Собака Баскервіллів

           "Youknowthatthereisanothermanthen?" 

           "Yes,sir;thereisanothermanuponthemoor." 

           "Haveyouseenhim?" 

           "No,sir." 

           "Howdoyouknowofhimthen?" 

           "Seldentoldmeofhim,sir,aweekagoormore. He’sinhiding,too,buthe’snotaconvictasfarasIcanmakeout. Idon’tlikeit,Dr.Watson—Itellyoustraight,sir,thatIdon’tlikeit. "Hespokewithasuddenpassionofearnestness. 

           "Now,listentome,Barrymore! Ihavenointerestinthismatterbutthatofyourmaster. Ihavecomeherewithnoobjectexcepttohelphim. Tellme,frankly,whatitisthatyoudon’tlike." 

           Barrymorehesitatedforamoment,asifheregrettedhisoutburst,orfounditdifficulttoexpresshisownfeelingsinwords. 

           "It’sallthesegoings-on,sir,"hecriedatlast,wavinghishandtowardstherain-lashedwindowwhichfacedthemoor. "There’sfoulplaysomewhere,andthere’sblackvillainybrewing,tothatI’llswear! VerygladIshouldbe,sir,toseeSirHenryonhiswaybacktoLondonagain!" 

           "Butwhatisitthatalarmsyou?" 

           "LookatSirCharles’sdeath! Thatwasbadenough,forallthatthecoronersaid. Lookatthenoisesonthemooratnight. There’snotamanwouldcrossitaftersundownifhewaspaidforit. Lookatthisstrangerhidingoutyonder,andwatchingandwaiting!