The Hound of the Baskervilles

           OneofSherlockHolmes’sdefects—if,indeed,onemaycallitadefect—wasthathewasexceedinglyloathtocommunicatehisfullplanstoanyotherpersonuntiltheinstantoftheirfulfilment. Partlyitcamenodoubtfromhisownmasterfulnature,whichlovedtodominateandsurprisethosewhowerearoundhim. Partlyalsofromhisprofessionalcaution,whichurgedhimnevertotakeanychances. Theresult,however,wasverytryingforthosewhowereactingashisagentsandassistants. Ihadoftensufferedunderit,butnevermoresothanduringthatlongdriveinthedarkness. Thegreatordealwasinfrontofus;atlastwewereabouttomakeourfinaleffort,andyetHolmeshadsaidnothing,andIcouldonlysurmisewhathiscourseofactionwouldbe. Mynervesthrilledwithanticipationwhenatlastthecoldwinduponourfacesandthedark,voidspacesoneithersideofthenarrowroadtoldmethatwewerebackuponthemooronceagain. Everystrideofthehorsesandeveryturnofthewheelswastakingusnearertooursupremeadventure. 

           Ourconversationwashamperedbythepresenceofthedriverofthehiredwagonette,sothatwewereforcedtotalkoftrivialmatterswhenournervesweretensewithemotionandanticipation. Itwasarelieftome,afterthatunnaturalrestraint,whenweatlastpassedFrankland’shouseandknewthatweweredrawingneartotheHallandtothesceneofaction. Wedidnotdriveuptothedoorbutgotdownnearthegateoftheavenue. ThewagonettewaspaidoffandorderedtoreturntoCoombeTraceyforthwith,whilewestartedtowalktoMerripitHouse. 

           "Areyouarmed,Lestrade?" 

           Thelittledetectivesmiled. 

           "AslongasIhavemytrousersIhaveahip-pocket,andaslongasIhavemyhip-pocketIhavesomethinginit."