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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Tales of Terror and Mystery
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- Стр. 48/137
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May
3
.
—
For
several
days
I
have
been
laid
up
by
the
vagaries
of
an
English
spring
,
and
during
those
days
there
have
been
developments
,
the
true
and
sinister
meaning
of
which
no
one
can
appreciate
save
myself
.
I
may
say
that
we
have
had
cloudy
and
moonless
nights
of
late
,
which
according
to
my
information
were
the
seasons
upon
which
sheep
disappeared
.
Well
,
sheep
have
disappeared
.
Two
of
Miss
Allerton
’
s
,
one
of
old
Pearson
’
s
of
the
Cat
Walk
,
and
one
of
Mrs
.
Moulton
’
s
.
Four
in
all
during
three
nights
.
No
trace
is
left
of
them
at
all
,
and
the
countryside
is
buzzing
with
rumours
of
gipsies
and
of
sheep
-
stealers
.
But
there
is
something
more
serious
than
that
.
Young
Armitage
has
disappeared
also
.
He
left
his
moorland
cottage
early
on
Wednesday
night
and
has
never
been
heard
of
since
.
He
was
an
unattached
man
,
so
there
is
less
sensation
than
would
otherwise
be
the
case
.
The
popular
explanation
is
that
he
owes
money
,
and
has
found
a
situation
in
some
other
part
of
the
country
,
whence
he
will
presently
write
for
his
belongings
.
But
I
have
grave
misgivings
.
Is
it
not
much
more
likely
that
the
recent
tragedy
of
the
sheep
has
caused
him
to
take
some
steps
which
may
have
ended
in
his
own
destruction
?
He
may
,
for
example
,
have
lain
in
wait
for
the
creature
and
been
carried
off
by
it
into
the
recesses
of
the
mountains
.
What
an
inconceivable
fate
for
a
civilized
Englishman
of
the
twentieth
century
!
And
yet
I
feel
that
it
is
possible
and
even
probable
.
But
in
that
case
,
how
far
am
I
answerable
both
for
his
death
and
for
any
other
mishap
which
may
occur
?
Surely
with
the
knowledge
I
already
possess
it
must
be
my
duty
to
see
that
something
is
done
,
or
if
necessary
to
do
it
myself
.
It
must
be
the
latter
,
for
this
morning
I
went
down
to
the
local
police
-
station
and
told
my
story
.
The
inspector
entered
it
all
in
a
large
book
and
bowed
me
out
with
commendable
gravity
,
but
I
heard
a
burst
of
laughter
before
I
had
got
down
his
garden
path
.
No
doubt
he
was
recounting
my
adventure
to
his
family
.
June
10
.
—
I
am
writing
this
,
propped
up
in
bed
,
six
weeks
after
my
last
entry
in
this
journal
.
I
have
gone
through
a
terrible
shock
both
to
mind
and
body
,
arising
from
such
an
experience
as
has
seldom
befallen
a
human
being
before
.
But
I
have
attained
my
end
.
The
danger
from
the
Terror
which
dwells
in
the
Blue
John
Gap
has
passed
never
to
return
.
Thus
much
at
least
I
,
a
broken
invalid
,
have
done
for
the
common
good
.
Let
me
now
recount
what
occurred
as
clearly
as
I
may
.
The
night
of
Friday
,
May
3rd
,
was
dark
and
cloudy
—
the
very
night
for
the
monster
to
walk
.
About
eleven
o
’
clock
I
went
from
the
farm
-
house
with
my
lantern
and
my
rifle
,
having
first
left
a
note
upon
the
table
of
my
bedroom
in
which
I
said
that
,
if
I
were
missing
,
search
should
be
made
for
me
in
the
direction
of
the
Gap
.
I
made
my
way
to
the
mouth
of
the
Roman
shaft
,
and
,
having
perched
myself
among
the
rocks
close
to
the
opening
,
I
shut
off
my
lantern
and
waited
patiently
with
my
loaded
rifle
ready
to
my
hand
.
It
was
a
melancholy
vigil
.
All
down
the
winding
valley
I
could
see
the
scattered
lights
of
the
farm
-
houses
,
and
the
church
clock
of
Chapel
-
le
-
Dale
tolling
the
hours
came
faintly
to
my
ears
.
These
tokens
of
my
fellow
-
men
served
only
to
make
my
own
position
seem
the
more
lonely
,
and
to
call
for
a
greater
effort
to
overcome
the
terror
which
tempted
me
continually
to
get
back
to
the
farm
,
and
abandon
for
ever
this
dangerous
quest
.
And
yet
there
lies
deep
in
every
man
a
rooted
self
-
respect
which
makes
it
hard
for
him
to
turn
back
from
that
which
he
has
once
undertaken
.
This
feeling
of
personal
pride
was
my
salvation
now
,
and
it
was
that
alone
which
held
me
fast
when
every
instinct
of
my
nature
was
dragging
me
away
.
I
am
glad
now
that
I
had
the
strength
.
In
spite
of
all
that
is
has
cost
me
,
my
manhood
is
at
least
above
reproach
.
Twelve
o
’
clock
struck
in
the
distant
church
,
then
one
,
then
two
.
It
was
the
darkest
hour
of
the
night
.
The
clouds
were
drifting
low
,
and
there
was
not
a
star
in
the
sky
.
An
owl
was
hooting
somewhere
among
the
rocks
,
but
no
other
sound
,
save
the
gentle
sough
of
the
wind
,
came
to
my
ears
.
And
then
suddenly
I
heard
it
!
From
far
away
down
the
tunnel
came
those
muffled
steps
,
so
soft
and
yet
so
ponderous
.
I
heard
also
the
rattle
of
stones
as
they
gave
way
under
that
giant
tread
.
They
drew
nearer
.
They
were
close
upon
me
.
I
heard
the
crashing
of
the
bushes
round
the
entrance
,
and
then
dimly
through
the
darkness
I
was
conscious
of
the
loom
of
some
enormous
shape
,
some
monstrous
inchoate
creature
,
passing
swiftly
and
very
silently
out
from
the
tunnel
.
I
was
paralysed
with
fear
and
amazement
.
Long
as
I
had
waited
,
now
that
it
had
actually
come
I
was
unprepared
for
the
shock
.
I
lay
motionless
and
breathless
,
whilst
the
great
dark
mass
whisked
by
me
and
was
swallowed
up
in
the
night
.
But
now
I
nerved
myself
for
its
return
.
No
sound
came
from
the
sleeping
countryside
to
tell
of
the
horror
which
was
loose
.
In
no
way
could
I
judge
how
far
off
it
was
,
what
it
was
doing
,
or
when
it
might
be
back
.
But
not
a
second
time
should
my
nerve
fail
me
,
not
a
second
time
should
it
pass
unchallenged
.
I
swore
it
between
my
clenched
teeth
as
I
laid
my
cocked
rifle
across
the
rock
.
And
yet
it
nearly
happened
.
There
was
no
warning
of
approach
now
as
the
creature
passed
over
the
grass
.
Suddenly
,
like
a
dark
,
drifting
shadow
,
the
huge
bulk
loomed
up
once
more
before
me
,
making
for
the
entrance
of
the
cave
.
Again
came
that
paralysis
of
volition
which
held
my
crooked
forefinger
impotent
upon
the
trigger
.
But
with
a
desperate
effort
I
shook
it
off
.
Even
as
the
brushwood
rustled
,
and
the
monstrous
beast
blended
with
the
shadow
of
the
Gap
,
I
fired
at
the
retreating
form
.
