Собака Баскервіллів
Death on the Moor
Thegleamofthematchwhichhestruckshoneuponhisclottedfingersandupontheghastlypoolwhichwidenedslowlyfromthecrushedskullofthevictim. Anditshoneuponsomethingelsewhichturnedourheartssickandfaintwithinus—thebodyofSirHenryBaskerville!
Therewasnochanceofeitherofusforgettingthatpeculiarruddytweedsuit—theveryonewhichhehadwornonthefirstmorningthatwehadseenhiminBakerStreet. Wecaughttheoneclearglimpseofit,andthenthematchflickeredandwentout,evenasthehopehadgoneoutofoursouls. Holmesgroaned,andhisfaceglimmeredwhitethroughthedarkness.
"Thebrute! thebrute! "Icriedwithclenchedhands. "OhHolmes,Ishallneverforgivemyselfforhavinglefthimtohisfate."
"Iammoretoblamethanyou,Watson. Inordertohavemycasewellroundedandcomplete,Ihavethrownawaythelifeofmyclient. Itisthegreatestblowwhichhasbefallenmeinmycareer. ButhowcouldIknow—howcouldlknow—thathewouldriskhislifealoneuponthemoorinthefaceofallmywarnings?"
"Thatweshouldhaveheardhisscreams—myGod,thosescreams! —andyethavebeenunabletosavehim! Whereisthisbruteofahoundwhichdrovehimtohisdeath? Itmaybelurkingamongtheserocksatthisinstant. AndStapleton,whereishe? Heshallanswerforthisdeed."
"Heshall.Iwillseetothat. Uncleandnephewhavebeenmurdered —theonefrightenedtodeathbytheverysightofabeastwhichhethoughttobesupernatural,theotherdriventohisendinhiswildflighttoescapefromit. Butnowwehavetoprovetheconnectionbetweenthemanandthebeast.
