"Case Book Of Sherlock Holmes, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Arthur Conan)

Bow. and there remain these twelve published during the last few years
which are here produced under the title of The Case Book of Sherlock
Holmes. He began his adventures in the very heart of the later Victorian
era, carried it through the all-too-short reign of Edward, and has managed to
hold his own little niche even in these feverish days. Thus it would be true
to say that those who first read of him, as young men, have lived to see
their own grown-up children following the same adventures in the same
magazine. It is a striking example of the patience and loyalty of the British
public.
I had fully determined at the conclusion of The Memoirs to bring Holmes
to an end, as I felt that my literary energies should not be directed too
much into one channel. That pale, clear-cut face and loose-limbed figure
were taking up an undue share of my imagination. I did the deed, but
fortunately no coroner had pronounced upon the remains, and so, after a
long interval, it was not difficult for me to respond to the flattering demand
and to explain my rash act away. I have never regretted it, for I have not in
actual practice found that these lighter sketches have prevented me from
exploring and finding my limitations in such varied branches of literature as
history, poetry, historical novels, psychic research, and the drama. Had
Holmes never existed I could not have done more, though he may perhaps
have stood a little in the way of the recognition of my more serious literary
work.
And so, reader, farewell to Sherlock Holmes! I thank you for your past
constancy, and can but hope that some return has been made in the shape
of that distraction from the worries of life and stimulating change of
thought which can only be found in the fairy kingdom of romance.

ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.



The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone

It was pleasant to Dr. Watson to find himself once more in the
untidy room of the first floor in Baker Street which had been the
starting-point of so many remarkable adventures. He looked
round him at the scientific charts upon the wall, the acid-charred
bench of chemicals, the violin-case leaning in the corner, the
coal-scuttle, which contained of old the pipes and tobacco. Fi-
nally, his eyes came round to the fresh and smiling face of Billy,
the young but very wise and tactful page, who had helped a little
to fill up the gap of loneliness and isolation which surrounded
the saturnine figure of the great detective.
"It all seems very unchanged, Billy. You don't change, ei-
ther. I hope the same can be said of him?"
Billy glanced with some solicitude at the closed door of the
bedroom.
"I think he's in bed and asleep," he said.
It was seven in the evening of a lovely summer's day, but Dr.
Watson was sufficiently familiar with the irregularity of his old