The Return of Sherlock Holmes

By Arthur Conan Doyle and Otto Penzler

Thirteen tales of crime and intrigue, including the remarkable story of Sherlock Holmes’s return from the dead

It has been three years since Sherlock Holmes, locked in a fierce struggle with his arch-nemesis, Professor Moriarty, disappeared over the edge of the Reichenbach Falls. The world has mourned his loss greatly, no one more so than his good friend and partner in the arts of detection, Dr. Watson. Imagine Watson’s shock, then, when an elderly book collector he bumps into on the street turns out to be none other than the master sleuth himself. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Sherlock Holmes did not die in Switzerland—he vanquished his greatest foe and set a trap for every other would-be mastermind foolish enough to attempt to match wits with the world’s greatest detective.
 
From the astonishing revelation in the opening paragraphs of “The Adventure of the Empty House” to the motiveless murder at the heart of “The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez” to the kidnapping that sets in motion the plot of “The Adventure of the Priory School,” these thirteen classic stories are among the most entertaining and endlessly clever entries in the canon of Sherlock Holmes.
 
This ebook features a new introduction by Otto Penzler and has been professionally proofread to ensure accuracy and readability on all devices.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MysteriousPress.com Open Road
• Release date: Apr 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781480489783

Arthur Conan Doyle

Arthur Conan Doyle (1859-1930) was a Scottish author best known for his classic detective fiction, although he wrote in many other genres including dramatic work, plays, and poetry. He began writing stories while studying medicine and published his first story in 1887. His Sherlock Holmes character is one of the most popular inventions of English literature, and has inspired films, stage adaptions, and literary adaptations for over 100 years.

Book preview

The Return of Sherlock Holmes

Arthur Conan Doyle

Contents

Introduction

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

Introduction

by Otto Penzler

About one hundred years ago, Sherlock Holmes was described as one of the three most famous people who ever lived, the other two being Jesus Christ and Houdini. There are some who claim that he is a fictional character, but this notion is, of course, absurd. Every schoolchild knows what he looks like and what he does for a living, and most know many of his peculiar characteristics.

The tall, slender, hawk-nosed figure, with his deerstalker hat and Inverness cape, is instantly recognizable in every corner of the world. In addition to the superb stories describing his adventures written by his friend, roommate, and chronicler Dr. John H. Watson (with the assistance of his literary agent, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle), Holmes has been impersonated on the stage, television, and radio, and in countless motion pictures. More than twenty-five thousand books, stories, and articles have been written about him by famous authors, amateur writers, and scholars.

Sherlock (he was nearly named Sherrinford) was born on January 6, 1845, on the farmstead of Mycroft (the name of his older brother) in the North Riding of Yorkshire. He solved his first case (eventually titled The Gloria Scott) while a twenty-year-old student at Oxford. Following graduation, he became the world’s first consulting detective—a vocation he followed for twenty-three years.

In January 1881 he was looking for someone to share his new quarters at 221B Baker Street and a friend introduced him to Dr. John H. Watson. Before agreeing to share the apartment, the two men aired their respective shortcomings. Holmes confessed, I get in the dumps at times, and don’t open my mouth for days on end. He also smokes a vile shag tobacco and conducts experiments with loathsome-smelling chemicals. And he failed to mention an affection for cocaine. Although he ruefully noted his fondness for scratching away at the violin while in contemplation, he proved to be a virtuoso who could calm his roommate’s raw nerves with a melodious air.

Watson’s admitted faults include the keeping of a bull pup, a strong objection to arguments because his nerves cannot stand them, a penchant for arising from bed at all sorts of ungodly hours, and an immense capacity for laziness.

I have another set of vices when I’m well, he said, but those are the principal ones at present.

They became friends, and Watson chronicled the deeds of his illustrious roommate, often to the displeasure of Holmes, who resented the melodramatic and sensational tales. He believed that the affairs, if told at all, should be put to the public as straightforward exercises in cold logic and deductive reasoning.

Holmes possesses not only excellent deductive powers but also a giant intellect. Anatomy, chemistry, mathematics, British law, and sensational literature are but a few areas of his vast sphere of knowledge, although he is admittedly not well versed in such subjects as astronomy, philosophy, and politics. He has published several distinguished works on erudite subjects: Upon the Distinction between the Ashes of the Various Tobaccos; A Study of the Influence of a Trade upon the Form of the Hand; Upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus; A Study of the Chaldean Roots in the Ancient Cornish Language; and, his magnum opus, The Practical Handbook in Bee Culture, with Some Observations upon the Segregation of the Queen. His four-volume The Whole Art of Detection has not yet been published. When he needs information that his brain has not retained, he refers to a small, carefully selected library of reference works and a series of commonplace books. Since Holmes cares only about facts that aid his work, he ignores whatever he considers superfluous. He explains his theory of education thus: I consider that a man’s brain originally is like an empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes across, so that the knowledge which might be useful to him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with a lot of other things, so that he has a difficulty in laying his hands upon it.…It is a mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to any extent. Depend upon it there comes a time when for every addition of knowledge you forget something that you knew before.

