黄面人01（在线收听）

[In publishing these short sketches based upon the numerous cases in which my companion’s singular gifts have made us the listeners to, and eventually the actors in, some strange drama, it is only natural that I should dwell rather upon his successes than upon his failures. And this not so much for the sake of his reputation — for, indeed, it was when he was at his wit’s end that his energy and his versatility were most admirable — but because where he failed it happened too often that no one else succeeded, and that the tale was left forever without a conclusion. Now and again, however, it chanced that even when he erred the truth was still discovered. I have notes of some half-dozen cases of the kind, the adventure of the Musgrave Ritual and that which I am about to recount are the two which present the strongest features of interest.]

Sherlock Holmes was a man who seldom took exercise for exercise’s sake. Few men were capable of greater muscular effort, and he was undoubtedly one of the finest boxers of his weight that I have ever seen; but he looked upon aimless bodily exertion as a waste of energy, and he seldom bestirred himself save where there was some professional object to be served. Then he was absolutely untiring and indefatigable. That he should have kept himself in training under such circumstances is remarkable, but his diet was usually of the sparest, and his habits were simple to the verge of austerity. Save for the occasional use of cocaine, he had no vices, and he only turned to the drug as a protest against the monotony of existence when cases were scanty and the papers uninteresting.

One day in early spring he had so far relaxed as to go for a walk with me in the Park, where the first faint shoots of green were breaking out upon the elms, and the sticky spear-heads of the chestnuts were just beginning to burst into their five-fold leaves. For two hours we rambled about together, in silence for the most part, as befits two men who know each other intimately. It was nearly five before we were back in Baker Street once more.

“Beg pardon, sir,” said our page-boy as he opened the door. “There’s been a gentleman here asking for you, sir.”

Holmes glanced reproachfully at me. “So much for afternoon walks!” said he. “Has this gentleman gone, then?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Didn’t you ask him in?”

“Yes, sir, he came in.”

“How long did he wait?”

“Half an hour, sir. He was a very restless gentleman, sir a-walkin’ and a-stampin’ all the time he was here. I was waitin’ outside the door, sir, and I could hear him. At last he outs into the passage, and he cries, ‘Is that man never goin’ to come?’ Those were his very words, sir. ‘You’ll only need to wait a little longer,’ says I. ‘Then I’ll wait in the open air, for I feel half choked,’ says he. ‘I’ll be back before long.’ And with that he ups and he outs, and all I could say wouldn’t hold him back.”

假面人

在一些神秘的案件中，我的朋友福尔摩斯的非凡才能使我们对一些离奇的戏剧性故事听得入了神，最后我们自己也投身到这些故事中去了。在我发表根据这些案件所写的短篇小说时，很自然地就把他的成就写得比失败要详细得多。我所以这样做，并不是为了顾全福尔摩斯的名声——事实上，每逢濒于绝境时，他的精力和多才多能实在令人钦佩不迭——而是因为凡是福尔摩斯遭到失败之处，别人也不会成功，而故事也就永远没有结局了。然而，往往发生一种情况，甚至当他出现了错误，最后还是被他查出了真情。我曾注意到五六种这类情况的案子，其中有两件案子最明显而引人入胜，一件是马斯格雷夫礼典案，一件就是我现在准备讲述的故事。

福尔摩斯是一个很少为锻炼身体而进行体育活动的人。一般来说，善于运用自己体力的人并不很多。而毫无疑问，在与他同体重的人中，福尔摩斯是我见过的最优秀的拳击家，不过，他把盲目锻炼身体看作是浪费精力，所以除了与他职业有关的项目以外，他对其余活动一向很少问津。可是他精力非常充沛，不知疲倦。显然，他这样的养身之道，确实是很奇怪的。他的饮食总是很简单的，起居也极其简朴，近于节衣缩食。除了偶尔注射些可卡因以外，福尔摩斯没有其他恶习。每当没有案件可查，而报纸新闻又枯燥无味时，他便求助于麻醉剂，以解除生活的单调。

早春的一天，福尔摩斯清闲起来，居然有时间陪我到公园去散步。此时榆树已生出嫩绿的幼芽，栗树梢头开始冒出五瓣形新叶。我们在一岂不言不语地漫步了两个小时，这对两个互知肺腑的人是很适合的。我们回到贝克街时，已经近五点了。

“请原谅，先生，”我们的小仆人一边开门一边说道，“有一位绅士来找过您，先生。”

福尔摩斯抱怨地望了我一眼。

“这都怪午后散步！”福尔摩斯说道，“那么，这位绅士已经走了吗？”

“是的，先生。”

“你没有请他进来吗？”

“请了，先生，他进来过。”

“他等了多久？”

“他等了半小时，先生。他非常焦躁不安，先生，他一直在屋中踱来踱去，跺着脚。我在门外等候，先生，可是我能听到他的动静。最后他走到过道里大声叫喊说：'是不是他不打算回来了？'他的原话就是这样，先生。我说：'请再稍等一等。'他又说：'那么我到外面去等好了，我在这里快闷死了，过一会我就回来。'说完他就走了，我说什么也留不住他。”