Собака Баскервиллей
The Hound of the Baskervilles
"Theblindsareup. Youknowthelieofthelandbest. Creepforwardquietlyandseewhattheyaredoing—butforheaven’ssakedon’tletthemknowthattheyarewatched!"
Itiptoeddownthepathandstoopedbehindthelowwallwhichsurroundedthestuntedorchard. CreepinginitsshadowIreachedapointwhenceIcouldlookstraightthroughtheuncurtainedwindow.
Therewereonlytwomenintheroom,SirHenryandStapleton. Theysatwiththeirprofilestowardsmeoneithersideoftheroundtable. Bothofthemweresmokingcigars,andcoffeeandwinewereinfrontofthem. Stapletonwastalkingwithanimation,butthebaronetlookedpaleanddistrait. Perhapsthethoughtofthatlonelywalkacrosstheill-omenedmoorwasweighingheavilyuponhismind.
AsIwatchedthemStapletonroseandlefttheroom,whileSirHenryfilledhisglassagainandleanedbackinhischair,puffingathiscigar. Iheardthecreakofadoorandthecrispsoundofbootsupongravel. ThestepspassedalongthepathontheothersideofthewallunderwhichIcrouched. Lookingover,Isawthenaturalistpauseatthedoorofanout-houseinthecorneroftheorchard. Akeyturnedinalock,andashepassedintherewasacuriousscufflingnoisefromwithin. Hewasonlyaminuteorsoinside,andthenIheardthekeyturnoncemoreandhepassedmeandre-enteredthehouse. Isawhimrejoinhisguest,andIcreptquietlybacktowheremycompanionswerewaitingtotellthemwhatIhadseen.
"Yousay,Watson,thattheladyisnotthere? "Holmesasked,whenIhadfinishedmyreport.
"No."
