血字的研究/四签名
2009-1
清华大学出版社
阿瑟·柯南·道尔
269
无
阿瑟·柯南·道尔（Arthur Conan Doyle，1859-1930），英国著名侦探小说家、剧作家，现代侦探小说的奠基人之一，被誉为“英国侦探小说之父”。 他于1859年5月22日出生于爱丁堡，1881年获爱丁堡大学医学博士学位。博士毕业后，柯南·道尔以行医为职业。1885年，柯南·道尔开始创作侦探小说《血字的研究》，并于1887年发表在《比顿圣诞年刊》上。1890年，柯南·道尔出版了第二部小说《四签名》，并一举成名。次年，他弃医从文，专事侦探小说的创作，陆续出版以福尔摩斯为主人公的系列侦探小说：《波希米亚丑闻》、《红发会》、《身份案》、《恐怖谷》、《五个橘核》、《巴斯克维尔的猎犬》等。1902年，他因有关布尔战争的著作被加封为爵士。1930年7月7日，柯南·道尔逝世于英国。 柯南·道尔一生共创作了60多篇以福尔摩斯为主人公的侦探小说，他塑造的福尔摩斯形象其实就是正义的化身。福尔摩斯已成为世界上家喻户晓的人物、侦探的象征，印在全世界不同种族、不同肤色的人心中。福尔摩斯是一个栩栩如生、有血有肉的形象。他活动在伦敦大雾迷漫的街道上、普普通通的公寓里，似乎随时都可能跟走在街上的读者擦肩而过，因此使人感到十分亲切可信。福尔摩斯善于运用医学、心理学、逻辑学，尤其是他的逻辑推理能力令人叹为观止。他又十分注重调查研究，并且对案子极其热情、认真负责，这些使他的侦探本领到了神鬼莫测的境地。柯南·道尔通过福尔摩斯探案故事，宣扬善恶有报、法网难逃的思想。小说中所涉及的医学、化学、生物学、犯罪学、法学知识以及探案和侦察方法，即便是对今天的侦探工作也具有一定的借鉴作用。 柯南·道尔以福尔摩斯为主人公的系列侦探小说出版100多年来，一直畅销至今，被译成世界上几十种语言，是全世界公认的侦探小说名著。在中国，福尔摩斯系列侦探小说是最受广大读者欢迎的外国文学之一。
A Study in Scarlet，The Sign of Four，中文译名分别为《血字的研究》、《四签名》，这是两部充满传奇、冒险与智慧的侦探故事，由英国著名侦探小说家、“英国侦探小说之父”阿瑟·柯南·道尔编著。在充满雾气的伦敦贝克街上，住着一位富有正义感的侦探福尔摩斯。他和他忠实的医生朋友华生一起经历了无数千奇百怪的案子，制造了许多经典的侦探故事。《血字的研究》与《四签名》便是其中最经典的两部，被公认为世界侦探小说的经典之作，至今已被译成世界上多种文字，曾经先后多次被改编成电影。书中所展现主人公福尔摩斯的传奇故事伴随了一代又一代人的美丽童年、少年直至成年。 无论作为语言学习的课本，还是作为通俗的文学读本，本书对当代中国读者，特别是青少年读者将产生积极的影响。为了使读者能够了解英文故事概况，进而提高阅读速度和阅读水平，在每章的开始部分增加了中文导读。
阿瑟·柯南·道尔，（Arthur Conan Doyle，1859-1930），英国著名侦探小说家、剧作家，现代侦探小说的奠基人之一，被誉为“英国侦探小说之父”。
血字的研究 A Study in Scarlet 1第一部 华生医生的回忆/Part 1 Being a Reprint from the Reminiscences of John H. Watson, M. D., Late of the Army Medical Department 2第1章 夏洛克·福尔摩斯/Chapter 1 Mr. Sherlock Holmes 3第2章 演绎学/Chapter 2 The Science of Deduction 12第3章 劳悦斯顿园之秘/Chapter 3 The Lauriston Garden Mystery 24第4章 约翰·阮斯的说法/Chapter 4 What John Rance Had to Tell 36第5章 我们的广告带来了一位访客/Chapter 5 Our Advertisement Brings a Visitor 44第6章 陶拜斯?葛里格森的做法/Chapter 6 Tobias Gregson Shows What He Can Do 52第7章 黑暗之光/Chapter 7 Light in the Darkness 63第二部 圣徒的故乡/Part 2 The Country of the Saints 73第1章 荒原之上/Chapter 1 On the Great Alkali Plain 74第2章 犹他之花/Chapter 2 The Flower of Utah 85第3章 约翰·佛瑞尔与先知交谈/Chapter 3 John Ferrier Talks with the Prophet 93第4章 为活命而逃/Chapter 4 A Flight for Life 99第5章 复仇天使/Chapter 5 The Avenging Angels 109第6章 华生医生的回忆/Chapter 6 A Continuation of the Reminiscences of John Watson, M. D. 120第7章 结束语/Chapter 7 The Conclusion 132四签名 The Sign of Four 139第1章 演绎学/Chapter 1 The Science of Deduction 140第2章 案件说明/Chapter 2 The Statement of the Case 149第3章 寻求解答/Chapter 3 In Quest of a Solution 155第4章 那名秃头男子的故事/Chapter 4 The Story of the Bald-Headed Man 162第5章 樱池别墅的悲剧/Chapter 5 The Tragedy of Pondicherry Lodge 173第6章 福尔摩斯的实地表演/Chapter 6 Sherlock Holmes Gives a Demonstration 181第7章 木桶的插曲/Chapter 7 The Episode of the Barrel 192第8章 贝克街杂牌警探队/Chapter 8 The Baker Street Irregulars 204第9章 线索中断/Chapter 9 A Break in the Chain 215第10章 土人的末日/Chapter 10 The End of the Islander 226第11章 亚格拉宝藏/Chapter 11 The Great Agra Treasure 236第12章 约翰生·史莫的奇怪故事/Chapter 12 The Strange Story of Jonathan Small 243
第1章 夏洛克·福尔摩斯 Chapter 1 Mr. Sherlock Holmes 华生，一八七八年在伦敦大学取得医学博士学位，曾参加国外战争，在旺德战役中负伤回国休养。 回国后华生住在一家私人旅馆，后来由于经济原因，想找一个便宜点的住处。一天，他和包扎护士史丹佛闲谈时，史丹佛说在医院化学试验室工作的夏洛克?福尔摩斯正好想找人合租房子。他是个一流的化学师，而且对解剖学很精通。 华生想见一见福尔摩斯。在去医院的路上，史丹佛对此事有点儿担心：福尔摩斯的性格及一些古怪的做法使他担心他们合不来。试验室只有福尔摩斯一个人在做试验，听到他们的脚步声，他高兴地走过来告诉大家自己终于找到了一种只沉淀血红素，而不和其他物质产生反应的试剂。 史丹佛为他俩做了介绍，福尔摩斯推断出华生从阿富汗回来，并拉着他来到桌旁，从手上取了一点血放入一公升的水中，然后将一点点结晶放入容器，再放入一些滴过血的水，水变成红褐色而沉淀出一些棕色的微小颗粒，他向大家解释一个人在案发几个月后被怀疑，用这种方法测试嫌疑犯衣服上的污渍就可以判断出是不是血迹。 史丹佛告诉福尔摩斯华生想找住处，因此想把他们凑在一起。福尔摩斯很高兴地告诉他们自己在贝克街看中了一套房子。于是两人都将自己的爱好和习惯都说了出来，并约定次日中午去看房子。华生和史丹佛告别福尔摩斯出来，仍然不知道他怎么知道自己是从阿富汗回来的。 n the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course prescribed for surgeons in the Army. Having completed my studies there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as assistant surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and was already deep in the enemys country. I followed, however, with many other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once entered upon my new duties. The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a packhorse, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines. Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already improved so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to bask a little upon the veranda,when I was struck down by enteric fever, that curse of our Indian possessions. For months my life was despaired of, and when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was so weak and emaciated that a medical board determined that not a day should be lost in sending me back to England. I was despatched, accordingly, in the troopship Orontes, and landed a month later on Portsmouth jetty, with my health irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal government to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve it. I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as air—or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will permit a man to be. Under such circumstances I naturally gravitated to London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I stayed for some time at a private hotel in the Strand, leading a comfortless, meaningless existence, and spending such money as I had, considerably more freely than I ought. So alarming did the state of my finances become, that I soon realized that I must either leave the metropolis and rusticate somewhere in the country, or that I must make a complete alteration in my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making up my mind to leave the hotel, and take up my quarters in some less pretentious and less expensive domicile. On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was standing at the Criterion Bar, when someone tapped me on the shoulder, and turning round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at Barrs. The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London is a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never been a particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm, and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me. In the exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and we started off together in a hansom. “Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?” he asked in undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets. “You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut.” I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded it by the time that we reached our destination. “Poor devil!” he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to my misfortunes. “What are you up to now?” “Looking for lodgings,” I answered. “Trying to solve the problem as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable price.” “Thats a strange thing,” remarked my companion; “you are the second man today that has used that expression to me.” “And who was the first?” I asked. “A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital. He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which were too much for his purse.” “By Jove!” I cried; “if he really wants someone to share the rooms and the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a parmer to being alone.” Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wineglass. “You dont know Sherlock Holmes yet,” he said; “perhaps you would not care for him as a constant companion.” “Why, what is there against him?” “Oh, I didnt say there was anything against him. He is a little queer in his ideas—an enthusiast in some branches of science. As far as I know he is a decent fellow enough.” “A medical student, I suppose?” said I. “No—I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is well up in anatomy, and he is a first-class chemist; but, as far as I know, he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His studies are very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the-way knowledge which would astonish his professors.” “Did you never ask him what he was going in for?” I asked. “No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be communicative enough when the fancy seizes him.” “I should like to meet him,” I said. “If I am to lodge with anyone, I should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong enough yet to stand much noise or eycitement. I had enough of both in Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural existence. How could I meet this friend of yours?” “He is sure to be at the laboratory,” returned my companion. “He either avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from morning till night. If you like, we will drive round together after luncheon.” “Certainly,” I answered, and the conversation drifted away into other channels. As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the Holborn, Stamford gave me a few more particulars about the gentleman whom I proposed to take as a fellow-lodger. “You mustnt blame me if you dont get on with him,” he said; “I know nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you must not hold me responsible.” “If we dont get on it will be easy to part company,” I answered. “It seems to me, Stamford,” I added, looking hard at my companion, “that