An athletic body complements Holmes’s outstanding intelligence. He seems even taller than his six feet because he is extremely thin. His narrow, hooked nose and sharp, piercing eyes give him a hawklike appearance. He often astonished Watson with displays of strength and agility; he is a superb boxer, fencer, and singlestick player. He needed all his strength when he met his nemesis, the ultimate arch-criminal Professor James Moriarty, in a struggle at the edge of the Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland. The evenly matched adversaries, locked in battle, fell over the cliff; both were reported to be dead. All England mourned the passing of its great keeper of the law, but in 1894, after being missing for three years, Holmes returned. He had not been killed in the fall, after all, but had seized a good opportunity to fool his many enemies in the underworld. He had taken over the identity of a Danish explorer, Sigerson, and traveled to many parts of the world, including New Jersey, where he is believed to have had an affair with Irene Adler (who will always be the woman to Holmes), and to Tibet, where he learned the secret of long life from the Dalai Lama.

When Miss Adler (the famous and beautiful opera singer Holmes first meets in A Scandal in Bohemia) died in 1903, he retired to keep bees on the southern slopes of the Sussex Downs with his old housekeeper, Mrs. Martha Hudson. He came out of retirement briefly before World War I, but his life since then has been quiet.

Holmes has outlived the people who have participated at various times in his adventures. In addition to Mycroft, Watson, Moriarty, Irene Adler, and Mrs. Hudson, the best-known auxiliary personalities in the stories include Billy the page boy, who occasionally announces visitors to 221B; Mary Morstan, who becomes Mrs. Watson; the Baker Street Irregulars, street urchins led by Wiggins, who scramble after information for Holmes’s coins; Lestrade, an inept Scotland Yard inspector; Stanley Hopkins, a Scotland Yard man of greater ability; Gregson, the smartest of the Scotland Yarders according to Holmes; and Colonel Sebastian Moran, the second most dangerous man in London.

The first story written about Sherlock Holmes, A Study in Scarlet, originally appeared in Beeton’s Christmas Annual for 1887 and subsequently was published in book form in London by Ward, Lock & Company in 1888; the first American edition was published by J. B. Lippincott & Company in 1890. Holmes is called to assist Scotland Yard on what Inspector Tobias Gregson calls a bad business during the night at 3, Lauriston Gardens. An American, Enoch J. Drebber, has been murdered, and Yard men can point to only a single clue, the word Rache scrawled on the wall in blood. They believe it to be the first letters of a woman’s name, Rachel, but Holmes suggests that it is the German word for revenge. Soon, the dead man’s private secretary, Stangerson, is also found murdered; the same word is written in blood nearby. A long middle section of this novel, dealing with Mormons, is an unusual flashback.

The Sign of the Four first appeared simultaneously in the English and American editions of Lippincott’s Magazine for February 1890. Spencer Blacket published the first English book edition in the same year; P. F. Collier published the first American book edition in 1891. Calling at 221B Baker Street for help is Mary Morstan, a fetching young lady by whom Watson is totally charmed; ultimately, he marries her. She is the daughter of a captain in the Indian Army who mysteriously disappeared ten years earlier and has never been heard from again. Four years after the disappearance, Miss Morstan received an anonymous gift, a huge, lustrous pearl, and got another like it each year thereafter. Holmes and Watson accompany her to a tryst with the eccentric Thaddeus Sholto, twin brother of Bartholomew Sholto and the son of a major who was Captain Morstan’s only friend in London. Holmes sets out to find a fabulous treasure and is soon involved with the strange Jonathan Small and Tonga.

A Scandal in Bohemia first appeared in the Strand Magazine in July 1891; its first book appearance was in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1892). The first published short story in which Holmes appears features the detective in an uncharacteristic battle of wits with a lady, and with no real crime to solve. The king of Bohemia has had a rather indiscreet affair with Irene Adler, who threatens to create an international scandal when he attempts to discard her and marry a noblewoman. Holmes is hired to obtain possession of a certain unfortunate photograph before it can be sent to the would-be bride’s royal family. Holmes is outwitted, and he never stops loving Irene for fooling him.

