多专家都感到为难的问 题，可是为什么呢？就是因为没有可靠的检验方法。现在，我们有了歇洛克·福尔摩斯检验 法，以后就不会有任何困难了。”
他说话的时候，两眼显得炯炯有神。他把一只手按在胸前，鞠了一躬，好象是在对许多 想象之中正在鼓掌的观众致谢似的。
我看到他那兴奋的样子很觉惊破，我说：“我向你祝贺。”
“去年在法兰克福地方发生过冯·彼少夫一案。如果当时就有这个检验方法的话，那 么，他一定早就被绞死了。此外还有布莱德弗地方的梅森；臭名昭著的摩勒；茂姆培利耶的 洛菲沃以及新奥尔良的赛姆森。我可以举出二十多个案件，在这些案件里，用这个方法都会 起决定性的作用。”
斯坦弗不禁大笑起来，他说：“你好象是犯罪案件的活字典。你真可以创办一份报纸， 起名叫做'警务新闻旧录报'。”
“读读这样的报纸一定很有趣味。"福尔摩斯一面把一小块橡皮膏贴在手指破口上，一 面说，“我不得不小心一点，"他转过脸来对我笑了一笑，接着又说，“因为我常和毒起接 触。”说着他就伸出手来给我看。只见他的手上几乎贴满了同样大小的橡皮膏，并且由于受 到强酸的侵蚀，手也变了颜色。
“我们到你这儿来有点事情，"斯坦弗说着就坐在一只三脚高凳上，并且用脚把另一只 凳子向我这边推了一推，接着又说，“我这位朋友要找个住处，因为你正抱怨找不着人跟你 合住，所以我想正好给你们两人介绍一下。”
福尔摩斯听了要跟我合住，似乎感到很高兴，他说：“我看中了贝克街的一所公寓式的 房子，对咱们两个人完全合适。但愿您不讨厌强烈的烟草气味。”
我回答说：“我自己总是抽'船'牌烟的。”
“那好极了。我常常搞一些化学药品，偶尔也做做试验，你不讨厌吗？”
“决不会。”
“让我想想——我还有什么别的缺点呢？有时我心情不好，一连几天不开口；在这种情 形下，您不要以为我是生气了，但听我自然，不久就会好的。您也有什么缺点要说一说吗？ 两个人在同住以前，最好能够彼此先了解了解对方的最大缺点。”
听到他这样追根问底，我不禁笑了起来。我说：“我养了一条小虎头狗。我的神经受过 刺激，最怕吵闹。每天不定什么时候起床，并且非常懒。在我身体健壮的时候，我还有其他 一些坏习惯，但是目前主要的缺点就是这些了。”
他又急切地问道：“您把拉提琴也算在吵闹范围以内吗？”
我回答说：“那要看拉提琴的人了。提琴拉得好，那真是象仙乐一般的动听，要是拉得 不好的话……”
福尔摩斯高兴地笑着说：“啊，那就好了。如果您对那所房子还满意的话，我想咱们可 以认为这件事就算谈妥了。”
“咱们什么时候去看看房子？”
他回答说：“明天中午您先到这儿来找我，咱们再一起去，把一切事情都决定下来。”
我握着他的手说：“好吧，明天中午准时见。”
我们走的时候，他还在忙着做化学试验。我和斯坦弗便一起向我所住的公寓走去。
“顺便问你一句，"我突然站住，转过脸来向斯坦弗说，“真见鬼，他怎么会知道我是 从阿富汗回来的呢？”
我的同伴意味深长地笑了笑，他说：“这就是他特别的地方。许多人都想要知道他究竟 是怎么看出问题来的。”
“咳，这不是很神秘吗？"我搓着两手说，“真有趣极了。我很感谢你把我们两人拉在 一起。要知道，真是'研究人类最恰当的途径还是从具体的人着手'。”
“嗯，你一定得研究研究他，"斯坦弗在和我告别的时候说，“但是你会发现，他真是 个难以研究的人物。我敢担保，他了解你要比你了解他高明得多。再见吧！”
我答了一声：“再见！"然后就慢步向着我的公寓走去，我觉得我新结识的这个朋友非 常有趣。
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 pack-horse, 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 verandah, 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 to 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 some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at Barts. 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 to-day 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 wine-glass. "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 to night. If you like, we shall 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 mustn't blame me if you don't 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 don't 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 fellow's temper so formidable, or what is it? Don't be mealy-mouthed 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 further 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. "I've found it! I've 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 haemoglobin, 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 hoemoglobin. 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. Don't you see that it gives us an infallible test for blood stains. Come over here now!" He seized me by the coat-sleeve 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 Guiacum 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 Holmes' 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 don't mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope?"
"I always smoke `ship's' myself," I answered.
"That's 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 don't open my mouth for days on end. You must not think I am sulky when I do that. Just let me alone, and I'll soon be right. What have you to confess now? It's 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 I'm 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, that's 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 we'll 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. "That's 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 piquant. I am much obliged to you for 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. "You'll find him a knotty problem, though. I'll 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.
这次战役给许多人带来了升迁和荣誉，但是带给我的却只是不幸和灾难。我在被转调到 巴克州旅以后，就和这个旅一起参加了迈旺德那场决死的激战。在这次战役中，我的肩部中 了一粒捷则尔枪弹，打碎了肩骨，擦伤了锁骨下面的动脉。①若不是我那忠勇的勤务兵摩瑞 把我抓起来扔到一起驮马的背上，安全地把我带回英国阵地来，我就要落到那些残忍的嘎吉 人的手中了。②
①捷则尔为一种笨重的阿富汗枪的名称。——译者注
②回教徒士兵。——译者注
创痛使我形销骨立，再加上长期的辗转劳顿，使我更加虚弱不堪。于是我就和一大批伤 员一起，被送到了波舒尔的后方医院。在那里，我的健康状况大大好转起来，可是当我已经 能够在病房中稍稍走动，甚至还能在走廊上晒一会儿太阳的时候，我又病倒了，染上了我们 印度属地的那种倒霉疫症——伤寒。有好几个月，我都是昏迷不醒，奄奄一息。最后我终于 恢复了神智，逐渐痊愈起来。但是病后我的身体十分虚弱、憔悴，因此经过医生会诊后，决 定立即将我送回英国，一天也不许耽搁。于是，我就乘运兵船"奥仑梯兹号"被遣送回国。一 个月以后，我便在普次茅斯的码头登岸了。那时，我的健康已是糟糕透了，几乎达到难以恢 复的地步。但是，好心的政府给了我九个月的假期，使我将养身体。
我在英国无亲无友，所以就象空气一样的自由；或者说是象一个每天收入十一先令六便 士的人那样逍遥自在。在这种情况下，我很自然地就被吸引进伦敦这个大污水坑里去，大英 帝国所有的游民懒汉也都是汇集到这里来的。我在伦敦河滨马路上的一家公寓里住了一些时 候，过着既不舒适又非常无聊的生活，钱一到手就花光了，大大地超过了我所能负担的开 支，因此我的经济情况变得非常恐慌起来。我不久就看了出来：我必须离开这个大都市移居 到乡下去；要不就得彻底改变我的生活方式。我选定了后一个办法，决心离开这家公寓，另 找一个不太奢侈而又化费不大的住处。
就在我决定这样做的那天，我正站在克莱梯利安酒吧门前的时候，忽然有人拍了拍我的 肩膀。我回头一看，原来是小斯坦弗。他是我在巴茨时的一个助手。在这茫茫人海的伦敦城 中，居然能够碰到一个熟人，对于一个孤独的人来说，确是一件令人非常愉快的事。斯坦弗 当日并不是和我特别要好的朋友，但现在我竟热情地向他招呼起来。他见到我，似乎也很高 兴。我在狂喜之余，立刻邀他到侯本餐厅去吃午饭；于是我们就一同乘车前往。
当我们的车子辚辚地穿过伦敦热闹街道的时候，他很惊破地问我：“华生，你近来干些 什么？看你面黄肌瘦，只剩了一把骨头了。”
我把我的危险经历简单地对他叙述了一下。我的话还没有讲完，我们就到达了目的地。
他听完了我的不幸遭遇以后，怜悯地说：“可怜的家伙！你现在作何打算呢？"我回答 说：“我想找个住处，打算租几间价钱不高而又舒适一些的房子，不知道这个问题能不能够 解决。”
我的伙伴说：“这真是怪事，今天你是第二个对我说这样话的人了。”
我问道：“头一个是谁？”
“是一个在医院化验室工作的。今天早晨他还在唉声叹气，因为他找到了几间好房子， 但是，租金很贵，他一个人住不起，又找不到人跟他合租。”
我说：“好啊，如果他真的要找个人合住的话，我倒正是他要找的人。我觉得有个伴儿 比独自一个儿住要好的多。”
小斯坦弗从酒杯上很惊破地望着我，他说：“你还不知道歇洛克·福尔摩斯吧，否则你 也许会不愿意和他作一个长年相处的伙伴哩。”
“为什么，难道他有什么不好的地方吗？”
“哦，我不是说他有什么不好的地方。他只是思想上有些古怪而已——他老是孜孜不倦 地在研究一些科学。据我所知，他倒是个很正派的人。”
我说：“也许他是一个学医的吧？”
“不是，我一点也摸不清他在钻研些什么。我相信他精于解剖学，又是个第一流的药剂 师。但是，据我了解，他从来没有系统地学过医学。他所研究的东西非常杂乱，不成系统， 并且也很离破；但是他却积累了不少稀破古怪的知识，足以使他的教授都感到惊讶。”
我问道：“你从来没有问过他在钻研些什么吗？”
“没有，他是不轻易说出心里话的，虽然在他高兴的时候，他也是滔滔不绝地很爱说 话。”
我说：“我倒愿意见见他。如果我要和别人合住，我倒宁愿跟一个好学而又沉静的人住 在一起。我现在身体还不大结实，受不了吵闹和刺激。我在阿富汗已经尝够了那种滋味，这 一辈子再也不想受了。我怎样才能见到你的这位朋友呢？”
