? ? ? ? "It rose and fell with the wind. Isn't that the direction of the great Grimpen Mire?"
? ? ? ? "Yes, it is."
? ? ? ? "Well, it was up there. Come now, Watson, didn't you think yourself that it was the cry of a hound? I am not a child. You need not fear to speak the truth."
? ? ? ? "Stapleton was with me when I heard it last. He said that it might be the calling of a strange bird."
? ? ? ? "No, no, it was a hound. My God, can there be some truth in all these stories? Is it possible that I am really in danger from so dark a cause? You don't believe it, do you, Watson?"
? ? ? ? "No, no."
? ? ? ? "And yet it was one thing to laugh about it in London, and it is another to stand out here in the darkness of the moor and to hear such a cry as that. And my uncle! There was the footprint of the hound beside him as he lay. It all fits together. I don't think that I am a coward, Watson, but that sound seemed to freeze my very blood. Feel my hand!"
? ? ? ? It was as cold as a block of marble.
? ? ? ? "You'll be all right to-morrow."
? ? ? ? "I don't think I'll get that cry out of my head. What do you advise that we do now?"
? ? ? ? "Shall we turn back?"
? ? ? ? "No, by thunder; we have come out to get our man, and we will do it.
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