In The Hound of the Baskervilles (1902), Sir Charles Baskerville, of Baskerville Hall, Dartmoor, Devon, has been found dead. There are no signs of violence at the scene, but his face is incredibly distorted with terror. Dr. James Mortimer enlists the aid of Holmes to protect the young heir to the estate, Sir Henry Baskerville. Watson goes to the grim moor to keep an eye on Sir Henry but is warned to return to London by a neighbor, Beryl Stapleton, the lovely sister of a local naturalist, who hears a blood-chilling moan at the edge of the great Grimpen Mire and identifies it as the legendary Hound of the Baskervilles, calling for its prey.

The original stories about Holmes number sixty; more than that number have been written by other authors, however. Even Conan Doyle wrote a parody of the characters, How Watson Learned the Trick, first published in The Book of the Queen’s Dolls’ House in 1924. The Seven-Per-Cent Solution (1974) by Nicholas Meyer was a longtime bestseller. Among the most famous pastiches are those by H. F. Heard, whose Mr. Mycroft is a pseudonymous Holmes; the tales of August Derleth, whose Solar Pons is the Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street; and The Unique Hamlet (1920) by Vincent Starrett, in which the great detective appears under his true name.

Other names (and guises) under which Holmes has appeared are Herlock Sholmes and Holmlock Shears (in Maurice LeBlanc’s The Exploits of Arsène Lupin, 1907, and The Fair-haired Lady, 1909); Picklock Holes (in R. C. Lehmann’s The Adventures of Picklock Holes, 1901); Shylock Homes (in John Kendrick Bangs’s series of short stories in American newspapers in 1903, reprinted as Shylock Homes: His Posthumous Memoirs, 1973; Bangs also wrote many parodies of Holmes using the detective’s real name, as in The Pursuit of the House-Boat, 1897; The Enchanted Type-Writer, 1899; and R. Holmes & Co., 1906, in which the hero is the son of Sherlock Holmes and the grandson of A. J. Raffles); Shamrock Jolnes (by O. Henry in two stories in Sixes and Sevens, 1911); Hemlock Jones (by Bret Harte in The Stolen Cigar-Case in Condensed Novels: Second Series, 1902); and Schlock Homes in many stories by Robert L. Fish.

Today, of course, Holmes continues to be a multimedia superstar, appearing in two internationally successful films starring Robert Downey Jr. as Holmes; the BBC television series Sherlock starring Benedict Cumberbatch; and Elementary, the wildly popular CBS series starring Jonny Lee Miller as Holmes and Lucy Liu as Dr. Watson.

THE ADVENTURE OF THE EMPTY HOUSE

IT WAS IN THE spring of the year 1894 that all London was interested, and the fashionable world dismayed, by the murder of the Honourable Ronald Adair under most unusual and inexplicable circumstances. The public has already learned those particulars of the crime which came out in the police investigation, but a good deal was suppressed upon that occasion, since the case for the prosecution was so overwhelmingly strong that it was not necessary to bring forward all the facts. Only now, at the end of nearly ten years, am I allowed to supply those missing links which make up the whole of that remarkable chain. The crime was of interest in itself, but that interest was as nothing to me compared to the inconceivable sequel, which afforded me the greatest shock and surprise of any event in my adventurous life. Even now, after this long interval, I find myself thrilling as I think of it, and feeling once more that sudden flood of joy, amazement, and incredulity which utterly submerged my mind. Let me say to that public, which has shown some interest in those glimpses which I have occasionally given them of the thoughts and actions of a very remarkable man, that they are not to blame me if I have not shared my knowledge with them, for I should have considered it my first duty to do so, had I not been barred by a positive prohibition from his own lips, which was only withdrawn upon the third of last month.

It can be imagined that my close intimacy with Sherlock Holmes had interested me deeply in crime, and that after his disappearance I never failed to read with care the various problems which came before the public. And I even attempted, more than once, for my own private satisfaction, to employ his methods in their solution, though with indifferent success. There was none, however, which appealed to me like this tragedy of Ronald Adair. As I read the evidence at the inquest, which led up to a verdict of willful murder against some person or persons unknown, I realized more clearly than I had ever done the loss which the community had sustained by the death of Sherlock Holmes. There were points about this strange business which would, I was sure, have specially appealed to him, and the efforts of the police would have been supplemented, or more probably anticipated, by the trained observation and the alert mind of the first criminal agent in Europe. All day, as I drove upon my round, I turned over the case in my mind and found no explanation which appeared to me to be adequate. At the risk of telling a twice-told tale, I will recapitulate the facts as they were known to the public at the conclusion of the inquest.

The Honourable Ronald Adair was the second son of the Earl of Maynooth, at that time governor of one of the Australian colonies. Adair’s mother had returned from Australia to undergo the operation for cataract, and she, her son Ronald, and her daughter Hilda were living together at 427 Park Lane. The youth moved in the best society—had, so far as was known, no enemies and no particular vices. He had been engaged to Miss Edith Woodley, of Carstairs, but the engagement had been broken off by mutual consent some months before, and there was no sign that it had left any very profound feeling behind it. For the rest of the man’s life moved in a narrow and conventional circle, for his habits were quiet and his nature unemotional. Yet it was upon this easy-going young aristocrat that death came, in most strange and unexpected form, between the hours of ten and eleven-twenty on the night of March 30, 1894.