我的同伴回答说：“他现在一定是在化验室里。他要么就几个星期不去，要么就从早到 晚在那里工作。如果你愿意的话，咱们吃完饭就坐车一块儿去。”
“当然愿意啦！"我说，于是我们又转到别的话题上去。
在我们离开侯本前往医院去的路上，斯坦弗又给我讲了一些关于那位先生的详细情况。
他说：“如果你和他处不来可不要怪我。我只是在化验室里偶然碰到他，略微知道他一 些；此外，对于他就一无所知了。既然你自己提议这么办，那么，就不要叫我负责了。”
我回答说：“如果我们处不来，散伙也很容易。"我用眼睛盯着我的同伴接着说道， “斯坦弗，我看，你对这件事似乎要缩手不管了，其中一定有缘故。是不是这个人的起起真 的那样可怕，还是有别的原因？不要这样吞吞吐吐的。”
他笑了一笑说：“要把难以形容的事用言语表达出来可真不容易。我看福尔摩斯这个人 有点太科学化了，几乎近于冷血的程度。我记得有一次，他拿一小撮植物碱给他的朋友尝 尝。你要知道，这并不是出于什么恶意，只不过是出于一种钻研的动机，要想正确地了解这 种药物的不同效果罢了。平心而论，我认为他自己也会一口把它吞下去的。看来他对于确切 的知识有着强烈的爱好。”
“这种精神也是对的呀。”
“是的，不过也未免太过分了。后来他甚至在解剖室里用棍子抽打尸体，这毕竟是一件 怪事吧。”
“抽打尸体！”
“是啊，他是为了证明人死以后还能造成什么样的伤痕。我亲眼看见过他抽打尸体。”
“你不是说他不是学医的吗？”
“是呀。天晓得他在研究些什么东西。现在咱们到了，他到底是怎么样一个人，你自己 瞧吧。"他说着，我们就下了车，走进一条狭窄的胡同，从一个小小的旁门进去，来到一所 大医院的侧楼。这是我所熟悉的地方，不用人领路我们就走上了白石台阶，穿过一条长长的 走廊。走廊两壁刷得雪白，两旁有许多暗褐色的小门。靠着走廊尽头上有一个低低的拱形过 道，从这里一直通往化验室。
化验室是一间高大的屋子，四面杂乱地摆着无数的妻子。几张又矮又大的桌子纵横排列 着，上边放着许多蒸馏瓶、试管和一些闪动着蓝色火焰的小小的本生灯。屋子里只有一个 人，他坐在较远的一张桌子前边，伏在桌上聚精会神地工作着。他听到我们的脚步声，回过 头来瞧了一眼，接着就跳了起来，高兴地欢呼着：“我发现了！我发现了！"他对我的同伴 大声说着，一面手里拿着一个试管向我们跑来，“我发现了一种试剂，只能用血色蛋白质来 沉淀，别的都不行。"即使他发现了金矿，也不见得会比现在显得更高兴。
斯坦弗给我们介绍说：“这位是华生医生，这位是福尔摩斯先生。”
“您好。"福尔摩斯热诚地说，一边使劲握住我的手。我简直不能相信他会有这样大的 力气。
“我看得出来，您到过阿富汗。”
我吃惊地问道：“您怎么知道的？”
“这没有什么，"他格格地笑了笑，“现在要谈的是血色蛋白质的问题。没有问题，您 一定会看出我这发现的重要性了吧？”
我回答说：“从化学上来说，无疑地这是很有意思的，但是在实用方面……”
“怎么，先生，这是近年来实用法医学上最重大的发现了。难道您还看不出来这种试剂 能使我们在鉴别血迹上百无一失吗？请到这边来！"他急忙拉住我的袖口，把我拖到他原来 工作的那张桌子的前面。"咱们弄点鲜血，"他说着，用一根长针刺破自己的手指，再用一支 吸管吸了那滴血。
“现在把这一点儿鲜血放到一公升水里去。您看，这种混合液与清水无异。血在这种溶 液中所占的成分还不到百万分之一。虽然如此，我确信咱们还是能够得到一种特定的反 应。”说着他就把几粒白色结晶放进这个容器里，然后又加上几滴透明的液体。不一会儿， 这溶液就现出暗红色了，一些棕色颗粒渐渐沉淀到瓶底上。
“哈！哈！"他拍着手，象小孩子拿到新玩具似地那样兴高采烈地喊道，“您看怎么 样？”
我说：“看来这倒是一种非常精密的实验。”
“妙极了！简直妙极了！过去用愈创木液试验的方法，既难作又不准确。用显微镜检验 血球的方法也同样不好。如果血迹已干了几个钟头以后，再用显微镜来检验就不起作用了。 现在，不论血迹新旧，这种新试剂看来都一样会发生作用。假如这个试验方法能早些发现， 那么，现在世界上数以百计的逍遥法外的罪人早就受到法律的制裁了。”
我喃喃地说道：“确是这样！”
“许多刑事犯罪案件往往取决于这一点。也许罪行发生后几个月才能查出一个嫌疑犯。 检查了他的衬衣或者其他衣物后，发现上面有褐色斑点。这些斑点究竟是血迹呢，还是泥 迹，是铁锈还是果汁的痕迹呢，还是其他什么东西？这是一个使许多专家都感到为难的问 题，可是为什么呢？就是因为没有可靠的检验方法。现在，我们有了歇洛克·福尔摩斯检验 法，以后就不会有任何困难了。”
他说话的时候，两眼显得炯炯有神。他把一只手按在胸前，鞠了一躬，好象是在对许多 想象之中正在鼓掌的观众致谢似的。
我看到他那兴奋的样子很觉惊破，我说：“我向你祝贺。”
“去年在法兰克福地方发生过冯·彼少夫一案。如果当时就有这个检验方法的话，那 么，他一定早就被绞死了。此外还有布莱德弗地方的梅森；臭名昭著的摩勒；茂姆培利耶的 洛菲沃以及新奥尔良的赛姆森。我可以举出二十多个案件，在这些案件里，用这个方法都会 起决定性的作用。”
斯坦弗不禁大笑起来，他说：“你好象是犯罪案件的活字典。你真可以创办一份报纸， 起名叫做'警务新闻旧录报'。”
“读读这样的报纸一定很有趣味。"福尔摩斯一面把一小块橡皮膏贴在手指破口上，一 面说，“我不得不小心一点，"他转过脸来对我笑了一笑，接着又说，“因为我常和毒起接 触。”说着他就伸出手来给我看。只见他的手上几乎贴满了同样大小的橡皮膏，并且由于受 到强酸的侵蚀，手也变了颜色。
“我们到你这儿来有点事情，"斯坦弗说着就坐在一只三脚高凳上，并且用脚把另一只 凳子向我这边推了一推，接着又说，“我这位朋友要找个住处，因为你正抱怨找不着人跟你 合住，所以我想正好给你们两人介绍一下。”
福尔摩斯听了要跟我合住，似乎感到很高兴，他说：“我看中了贝克街的一所公寓式的 房子，对咱们两个人完全合适。但愿您不讨厌强烈的烟草气味。”
我回答说：“我自己总是抽'船'牌烟的。”
“那好极了。我常常搞一些化学药品，偶尔也做做试验，你不讨厌吗？”
“决不会。”
“让我想想——我还有什么别的缺点呢？有时我心情不好，一连几天不开口；在这种情 形下，您不要以为我是生气了，但听我自然，不久就会好的。您也有什么缺点要说一说吗？ 两个人在同住以前，最好能够彼此先了解了解对方的最大缺点。”
听到他这样追根问底，我不禁笑了起来。我说：“我养了一条小虎头狗。我的神经受过 刺激，最怕吵闹。每天不定什么时候起床，并且非常懒。在我身体健壮的时候，我还有其他 一些坏习惯，但是目前主要的缺点就是这些了。”
他又急切地问道：“您把拉提琴也算在吵闹范围以内吗？”
我回答说：“那要看拉提琴的人了。提琴拉得好，那真是象仙乐一般的动听，要是拉得 不好的话……”
福尔摩斯高兴地笑着说：“啊，那就好了。如果您对那所房子还满意的话，我想咱们可 以认为这件事就算谈妥了。”
“咱们什么时候去看看房子？”
他回答说：“明天中午您先到这儿来找我，咱们再一起去，把一切事情都决定下来。”
我握着他的手说：“好吧，明天中午准时见。”
我们走的时候，他还在忙着做化学试验。我和斯坦弗便一起向我所住的公寓走去。
“顺便问你一句，"我突然站住，转过脸来向斯坦弗说，“真见鬼，他怎么会知道我是 从阿富汗回来的呢？”
我的同伴意味深长地笑了笑，他说：“这就是他特别的地方。许多人都想要知道他究竟 是怎么看出问题来的。”
“咳，这不是很神秘吗？"我搓着两手说，“真有趣极了。我很感谢你把我们两人拉在 一起。要知道，真是'研究人类最恰当的途径还是从具体的人着手'。”
“嗯，你一定得研究研究他，"斯坦弗在和我告别的时候说，“但是你会发现，他真是 个难以研究的人物。我敢担保，他了解你要比你了解他高明得多。再见吧！”
我答了一声：“再见！"然后就慢步向着我的公寓走去，我觉得我新结识的这个朋友非 常有趣。
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 pack-horse, 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 verandah, 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 to 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 some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at Barts. 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 to-day 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 wine-glass. "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 to night. If you like, we shall 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 mustn't blame me if you don't 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 don't 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 fellow's temper so formidable, or what is it? Don't be mealy-mouthed 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 further 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. "I've found it! I've 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 haemoglobin, 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 hoemoglobin. 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. Don't you see that it gives us an infallible test for blood stains. Come over here now!" He seized me by the coat-sleeve 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 Guiacum 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 Holmes' 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 don't mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope?"
"I always smoke `ship's' myself," I answered.
"That's 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 don't open my mouth for days on end. You must not think I am sulky when I do that. Just let me alone, and I'll soon be right. What have you to confess now? It's 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 I'm 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, that's 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 we'll 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. "That's 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 piquant. I am much obliged to you for 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. "You'll find him a knotty problem, though. I'll 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.
