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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Собака Баскервиллей
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- Стр. 151/157
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"
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
.
In
the
centre
of
this
room
there
was
an
upright
beam
,
which
had
been
placed
at
some
period
as
a
support
for
the
old
worm-eaten
baulk
of
timber
which
spanned
the
roof
.
To
this
post
a
figure
was
tied
,
so
swathed
and
muffled
in
the
sheets
which
had
been
used
to
secure
it
that
one
could
not
for
the
moment
tell
whether
it
was
that
of
a
man
or
a
woman
.
One
towel
passed
round
the
throat
and
was
secured
at
the
back
of
the
pillar
.
Another
covered
the
lower
part
of
the
face
,
and
over
it
two
dark
eyes
--
eyes
full
of
grief
and
shame
and
a
dreadful
questioning
--
stared
back
at
us
.
In
a
minute
we
had
torn
off
the
gag
,
unswathed
the
bonds
,
and
Mrs.
Stapleton
sank
upon
the
floor
in
front
of
us
.
As
her
beautiful
head
fell
upon
her
chest
I
saw
the
clear
red
weal
of
a
whiplash
across
her
neck
.
"
The
brute
!
"
cried
Holmes
.
"
Here
,
Lestrade
,
your
brandy-bottle
!
Put
her
in
the
chair
!
She
has
fainted
from
ill-usage
and
exhaustion
.
"
She
opened
her
eyes
again
.
"
Is
he
safe
?
"
she
asked
.
"
Has
he
escaped
?
"