Ronald Adair was fond of cards—playing continually, but never for such stakes as would hurt him. He was a member of the Baldwin, the Cavendish, and the Bagatelle card clubs. It was shown that, after dinner on the day of his death, he had played a rubber of whist at the latter club. He had also played there in the afternoon. The evidence of those who had played with him—Mr. Murray, Sir John Hardy, and Colonel Moran—showed that the game was whist, and that there was a fairly equal fall of the cards. Adair might have lost five pounds, but not more. His fortune was a considerable one, and such a loss could not in any way affect him. He had played nearly every day at one club or other, but he was a cautious player, and usually rose a winner. It came out in evidence that, in partnership with Colonel Moran, he had actually won as much as four hundred and twenty pounds in a sitting, some weeks before, from Godfrey Milner and Lord Balmoral. So much for his recent history as it came out at the inquest.

On the evening of the crime, he returned from the club exactly at ten. His mother and sister were out spending the evening with a relation. The servant deposed that she heard him enter the front room on the second floor, generally used as his sitting-room. She had lit a fire there, and as it smoked she had opened the window. No sound was heard from the room until eleven-twenty, the hour of the return of Lady Maynooth and her daughter. Desiring to say good-night, she attempted to enter her son’s room. The door was locked on the inside, and no answer could be got to their cries and knocking. Help was obtained, and the door forced. The unfortunate young man was found lying near the table. His head had been horribly mutilated by an expanding revolver bullet, but no weapon of any sort was to be found in the room. On the table lay two banknotes for ten pounds each and seventeen pounds ten in silver and gold, the money arranged in little piles of varying amount. There were some figures also upon a sheet of paper, with the names of some club friends opposite to them, from which it was conjectured that before his death he was endeavouring to make out his losses or winnings at cards.

A minute examination of the circumstances served only to make the case more complex. In the first place, no reason could be given why the young man should have fastened the door upon the inside. There was the possibility that the murderer had done this, and had afterwards escaped by the window. The drop was at least twenty feet, however, and a bed of crocuses in full bloom lay beneath. Neither the flowers nor the earth showed any sign of having been disturbed, nor were there any marks upon the narrow strip of grass which separated the house from the road. Apparently, therefore, it was the young man himself who had fastened the door. But how did he come by his death? No one could have climbed up to the window without leaving traces. Suppose a man had fired through the window, he would indeed be a remarkable shot who could with a revolver inflict so deadly a wound. Again, Park Lane is a frequented thoroughfare; there is a cab stand within a hundred yards of the house. No one had heard a shot. And yet there was the dead man and there the revolver bullet, which had mushroomed out, as soft-nosed bullets will, and so inflicted a wound which must have caused instantaneous death. Such were the circumstances of the Park Lane Mystery, which were further complicated by entire absence of motive, since, as I have said, young Adair was not known to have any enemy, and no attempt had been made to remove the money or valuables in the room.

All day I turned these facts over in my mind, endeavouring to hit upon some theory which could reconcile them all, and to find that line of least resistance which my poor friend had declared to be the starting-point of every investigation. I confess that I made little progress. In the evening I strolled across the Park, and found myself about six o’clock at the Oxford Street end of Park Lane. A group of loafers upon the pavements, all staring up at a particular window, directed me to the house which I had come to see. A tall, thin man with coloured glasses, whom I strongly suspected of being a plain-clothes detective, was pointing out some theory of his own, while the others crowded round to listen to what he said. I got as near him as I could, but his observations seemed to me to be absurd, so I withdrew again in some disgust. As I did so I struck against an elderly, deformed man, who had been behind me, and I knocked down several books which he was carrying. I remember that as I picked them up, I observed the title of one of them, THE ORIGIN OF TREE WORSHIP, and it struck me that the fellow must be some poor bibliophile, who, either as a trade or as a hobby, was a collector of obscure volumes. I endeavoured to apologize for the accident, but it was evident that these books which I had so unfortunately maltreated were very precious objects in the eyes of their owner. With a snarl of contempt he turned upon his heel, and I saw his curved back and white side-whiskers disappear among the throng.

My observations of No. 427 Park Lane did little to clear up the problem in which I was interested. The house was separated from the street by a low wall and railing, the whole not more than five feet high. It was perfectly easy, therefore, for anyone to get into the garden, but the window was entirely inaccessible, since there was no waterpipe or anything which could help the most active man to climb it. More puzzled than ever, I retraced my steps to Kensington. I had not been in my study five minutes when the maid entered to say that a person desired to see me. To my astonishment it was none other than my strange old book collector, his sharp, wizened face peering out from a frame of white hair, and his precious volumes, a dozen of them at least, wedged under his right arm.