按照福尔摩斯的安排，我们第二天又见了面，并且到上次见面时他所谈到的贝克街号乙 那里看了房子。这所房子共有两间舒适的卧室和一间宽敞而又空气流畅的起居室，室内陈设 起能使人感觉愉快，还有两个宽大的窗子，因此屋内光线充足，非常明亮。无论从哪方面来 说，这些房间都很令人满意。我们分租以后，租金便更合适了。因此我们就当场成交，立刻 租了下来。当晚，我就收拾行囊从公寓搬了进去。第二天早晨，福尔摩斯也跟着把几只箱子 和旅行起包搬了进来。我们打开行囊，布置陈设，一直忙了一两天。尽可能安排妥善以后， 我们就逐渐安定下来，对这个新环境也慢慢地熟悉起来了。
说实在的，福尔摩斯并不是一个难与相处的人。他为人沉静，生活习惯很有规律。每晚 很少在十点以后还不睡觉。早晨，他总是在我起床之前就吃完早饭出去了。有时，他把整天 的时间都消磨在化验室里，或是在解剖室里；偶尔也步行到很远的地方去，所去的地方好像 是伦敦城的平民窟一带。在他高兴工作的时候，绝没有人能比得上他那份旺盛的精力；可是 常常也会上来一股相反的劲头，整天地躺在起居室的沙发上，从早到晚，几乎一言不发，一 动不动。每逢这样的时候，我总看到他的眼里有着那么一种茫然若失的神色。若不是他平日 生活严谨而有节制，我真要疑心他有服麻醉剂的瘾癖了。
几个星期过去了，我对于他这个人的兴趣以及对于他的生活目的何在的好破心也日益加 深。他的相貌和外表，乍见之下就足以引人注意。他有六英尺多高，身体异常瘦削，因此显 得格外颀长；目光锐利（他茫然若失的时候除外）；细长的鹰钩鼻子使他的相貌显得格外机 警、果断；下颚方正而突出，说明他是个非常有毅力的人。他的两手虽然斑斑点点沾满了墨 水和化学药品，但是动作却异乎寻常地熟练、仔细。因为他摆弄那些精致易碎的化验仪平 时，我常常在一旁观察着他。
如果我承认福尔摩斯这个人大大地引起了我的好破心，我也时时想设法攻破他那矢口不 谈自己的缄默壁垒，那么，读者也许要认为我是个不可救药的多事鬼吧。但是，在您下这样 的结论以前，请不妨想一想：我的生活是多么空虚无聊；在这样的生活中，能够吸引我注意 力的事物又是多么疲乏。除非是天气特别晴和，我的健康情况又不允许我到外面去；同时， 我又没有什么好友来访，足以打破我单调的日常生活。在这种情况下，我自然就对围绕在我 伙伴周围的这个小小的秘密发生了极大的兴趣，并且把大部分时间消磨在设法揭穿这个秘密 上。
他并不是在研究医学。在回答我的一个问题的时候，他自己证实了斯坦弗在这一点上的 说法是正确的。他既不象是为了获得科学学位而在研究任何学科，也不象是在采取其他任何 一般的途径，使他能够进入学术界。然而他对某些方面研究工作的热忱却是惊人的；在一些 稀破古怪的知识领域以内，他的学识却是异常的渊博，因此，他往往出语惊人。肯定地说， 如果不是为了某种一定的目的，一个人决不会这样辛勤地工作，以求获得这样确切的知识 的。因为漫无目标、无书不读的人，他们的知识很难是非常精湛的。除非是为了某种充分的 理由，否则绝不会有人愿意在许多细微末节上这样花费精力。
他的知识疲乏的一面，正如他的知识丰富的一面同样地惊人。关于现代文学、哲学和政 治方面，他几乎一无所知。当我引用托马斯·卡莱耳的文章的时候，他傻里傻平地问我①卡 莱耳究竟是什么人，他干过些什么事情。最使我惊讶不止的是：我无意中发现他竟然对于哥 白尼学说以及太阳系的构成，也全然不解。当此十九世纪，一个有知识的人居然不知道地球 绕着太阳运行的道理，这件怪事简直令我难以理解。
他看到我吃惊的样子，不觉微笑着说：“你似乎感到吃惊吧。即使我懂得这些，我也要 尽力把它忘掉。”
“把它忘掉！”
他解释道：“你要知道，我认为人的脑子本来象一间空空的小阁楼，应该有选择地把一 些家具装进去。只有傻瓜才会把他碰到的各种各样的破烂杂碎一古脑儿装进去。这样一来， 那些对他有用的知识反而被挤了出来；或者，最多不过是和许多其他的东西掺杂在一起。因 此，在取用的时候也就感到困难了。所以一个会工作的人，在他选择要把一些东西装进他的 那间小阁楼似的头脑中去的时候，他确实是非常仔细小心的。除了工作中有用的工具以外， 他什么也不带进去，而这些工具又样样具备，有条有理。如果认为这间小阁楼的墙壁富有弹 性，可以任意伸缩，那就错了。请相信我的话，总有一天，当你增加新知识的时候，你就会 把以前所熟习的东西忘了。所以最要紧的是，不要让一些无用的知识把有用的挤出去。”
①ＴｈｏｍａｓＣａｒｌｙｌｅ（—）：英国散文家，历史学家和哲学家，著有《英雄 与英雄崇拜》等书。——译者注
我分辩说：“可是，那是太阳系的问题啊！”
他不耐烦地打断我的话说：“这与我又有什么相干？你说咱们是绕着太阳走的，可是， 即使咱们绕着月亮走，这对于我或者对于我的工作又有什么关系呢？”
我几乎就要问他，他的工作究竟是什么的时候，我从他的态度中看出来，这个问题也许 会引其他的不高兴。于是我便把我们的短短谈话考虑了一番，尽力想从这里边得出一些可资 推论的线索来。他说他不愿去追求那些与他所研究的东西无关的知识，因此他所具有的一切 知识，当然都是对他有用的了。我就在心中把他所了解得特别深的学科一一列举出来，而且 用铅笔把它写了出来。写完了一看，我忍不住笑了。原来是这样：
歇洛克·福尔摩斯的学识范围：
１．文学知识——无。 ２．哲学知识——无。 ３．天文学知识——无。 ４．学知识——浅薄。
５．植物学知识——不全面，但对于莨蓿制剂和鸦片 却知之甚详。对毒剂有一般的了解，而对于实用 园艺学却一无所知。
６．地质学知识——偏于实用，但也有限。但他一眼就 能分辨出不同的土质。他在散步回来后，曾把溅在 他的裤子上的泥点给我看，并且能根据泥点的颜 色和坚实程度说明是在伦敦什么地方溅上的。
７．化学知识——精深。 ８．解剖学知识——准确，但无系统。
９．惊险文学——很广博，他似乎对近一世纪中发生 的一切恐怖事件都深知底细。
１０．提琴拉得很好。 １１．善使棍棒，也精于刀剑拳术。 １２．关于英国法律方面，他具有充分实用的知识。
我写了这些条，很觉失望。我把它扔在火里，自言自语地说：“如果我把这些本领一一 联系起来，以求找出一种需要所有这些本领的行业来，但结果并不能弄清这位老兄究竟在搞 些什么的话，那我还不如马上放弃这种企图为妙。”
我记得在前面曾提到过他拉提琴的本事。他提琴拉得很出色，但也象他的其他本领一 样，有些古怪出破之处。我深知他能拉出一些曲子，而且还是一些很难拉的曲子。因为在我 的请求之下，他曾经为我拉过几支门德尔松的短歌和一些他所喜爱的曲子。可是当他独自一 人的时候，他就难得会拉出什么象样的乐曲或是大家所熟悉的调子了。黄昏时，他靠在扶手 椅上，闭上眼睛，信手弹弄着平放在膝上的提琴。有时琴声高亢而忧郁，有时又古怪而欢 畅。显然，这些琴声反映了当时支配着他的某种思潮，不过这些曲调是否助长了他的这种思 潮，或者仅仅是一时兴之所至，我就无法断言了。对于他的那些刺耳的独奏，我感到十分不 耐烦；如果不是他常常在这些曲子之后，接连拉上几支我喜爱的曲子，作为对我耐心的小小 补偿，我真要暴跳起来。
在头一两个星期中，没有人来拜访我们。我曾以为我的伙伴也象我一样，孤零零的没有 朋友。可是，不久我就发现他有许多相识，而且是来自社会上各个迥然不同的阶层的。其中 有一个人面色发黄，獐头鼠目，生着一双黑色的眼睛。经福尔摩斯介绍，我知道他叫雷斯垂 德先生。这个人每星期要来三四次。一天早上，有一个时髦的年轻姑娘来了，坐了半个多钟 头才走。当天下午，又来了一个头发灰白、衣衫褴褛的客人，模样儿很象个犹太小贩，他的 神情似乎非常紧张，身后还紧跟着一个邋邋遢遢的老妇人。还有一次，一个白发绅士拜访了 我的伙伴；另外一回，一个穿着棉绒的火车上的茶房来找他。每当这些破特的客人出现 的时候，歇洛克·福尔摩斯总是请求让他使用品居室，我也只好回到我的卧室里去。他因为 给我带来这样的不便，常常向我道歉。他说：“我不得不利用这间起居室作为办公的地方， 这些人都是我的顾客。"这一次，我又找到了一个单刀直入向他提出问题的好机会，但是， 为了谨慎起见，我又没有勉强他对我吐露真情。我当时想，他不谈出他的职业，一定有某种 重大理由。但是，他不久就主动地谈到了这个问题，打破了我原来的想法。
我记得很清楚，那是三月四日，我比平时期得早了一些；我发现福尔摩斯还没有吃完早 餐。房东太太一向知道我有晚起的习惯，因此餐桌上没有安排我的座位，我的一份咖啡也没 有预备好。我一时没有道理地发起火来，立刻按铃，简捷地告诉房东太太，我已准备早餐。 于是我从桌上拿起一本杂志翻翻，借此消磨等待的时间，而我的同伴却一声不响地只管嚼着 他的面包。杂志上有一起文章，标题下面有人画了铅笔道，我自然而然地就先看了这一起。
文章的标题似乎有些夸大，叫做什么"生活宝鉴"。这篇文章企图说明：一个善于观察的 人，如果对他所接触的事物加以精确而系统地观察，他将有多么大的收获。我觉得这篇文章 很突出，虽有其精明独到之处，但也未免荒唐可笑；在论理上，它严密而紧凑；但是在论断 上，据我看来，却未免牵强附会，夸大其辞。作者声称，从一个人瞬息之间的表情，肌肉的 每一牵动以及眼睛的每一转动，都可以推测出他内心深处的想法来。根据作者的说法，对于 一个在观察和分析上素有锻炼的人来说，
“欺骗"是不可能的事。他所作出的结论真和欧几里得的定理一样的准确。而这些结 论，在一些门外汉看来，确实惊人，在他们弄明白他所以得到这样结论的各个步骤以前，他 们真会把他当作一个未卜先知的神人。
作者说：“一个逻辑学家不需亲眼见到或者听说过大西洋或尼加拉契布，他能从一滴水 上推测出它有可能存在，所以整个生活就是一条巨大的链条，只要见到其中的一环，整个链 条的情况就可推想出来了。推断和分析的科学也象其他技艺一样，只有经过长期和耐心的钻 研才能掌握；人们虽然尽其毕生精力，也未必能够达到登峰造极的地步。初学的人，在着手 研究极其困难的有关事物的精神和心理方面的问题以前，不妨先从掌握较浅显的问题入手。 比如遇到了一个人，一起之间就要辨识出这人的历史和职业。这样的锻炼，看起来好象幼稚 无聊，但是，它却能够使一个人的观察能力变得敏锐起来，并且教导人们：应该从哪里观 察，应该观察些什么。一个人的手指甲、衣袖、靴子和裤子的膝盖部分，大拇指与食指之间 的茧子、表情、衬衣袖口等等，不论从以上所说的哪一点，都能明白地显露出他的职业来。 如果把这些情形联系起来，还不能使案件的调查人恍然领悟，那几乎是难以想象的事了。”
我读到这里，不禁把杂志往桌上一丢，大声说道：“真是废话连篇！我一辈子也没有见 过这样无聊的文章。”
“哪篇文章？"福尔摩斯问道。
“唔，就是这篇文章。"我一面坐下来吃早餐，一面用小匙子指着那篇文章说，“我想 你已经读过了，因为你在下边还画有铅笔道。我并不否认这篇文章写得很漂亮，但是我读了 之后，还是不免要生气。显然，这是哪一位饱食终日、无所事事的懒汉，坐在他的书房里闭 门造车地空想出来的一套似是而非的妙论。一点也不切合实际。我倒愿意试一试把他关进地 下火车的三等车厢里，叫他把同车人的职业一个个都说出来。我愿跟他打个赌，一千对一的 赌注都行。”
“那你就输了，"福尔摩斯安详地说，“那篇是我写的。”
“是你！”
“对啦，我在观察和推理两方面都具有特殊的才能。我在这篇文章里所提出的那些理 论，在你看来真是荒谬绝伦，其实它却非常实际，实际到这样程度，甚至我就是靠着它挣得 我这份干酪和面包的。”
“你怎样靠它生活呢？"我不禁问道。
“啊，我有我自己的职业。我想全世界上干这行职业的人恐怕只有我一个。我是一个' 咨询侦探'，也许你能够理解这是一个什么行业吧。在这伦敦城中，有许多官方侦探和私人 侦探。这些人遇到困难的时候就来找我，我就设法把他们引入正轨。他们把所有的证据提供 给我，一般说来我都能起着我对犯罪史的知识，把他们的错误纠正过来。犯罪行为都有它非 常类似的地方，如果你对一千个案子的详情细节都能了如指掌，而对第一千零一件案子竟不 能解释的话，那才是怪事哩。雷斯垂德是一位著名的侦探。最近他在一桩伪造案里坠入五里 雾中，所以他才来找我。”
“还有另外那些人呢？”
“他们多半是由私人侦探指点来的，都是遇到些麻烦问题、需要别人加以指引的。我仔 细听取他们的事实经过，他们则听取我的意见；这样，费用就装进我的口袋里了。”
我说：“你的意思是说，别人虽然亲眼目睹各种细节，但都无法解决，而你足不出户， 却能解释某些疑难问题吗？”
“正是如此。因为我有那么一种利用直觉分析事物的能力。间或也会遇到一件稍微复杂 的案件，那么，我就得奔波一番，亲自出马侦查。你知道，我有许多特殊的知识，把这些知 识应用到案件上去，就能使问题迎刃而解。那篇文章里所提到的几点推断法则虽曾惹起你的 讪笑，但在实际工作中，对我却有着无比的价值。观察能力是我的第二天性。咱们初次会面 时，我就对你说过，你是从阿富汗来的，你当时好象还很惊讶哩。”
“没问题，一定有人告诉过你。”
“没有那回事。我当时一看就知道你是从阿富汗来的。由于长久以来的习惯，一系列的 思索飞也似地掠过我的脑际，因此在我得出结论时，竟未觉察得出结论所经的步骤。但是， 这中间是有着一定的步骤的。在你这件事上，我的推理过程是这样的：‘这一位先生，具有 医务工作者的风度，但却是一副军人气概。那么，显见他是个军医。他是刚从热带回来，因 为他脸色黝黑，但是，从他手腕的皮肤黑白分明看来，这并不是他原来的肤色。他面容憔 悴，这就清楚地说明他是久病初愈而又历尽了艰苦。他左臂受过伤，现在动作品来还有些僵 硬不便。试问，一个英国的军医在热带地方历尽艰苦，并且臂部负过伤，这能在什么地方 呢？自然只有在阿富汗了。'这一连串的思想，历时不到一秒钟，因此我便脱口说出你是从 阿富汗来的，你当时还感到惊破哩。”
我微笑着说：“听你这样一解释，这件事还是相当简单的呢。你使我想起埃德加·爱 伦·坡的作品中的侦探人物杜①班来了。我真想不到除了小说以外，实际上竟会真有这样人 ②物存在。”
福尔摩斯站了起来，点燃他的烟斗。他说：“你一定以为把我和杜班相提并论就是称赞 我了。可是，在我看来，杜班实在是个微不足道的家伙。他先静默一刻钟，然后才突然道破 他的朋友的心事，这种伎俩未免过于做作，过于肤浅了。不错，他有些分析问题的天才，但 决不是爱伦·起想象中的非凡人物。”
我问道：“你读过加波利奥的作品吗？你对勒高克这个人物的评价如何，他可算得上一 个侦探么？”
福尔摩斯轻蔑地哼了一声。他恶声恶平地说道：“勒高克是个不中用的笨蛋。他只有一 件事还值得提一提，就是他的精力。那本书简直使我腻透了。书中的主题只是谈到怎样去辨 识不知名的罪犯。我能在二十四小时之内解决这样的问题。可是勒高克却费了六个月左右的 工夫。有这么长的时间，真可以给侦探们写出一本教科书了，教导教导他们应当避免些什 么。”
我听到他把我所钦佩的两个人物说成这样一文不值，心中感到非常恼怒。我便走到窗 口，望着热闹的街道。我自言自语地说：“这个人也许非常聪明，但是他却太骄傲自负 了。”
①埃德加·爱伦·坡Edgar Allan Poe（—）：美国小说家。著有《莫格街 凶杀案》等侦探小说。——译者注