you have some reason for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellows temper so formidable, or what is it? Dont be mealymouthed about it.” “It is not easy to express the inexpressible,” he answered with a laugh. “Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes—it approaches to cold- bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand, but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and exact knowledge.” “Very right too.” “Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the subjects in the dissecting rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking rather a bizarre shape.” “Beating the subjects!” “Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him at it with my own eyes.” “And yet you say he is not a medical student?” “No. Heaven knows what the objects of his studies are. But here we are, and you must form your own impressions about him.” As he spoke, we turned down a narrow lane and passed through a small side door, which opened into a wing of the great hospital. It was familiar ground to me, and I needed no guiding as we ascended the bleak stone staircase and made our way down the long corridor with its vista of whitewashed wall and dun-coloured doors. Near the farther end a low arched passage branched away from it and led to the chemical laboratory. This was a lofty chamber, lined and littered with countless bottles. Broad, low tables were scattered about, which bristled with retorts, test-tubes, and little Bunsen lamps, with their blue flickering flames. There was only one student in the room, who was bending over a distant table absorbed in his work. At the sound of our steps he glanced round and sprang to his feet with a cry of pleasure. “Ive found it! Ive found it,” he shouted to my companion, running towards us with a test-tube in his hand. “I have found a re-agent which is precipitated by h?moglobin, and by nothing else.” Had he discovered a gold mine, greater delight could not have shone upon his features. “Dr. Watson, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said Stamford, introducing us. “How are you?” he said cordially, gripping my hand with a strength for which I should hardly have given him credit. “You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.” “How on earth did you know that?” I asked in astonishment. “Never mind” said he, chuckling to himself. “The question now is about h?moglobin. No doubt you see the significance of this discovery of mine?” “It is interesting, chemically, no doubt,” I answered, “but practically—” “Why, man, it is the most practical medico-legal discovery for years. Dont you see that it gives us an infallible test for blood stains? Come over here now!” He seized me by the coatsleeve in his eagerness, and drew me over to the table at which he had been working. “Let us have some fresh blood,” he said, digging a long bodkin into his finger, and drawing off the resulting drop of blood in a chemical pipette. “Now, I add this small quantity of blood to a litre of water. You perceive that the resulting mixture has the appearance of pure water. The proportion of blood cannot be more than one in a million. I have no doubt, however, that we shall be able to obtain the characteristic reaction.” As he spoke, he threw into the vessel a few white crystals, and then added some drops of a transparent fluid. In an instant the contents assumed a dull mahogany colour, and a brownish dust was precipitated to the bottom of the glass jar. “Ha! ha!” he cried, clapping his hands, and looking as delighted as a child with a new toy. “What do you think of that?” “It seems to be a very delicate test,” I remarked. “Beautiful! beautiful! The old guaiacum test was very clumsy and uncertain. So is the microscopic examination for blood corpuscles. The latter is valueless if the stains are a few hours old. Now, this appears to act as well whether the blood is old or new. Had this test been invented, there are hundreds of men now walking the earth who would long ago have paid the penalty of their crimes.” “Indeed!” I murmured. “Criminal cases are continually hinging upon that one point. A man is suspected of a crime months perhaps after it has been committed. His linen or clothes are examined and brownish stains discovered upon them. Are they blood stains, or mud stains, or rust stains, or fruit stains, or what are they? That is a question which has puzzled many an expert, and why? Because there was no reliable test. Now we have the Sherlock Holmess