You’re surprised to see me, sir, said he, in a strange, croaking voice.

I acknowledged that I was.

Well, I’ve a conscience, sir, and when I chanced to see you go into this house, as I came hobbling after you, I thought to myself, I’ll just step in and see that kind gentleman, and tell him that if I was a bit gruff in my manner there was not any harm meant, and that I am much obliged to him for picking up my books.

You make too much of a trifle, said I. May I ask how you knew who I was?

Well, sir, if it isn’t too great a liberty, I am a neighbour of yours, for you’ll find my little bookshop at the corner of Church Street, and very happy to see you, I am sure. Maybe you collect yourself, sir. Here’s BRITISH BIRDS, and CATULLUS, and THE HOLY WAR—a bargain, every one of them. With five volumes you could just fill that gap on that second shelf. It looks untidy, does it not, sir?

I moved my head to look at the cabinet behind me. When I turned again, Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me across my study table. I rose to my feet, stared at him for some seconds in utter amazement, and then it appears that I must have fainted for the first and the last time in my life. Certainly a gray mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I found my 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 that his own game was up, and was only anxious to revenge himself upon me. We tottered together upon the brink of the fall. I have some knowledge, however, of baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling, which has more than once been very useful to me. I slipped through his grip, and he with a horrible scream kicked madly for a few seconds, and clawed the air with both his hands. But for all his efforts he could not get his balance, and over he went. With my face over the brink, I saw him fall for a long way. Then he struck a rock, bounded off, and splashed into the water.

I listened with amazement to this explanation, which Holmes delivered between the puffs of his cigarette.

But the tracks! I cried. I saw, with my own eyes, that two went down the path and none returned.

"It came about in this way. The instant that the Professor had disappeared, it struck me what a really extraordinarily lucky chance Fate had placed in my way. I knew that Moriarty was not the only man who had sworn my death. There were at least three others whose desire for vengeance upon me would only be increased by the death of their leader. They were all most dangerous men. One or other would certainly get me. On the other hand, if all the world was convinced that I was dead they would take liberties, these men, they would soon lay themselves open, and sooner or later I could destroy them. Then it would be time for me to announce that I was still in the land of the living. So rapidly does the brain act that I believe I had thought this all out before Professor Moriarty had reached the bottom of the Reichenbach Fall.

"I stood up and examined the rocky wall behind me. In your picturesque account of the matter, which I read with great interest some months later, you assert that the wall was sheer. That was not literally true. A few small footholds presented themselves, and there was some indication of a ledge. The cliff is so high that to climb it all was an obvious impossibility, and it was equally impossible to make my way along the wet path without leaving some tracks. I might, it is true, have reversed my boots, as I have done on similar occasions, but the sight of three sets of tracks in one direction would certainly have suggested a deception. On the whole, then, it was best that I should risk the climb. It was not a pleasant business, Watson. The fall roared beneath me. I am not a fanciful person, but I give you my word that I seemed to hear Moriarty’s voice screaming at me out of the abyss. A mistake would have been fatal. More than once, as tufts of grass came out in my hand or my foot slipped in the wet notches of the rock, I thought that I was gone. But I struggled upward, and at last I reached a ledge several feet deep and covered with soft green moss, where I could lie unseen, in the most perfect comfort. There I was stretched, when you, my dear Watson, and all your following were investigating in the most sympathetic and inefficient manner the circumstances of my death.

"At last, when you had all formed your inevitable and totally erroneous conclusions, you departed for the hotel, and I was left alone. I had imagined that I had reached the end of my adventures, but a very unexpected occurrence showed me that there were surprises still in store for me. A huge rock, falling from above, boomed past me, struck the path, and bounded over into the chasm. For an instant I thought that it was an accident, but a moment later, looking up, I saw a man’s head against the darkening sky, and another stone struck the very ledge upon which I was stretched, within a foot of my head. Of course, the meaning of this was obvious. Moriarty had not been alone. A confederate—and even that one glance had told me how dangerous a man that confederate was—had kept guard while the Professor had attacked me. From a distance, unseen by me, he had been a witness of his friend’s death and of my escape. He had waited, and then making his way round to the top of the cliff, he had endeavoured to succeed where his comrade had failed.

"I did not take long to think about it, Watson. Again I saw that grim face look over the cliff, and I knew that it was the precursor of another stone. I scrambled down on to the path. I don’t think I could have done it in cold blood. It was a hundred times more difficult than getting up. But I had no time to think of the danger, for another stone sang past me as I hung by my hands from the edge of the ledge. Halfway down I slipped, but, by the blessing of God, I landed, torn and bleeding, upon the path. I took to my heels, did ten miles over the mountains in the darkness, and a week later I found myself in Florence, with the certainty that no one in the world knew what had become of me.

