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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Sign of the Four"


The east had been gradually whitening, and we could now see some
distance in the cold gray light. The square, massive house, with
its black, empty windows and high, bare walls, towered up, sad
and forlorn, behind us. Our course led right across the grounds,
in and out among the trenches and pits with which they were
scarred and intersected. The whole place, with its scattered
dirt-heaps and ill-grown shrubs, had a blighted, ill-omened look
which harmonized with the black tragedy which hung over it.
On reaching the boundary wall Toby ran along, whining eagerly,
underneath its shadow, and stopped finally in a corner screened
by a young beech. Where the two walls joined, several bricks had
been loosened, and the crevices left were worn down and rounded
upon the lower side, as though they had frequently been used as a
ladder. Holmes clambered up, and, taking the dog from me, he
dropped it over upon the other side.
"There's the print of wooden-leg's hand," he remarked, as I
mounted up beside him. "You see the slight smudge of blood upon
the white plaster. What a lucky thing it is that we have had no
very heavy rain since yesterday! The scent will lie upon the
road in spite of their eight-and-twenty hours' start.


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