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Watson admires Holmes's courage from "summary" of The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle, Sir

In all the broad landscape there was no gleam of hope. My heart sank as I faced the two men, for I knew that I could never reach that long, low building which flanked the stone terrace. They would see me, and on the instant would guess the truth. It was Holmes's life for mine. But it was his life or mine. But it was his life or mine. I must take my chance, and if Holmes were to die, then at least I should be there to avenge him. I stole round by the garden path and by a side door reached the hall of the house. As I entered, a sallow Malay attendant had hurried up with a pipe for me and a supply of the drug, beckoning me to an empty wing of the building. It was a long and melancholy vigil, and yet brought with it something of the thrill which the hunter feels when he lies beside the water-pool, and waits for the coming of the thirsty beast of prey. What savage creature was it which might steal upon us out of the darkness? Was there no way of crushing it forever? I could not hear the sound of the sea. I rose and, leaving the Malay, entered the garden. The sun was up, and everything was clean and bright. There was a smell of flowers, and the air was full of the murmur of bees. I felt that my friend was safe, and I was filled with a strange exhilaration. I was glad, indeed, to find myself at the end of the adventure, and yet I was conscious of a certain regret that it was over. I have no doubt that it was Holmes's courage which saved my life. In that supreme crisis, he had shown that he was not merely a master of the science of detection, but a man of iron nerve and cool courage. He had faced death without a tremor, and had triumphed over all the obstacles which had been placed in his path. It was a privilege to be associated with such a man, and I felt that I owed him a debt of gratitude which I could never repay. I knew that I had been a fool to doubt him, and I determined that in the future I would trust him implicitly. Holmes had once more proved himself to be the greatest detective of all time, and I was proud to be his friend.
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    The Return of Sherlock Holmes

    Arthur Conan Doyle, Sir

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