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

collar-ends undone and the tingling after-taste of brandy upon
my lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in his hand.
"My dear Watson," said the well-remembered voice, "I owe you a
thousand apologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected."
I gripped him by the arms.
"Holmes!" I cried. "Is it really you? Can it indeed be that you
are alive? Is it possible that you succeeded in climbing out of
that awful abyss?"
"Wait a moment," said he. "Are you sure that you are really fit
to discuss things? I have given you a serious shock by my
unnecessarily dramatic reappearance."
"I am all right, but indeed, Holmes, I can hardly believe my
eyes. Good heavens! to think that you--you of all men--should be
standing in my study." Again I gripped him by the sleeve, and
felt the thin, sinewy arm beneath it. "Well, you're not a spirit
anyhow," said I. "My dear chap, I'm overjoyed to see you. Sit
down, and tell me how you came alive out of that dreadful chasm."
He sat opposite to me, and lit a cigarette in his old,
nonchalant manner. He was dressed in the seedy frockcoat of the
book merchant, but the rest of that individual lay in a pile of
white hair and old books upon the table. Holmes looked even
thinner and keener than of old, but there was a dead-white tinge
in his aquiline face which told me that his life recently had
not been a healthy one.
"I am glad to stretch myself, Watson," said he. "It is no joke
when a tall man has to take a foot off his stature for several
hours on end. Now, my dear fellow, in the matter of these
explanations, we have, if I may ask for your cooperation, a hard
and dangerous night's work in front of us. Perhaps it would be
better if I gave you an account of the whole situation when that
work is finished."
"I am full of curiosity. I should much prefer to hear now."
"You'll come with me to-night?"
"When you like and where you like."
"This is, indeed, like the old days. We shall have time for a
mouthful of dinner before we need go. Well, then, about that
chasm. I had no serious difficulty in getting out of it, for the
very simple reason that I never was in it."
"You never were in it?"
"No, Watson, I never was in it. My note to you was absolutely
genuine. I had little doubt that I had come to the end of my
career when I perceived the somewhat sinister figure of the late
Professor Moriarty standing upon the narrow pathway which led to
safety. I read an inexorable purpose in his gray eyes. I
exchanged some remarks with him, therefore, and obtained his
courteous permission to write the short note which you
afterwards received. I left it with my cigarette-box and my
stick, and I walked along the pathway, Moriarty still at my
heels. When I reached the end I stood at bay. He drew no weapon,
but he rushed at me and threw his long arms around me. He knew