adventure08-第1部分

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Adventure　VIII





The　Resident　Patient





Glancing　over　the　somewhat　incoherent　series　of

Memoirs　with　which　I　have　endeavored　to　illustrate　a

few　of　the　mental　peculiarities　of　my　friend　Mr。

Sherlock　Holmes；　I　have　been　struck　by　the　difficulty

which　I　have　experienced　in　picking　out　examples　which

shall　in　every　way　answer　my　purpose。　　For　in　those

cases　in　which　Holmes　has　performed　some　tour　de　force

of　analytical　reasoning；　and　has　demonstrated　the

value　of　his　peculiar　methods　of　investigation；　the

facts　themselves　have　often　been　so　slight　or　so

commonplace　that　I　could　not　feel　justified　in　laying

them　before　the　public。　　On　the　other　hand；　it　has

frequently　happened　that　he　has　been　concerned　in　some

research　where　the　facts　have　been　of　the　most

remarkable　and　dramatic　character；　but　where　the　share

which　he　has　himself　taken　in　determining　their　causes

has　been　less　pronounced　than　I；　as　his　biographer；

could　wish。　　The　small　matter　which　I　have　chronicled

under　the　heading　of　〃A　Study　in　Scarlet；〃　and　that

other　later　one　connected　with　the　loss　of　the　Gloria

Scott；　may　serve　as　examples　of　this　Scylla　and

Charybdis　which　are　forever　threatening　the　historian。　

It　may　be　that　in　the　business　of　which　I　am　now　about

to　write　the　part　which　my　friend　played　is　not

sufficiently　accentuated；　and　yet　the　whole　train　of

circumstances　is　so　remarkable　that　I　cannot　bring

myself　to　omit　it　entirely　from　this　series。



It　had　been　a　close；　rainy　day　in　October。　　Our　blinds

were　half…drawn；　and　Holmes　lay　curled　upon　the　sofa；

reading　and　re…reading　a　letter　which　he　had　received

by　the　morning　post。　　For　myself；　my　tern　of　service

in　India　had　trained　me　to　stand　heat　better　than

cold；　and　a　thermometer　of　90　was　no　hardship。　　But

the　paper　was　uninteresting。　　Parliament　had　risen。　

Everybody　　was　out　of　town；　and　I　yearned　for　the

glades　of　the　New　Forest　or　the　shingle　of　Southsea。　

A　depleted　bank　account　had　caused　me　to　postpone　my

holiday；　and　as　to　my　companion；　neither　the　country

nor　the　sea　presented　the　slightest　attraction　to　him。　

He　loved　to　lie　in　the　very　centre　of　five　millions　of

people；　with　his　filaments　stretching　out　and　running

through　them；　responsive　to　every　little　rumor　or

suspicion　of　unsolved　crime。　Appreciation　of　Nature

found　no　place　among　his　many　gifts；　and　his　only

change　was　when　he　turned　his　mind　from　the　evil…doer

of　the　town　to　track　down　his　brother　of　the　country。



Finding　that　Holmes　was　too　absorbed　for　conversation；

I　had　tossed　aside　the　barren　paper；　and　leaning　back

in　my　chair；　I　fell　into　a　brown　study。　　Suddenly　my

companion's　voice　broke　in　upon　my　thoughts。



〃You　are　right；　Watson；〃　said　he。　　〃It　does　seem　a

very　preposterous　way　of　settling　a　dispute。〃



〃Most　preposterous！〃　I　exclaimed；　and　then；　suddenly

realizing　how　he　had　echoed　the　inmost　thought　of　my

soul；　I　sat　up　in　my　chair　and　stared　at　him　in　blank

amazement。



〃What　is　this；　Holmes？〃　I　cried。　　〃This　is　beyond

anything　which　I　could　have　imagined。〃



He　laughed　heartily　at　my　perplexity。



〃You　remember；〃　said　he；　〃that　some　little　time　ago；

when　I　read　you　the　passage　in　one　of　Poe's　sketches；