②杜班Ｄｕｐｉｎ为爱伦·坡所写《莫格街凶杀案》一书中之主角。——译者注
他不满地抱怨着说：“这些天来一直没有罪案发生，也没有发现什么罪犯，干我们这行 的人，头脑真是没用了。我深知我的才能足以使我成名。从古到今，从来没有人象我这样， 在侦查罪行上既有天赋又有这样精湛的研究。可是结果怎样呢？竟没有罪案可以侦查，顶多 也不过是些简单幼稚的罪案，犯罪动机浅显易见，就连苏格兰场的人员也能一眼识破。"①
我对他这种大言不惭的谈话，余怒未息。我想最好还是换个话题。
“我不知道这个人在找什么？"我指着一个体格魁伟、衣着朴素的人说。他正在街那边 慢慢地走着，焦急地寻找着门牌号码。他的手中拿着一个蓝色大信封，分明是个送信的人。
福尔摩斯说：“你是说那个退伍的海军陆战队的军曹吗？”
我心中暗暗想道：“又在吹牛说大话了。他明知我没法证实他的猜测是否正确。”
这个念头还没有从我的脑中消逝，只见我们所观察的那个人看到了我们的门牌号码以 后，就从街对面飞快地跑了过来。只听见一阵急促的敲门声，楼下有人用低沉的声音讲着 话，接着楼梯上便响起了沉重的脚步声。
这个人一走进房来，便把那封信交给了我的朋友。他说：
“这是给福尔摩斯先生的信。”
这正是把福尔摩斯的傲气挫折一下的好机会。他方才信口胡说，决没想到会有目前这一 步。我尽量用温和的声音说道：“小伙子，请问你的职业是什么？”
①苏格兰场 ScotlandYard 为伦敦厅之别名。——译者注
“我是当差的，先生，"那人粗声粗平地回答说，“我的修补去了。”
“你过去是干什么的？"我一面问他，一面略带恶意地瞟了我同伴一眼。
“军曹，先生，我在皇家海军陆战轻步兵队中服务过。先生，没有回信吗？好吧，先 生。”
他碰了一下脚跟，举手敬礼，然后走了出去。
Holmes was certainly not a difficult man to live with. He was quiet in his ways, and his habits were regular. It was rare for him to be up after ten at night, and he had invariably breakfasted and gone out before I rose in the morning. Sometimes he spent his day at the chemical laboratory, sometimes in the dissecting-rooms, and occasionally in long walks, which appeared to take him into the lowest portions of the City. Nothing could exceed his energy when the working fit was upon him; but now and again a reaction would seize him, and for days on end he would lie upon the sofa in the sitting-room, hardly uttering a word or moving a muscle from morning to night. On these occasions I have noticed such a dreamy, vacant expression in his eyes, that I might have suspected him of being addicted to the use of some narcotic, had not the temperance and cleanliness of his whole life forbidden such a notion.
As the weeks went by, my interest in him and my curiosity as to his aims in life, gradually deepened and increased. His very person and appearance were such as to strike the attention of the most casual observer. In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively lean that he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes were sharp and piercing, save during those intervals of torpor to which I have alluded; and his thin, hawk-like nose gave his whole expression an air of alertness and decision. His chin, too, had the prominence and squareness which mark the man of determination. His hands were invariably blotted with ink and stained with chemicals, yet he was possessed of extraordinary delicacy of touch, as I frequently had occasion to observe when I watched him manipulating his fragile philosophical instruments.
The reader may set me down as a hopeless busybody, when I confess how much this man stimulated my curiosity, and how often I endeavoured to break through the reticence which he showed on all that concerned himself. Before pronouncing judgment, however, be it remembered, how objectless was my life, and how little there was to engage my attention. My health forbade me from venturing out unless the weather was exceptionally genial, and I had no friends who would call upon me and break the monotony of my daily existence. Under these circumstances, I eagerly hailed the little mystery which hung around my companion, and spent much of my time in endeavouring to unravel it.
He was not studying medicine. He had himself, in reply to a question, confirmed Stamford's opinion upon that point. Neither did he appear to have pursued any course of reading which might fit him for a degree in science or any other recognized portal which would give him an entrance into the learned world. Yet his zeal for certain studies was remarkable, and within eccentric limits his knowledge was so extraordinarily ample and minute that his observations have fairly astounded me. Surely no man would work so hard or attain such precise information unless he had some definite end in view. Desultory readers are seldom remarkable for the exactness of their learning. No man burdens his mind with small matters unless he has some very good reason for doing so.
His ignorance was as remarkable as his knowledge. Of contemporary literature, philosophy and politics he appeared to know next to nothing. Upon my quoting Thomas Carlyle, he inquired in the naivest way who he might be and what he had done. My surprise reached a climax, however, when I found incidentally that he was ignorant of the Copernican Theory and of the composition of the Solar System. That any civilized human being in this nineteenth century should not be aware that the earth travelled round the sun appeared to be to me such an extraordinary fact that I could hardly realize it.
"You appear to be astonished," he said, smiling at my expression of surprise. "Now that I do know it I shall do my best to forget it."
"To forget it!"
"You see," he explained, "I consider that a man's brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes across, so that the knowledge which might be useful to him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with a lot of other things so that he has a difficulty in laying his hands upon it. Now the skilful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order. It is a mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to any extent. Depend upon it there comes a time when for every addition of knowledge you forget something that you knew before. It is of the highest importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing out the useful ones."
"But the Solar System!" I protested.
"What the deuce is it to me?" he interrupted impatiently; "you say that we go round the sun. If we went round the moon it would not make a pennyworth of difference to me or to my work."
I was on the point of asking him what that work might be, but something in his manner showed me that the question would be an unwelcome one. I pondered over our short conversation, however, and endeavoured to draw my deductions from it. He said that he would acquire no knowledge which did not bear upon his object. Therefore all the knowledge which he possessed was such as would be useful to him. I enumerated in my own mind all the various points upon which he had shown me that he was exceptionally well-informed. I even took a pencil and jotted them down. I could not help smiling at the document when I had completed it. It ran in this way --
SHERLOCK HOLMES -- his limits.