"I had only one confidant—my brother Mycroft. I owe you many apologies, my dear Watson, but it was all-important that it should be thought I was dead, and it is quite certain that you would not have written so convincing an account of my unhappy end had you not yourself thought that it was true. Several times during the last three years I have taken up my pen to write to you, but always I feared lest your affectionate regard for me should tempt you to some indiscretion which would betray my secret. For that reason I turned away from you this evening when you upset my books, for I was in danger at the time, and any show of surprise and emotion upon your part might have drawn attention to my identity and led to the most deplorable and irreparable results. As to Mycroft, I had to confide in him in order to obtain the money which I needed. The course of events in London did not run so well as I had hoped, for the trial of the Moriarty gang left two of its most dangerous members, my own most vindictive enemies, at liberty. I travelled for two years in Tibet, therefore, and amused myself by

Reviews for The Return of Sherlock Holmes

[nx74defiant · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A collection of short stories.

[sasham-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This series of short stories is fun escapism. Not as sexist as the earlier stories, which is nice.

[bookworm12_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Three years after Sherlock’s death at the hands of Moriarty, Dr. Watson is shocked to discover he’s actually alive and well! He was so shocked in fact he faints for the first and only time in his life. The story that follows explains Sherlock’s absence over the past couples years and his current predicament. Some of Moriarty’s agents are trying to find and kill him and they’ll stop at nothing to do so. The clever Holmes devises a plan to not only catch his enemies, but also to solve an open case for the police at the same time. **SPOILERS**Colonel Moran is Sherlock’s pursuer in this novella. He is an admired military man with a reputation as an skilled hunter. Sherlock compares Colonel Moran (to his face) to the very tigers he hunted for so many years. It must have been salt in the wound to someone so proud of his ability to hunt. Holmes had no qualms about insulting him and making sure he understood that he was now the captured prey. Clearly the brilliant Sherlock has returned. **SPOILERS OVER**BOTTOM LINE: An excellent story and a must read for anyone who finishes The Final Problem.  

[ctpress_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is the third short story collection, and it felt like the best so far - or maybe I'm just getting more and more into this crime universe. Holmes is returning after his presumed death in the fatal encounter with Moriarty at the Reichenbach Fall (recounted in the last story of "The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes". The collection here is a feast of good stories, most of them shows Sherlock Holmes at the top of his game with his brilliant deductive powers. Oh, how Lestrade glows in the second story but guess who gets the last laughter. My favorites were "The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton" , "Abbey Grange", "The Second Stain", "Six Napoleons", "Priory School" and "The Norwood Builder".I like the variety - some scary, some intriguing, some comic - most of them just trademark Sherlock-spectacular. Again the Gothic setting of Victorian London is a sheer pleasure. Also there are trips to large estates outside London and a visit at a university. The perfect chemistry between Holmes and Watson are one of the reasons for the success of these stories. Holmes always five steps ahead of them all, Watson trying to catch up and being surprised all the time. Brilliant. In one of the stories Holmes gets engaged:“You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?""No, indeed!""You'll be interested to hear that I'm engaged.""My dear fellow! I congrat——""To Milverton's housemaid.""Good heavens, Holmes!""I wanted information, Watson.""Surely you have gone too far?""It was a most necessary step. I am a plumber with a rising business, Escott, by name.”

[benjamin.duffy · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

After growing up on Sherlock Holmes movies, Sherlock Holmes parodies, Sherlock Holmes-inspired characters and plots, and all manner of Sherlock Holmes culture references, I figured I owed it to myself to actually read a real, live Sherlock Holmes book. Otherwise, I felt like a bit of a poser, as if I was taking the name of Sherlock in vain, kind of like people who say "let's get the hell out of Dodge" without even knowing that they're quoting...(Googles furiously)...the classic 1960s-70s television series Gunsmoke.

I must say it was an interesting experience coming to these stories so late in life, as I simply kept shaking my head at how influential this stuff is. Yet it wasn't stuffy or stilted at all; the thirteen short episodes that make up this book were all brisk, readable, humorous, and fun. They have only the most tenuous continuity - they aren't even in chronological order - and the plots are very much of the cookie-cutter variety. What keeps you reading is just the drive to see who's lying and how Holmes is going to figure it out. Which, aside from an arrogant druggie protagonist, is just one more way House, M.D. robs Sherlock Holmes dry.

Definitely a worthy read, especially if you snatch it free from Project Gutenberg, as I did.

