og-girt island where he had hid his
savage ally. A huge driving-wheel and a shaft half-filled with rubbish
showed the position of an abandoned mine. Beside it were the crumbling
remains of the cottages of the miners, driven away no doubt by the foul
reek of the surrounding swamp. In one of these a staple and chain with
a quantity of gnawed bones showed where the animal had been confined.
A skeleton with a tangle of brown hair adhering to it lay among the
debris.

"A dog!" said Holmes. "By Jove, a curly-haired spaniel. Poor Mortimer
will never see his pet again. Well, I do not know that this place
contains any secret which we have not already fathomed. He could hide
his hound, but he could not hush its voice, and hence came those cries
which even in daylight were not pleasant to hear. On an emergency he
could keep the hound in the out-house at Merripit, but it was always a
risk, and it was only on the supreme day, which he regarded as the end
of all his efforts, that he dared do it. This paste in the tin is no
doubt the luminous mixture with which the creature was daubed. It was
suggested, of course, by the story of the family hell-hound, and by the
desire to frighten old Sir Charles to death. No wonder the poor devil of
a convict ran and screamed, even as our friend did, and as we ourselves
might have done, when he saw such a creature bounding through the
darkness of the moor upon his track. It was a cunning device, for, apart
from the chance of driving your victim to his death, what peasant would
venture to inquire too closely into such a creature should he get sight
of it, as many have done, upon the moor? I said it in London, Watson,
and I say it again now, that never yet have we helped to hunt down a
more dangerous man than he who is lying yonder"--he swept his long arm
towards the huge mottled expanse of green-splotched bog which stretched
away until it merged into the russet slopes of the moor.

Chapter 15. A Retrospection

It was the end of November, and Holmes and I sat, upon a raw and foggy
night, on either side of a blazing fire in our sitting-room in Baker
Street. Since the tragic upshot of our visit to Devonshire he had been
engaged in two affairs of the utmost importance, in the first of which
he had exposed the atrocious conduct of Colonel Upwood in connection
with the famous card scandal of the Nonpareil Club, while in the second
he had defended the unfortunate Mme. Montpensier from the charge