1. Knowledge of Literature. -- Nil. 2. Philosophy. -- Nil. 3. Astronomy. -- Nil. 4. Politics. -- Feeble. 5. Botany. -- Variable. Well up in belladonna, opium, and poisons generally. Knows nothing of practical gardening. 6. Geology. -- Practical, but limited. Tells at a glance different soils from each other. After walks has shown me splashes upon his trousers, and told me by their colour and consistence in what part of London he had received them. 7. Chemistry. -- Profound. 8. Anatomy. -- Accurate, but unsystematic. 9. Sensational Literature. -- Immense. He appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the century. 10. Plays the violin well. 11. Is an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman. 12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.
When I had got so far in my list I threw it into the fire in despair. "If I can only find what the fellow is driving at by reconciling all these accomplishments, and discovering a calling which needs them all," I said to myself, "I may as well give up the attempt at once."
I see that I have alluded above to his powers upon the violin. These were very remarkable, but as eccentric as all his other accomplishments. That he could play pieces, and difficult pieces, I knew well, because at my request he has played me some of Mendelssohn's Lieder, and other favourites. When left to himself, however, he would seldom produce any music or attempt any recognized air. Leaning back in his arm-chair of an evening, he would close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle which was thrown across his knee. Sometimes the chords were sonorous and melancholy. Occasionally they were fantastic and cheerful. Clearly they reflected the thoughts which possessed him, but whether the music aided those thoughts, or whether the playing was simply the result of a whim or fancy was more than I could determine. I might have rebelled against these exasperating solos had it not been that he usually terminated them by playing in quick succession a whole series of my favourite airs as a slight compensation for the trial upon my patience.
During the first week or so we had no callers, and I had begun to think that my companion was as friendless a man as I was myself. Presently, however, I found that he had many acquaintances, and those in the most different classes of society. There was one little sallow rat-faced, dark-eyed fellow who was introduced to me as Mr. Lestrade, and who came three or four times in a single week. One morning a young girl called, fashionably dressed, and stayed for half an hour or more. The same afternoon brought a grey-headed, seedy visitor, looking like a Jew pedlar, who appeared to me to be much excited, and who was closely followed by a slip-shod elderly woman. On another occasion an old white-haired gentleman had an interview with my companion; and on another a railway porter in his velveteen uniform. When any of these nondescript individuals put in an appearance, Sherlock Holmes used to beg for the use of the sitting-room, and I would retire to my bed-room. He always apologized to me for putting me to this inconvenience. "I have to use this room as a place of business," he said, "and these people are my clients." Again I had an opportunity of asking him a point blank question, and again my delicacy prevented me from forcing another man to confide in me. I imagined at the time that he had some strong reason for not alluding to it, but he soon dispelled the idea by coming round to the subject of his own accord.
It was upon the 4th of March, as I have good reason to remember, that I rose somewhat earlier than usual, and found that Sherlock Holmes had not yet finished his breakfast. The landlady had become so accustomed to my late habits that my place had not been laid nor my coffee prepared. With the unreasonable petulance of mankind I rang the bell and gave a curt intimation that I was ready. Then I picked up a magazine from the table and attempted to while away the time with it, while my companion munched silently at his toast. One of the articles had a pencil mark at the heading, and I naturally began to run my eye through it.
Its somewhat ambitious title was "The Book of Life," and it attempted to show how much an observant man might learn by an accurate and systematic examination of all that came in his way. It struck me as being a remarkable mixture of shrewdness and of absurdity. The reasoning was close and intense, but the deductions appeared to me to be far-fetched and exaggerated. The writer claimed by a momentary expression, a twitch of a muscle or a glance of an eye, to fathom a man's inmost thoughts. Deceit, according to him, was an impossibility in the case of one trained to observation and analysis. His conclusions were as infallible as so many propositions of Euclid. So startling would his results appear to the uninitiated that until they learned the processes by which he had arrived at them they might well consider him as a necromancer.
"From a drop of water," said the writer, "a logician could infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara without having seen or heard of one or the other. So all life is a great chain, the nature of which is known whenever we are shown a single link of it. Like all other arts, the Science of Deduction and Analysis is one which can only be acquired by long and patient study nor is life long enough to allow any mortal to attain the highest possible perfection in it. Before turning to those moral and mental aspects of the matter which present the greatest difficulties, let the enquirer begin by mastering more elementary problems. Let him, on meeting a fellow-mortal, learn at a glance to distinguish the history of the man, and the trade or profession to which he belongs. Puerile as such an exercise may seem, it sharpens the faculties of observation, and teaches one where to look and what to look for. By a man's finger nails, by his coat-sleeve, by his boot, by his trouser knees, by the callosities of his forefinger and thumb, by his expression, by his shirt cuffs -- by each of these things a man's calling is plainly revealed. That all united should fail to enlighten the competent enquirer in any case is almost inconceivable."
"What ineffable twaddle!" I cried, slapping the magazine down on the table, "I never read such rubbish in my life."
"What is it?" asked Sherlock Holmes.
"Why, this article," I said, pointing at it with my egg spoon as I sat down to my breakfast. "I see that you have read it since you have marked it. I don't deny that it is smartly written. It irritates me though. It is evidently the theory of some arm-chair lounger who evolves all these neat little paradoxes in the seclusion of his own study. It is not practical. I should like to see him clapped down in a third class carriage on the Underground, and asked to give the trades of all his fellow-travellers. I would lay a thousand to one against him."
"You would lose your money," Sherlock Holmes remarked calmly. "As for the article I wrote it myself."
"You!"
"Yes, I have a turn both for observation and for deduction. The theories which I have expressed there, and which appear to you to be so chimerical are really extremely practical -- so practical that I depend upon them for my bread and cheese."
"And how?" I asked involuntarily.
"Well, I have a trade of my own. I suppose I am the only one in the world. I'm a consulting detective, if you can understand what that is. Here in London we have lots of Government detectives and lots of private ones. When these fellows are at fault they come to me, and I manage to put them on the right scent. They lay all the evidence before me, and I am generally able, by the help of my knowledge of the history of crime, to set them straight. There is a strong family resemblance about misdeeds, and if you have all the details of a thousand at your finger ends, it is odd if you can't unravel the thousand and first. Lestrade is a well-known detective. He got himself into a fog recently over a forgery case, and that was what brought him here."
"And these other people?"
"They are mostly sent on by private inquiry agencies. They are all people who are in trouble about something, and want a little enlightening. I listen to their story, they listen to my comments, and then I pocket my fee."
"But do you mean to say," I said, "that without leaving your room you can unravel some knot which other men can make nothing of, although they have seen every detail for themselves?"
"Quite so. I have a kind of intuition that way. Now and again a case turns up which is a little more complex. Then I have to bustle about and see things with my own eyes. You see I have a lot of special knowledge which I apply to the problem, and which facilitates matters wonderfully. Those rules of deduction laid down in that article which aroused your scorn, are invaluable to me in practical work. Observation with me is second nature. You appeared to be surprised when I told you, on our first meeting, that you had come from Afghanistan."
"You were told, no doubt."
"Nothing of the sort. I _knew_ you came from Afghanistan. From long habit the train of thoughts ran so swiftly through my mind, that I arrived at the conclusion without being conscious of intermediate steps. There were such steps, however. The train of reasoning ran, `Here is a gentleman of a medical type, but with the air of a military man. Clearly an army doctor, then. He has just come from the tropics, for his face is dark, and that is not the natural tint of his skin, for his wrists are fair. He has undergone hardship and sickness, as his haggard face says clearly. His left arm has been injured. He holds it in a stiff and unnatural manner. Where in the tropics could an English army doctor have seen much hardship and got his arm wounded? Clearly in Afghanistan.' The whole train of thought did not occupy a second. I then remarked that you came from Afghanistan, and you were astonished."
"It is simple enough as you explain it," I said, smiling. "You remind me of Edgar Allen Poe's Dupin. I had no idea that such individuals did exist outside of stories."
Sherlock Holmes rose and lit his pipe. "No doubt you think that you are complimenting me in comparing me to Dupin," he observed. "Now, in my opinion, Dupin was a very inferior fellow. That trick of his of breaking in on his friends' thoughts with an apropos remark after a quarter of an hour's silence is really very showy and superficial. He had some analytical genius, no doubt; but he was by no means such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine."
"Have you read Gaboriau's works?" I asked. "Does Lecoq come up to your idea of a detective?"
Sherlock Holmes sniffed sardonically. "Lecoq was a miserable bungler," he said, in an angry voice; "he had only one thing to recommend him, and that was his energy. That book made me positively ill. The question was how to identify an unknown prisoner. I could have done it in twenty-four hours. Lecoq took six months or so. It might be made a text-book for detectives to teach them what to avoid."
I felt rather indignant at having two characters whom I had admired treated in this cavalier style. I walked over to the window, and stood looking out into the busy street. "This fellow may be very clever," I said to myself, "but he is certainly very conceited."
"There are no crimes and no criminals in these days," he said, querulously. "What is the use of having brains in our profession. I know well that I have it in me to make my name famous. No man lives or has ever lived who has brought the same amount of study and of natural talent to the detection of crime which I have done. And what is the result? There is no crime to detect, or, at most, some bungling villany with a motive so transparent that even a Scotland Yard official can see through it."
I was still annoyed at his bumptious style of conversation. I thought it best to change the topic.
"I wonder what that fellow is looking for?" I asked, pointing to a stalwart, plainly-dressed individual who was walking slowly down the other side of the street, looking anxiously at the numbers. He had a large blue envelope in his hand, and was evidently the bearer of a message.
"You mean the retired sergeant of Marines," said Sherlock Holmes.
"Brag and bounce!" thought I to myself. "He knows that I cannot verify his guess."
The thought had hardly passed through my mind when the man whom we were watching caught sight of the number on our door, and ran rapidly across the roadway. We heard a loud knock, a deep voice below, and heavy steps ascending the stair.
"For Mr. Sherlock Holmes," he said, stepping into the room and handing my friend the letter.
Here was an opportunity of taking the conceit out of him. He little thought of this when he made that random shot. "May I ask, my lad," I said, in the blandest voice, "what your trade may be?"
"Commissionaire, sir," he said, gruffly. "Uniform away for repairs."
"And you were?" I asked, with a slightly malicious glance at my companion.
"A sergeant, sir, Royal Marine Light Infantry, sir. No answer? Right, sir."
He clicked his heels together, raised his hand in a salute, and was gone.
