? ? ? ? "We were some distance off, and this fog may have deadened them."
? ? ? ? "He followed the hound to call him off -- of that you may be certain. No, no, he's gone by this time! But we'll search the house and make sure."
? ? ? ? The front door was open, so we rushed in and hurried from room to room to the amazement of a doddering old manservant, who met us in the passage. There was no light save in the dining-room, but Holmes caught up the lamp and left no corner of the house unexplored. No sign could we see of the man whom we were chasing. On the upper floor, however, one of the bedroom doors was locked.
? ? ? ? "There's someone in here," cried Lestrade. "I can hear a movement. Open this door!"
? ? ? ? A faint moaning and rustling came from within. Holmes struck the door just over the lock with the flat of his foot and it flew open. Pistol in hand, we all three rushed into the room.
? ? ? ? But there was no sign within it of that desperate and defiant villain whom we expected to see. Instead we were faced by an object so strange and so unexpected that we stood for a moment staring at it in amazement.
? ? ? ? The room had been fashioned into a small museum, and the walls were lined by a number of glass-topped cases full of that collection of butterflies and moths the formation of which had been the relaxation of this complex and dangerous man.
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