Собака Баскервіллів
The Stapletons of Merripit House
"It’sgone! "saidhe. "Themirehashim. Twointwodays,andmanymore,perhaps, fortheygetinthewayofgoingthereinthedryweather,andneverknowthedifferenceuntilthemirehastheminitsclutches. It’sabadplace,thegreatGrimpenMire."
"Andyousayyoucanpenetrateit?"
"Yes,thereareoneortwopathswhichaveryactivemancantake. Ihavefoundthemout."
"Butwhyshouldyouwishtogointosohorribleaplace?"
"Well,youseethehillsbeyond? Theyarereallyislandscutoffonallsidesbytheimpassablemire,whichhascrawledroundtheminthecourseofyears. Thatiswheretherareplantsandthebutterfliesare,ifyouhavethewittoreachthem."
"Ishalltrymylucksomeday."
Helookedatmewithasurprisedface.
"ForGod’ssakeputsuchanideaoutofyourmind,"saidhe. "Yourbloodwouldbeuponmyhead. Iassureyouthattherewouldnotbetheleastchanceofyourcomingbackalive. ItisonlybyrememberingcertaincomplexlandmarksthatIamabletodoit."
"Halloa! "Icried. "Whatisthat?"
Along,lowmoan,indescribablysad,sweptoverthemoor. Itfilledthewholeair,andyetitwasimpossibletosaywhenceitcame. Fromadullmurmuritswelledintoadeeproar,andthensankbackintoamelancholy,throbbingmurmuronceagain. Stapletonlookedatmewithacuriousexpressioninhisface.