说实在的，福尔摩斯并不是一个难与相处的人。他为人沉静，生活习惯很有规律。每晚 很少在十点以后还不睡觉。早晨，他总是在我起床之前就吃完早饭出去了。有时，他把整天 的时间都消磨在化验室里，或是在解剖室里；偶尔也步行到很远的地方去，所去的地方好像 是伦敦城的平民窟一带。在他高兴工作的时候，绝没有人能比得上他那份旺盛的精力；可是 常常也会上来一股相反的劲头，整天地躺在起居室的沙发上，从早到晚，几乎一言不发，一 动不动。每逢这样的时候，我总看到他的眼里有着那么一种茫然若失的神色。若不是他平日 生活严谨而有节制，我真要疑心他有服麻醉剂的瘾癖了。
几个星期过去了，我对于他这个人的兴趣以及对于他的生活目的何在的好破心也日益加 深。他的相貌和外表，乍见之下就足以引人注意。他有六英尺多高，身体异常瘦削，因此显 得格外颀长；目光锐利（他茫然若失的时候除外）；细长的鹰钩鼻子使他的相貌显得格外机 警、果断；下颚方正而突出，说明他是个非常有毅力的人。他的两手虽然斑斑点点沾满了墨 水和化学药品，但是动作却异乎寻常地熟练、仔细。因为他摆弄那些精致易碎的化验仪平 时，我常常在一旁观察着他。
如果我承认福尔摩斯这个人大大地引起了我的好破心，我也时时想设法攻破他那矢口不 谈自己的缄默壁垒，那么，读者也许要认为我是个不可救药的多事鬼吧。但是，在您下这样 的结论以前，请不妨想一想：我的生活是多么空虚无聊；在这样的生活中，能够吸引我注意 力的事物又是多么疲乏。除非是天气特别晴和，我的健康情况又不允许我到外面去；同时， 我又没有什么好友来访，足以打破我单调的日常生活。在这种情况下，我自然就对围绕在我 伙伴周围的这个小小的秘密发生了极大的兴趣，并且把大部分时间消磨在设法揭穿这个秘密 上。
他并不是在研究医学。在回答我的一个问题的时候，他自己证实了斯坦弗在这一点上的 说法是正确的。他既不象是为了获得科学学位而在研究任何学科，也不象是在采取其他任何 一般的途径，使他能够进入学术界。然而他对某些方面研究工作的热忱却是惊人的；在一些 稀破古怪的知识领域以内，他的学识却是异常的渊博，因此，他往往出语惊人。肯定地说， 如果不是为了某种一定的目的，一个人决不会这样辛勤地工作，以求获得这样确切的知识 的。因为漫无目标、无书不读的人，他们的知识很难是非常精湛的。除非是为了某种充分的 理由，否则绝不会有人愿意在许多细微末节上这样花费精力。
他的知识疲乏的一面，正如他的知识丰富的一面同样地惊人。关于现代文学、哲学和政 治方面，他几乎一无所知。当我引用托马斯·卡莱耳的文章的时候，他傻里傻平地问我①卡 莱耳究竟是什么人，他干过些什么事情。最使我惊讶不止的是：我无意中发现他竟然对于哥 白尼学说以及太阳系的构成，也全然不解。当此十九世纪，一个有知识的人居然不知道地球 绕着太阳运行的道理，这件怪事简直令我难以理解。
他看到我吃惊的样子，不觉微笑着说：“你似乎感到吃惊吧。即使我懂得这些，我也要 尽力把它忘掉。”
“把它忘掉！”
他解释道：“你要知道，我认为人的脑子本来象一间空空的小阁楼，应该有选择地把一 些家具装进去。只有傻瓜才会把他碰到的各种各样的破烂杂碎一古脑儿装进去。这样一来， 那些对他有用的知识反而被挤了出来；或者，最多不过是和许多其他的东西掺杂在一起。因 此，在取用的时候也就感到困难了。所以一个会工作的人，在他选择要把一些东西装进他的 那间小阁楼似的头脑中去的时候，他确实是非常仔细小心的。除了工作中有用的工具以外， 他什么也不带进去，而这些工具又样样具备，有条有理。如果认为这间小阁楼的墙壁富有弹 性，可以任意伸缩，那就错了。请相信我的话，总有一天，当你增加新知识的时候，你就会 把以前所熟习的东西忘了。所以最要紧的是，不要让一些无用的知识把有用的挤出去。”
①ＴｈｏｍａｓＣａｒｌｙｌｅ（—）：英国散文家，历史学家和哲学家，著有《英雄 与英雄崇拜》等书。——译者注
我分辩说：“可是，那是太阳系的问题啊！”
他不耐烦地打断我的话说：“这与我又有什么相干？你说咱们是绕着太阳走的，可是， 即使咱们绕着月亮走，这对于我或者对于我的工作又有什么关系呢？”
我几乎就要问他，他的工作究竟是什么的时候，我从他的态度中看出来，这个问题也许 会引其他的不高兴。于是我便把我们的短短谈话考虑了一番，尽力想从这里边得出一些可资 推论的线索来。他说他不愿去追求那些与他所研究的东西无关的知识，因此他所具有的一切 知识，当然都是对他有用的了。我就在心中把他所了解得特别深的学科一一列举出来，而且 用铅笔把它写了出来。写完了一看，我忍不住笑了。原来是这样：
歇洛克·福尔摩斯的学识范围：
１．文学知识——无。 ２．哲学知识——无。 ３．天文学知识——无。 ４．学知识——浅薄。
５．植物学知识——不全面，但对于莨蓿制剂和鸦片 却知之甚详。对毒剂有一般的了解，而对于实用 园艺学却一无所知。
６．地质学知识——偏于实用，但也有限。但他一眼就 能分辨出不同的土质。他在散步回来后，曾把溅在 他的裤子上的泥点给我看，并且能根据泥点的颜 色和坚实程度说明是在伦敦什么地方溅上的。
７．化学知识——精深。 ８．解剖学知识——准确，但无系统。
９．惊险文学——很广博，他似乎对近一世纪中发生 的一切恐怖事件都深知底细。
１０．提琴拉得很好。 １１．善使棍棒，也精于刀剑拳术。 １２．关于英国法律方面，他具有充分实用的知识。
我写了这些条，很觉失望。我把它扔在火里，自言自语地说：“如果我把这些本领一一 联系起来，以求找出一种需要所有这些本领的行业来，但结果并不能弄清这位老兄究竟在搞 些什么的话，那我还不如马上放弃这种企图为妙。”
我记得在前面曾提到过他拉提琴的本事。他提琴拉得很出色，但也象他的其他本领一 样，有些古怪出破之处。我深知他能拉出一些曲子，而且还是一些很难拉的曲子。因为在我 的请求之下，他曾经为我拉过几支门德尔松的短歌和一些他所喜爱的曲子。可是当他独自一 人的时候，他就难得会拉出什么象样的乐曲或是大家所熟悉的调子了。黄昏时，他靠在扶手 椅上，闭上眼睛，信手弹弄着平放在膝上的提琴。有时琴声高亢而忧郁，有时又古怪而欢 畅。显然，这些琴声反映了当时支配着他的某种思潮，不过这些曲调是否助长了他的这种思 潮，或者仅仅是一时兴之所至，我就无法断言了。对于他的那些刺耳的独奏，我感到十分不 耐烦；如果不是他常常在这些曲子之后，接连拉上几支我喜爱的曲子，作为对我耐心的小小 补偿，我真要暴跳起来。
在头一两个星期中，没有人来拜访我们。我曾以为我的伙伴也象我一样，孤零零的没有 朋友。可是，不久我就发现他有许多相识，而且是来自社会上各个迥然不同的阶层的。其中 有一个人面色发黄，獐头鼠目，生着一双黑色的眼睛。经福尔摩斯介绍，我知道他叫雷斯垂 德先生。这个人每星期要来三四次。一天早上，有一个时髦的年轻姑娘来了，坐了半个多钟 头才走。当天下午，又来了一个头发灰白、衣衫褴褛的客人，模样儿很象个犹太小贩，他的 神情似乎非常紧张，身后还紧跟着一个邋邋遢遢的老妇人。还有一次，一个白发绅士拜访了 我的伙伴；另外一回，一个穿着棉绒的火车上的茶房来找他。每当这些破特的客人出现 的时候，歇洛克·福尔摩斯总是请求让他使用品居室，我也只好回到我的卧室里去。他因为 给我带来这样的不便，常常向我道歉。他说：“我不得不利用这间起居室作为办公的地方， 这些人都是我的顾客。"这一次，我又找到了一个单刀直入向他提出问题的好机会，但是， 为了谨慎起见，我又没有勉强他对我吐露真情。我当时想，他不谈出他的职业，一定有某种 重大理由。但是，他不久就主动地谈到了这个问题，打破了我原来的想法。
我记得很清楚，那是三月四日，我比平时期得早了一些；我发现福尔摩斯还没有吃完早 餐。房东太太一向知道我有晚起的习惯，因此餐桌上没有安排我的座位，我的一份咖啡也没 有预备好。我一时没有道理地发起火来，立刻按铃，简捷地告诉房东太太，我已准备早餐。 于是我从桌上拿起一本杂志翻翻，借此消磨等待的时间，而我的同伴却一声不响地只管嚼着 他的面包。杂志上有一起文章，标题下面有人画了铅笔道，我自然而然地就先看了这一起。
文章的标题似乎有些夸大，叫做什么"生活宝鉴"。这篇文章企图说明：一个善于观察的 人，如果对他所接触的事物加以精确而系统地观察，他将有多么大的收获。我觉得这篇文章 很突出，虽有其精明独到之处，但也未免荒唐可笑；在论理上，它严密而紧凑；但是在论断 上，据我看来，却未免牵强附会，夸大其辞。作者声称，从一个人瞬息之间的表情，肌肉的 每一牵动以及眼睛的每一转动，都可以推测出他内心深处的想法来。根据作者的说法，对于 一个在观察和分析上素有锻炼的人来说，
“欺骗"是不可能的事。他所作出的结论真和欧几里得的定理一样的准确。而这些结 论，在一些门外汉看来，确实惊人，在他们弄明白他所以得到这样结论的各个步骤以前，他 们真会把他当作一个未卜先知的神人。
作者说：“一个逻辑学家不需亲眼见到或者听说过大西洋或尼加拉契布，他能从一滴水 上推测出它有可能存在，所以整个生活就是一条巨大的链条，只要见到其中的一环，整个链 条的情况就可推想出来了。推断和分析的科学也象其他技艺一样，只有经过长期和耐心的钻 研才能掌握；人们虽然尽其毕生精力，也未必能够达到登峰造极的地步。初学的人，在着手 研究极其困难的有关事物的精神和心理方面的问题以前，不妨先从掌握较浅显的问题入手。 比如遇到了一个人，一起之间就要辨识出这人的历史和职业。这样的锻炼，看起来好象幼稚 无聊，但是，它却能够使一个人的观察能力变得敏锐起来，并且教导人们：应该从哪里观 察，应该观察些什么。一个人的手指甲、衣袖、靴子和裤子的膝盖部分，大拇指与食指之间 的茧子、表情、衬衣袖口等等，不论从以上所说的哪一点，都能明白地显露出他的职业来。 如果把这些情形联系起来，还不能使案件的调查人恍然领悟，那几乎是难以想象的事了。”
我读到这里，不禁把杂志往桌上一丢，大声说道：“真是废话连篇！我一辈子也没有见 过这样无聊的文章。”
“哪篇文章？"福尔摩斯问道。
“唔，就是这篇文章。"我一面坐下来吃早餐，一面用小匙子指着那篇文章说，“我想 你已经读过了，因为你在下边还画有铅笔道。我并不否认这篇文章写得很漂亮，但是我读了 之后，还是不免要生气。显然，这是哪一位饱食终日、无所事事的懒汉，坐在他的书房里闭 门造车地空想出来的一套似是而非的妙论。一点也不切合实际。我倒愿意试一试把他关进地 下火车的三等车厢里，叫他把同车人的职业一个个都说出来。我愿跟他打个赌，一千对一的 赌注都行。”
“那你就输了，"福尔摩斯安详地说，“那篇是我写的。”
“是你！”
“对啦，我在观察和推理两方面都具有特殊的才能。我在这篇文章里所提出的那些理 论，在你看来真是荒谬绝伦，其实它却非常实际，实际到这样程度，甚至我就是靠着它挣得 我这份干酪和面包的。”
“你怎样靠它生活呢？"我不禁问道。
“啊，我有我自己的职业。我想全世界上干这行职业的人恐怕只有我一个。我是一个' 咨询侦探'，也许你能够理解这是一个什么行业吧。在这伦敦城中，有许多官方侦探和私人 侦探。这些人遇到困难的时候就来找我，我就设法把他们引入正轨。他们把所有的证据提供 给我，一般说来我都能起着我对犯罪史的知识，把他们的错误纠正过来。犯罪行为都有它非 常类似的地方，如果你对一千个案子的详情细节都能了如指掌，而对第一千零一件案子竟不 能解释的话，那才是怪事哩。雷斯垂德是一位著名的侦探。最近他在一桩伪造案里坠入五里 雾中，所以他才来找我。”
“还有另外那些人呢？”
“他们多半是由私人侦探指点来的，都是遇到些麻烦问题、需要别人加以指引的。我仔 细听取他们的事实经过，他们则听取我的意见；这样，费用就装进我的口袋里了。”
我说：“你的意思是说，别人虽然亲眼目睹各种细节，但都无法解决，而你足不出户， 却能解释某些疑难问题吗？”
“正是如此。因为我有那么一种利用直觉分析事物的能力。间或也会遇到一件稍微复杂 的案件，那么，我就得奔波一番，亲自出马侦查。你知道，我有许多特殊的知识，把这些知 识应用到案件上去，就能使问题迎刃而解。那篇文章里所提到的几点推断法则虽曾惹起你的 讪笑，但在实际工作中，对我却有着无比的价值。观察能力是我的第二天性。咱们初次会面 时，我就对你说过，你是从阿富汗来的，你当时好象还很惊讶哩。”
“没问题，一定有人告诉过你。”
“没有那回事。我当时一看就知道你是从阿富汗来的。由于长久以来的习惯，一系列的 思索飞也似地掠过我的脑际，因此在我得出结论时，竟未觉察得出结论所经的步骤。但是， 这中间是有着一定的步骤的。在你这件事上，我的推理过程是这样的：‘这一位先生，具有 医务工作者的风度，但却是一副军人气概。那么，显见他是个军医。他是刚从热带回来，因 为他脸色黝黑，但是，从他手腕的皮肤黑白分明看来，这并不是他原来的肤色。他面容憔 悴，这就清楚地说明他是久病初愈而又历尽了艰苦。他左臂受过伤，现在动作品来还有些僵 硬不便。试问，一个英国的军医在热带地方历尽艰苦，并且臂部负过伤，这能在什么地方 呢？自然只有在阿富汗了。'这一连串的思想，历时不到一秒钟，因此我便脱口说出你是从 阿富汗来的，你当时还感到惊破哩。”
我微笑着说：“听你这样一解释，这件事还是相当简单的呢。你使我想起埃德加·爱 伦·坡的作品中的侦探人物杜①班来了。我真想不到除了小说以外，实际上竟会真有这样人 ②物存在。”
福尔摩斯站了起来，点燃他的烟斗。他说：“你一定以为把我和杜班相提并论就是称赞 我了。可是，在我看来，杜班实在是个微不足道的家伙。他先静默一刻钟，然后才突然道破 他的朋友的心事，这种伎俩未免过于做作，过于肤浅了。不错，他有些分析问题的天才，但 决不是爱伦·起想象中的非凡人物。”
我问道：“你读过加波利奥的作品吗？你对勒高克这个人物的评价如何，他可算得上一 个侦探么？”