[sageness · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Another collection of variable quality, although the female characters in these stories are largely wonderful, and a handful are kickass, self-sufficient women.

Also, the canon support for a Holmes/Watson marriage is all over the place and nothing like subtle, but all in all there's relatively little of Watson in the book. He's narrating every page and he's present in all those scenes, but it seems like earlier books had more of him expressing his own self. The bits and pieces of them sniping at each other make me so fond because it's all too rare that we see that Watson is entirely able to hold his own next to Holmes, but he's self-censoring as narrator. Such interesting characterization. It makes him a great ninja of an unreliable narrator because ACD takes such pains to convince us that Watson is impeccably reliable. And yet... *g*

I wish he'd written more novels.

[ruthich · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A better collection of short stories (Puffin has published some of these stories in a collection called 'The Great Adventures of SH'. Includes one of my favourite short stories, 'The Dancing Men' and adventure based around a writing code featuring little stick men. All very much worth a read.

[anneofia · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Sherlock Holmes is timeless! The baker's dozen of Adventures that appear in this book are: The Empty House, The Norwood Builder, The Dancing Men, The Solitary Cyclist, The Priory School, Black Peter, Charles Augustus Milverton, The Six Napoleons, The Three Students, The Golden Pince-nez, The Missing Three-quarter, The Abbey Grange, and The Second Stain.

[therebelprince · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A very enjoyable collection of Holmes and Watson mysteries, although there is a decided return to the romantic/melodramatic stylings of the early novels.

After the opening story, which goes to lunatic levels to bring Holmes back (but fair enough), there are some great stories throughout. Watson's narrative voice is pitch-perfect, as is his relationship with Holmes. Beyond this, the various Scotland Yard characters are given more depth, and are able to work WITH Holmes, as opposed to just following him around and always being wrong.

As I said above, though, many of the stories seem to veer toward that very 19th century melodrama feel in their denouements, although Conan Doyle handles it quite emotionlessly, so at least it isn't protracted. And many of the stories - those featuring missing people or objects - often seem to end with the same kind of conclusion (I won't say which, but you'll notice the pattern). Still, these weren't initially published in book form, and so I don't hold vague similarities against them.

An enjoyable collection of stories. I'm two-thirds of the way through the canon already!

[lisamaria_c · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the third collection of Sherlock Holmes short stories, consisting of a baker's dozen of puzzle pieces with the Great Detective. I wouldn't recommend them as an introduction to Holmes. In the last story of the second collection, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, "The Final Problem," Doyle famously sent Holmes over Reichenbach Falls. The introduction in the edition I read relates how a boatman told Doyle that even if Holmes survived the fall over the cliff, "he was never quite the same man afterwards." I don't know if I'd go that far, but it's true that if I had to list my favorite Holmes stories ("A Scandal in Bohemia," "The Speckled Band," "The Red-Headed League", "The Blue Carbuncle," "Silver Blaze," "The Musgrave Ritual") they all come from the first two collections. The introduction also points out that many of the stories in this collection have elements recycled from earlier stories: "The Six Napoleans" recapping aspects of "The Blue Carbuncle," "The Norwood Builder" using a trick from "A Scandal in Bohemia," "The Second Stain" is reminiscent of "The Naval Treaty" and "The Solitary Cyclist" of "The Greek Interpreter."Still, reading this was a pleasure--if not so much as brilliant puzzle pieces, than just for the company of the wry Holmes and how he plays off Watson. I had to grin when Holmes whips off his disguise in "The Empty House" and Watson faints--and then at Holmes' account at how he faked his own death--observing how all of them who came with Watson came to "totally erroneous conclusions." I was intrigued by the puzzle of the stick-figure cipher in "The Dancing Men." I'm not about to forget the death by harpoon in "The Black Peter." I had to smile at Holmes ironic humor in his comments to Inspector Lestrade at the end of "Charles Augustus Milverton." And it's a great moment in "The Six Napoleons" when Lestrade says Scotland Yard is proud of Holmes. And it was touching to see the concern of the seemingly cold, logical Holmes for Watson in "The Abbey Grange." So yes, even though I'd recommend the earlier short story collections or the first three novels (especially The Hound of the Baskervilles over The Return of Sherlock Holmes, that's not to say there isn't still a lot to enjoy here.

[caitak_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Short stories are easy to read - can pick it up and just read one story before bed - does make me take more time to read.Find I prefer the stories that are mysteries/puzzles, rather than murders - liked 'The Empty House' (& the way Holmes returned), 'The Priory School' and 'The Three Students' best.Really like the picture on the cover (one of my favourites in the series).Arthur Conan Doyle seems to like to give the stories a happy ending - even when someone is caught and has to leave the country, they planned to go anyway. ^_^

[slarsoncollins · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Another fabulous novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Same characters, great new mysteries. My only problem with this book had to do with the formatting as opposed to the writing. In places, where there should have been pictures, my kindle only showed the word "graphic". It would have been nice to see the map/sketch instead of a note that there should be a picture. Other than that, brilliant!