test, and there will no longer be any difficulty.” His eyes fairly glittered as he spoke, and he put his hand over his heart and bowed as if to some applauding crowd conjured up by his imagination. “You are to be congratulated,” I remarked, considerably surprised at his enthusiasm. “There was the case of Von Bischoff at Frankfort last year. He would certainly have been hung had this test been in existence. Then there was Mason of Bradford, and the notorious Muller, and Lefevre of Montpellier, and Samson of New Orleans. I could name a score of cases in which it would have been decisive.” “You seem to be a walking calendar of crime,” said Stamford with a laugh. “You might start a paper on those lines. Call it the Police News of the Past.” “Very interesting reading it might be made, too,” remarked Sherlock Holmes, sticking a small piece of plaster over the prick on his finger. “I have to be careful,” he continued, turning to me with a smile, “for I dabble with poisons a good deal.” He held out his hand as he spoke, and I noticed that it was all mottled over with similar pieces of plaster, and discoloured with strong acids. “We came here on business,” said Stamford, sitting down on a high three-legged stool, and pushing another one in my direction with his foot. “My friend here wants to take diggings; and as you were complaining that you could get no one to go halves with you, I thought that I had better bring you together.” Sherlock Holmes seemed delighted at the idea of sharing his rooms with me. “I have my eye on a suite in Baker Street,” he said, “which would suit us down to the ground. You dont mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope?” “I always smoke ships myself,” I answered. “Thats good enough. I generally have chemicals about, and occasionally do experiments. Would that annoy you?” “By no means.” “Let me see—what are my other shortcomings? I get in the dumps at times, and dont open my mouth for days on end. You must not think I am sulky when I do that. Just let me alone, and Ill soon be right. What have you to confess now? Its just as well for two fellows to know the worst of one another before they begin to live together.” I laughed at this cross-examination. “I keep a bull pup,” I said, “and I object to rows because my nerves are shaken, and I get up at all sorts of ungodly hours, and I am extremely lazy. I have another set of vices when Im well, but those are the principal ones at present.” “Do you include violin playing in your category of rows?” he asked, anxiously. “It depends on the player,” I answered. “A well-played violin is a treat for the gods—a badly played one—” “Oh, thats all right,” he cried, with a merry laugh. “I think we may consider the thing as settled—that is, if the rooms are agreeable to you.” “When shall we see them?” “Call for me here at noon to-morrow, and well go together and settle everything” he answered. “All right—noon exactly,” said I, shaking his hand. We left him working among his chemicals, and we walked together towards my hotel. “By the way,” I asked suddenly, stopping and turning upon Stamford, “how the deuce did he know that I had come from Afghanistan?” My companion smiled an enigmatical smile. “Thats just his little peculiarity,” he said. “A good many people have wanted to know how he finds things out.” “Oh! a mystery is it?” I cried, rubbing my hands. “This is very piquaut. I am much obliged to you gor bringing us together. The proper study of mankind is man, you know.” “You must study him, then,” Stamford said, as he bade me good-bye. “Youll find him a knotty problem, though. Ill wager he learns more about you than you about him. Good-bye.” “Good-bye,” I answered, and strolled on to my hotel, considerably interested in my new acquaintance.
同名英文原版书火热销售中：A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four
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感觉比哈利波特好懂些。中文版已经看得滚瓜烂熟所以并不很困难，只是生词较多。
书很好，只有导读，能够按照自己的习惯去翻译。赞~\(≧▽≦)/~
这本是买给弟弟看的，拿到手后没怎么看就给弟弟邮寄了，草草的翻了一下，感觉还是很不错的，把中文的全集都看完了，很钦佩译者，能在他传神的译文中去感受那种心惊肉跳，毛骨悚然，所以就很想看看原著究竟什么样，还好，没有让我失望
又有中文，又有英文，适合英语不好的
首先，书的质量很好，纸质和印刷排版都有赏心悦目的感觉~再有，书的内容就不必说了，经典
很不错啊，质量很好，纸质也不错，以前就经常看这一系列的英文书啦~~
图书质量很好，英文原著读起来很有意思
看了原版，才知道外国文学的魅力
\(^o^)/~好 有助于学习
书包装很好 纸张手感也很不错
超级棒 要是有中英互译就好了 不过这也比一些中文版的好得多得多
很大一本，需要一些时间研究，封面没有想象的精致，中文翻译不够严谨，适合练练英文用。。
这一次速度还可以。
不错,书的质量还好
可以增强自己的思维能力。但印刷差强人意。
儿子每天睡前必读，很好
还好吧，不过有点深奥难懂
买此书，主要是看中他的英语原著。如果是英语学的很好的孩子，看起来应该非常过瘾。有限的导读也能让你简单了解剧情。但是，如果你的英语不好或者没有不懂就查字典的耐力，看着会比较吃力。
唉，有点想睡觉的感觉，气氛不紧张，一看就可以猜到结局，印象不深刻都已经忘记了.