福尔摩斯轻蔑地哼了一声。他恶声恶平地说道：“勒高克是个不中用的笨蛋。他只有一 件事还值得提一提，就是他的精力。那本书简直使我腻透了。书中的主题只是谈到怎样去辨 识不知名的罪犯。我能在二十四小时之内解决这样的问题。可是勒高克却费了六个月左右的 工夫。有这么长的时间，真可以给侦探们写出一本教科书了，教导教导他们应当避免些什 么。”
我听到他把我所钦佩的两个人物说成这样一文不值，心中感到非常恼怒。我便走到窗 口，望着热闹的街道。我自言自语地说：“这个人也许非常聪明，但是他却太骄傲自负 了。”
①埃德加·爱伦·坡Edgar Allan Poe（—）：美国小说家。著有《莫格街 凶杀案》等侦探小说。——译者注
②杜班Ｄｕｐｉｎ为爱伦·坡所写《莫格街凶杀案》一书中之主角。——译者注
他不满地抱怨着说：“这些天来一直没有罪案发生，也没有发现什么罪犯，干我们这行 的人，头脑真是没用了。我深知我的才能足以使我成名。从古到今，从来没有人象我这样， 在侦查罪行上既有天赋又有这样精湛的研究。可是结果怎样呢？竟没有罪案可以侦查，顶多 也不过是些简单幼稚的罪案，犯罪动机浅显易见，就连苏格兰场的人员也能一眼识破。"①
我对他这种大言不惭的谈话，余怒未息。我想最好还是换个话题。
“我不知道这个人在找什么？"我指着一个体格魁伟、衣着朴素的人说。他正在街那边 慢慢地走着，焦急地寻找着门牌号码。他的手中拿着一个蓝色大信封，分明是个送信的人。
福尔摩斯说：“你是说那个退伍的海军陆战队的军曹吗？”
我心中暗暗想道：“又在吹牛说大话了。他明知我没法证实他的猜测是否正确。”
这个念头还没有从我的脑中消逝，只见我们所观察的那个人看到了我们的门牌号码以 后，就从街对面飞快地跑了过来。只听见一阵急促的敲门声，楼下有人用低沉的声音讲着 话，接着楼梯上便响起了沉重的脚步声。
这个人一走进房来，便把那封信交给了我的朋友。他说：
“这是给福尔摩斯先生的信。”
这正是把福尔摩斯的傲气挫折一下的好机会。他方才信口胡说，决没想到会有目前这一 步。我尽量用温和的声音说道：“小伙子，请问你的职业是什么？”
①苏格兰场 ScotlandYard 为伦敦厅之别名。——译者注
“我是当差的，先生，"那人粗声粗平地回答说，“我的修补去了。”
“你过去是干什么的？"我一面问他，一面略带恶意地瞟了我同伴一眼。
“军曹，先生，我在皇家海军陆战轻步兵队中服务过。先生，没有回信吗？好吧，先 生。”
他碰了一下脚跟，举手敬礼，然后走了出去。
Holmes was certainly not a difficult man to live with. He was quiet in his ways, and his habits were regular. It was rare for him to be up after ten at night, and he had invariably breakfasted and gone out before I rose in the morning. Sometimes he spent his day at the chemical laboratory, sometimes in the dissecting-rooms, and occasionally in long walks, which appeared to take him into the lowest portions of the City. Nothing could exceed his energy when the working fit was upon him; but now and again a reaction would seize him, and for days on end he would lie upon the sofa in the sitting-room, hardly uttering a word or moving a muscle from morning to night. On these occasions I have noticed such a dreamy, vacant expression in his eyes, that I might have suspected him of being addicted to the use of some narcotic, had not the temperance and cleanliness of his whole life forbidden such a notion.
As the weeks went by, my interest in him and my curiosity as to his aims in life, gradually deepened and increased. His very person and appearance were such as to strike the attention of the most casual observer. In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively lean that he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes were sharp and piercing, save during those intervals of torpor to which I have alluded; and his thin, hawk-like nose gave his whole expression an air of alertness and decision. His chin, too, had the prominence and squareness which mark the man of determination. His hands were invariably blotted with ink and stained with chemicals, yet he was possessed of extraordinary delicacy of touch, as I frequently had occasion to observe when I watched him manipulating his fragile philosophical instruments.
The reader may set me down as a hopeless busybody, when I confess how much this man stimulated my curiosity, and how often I endeavoured to break through the reticence which he showed on all that concerned himself. Before pronouncing judgment, however, be it remembered, how objectless was my life, and how little there was to engage my attention. My health forbade me from venturing out unless the weather was exceptionally genial, and I had no friends who would call upon me and break the monotony of my daily existence. Under these circumstances, I eagerly hailed the little mystery which hung around my companion, and spent much of my time in endeavouring to unravel it.
He was not studying medicine. He had himself, in reply to a question, confirmed Stamford's opinion upon that point. Neither did he appear to have pursued any course of reading which might fit him for a degree in science or any other recognized portal which would give him an entrance into the learned world. Yet his zeal for certain studies was remarkable, and within eccentric limits his knowledge was so extraordinarily ample and minute that his observations have fairly astounded me. Surely no man would work so hard or attain such precise information unless he had some definite end in view. Desultory readers are seldom remarkable for the exactness of their learning. No man burdens his mind with small matters unless he has some very good reason for doing so.
His ignorance was as remarkable as his knowledge. Of contemporary literature, philosophy and politics he appeared to know next to nothing. Upon my quoting Thomas Carlyle, he inquired in the naivest way who he might be and what he had done. My surprise reached a climax, however, when I found incidentally that he was ignorant of the Copernican Theory and of the composition of the Solar System. That any civilized human being in this nineteenth century should not be aware that the earth travelled round the sun appeared to be to me such an extraordinary fact that I could hardly realize it.
"You appear to be astonished," he said, smiling at my expression of surprise. "Now that I do know it I shall do my best to forget it."
"To forget it!"
"You see," he explained, "I consider that a man's brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes across, so that the knowledge which might be useful to him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with a lot of other things so that he has a difficulty in laying his hands upon it. Now the skilful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order. It is a mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to any extent. Depend upon it there comes a time when for every addition of knowledge you forget something that you knew before. It is of the highest importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing out the useful ones."
"But the Solar System!" I protested.
"What the deuce is it to me?" he interrupted impatiently; "you say that we go round the sun. If we went round the moon it would not make a pennyworth of difference to me or to my work."
