came crawling round both
corners of the house and rolled slowly into one dense bank, on
which the upper floor and the roof floated like a strange ship
upon a shadowy sea. Holmes struck his hand passionately upon the
rock in front of us and stamped his feet in his impatience.
"If he isn't out in a quarter of an hour the path will be
covered. In half an hour we won't be able to see our hands in
front of us."
"Shall we move farther back upon higher ground?"
"Yes, I think it would be as well."
So as the fog-bank flowed onward we fell back before it until we
were half a mile from the house, and still that dense white sea,
with the moon silvering its upper edge, swept slowly and
inexorably on.
"We are going too far," said Holmes. "We dare not take the chance
of his being overtaken before he can reach us. At all costs we
must hold our ground where we are." He dropped on his knees and
clapped his ear to the ground. "Thank God, I think that I hear
him coming."
A sound of quick steps broke the silence of the moor. Crouching
among the stones we stared intently at the silver-tipped bank in
front of us. The steps grew louder, and through the fog, as
through a curtain, there stepped the man whom we were awaiting.
He looked round him in surprise as he emerged into the clear,
starlit night. Then he came swiftly along the path, passed close
to where we lay, and went on up the long slope behind us. As he
walked he glanced continually over either shoulder, like a man
who is ill at ease.
"Hist!" cried Holmes, and I heard the sharp click of a cocking
pistol. "Look out! It's coming!"
There was a thin, crisp, continuous patter from somewhere in the
heart of that crawling bank. The cloud was within fifty yards of
where we lay, and we glared at it, all three, uncertain what
horror was about to break from the heart of it. I was at Holmes's
elbow, and I glanced for an instant at his face. It was pale and
exultant, his eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. But
suddenly they started forward in a rigid, fixed stare, and his
lips parted in amazement. At the same instant Lestrade gave a
yell of terror and threw himself face downward upon the ground. I
sprang to my feet, my inert hand grasping my pistol, my mind
paralyzed by the dreadful shape which had sprung out upon us from
the shadows of the fog. A hound it was, an enormous coal-black
hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen. Fire
burst from its open mouth,
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