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"
Let
Holmes
know
all
about
it
at
once
.
It
will
give
him
the
clue
for
which
he
has
been
seeking
.
I
am
much
mistaken
if
it
does
not
bring
him
down
.
"
I
went
at
once
to
my
room
and
drew
up
my
report
of
the
morning
's
conversation
for
Holmes
.
It
was
evident
to
me
that
he
had
been
very
busy
of
late
,
for
the
notes
which
I
had
from
Baker
Street
were
few
and
short
,
with
no
comments
upon
the
information
which
I
had
supplied
and
hardly
any
reference
to
my
mission
.
No
doubt
his
blackmailing
case
is
absorbing
all
his
faculties
.
And
yet
this
new
factor
must
surely
arrest
his
attention
and
renew
his
interest
.
I
wish
that
he
were
here
.
OCTOBER
17TH
.
--
All
day
to-day
the
rain
poured
down
,
rustling
on
the
ivy
and
dripping
from
the
eaves
.
I
thought
of
the
convict
out
upon
the
bleak
,
cold
,
shelterless
moor
.
Poor
devil
!
Whatever
his
crimes
,
he
has
suffered
something
to
atone
for
them
.
And
then
I
thought
of
that
other
one
--
the
face
in
the
cab
,
the
figure
against
the
moon
.
Was
he
also
out
in
that
deluged
--
the
unseen
watcher
,
the
man
of
darkness
?
In
the
evening
I
put
on
my
waterproof
and
I
walked
far
upon
the
sodden
moor
,
full
of
dark
imaginings
,
the
rain
beating
upon
my
face
and
the
wind
whistling
about
my
ears
.
God
help
those
who
wander
into
the
great
mire
now
,
for
even
the
firm
uplands
are
becoming
a
morass
.
I
found
the
black
tor
upon
which
I
had
seen
the
solitary
watcher
,
and
from
its
craggy
summit
I
looked
out
myself
across
the
melancholy
downs
.
Rain
squalls
drifted
across
their
russet
face
,
and
the
heavy
,
slate-coloured
clouds
hung
low
over
the
landscape
,
trailing
in
gray
wreaths
down
the
sides
of
the
fantastic
hills
.
In
the
distant
hollow
on
the
left
,
half
hidden
by
the
mist
,
the
two
thin
towers
of
Baskerville
Hall
rose
above
the
trees
.
They
were
the
only
signs
of
human
life
which
I
could
see
,
save
only
those
prehistoric
huts
which
lay
thickly
upon
the
slopes
of
the
hills
.
Nowhere
was
there
any
trace
of
that
lonely
man
whom
I
had
seen
on
the
same
spot
two
nights
before
.
As
I
walked
back
I
was
overtaken
by
Dr.
Mortimer
driving
in
his
dog-cart
over
a
rough
moorland
track
which
led
from
the
outlying
farmhouse
of
Foulmire
.
He
has
been
very
attentive
to
us
,
and
hardly
a
day
has
passed
that
he
has
not
called
at
the
Hall
to
see
how
we
were
getting
on
.
He
insisted
upon
my
climbing
into
his
dog-cart
,
and
he
gave
me
a
lift
homeward
.
I
found
him
much
troubled
over
the
disappearance
of
his
little
spaniel
.
It
had
wandered
on
to
the
moor
and
had
never
come
back
.
I
gave
him
such
consolation
as
I
might
,
but
I
thought
of
the
pony
on
the
Grimpen
Mire
,
and
I
do
not
fancy
that
he
will
see
his
little
dog
again
.
"
By
the
way
,
Mortimer
,
"
said
I
as
we
jolted
along
the
rough
road
,
"
I
suppose
there
are
few
people
living
within
driving
distance
of
this
whom
you
do
not
know
?
"
"
Hardly
any
,
I
think
.
"
"
Can
you
,
then
,
tell
me
the
name
of
any
woman
whose
initials
are
L.
L.
?
"
He
thought
for
a
few
minutes
.
"
No
,
"
said
he
.
"
There
are
a
few
gipsies
and
labouring
folk
for
whom
I
ca
n't
answer
,
but
among
the
farmers
or
gentry
there
is
no
one
whose
initials
are
those
.
Wait
a
bit
though
,
"
he
added
after
a
pause
.
"
There
is
Laura
Lyons
--
her
initials
are
L.
L.
--
but
she
lives
in
Coombe
Tracey
.
"