in　which　a　close　reasoner　follows　the　unspoken　thought

of　his　companion；　you　were　inclined　to　treat　the

matter　as　a　mere　tour　de　force　of　the　author。　　On　my

remarking　that　I　was　constantly　in　the　habit　of　doing

the　same　thing　you　expressed　incredulity。〃



〃Oh；　no！〃



〃Perhaps　not　with　your　tongue；　my　dear　Watson；　but

certainly　with　your　eyebrows。　　So　when　I　saw　you　throw

down　your　paper　and　enter　upon　a　train　of　thought；　I

was　very　happy　to　have　the　opportunity　of　reading　it

off；　and　eventually　of　breaking　into　it；　as　a　proof

that　I　had　been　in　rapport　with　you。〃



But　I　was　still　far　from　satisfied。　　〃In　the　example

which　you　read　to　me；〃　said　I；　〃the　reasoner　drew　his

conclusions　from　the　actions　of　the　man　whom　he

observed。　　If　I　remember　right；　he　stumbled　over　a

heap　of　stones；　looked　up　at　the　stars；　and　so　on。　

But　I　have　been　seated　quietly　in　my　chair；　and　what

clews　can　I　have　given　you？〃



〃You　do　yourself　an　injustice。　　The　features　are　given

to　man　as　the　means　by　which　he　shall　express　his

emotions；　and　yours　are　faithful　servants。〃



〃Do　you　mean　to　say　that　you　read　my　train　of　thoughts

from　my　features？〃



〃Your　features；　and　especially　your　eyes。　　Perhaps　you

cannot　yourself　recall　how　your　reverie　commenced？〃



〃No；　I　cannot。〃



〃Then　I　will　tell　you。　　After　throwing　down　your

paper；　which　was　the　action　which　drew　my　attention　to

you；　you　sat　for　half　a　minute　with　a　vacant

expression。　　Then　your　eyes　fixed　themselves　upon　your

newly…framed　picture　of　General　Gordon；　and　I　saw　by

the　alteration　in　your　face　that　a　train　of　thought

had　been　started。　　But　it　did　not　lead　very　far。　　Your

eyes　turned　across　to　the　unframed　portrait　of　Henry

Ward　Beecher　which　stands　upon　the　top　of　your　books。　

You　then　glanced　up　at　the　wall；　and　of　course　your

meaning　was　obvious。　　You　were　thinking　that　if　the

portrait　were　framed　it　would　just　cover　that　bare

space　and　correspond　with　Gordon's　picture　over

there。〃



〃You　have　followed　me　wonderfully！〃　I　exclaimed。



〃So　far　I　could　hardly　have　gone　astray。　　But　now　your

thoughts　went　back　to　Beecher；　and　you　looked　hard

across　as　if　you　were　studying　the　character　in　his

features。　　Then　your　eyes　ceased　to　pucker；　but　you

continued　to　look　across；　and　your　face　was

thoughtful。　　You　were　recalling　the　incidents　of

Beecher's　career。　　I　was　well　aware　that　you　could　not

do　this　without　thinking　of　the　mission　which　he

undertook　on　behalf　of　the　North　at　the　time　of　the

Civil　War；　for　I　remember　you　expressing　your

passionate　indignation　at　the　way　in　which　he　was

received　by　the　more　turbulent　of　our　people。　　You

felt　so　strongly　about　it　that　I　knew　you　could　not

think　of　Beecher　without　thinking　of　that　also。　　When

a　moment　later　I　saw　your　eyes　wander　away　from　the

picture；　I　suspected　that　your　mind　had　now　turned　to

the　Civil　War；　and　when　I　observed　that　your　lips　set；

your　eyes　sparkled；　and　your　hands　clinched；　I　was

positive　that　you　were　indeed　thinking　of　the

gallantry　which　was　shown　by　both　sides　in　that

desperate　struggle。　　But　then；　again；　your　face　grew

sadder；　you　shook　your　head。　　You　were　dwelling　upon

the　sadness　and　horror　and　useless　waste　of　life。　

Your　hand　stole　towards　your　own　old　wound；　and　a

