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Doyle, Arthur Conan

"The Hound Of The Baskervilles"

The giant hound was dead.


? ? ? ? Sir Henry lay insensible where he had fallen. We tore away his collar, and Holmes breathed a prayer of gratitude when we saw. that there was no sign of a wound and that the rescue had been in time. Already our friend's eyelids shivered and he made a feeble effort to move. Lestrade thrust his brandy-flask between the baronet's teeth, and two frightened eyes were looking up at us.


? ? ? ? "My God!" he whispered. "What was it? What, in heaven's name, was it?"


? ? ? ? "It's dead, whatever it is," said Holmes. "We've laid the family ghost once and forever."


? ? ? ? In mere size and strength it was a terrible creature which was lying stretched before us. It was not a pure bloodhound and it was not a pure mastiff; but it appeared to be a combination of the two -- gaunt, savage, and as large as a small lioness. Even now in the stillness of death, the huge jaws seemed to be dripping with a bluish flame and the small, deep-set, cruel eyes were ringed with fire. I placed my hand upon the glowing muzzle, and as I held them up my own fingers smouldered and gleamed in the darkness.


? ? ? ? "Phosphorus," I said.


? ? ? ? "A cunning preparation of it," said Holmes, sniffing at the dead animal.


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