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Sherlock Holmes Christmas Special: The Blue Carbuncle - Sherlock's Christmas Case & 63 Other Sherlock Holmes Thrillers in One Holiday Edition Illustrated: A Study in Scarlet, The Sign of Four, The Hound of the Baskervilles, The Valley of Fear, How Watson Learned the Trick, The Return of Sherlock Holmes, The Crown Diamond, His Last Bow... von Doyle, Arthur Conan (eBook)

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Sherlock Holmes Christmas Special: The Blue Carbuncle - Sherlock's Christmas Case & 63 Other Sherlock Holmes Thrillers in One Holiday Edition

Sherlock Holmes is a 'consulting detective' known for his proficiency with observation, forensic science, and logical reasoning that borders on the fantastic, which he employs when investigating cases for a wide variety of clients, including Scotland Yard. The Sherlock Holmes stories are generally considered milestones in the field of crime fiction. Table of Contents: Sherlock's Christmas Case: The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle A Study in Scarlet The Sign of Four The Hound of the Baskervilles The Valley of Fear A Scandal in Bohemia The Red-Headed League A Case of Identity The Boscombe Valley Mystery The Five Orange Pips The Man with the Twisted Lip The Adventure of the Speckled Band The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet The Adventure of the Copper Beeches Silver Blaze The Yellow Face The Stock-Broker's Clerk The 'Gloria Scott' The Musgrave Ritual The Reigate Puzzle The Crooked Man The Resident Patient The Greek Interpreter The Naval Treaty The Final Problem The Adventure of the Empty House The Adventure of the Norwood Builder The Adventure of the Dancing Men The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist The Adventure of the Priory School The Adventure of Black Peter The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton The Adventure of the Six Napoleons The Adventure of the Three Students The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez The Adventure of the Missing Three-Quarter The Adventure of the Abbey Grange The Adventure of the Second Stain The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge The Adventure of the Red Circle The Adventure of the Cardboard Box The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans The Adventure of the Dying Detective The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax The Adventure of the Devil's Foot His Last Bow: An Epilogue of Sherlock Holmes The Adventure of the Illustrious Client The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone The Adventure of the Three Gables The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire ...

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    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: watermark
    Seitenzahl: 1679
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9788026881247
    Verlag: e-artnow
    Größe: 24822 kBytes
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Sherlock Holmes Christmas Special: The Blue Carbuncle - Sherlock's Christmas Case & 63 Other Sherlock Holmes Thrillers in One Holiday Edition

I. Mr. Sherlock Holmes

Table of Contents

In 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 enemy's country. I followed, however, with many other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded in reaching Kandahar 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 pack-horse, 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 verandah, 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 dispatched, 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 realised 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 to 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 some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning round I recognised young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at Barts. 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,

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