Собака Баскервиллей
The Hound of the Baskervilles
"Weweresomedistanceoff,andthisfogmayhavedeadenedthem."
"Hefollowedthehoundtocallhimoff—ofthatyoumaybecertain. No,no,he’sgonebythistime! Butwe’llsearchthehouseandmakesure."
Thefrontdoorwasopen,sowerushedinandhurriedfromroomtoroomtotheamazementofadodderingoldmanservant,whometusinthepassage. Therewasnolightsaveinthedining-room,butHolmescaughtupthelampandleftnocornerofthehouseunexplored. Nosigncouldweseeofthemanwhomwewerechasing. Ontheupperfloor,however,oneofthebedroomdoorswaslocked.
"There’ssomeoneinhere,"criedLestrade."Icanhearamovement.Openthisdoor!"
Afaintmoaningandrustlingcamefromwithin. Holmesstruckthedoorjustoverthelockwiththeflatofhisfootanditflewopen. Pistolinhand,weallthreerushedintotheroom.
Buttherewasnosignwithinitofthatdesperateanddefiantvillainwhomweexpectedtosee. Insteadwewerefacedbyanobjectsostrangeandsounexpectedthatwestoodforamomentstaringatitinamazement.
Theroomhadbeenfashionedintoasmallmuseum, andthewallswerelinedbyanumberofglass-toppedcasesfullofthatcollectionofbutterfliesandmothstheformationofwhichhadbeentherelaxationofthiscomplexanddangerousman. Inthecentreofthisroomtherewasanuprightbeam,whichhadbeenplacedatsomeperiodasasupportfortheoldworm-eatenbaulkoftimberwhichspannedtheroof. Tothispostafigurewastied,soswathedandmuffledinthesheetswhichhadbeenusedtosecureitthatonecouldnotforthemomenttellwhetheritwasthatofamanorawoman.
