Sir Henry was at the bottom of the Tor. He had fallen, but he was not hurt. He now stood up carefully.
'What was it, Mr Holmes?' he asked. 'What was that thing in the mist?'
Holmes walked along the path, reloading his revolver with bullets. 'We are safe,' he called back. 'The dog is dead.'
I went to look. There on the path lay the largest black dog I have ever seen. Fire burned around the dog's Sir Henry was at the bottom of the Tor. He had fallen, but he was not hurt. He now stood up carefully.
'What was it, Mr Holmes?' he asked. 'What was that thing in the mist?'
Holmes walked along the path, reloading his revolver with bullets. 'We are safe,' he called back. 'The dog is dead.'
I went to look. There on the path lay the largest black dog I have ever seen. Fire burned around the dog's eyes and mouth. Blood was pouring from its head.
'Could it have killed Sir Henry?' I asked.
'It would have frightened him,' said Holmes. 'The path across the Great Grimpen Mire is narrow. If he had run in the dark, Sir Henry would have fallen into the mire and died.'
'But where did it come from?' I asked. 'And why is its head burning with fire?'
'I believe it was kept in Merripit House,' said Holmes. 'The fire is easy to explain.'
He touched the dog's head with his fingers. 'It is a special paint,' he said. 'Come. Let us find the murderer.'
We walked back to Merripit House. The door was open. Sir Henry went into the house. 'Miss Stapleton!' he shouted. 'Where is she? She did not join us for dinner.'