[jguidry-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Classic Sherlock Holmes cases to show the genius of the detective and Conan Doyle's writing. The anthology starts with the case that brings Holmes back from the dead (with lots of fan urging). Then Holmes runs his natural gambit of murder, blackmail, and missing people. With most short story collections, some are good, some are not. With this collection there were no are nots" for me. I enjoyed them all. I had the added benefit of watching the TV series with Jeremy Brett. It was nice to remember how true they had stayed to the original stories. Few changes were made so I was able to picture the events clearly in my head. It made for wonderful bedtime reading.
"

[david7466 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

While all of the stories are good, the last two in the book are the best in my opinion. They feel very classically Holmes.

[lukerik-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. There are some good mysteries here. I liked The Six Napoleons best as I worked out what was going on. There's also some very fine writing; The Solitary Cyclist in particular. Check out the alliteration and the patterned variations on C, S and their combinations. My friend Ed says they're pure chance, but I don't think so.

[ladypembroke · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Took my time getting through this volume since there were so many stories, and I wanted time to appreciate them all. Reading these is fun, but I do agree with Sherlock's assessment that Watson leaves out too many details of how the cases are solved. ;) I would like more of the forensic science involved included.

[oscarwilde87_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Return of Sherlock Holmes derives its title from the fact that the famous detective was presumed dead after the fight with his nemesis Professor Moriarty at Reichenbach Falls. And Holmes has returned alright. This volume provides the reader with thirteen short stories centered around Holmes and his partner Watson. In the first of those thirteen stories, the duo hunt down a would-be assassin of Holmes so that the detective can finally return to his lodgings at 221b Baker Street. In the last story of the collection, Watson mentions that Sherlock Holmes himself was not interested in the continuation of the publication of his adventures anymore. There is also talk of Holmes planning to write down some of his stories himself to while away the time of his retirement.What I found most interesting about this volume of short stories is the fact that while the structure of Arthur Conan Doyle's detective stories is basically the same every time, it is quite astonishing how he always manages to engage the reader anew in every story. One would think that the author has to run out of material for his cases at some point so that the stories will become repetitive to a certain extent. But they just do not. To my mind, this is quite a remarkable achievement considering the sheer endless number of Sherlock Holmes stories. From a structuralist perspective each story can be described as beginning with Holmes and Watson idling at their place in Baker Street, followed by the presentation of a new case and eventually investigations of the matter and its, in Holmes' eyes pretty obvious, solution. This, however, does not lessen the literary quality of the stories. In the reading process you actually do not think about the structure as your attention is almost always immediately caught by the case at hand.The looming retirement of Sherlock Holmes is something that might have troubled readers at the time of publication of The Return of Sherlock Holmes. But as we know today, there are quite some stories to follow and Holmes will not retire for quite some time. Personally, I am happy about this since reading the stories is always enjoyable. I do already dread the point when I will have read every Sherlock Holmes story that has ever been written. But then again, there is always the option of re-reads.I know that this review does not focus too much on the content of the single stories, but as I see it this is not really necessary. I would think that readers of Sherlock Holmes would usually start with the more famous works, the novels, that is, and not with this collection of short stories. So, whoever reads this collection is probably already well acquainted with the literary figure of Sherlock Holmes. Nonetheless, it is worth mentioning that the stories in this volume do not lack in quality and are a pleasure to read.On the whole, four stars for The Return of Sherlock Holmes.

[danielstj · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

This collection of short stories did not do it for me. There seemed to be something inherent lacking in it, for I was not able to absorb myself into them as the other works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It wasn't the worst, but it definitely is not the best among his works.2 stars.

[djaquay_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Delightful stuff, loved the librivox.org free audiobook version. Not quite as engaging as the earlier stories, but still well worth the read.

[391_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Holmes has returned from Reichenbach Falls, much to the surprise of - well, everyone, considering he was thought to be dead. There are thirteen stories in this collection, short enough to be fast-paced and well-worded enough to be deeply engaging. Some of my favorite stories were the Norwood Builder (with some horror undertones; faked deaths and grotesque murders ahoy!), Charles Agustus Milverton, The Solitary Cyclist and the Second Stain. There were a few dull moments - the Adventure of the Three Students is pretty terrible, in my opinion, with a 'mystery' that is both boring and instantly solveable. But overall it is a solid collection in the Holmes canon.

[aliceanna-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Very good collection. The shorter works are by far superior to his longer ones as character development is not his forte. Short fiction complements these clever (yet not substantial) story lines.