【英文听力原声】夏洛克福尔摩斯：四签名 Chapter 1 第一章

Day 1  

In the summer of 1888 I was living with my good friend Sherlock Holmes, the famous detective, in Baker Street. He was so highly intelligent that he never failed to surprise me.

One morning in July he turned to me lazily and said: 'Watson, if I am not wrong, you have been to the post office in Wigmore Street to send a telegram.'

He was, of course, quite right, but I had no idea how he could know this. I had told no one.

'Very good, Holmes,' I replied. 'Did you follow me when I went out?'

'No, Watson,' Holmes smiled.

'Then perhaps you will explain,' I said, a little impatiently.

'Elementary, Watson,' my friend replied. 'There's a little reddish mud on your shoe. Outside the post office in Wigmore Street, men are working on the road. I saw them yesterday. The ground there is red, and it's impossible to enter the post office without stepping in it.'

'As you say, Holmes, elementary,' I said. 'And the telegram?'

'Because we were here together all morning, I knew that you hadn't written a letter. There are stamps and postcards on your desk, so why did you go to the post office and not a post box? To send a telegram, of course!'

At that moment there was a knock on the door and our housekeeper, Mrs Hudson, entered.

'There's a young lady to see you,' she informed us. 'Miss Mary Morstan.'

'Mary Morstan,' Holmes repeated. 'I don't recognize the name. Please ask her to come in, Mrs Hudson.'

He turned to me.

'Don't go, Doctor. Please stay and listen to the lady's story.'

I was happy to do as he said. When Miss Morstan came into the room, she seemed calm, but it was clear that she didn't want to waste any time. She was a young woman, small, with fair hair. Her clothes showed good taste, but they weren't expensive. She had a pleasant face and beautiful blue eyes. She looked serious and intelligent, but not, I thought, rich. Holmes invited her to sit down and, as she took her seat, for the first time she seemed worried. Mrs Hudson left us, and our visitor began her story.

'Mr Holmes,' she said, 'I find myself in a very strange situation. I don't understand it at all.'

My friend Sherlock Holmes looked very interested.

'Please tell us everything,' he said.

'My father was an officer in the army,' she continued. 'He was sent to India, where I was born. Two years later, my mother died and I was sent home to Scotland. I lived in a small hotel in Edinburgh until I was seventeen. In 1878 my father returned from India. He sent me a telegram from London asking me to travel south to meet him. He wrote that he was looking forward to seeing me. I took the train to London, then drove to his hotel, but he wasn't there. They told me that Captain Morstan had gone out the night before and had not returned. I waited all day, but there was no news of him so I went to the police. The next day I put an advertisement in all the newspapers, but there was still no news. And since then I have heard nothing of my father.'