I was on the point of asking him what that work might be, but something in his manner showed me that the question would be an unwelcome one. I pondered over our short conversation, however, and endeavoured to draw my deductions from it. He said that he would acquire no knowledge which did not bear upon his object. Therefore all the knowledge which he possessed was such as would be useful to him. I enumerated in my own mind all the various points upon which he had shown me that he was exceptionally well-informed. I even took a pencil and jotted them down. I could not help smiling at the document when I had completed it. It ran in this way --
SHERLOCK HOLMES -- his limits.
1. Knowledge of Literature. -- Nil. 2. Philosophy. -- Nil. 3. Astronomy. -- Nil. 4. Politics. -- Feeble. 5. Botany. -- Variable. Well up in belladonna, opium, and poisons generally. Knows nothing of practical gardening. 6. Geology. -- Practical, but limited. Tells at a glance different soils from each other. After walks has shown me splashes upon his trousers, and told me by their colour and consistence in what part of London he had received them. 7. Chemistry. -- Profound. 8. Anatomy. -- Accurate, but unsystematic. 9. Sensational Literature. -- Immense. He appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the century. 10. Plays the violin well. 11. Is an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman. 12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.
When I had got so far in my list I threw it into the fire in despair. "If I can only find what the fellow is driving at by reconciling all these accomplishments, and discovering a calling which needs them all," I said to myself, "I may as well give up the attempt at once."
I see that I have alluded above to his powers upon the violin. These were very remarkable, but as eccentric as all his other accomplishments. That he could play pieces, and difficult pieces, I knew well, because at my request he has played me some of Mendelssohn's Lieder, and other favourites. When left to himself, however, he would seldom produce any music or attempt any recognized air. Leaning back in his arm-chair of an evening, he would close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle which was thrown across his knee. Sometimes the chords were sonorous and melancholy. Occasionally they were fantastic and cheerful. Clearly they reflected the thoughts which possessed him, but whether the music aided those thoughts, or whether the playing was simply the result of a whim or fancy was more than I could determine. I might have rebelled against these exasperating solos had it not been that he usually terminated them by playing in quick succession a whole series of my favourite airs as a slight compensation for the trial upon my patience.
During the first week or so we had no callers, and I had begun to think that my companion was as friendless a man as I was myself. Presently, however, I found that he had many acquaintances, and those in the most different classes of society. There was one little sallow rat-faced, dark-eyed fellow who was introduced to me as Mr. Lestrade, and who came three or four times in a single week. One morning a young girl called, fashionably dressed, and stayed for half an hour or more. The same afternoon brought a grey-headed, seedy visitor, looking like a Jew pedlar, who appeared to me to be much excited, and who was closely followed by a slip-shod elderly woman. On another occasion an old white-haired gentleman had an interview with my companion; and on another a railway porter in his velveteen uniform. When any of these nondescript individuals put in an appearance, Sherlock Holmes used to beg for the use of the sitting-room, and I would retire to my bed-room. He always apologized to me for putting me to this inconvenience. "I have to use this room as a place of business," he said, "and these people are my clients." Again I had an opportunity of asking him a point blank question, and again my delicacy prevented me from forcing another man to confide in me. I imagined at the time that he had some strong reason for not alluding to it, but he soon dispelled the idea by coming round to the subject of his own accord.
It was upon the 4th of March, as I have good reason to remember, that I rose somewhat earlier than usual, and found that Sherlock Holmes had not yet finished his breakfast. The landlady had become so accustomed to my late habits that my place had not been laid nor my coffee prepared. With the unreasonable petulance of mankind I rang the bell and gave a curt intimation that I was ready. Then I picked up a magazine from the table and attempted to while away the time with it, while my companion munched silently at his toast. One of the articles had a pencil mark at the heading, and I naturally began to run my eye through it.
Its somewhat ambitious title was "The Book of Life," and it attempted to show how much an observant man might learn by an accurate and systematic examination of all that came in his way. It struck me as being a remarkable mixture of shrewdness and of absurdity. The reasoning was close and intense, but the deductions appeared to me to be far-fetched and exaggerated. The writer claimed by a momentary expression, a twitch of a muscle or a glance of an eye, to fathom a man's inmost thoughts. Deceit, according to him, was an impossibility in the case of one trained to observation and analysis. His conclusions were as infallible as so many propositions of Euclid. So startling would his results appear to the uninitiated that until they learned the processes by which he had arrived at them they might well consider him as a necromancer.
"From a drop of water," said the writer, "a logician could infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara without having seen or heard of one or the other. So all life is a great chain, the nature of which is known whenever we are shown a single link of it. Like all other arts, the Science of Deduction and Analysis is one which can only be acquired by long and patient study nor is life long enough to allow any mortal to attain the highest possible perfection in it. Before turning to those moral and mental aspects of the matter which present the greatest difficulties, let the enquirer begin by mastering more elementary problems. Let him, on meeting a fellow-mortal, learn at a glance to distinguish the history of the man, and the trade or profession to which he belongs. Puerile as such an exercise may seem, it sharpens the faculties of observation, and teaches one where to look and what to look for. By a man's finger nails, by his coat-sleeve, by his boot, by his trouser knees, by the callosities of his forefinger and thumb, by his expression, by his shirt cuffs -- by each of these things a man's calling is plainly revealed. That all united should fail to enlighten the competent enquirer in any case is almost inconceivable."
"What ineffable twaddle!" I cried, slapping the magazine down on the table, "I never read such rubbish in my life."
"What is it?" asked Sherlock Holmes.
"Why, this article," I said, pointing at it with my egg spoon as I sat down to my breakfast. "I see that you have read it since you have marked it. I don't deny that it is smartly written. It irritates me though. It is evidently the theory of some arm-chair lounger who evolves all these neat little paradoxes in the seclusion of his own study. It is not practical. I should like to see him clapped down in a third class carriage on the Underground, and asked to give the trades of all his fellow-travellers. I would lay a thousand to one against him."
"You would lose your money," Sherlock Holmes remarked calmly. "As for the article I wrote it myself."
"You!"
"Yes, I have a turn both for observation and for deduction. The theories which I have expressed there, and which appear to you to be so chimerical are really extremely practical -- so practical that I depend upon them for my bread and cheese."
"And how?" I asked involuntarily.
"Well, I have a trade of my own. I suppose I am the only one in the world. I'm a consulting detective, if you can understand what that is. Here in London we have lots of Government detectives and lots of private ones. When these fellows are at fault they come to me, and I manage to put them on the right scent. They lay all the evidence before me, and I am generally able, by the help of my knowledge of the history of crime, to set them straight. There is a strong family resemblance about misdeeds, and if you have all the details of a thousand at your finger ends, it is odd if you can't unravel the thousand and first. Lestrade is a well-known detective. He got himself into a fog recently over a forgery case, and that was what brought him here."
"And these other people?"
"They are mostly sent on by private inquiry agencies. They are all people who are in trouble about something, and want a little enlightening. I listen to their story, they listen to my comments, and then I pocket my fee."
"But do you mean to say," I said, "that without leaving your room you can unravel some knot which other men can make nothing of, although they have seen every detail for themselves?"
"Quite so. I have a kind of intuition that way. Now and again a case turns up which is a little more complex. Then I have to bustle about and see things with my own eyes. You see I have a lot of special knowledge which I apply to the problem, and which facilitates matters wonderfully. Those rules of deduction laid down in that article which aroused your scorn, are invaluable to me in practical work. Observation with me is second nature. You appeared to be surprised when I told you, on our first meeting, that you had come from Afghanistan."
"You were told, no doubt."
"Nothing of the sort. I _knew_ you came from Afghanistan. From long habit the train of thoughts ran so swiftly through my mind, that I arrived at the conclusion without being conscious of intermediate steps. There were such steps, however. The train of reasoning ran, `Here is a gentleman of a medical type, but with the air of a military man. Clearly an army doctor, then. He has just come from the tropics, for his face is dark, and that is not the natural tint of his skin, for his wrists are fair. He has undergone hardship and sickness, as his haggard face says clearly. His left arm has been injured. He holds it in a stiff and unnatural manner. Where in the tropics could an English army doctor have seen much hardship and got his arm wounded? Clearly in Afghanistan.' The whole train of thought did not occupy a second. I then remarked that you came from Afghanistan, and you were astonished."
"It is simple enough as you explain it," I said, smiling. "You remind me of Edgar Allen Poe's Dupin. I had no idea that such individuals did exist outside of stories."
Sherlock Holmes rose and lit his pipe. "No doubt you think that you are complimenting me in comparing me to Dupin," he observed. "Now, in my opinion, Dupin was a very inferior fellow. That trick of his of breaking in on his friends' thoughts with an apropos remark after a quarter of an hour's silence is really very showy and superficial. He had some analytical genius, no doubt; but he was by no means such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine."
"Have you read Gaboriau's works?" I asked. "Does Lecoq come up to your idea of a detective?"
Sherlock Holmes sniffed sardonically. "Lecoq was a miserable bungler," he said, in an angry voice; "he had only one thing to recommend him, and that was his energy. That book made me positively ill. The question was how to identify an unknown prisoner. I could have done it in twenty-four hours. Lecoq took six months or so. It might be made a text-book for detectives to teach them what to avoid."
I felt rather indignant at having two characters whom I had admired treated in this cavalier style. I walked over to the window, and stood looking out into the busy street. "This fellow may be very clever," I said to myself, "but he is certainly very conceited."
"There are no crimes and no criminals in these days," he said, querulously. "What is the use of having brains in our profession. I know well that I have it in me to make my name famous. No man lives or has ever lived who has brought the same amount of study and of natural talent to the detection of crime which I have done. And what is the result? There is no crime to detect, or, at most, some bungling villany with a motive so transparent that even a Scotland Yard official can see through it."
I was still annoyed at his bumptious style of conversation. I thought it best to change the topic.
"I wonder what that fellow is looking for?" I asked, pointing to a stalwart, plainly-dressed individual who was walking slowly down the other side of the street, looking anxiously at the numbers. He had a large blue envelope in his hand, and was evidently the bearer of a message.
"You mean the retired sergeant of Marines," said Sherlock Holmes.
"Brag and bounce!" thought I to myself. "He knows that I cannot verify his guess."
The thought had hardly passed through my mind when the man whom we were watching caught sight of the number on our door, and ran rapidly across the roadway. We heard a loud knock, a deep voice below, and heavy steps ascending the stair.
"For Mr. Sherlock Holmes," he said, stepping into the room and handing my friend the letter.
Here was an opportunity of taking the conceit out of him. He little thought of this when he made that random shot. "May I ask, my lad," I said, in the blandest voice, "what your trade may be?"
"Commissionaire, sir," he said, gruffly. "Uniform away for repairs."
"And you were?" I asked, with a slightly malicious glance at my companion.
"A sergeant, sir, Royal Marine Light Infantry, sir. No answer? Right, sir."
He clicked his heels together, raised his hand in a salute, and was gone.