smile　quivered　on　your　lips；　which　showed　me　that　the

ridiculous　side　of　this　method　of　settling

international　questions　had　forced　itself　upon　your

mind。　　At　this　point　I　agreed　with　you　that　it　was

preposterous；　and　was　glad　to　find　that　all　my

deductions　had　been　correct。〃



〃Absolutely！〃　said　I。　　〃And　now　that　you　have

explained　it；　I　confess　that　I　am　as　amazed　as

before。〃



〃It　was　very　superficial；　my　dear　Watson；　I　assure

you。　　I　should　not　have　intruded　it　upon　your

attention　had　you　not　shown　some　incredulity　the　other

day。　　But　the　evening　has　brought　a　breeze　with　it。　

What　do　you　say　to　a　ramble　through　London？〃



I　was　weary　of　our　little　sitting…room　and　gladly

acquiesced。　　For　three　hours　we　strolled　about

together；　watching　the　ever…changing　kaleidoscope　of

life　as　it　ebbs　and　flows　through　Fleet　Street　and　the

Strand。　　His　characteristic　talk；　with　its　keen

observance　of　detail　and　subtle　power　of　inference

held　me　amused　and　enthralled。　　It　was　ten　o'clock

before　we　reached　Baker　Street　again。　　A　brougham　was

waiting　at　our　door。



〃Hum！　　A　doctor'sgeneral　practitioner；　I　perceive；〃

said　Holmes。　　〃Not　been　long　in　practice；　but　has　had

a　good　deal　to　do。　　Come　to　consult　us；　I　fancy！　

Lucky　we　came　back！〃



I　was　sufficiently　conversant　with　Holmes's　methods　to

be　able　to　follow　his　reasoning；　and　to　see　that　the

nature　and　state　of　the　various　medical　instruments　in

the　wicker　basket　which　hung　in　the　lamplight　inside

the　brougham　had　given　him　the　data　for　his　swift

deduction。　　The　light　in　our　window　above　showed　that

this　late　visit　was　indeed　intended　for　us。　　With　some

curiosity　as　to　what　could　have　sent　a　brother　medico

to　us　at　such　an　hour；　I　followed　Holmes　into　our

sanctum。



A　pale；　taper…faced　man　with　sandy　whiskers　rose　up

from　a　chair　by　the　fire　as　we　entered。　　His　age　may

not　have　been　more　than　three　or　four　and　thirty；　but

his　haggard　expression　and　unhealthy　hue　told　of　a

life　which　has　sapped　his　strength　and　robbed　him　of

his　youth。　　His　manner　was　nervous　and　shy；　like　that

of　a　sensitive　gentleman；　and　the　thin　white　hand

which　he　laid　on　the　mantelpiece　as　he　rose　was　that

of　an　artist　rather　than　of　a　surgeon。　　His　dress　was

quiet　and　sombrea　black　frock…coat；　dark　trousers；

and　a　touch　of　color　about　his　necktie。



〃Good…evening；　doctor；〃　said　Holmes；　cheerily。　　〃I　am

glad　to　see　that　you　have　only　been　waiting　a　very　few

minutes。〃



〃You　spoke　to　my　coachman；　then？〃



〃No；　it　was　the　candle　on　the　side…table　that　told　me。　

Pray　resume　your　seat　and　let　me　know　how　I　can　serve

you。〃



〃My　name　is　Doctor　Percy　Trevelyan；〃　said　our　visitor；

〃and　I　live　at　403　Brook　Street。〃



〃Are　you　not　the　author　of　a　monograph　upon　obscure

nervous　lesions？〃　I　asked。



His　pale　cheeks　flushed　with　pleasure　at　hearing　that

his　work　was　known　to　me。



〃I　so　seldom　hear　of　the　work　that　I　thought　it　was

quite　dead；〃　said　he。　　〃My　publishers　gave　me　a　most

discouraging　account　of　its　sale。　　You　are　yourself；　I

presume；　a　medical　man？〃



〃A　retired　army　surgeon。〃



〃My　own　hobby　has　always　been　nervous　disease。　　I

should　wish　to　make　it　an　absolute　specialty；　but；　of

course；　a　man　must　take　what　he　can　get　at　first。　

This；　however；　is　beside　the　question；　Mr。　Sherlock

Holmes；