LA CAN DE LA BASKERVILLES
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Capitol 14: La can de la Baskervilles

Chapter 14. The Hound of the Baskervilles

Un de la defetos de Sherlock Holmes – si vera on pote nomi lo un defeto – ia es ce el ia es estrema nonvolente per comunica sua intendes plen a cualce otra person asta la instante de reali los. Partal esta ia veni sin duta de sua propre natur mestrin, cual ia ama domina e surprende los ci es sirca el. Partal ance de sua cautia profesal, cual ia urje el a risca nunca la acaso. La resulta, an tal, ia es multe frustrante per los ci ia ata como sua ajentes e aidores. Me ia sufri frecuente lo, ma nunca plu ca en acel viaja longa en la oscur. La malesperia grande ia es ante nos; final, nos ia es a punto de fa nosa labora ultima, ma Holmes ia dise no cosa, e me ia pote sola imajina en cual modo el va ata. Mea nervos ia vibra espetante cuando final la venta fria sur nosa fases e la spasios oscur e vacua a cada lado de la via streta ia informa me ce nos ia reveni sur la stepe denova. Cada gami de la cavalos e cada jira de la rotas ia prosimi nos a nosa aventura suprema.

One of Sherlock Holmes’s defects – if, indeed, one may call it a defect – was that he was exceedingly loath to communicate his full plans to any other person until the instant of their fulfilment. Partly it came no doubt from his own masterful nature, which loved to dominate and surprise those who were around him. Partly also from his professional caution, which urged him never to take any chances. The result, however, was very trying for those who were acting as his agents and assistants. I had often suffered under it, but never more so than during that long drive in the darkness. The great ordeal was in front of us; at last we were about to make our final effort, and yet Holmes had said nothing, and I could only surmise what his course of action would be. My nerves thrilled with anticipation when at last the cold wind upon our faces and the dark, void spaces on either side of the narrow road told me that we were back upon the moor once again. Every stride of the horses and every turn of the wheels was taking us nearer to our supreme adventure.

Nosa conversa ia es impedida par la presentia de la gidor de la vagoneta luada, tal ce nos ia es obligada a parla sur temas trivial cuando nosa nervos ia es tensada par emosia e espeta. Lo ia es un lejeri per me, pos acel restrinje nonatural, cuando nos ia pasa ultima la casa de Frankland e ia sabe ce nos prosimi a la Cason e a la sena de la ativia. Nos no ia viaja asta la porte, ma ia desende prosima a la entra de la rueta de asede. La vagoneta ia reseta sua paia e ia es comandada a revade sin pausa a Vale Tracey, en cuando nos ia comensa pasea a Casa Merripit.

Our conversation was hampered by the presence of the driver of the hired wagonette, so that we were forced to talk of trivial matters when our nerves were tense with emotion and anticipation. It was a relief to me, after that unnatural restraint, when we at last passed Frankland’s house and knew that we were drawing near to the Hall and to the scene of action. We did not drive up to the door but got down near the gate of the avenue. The wagonette was paid off and ordered to return to Coombe Tracey forthwith, while we started to walk to Merripit House.

“Esce tu es armada, Lestrade?”

“Are you armed, Lestrade?”

La detetor peti ia surie.

The little detective smiled.

“Tra cuando me ave mea pantalon, me ave un pox de anca, e tra cuando me ave mea pox de anca, me ave alga cosa en lo.”

“As long as I have my trousers I have a hip-pocket, and as long as I have my hip-pocket I have something in it.”

“Bon! Mea ami e me es ance preparada per crises.”

“Good! My friend and I are also ready for emergencies.”

“Tu es forte secretosa sur esta caso, Sr Holmes. Cual es aora la jua?”

“You’re mighty close about this affair, Mr. Holmes. What’s the game now?”

“Un jua de embosce.”

“A waiting game.”

“Par la sielo, esta no pare un loca multe felis.” – la detetor ia dise con trema, regardetante sirca se la inclinas sombre de la colina e la lago enorme de nebla cual ia covre la Pantan Grimpen. “Me vide la luses de un casa ante nos.”

“My word, it does not seem a very cheerful place,” said the detective with a shiver, glancing round him at the gloomy slopes of the hill and at the huge lake of fog which lay over the Grimpen Mire. “I see the lights of a house ahead of us.”

“Acel es Casa Merripit e la fini de nosa viaja. Me debe solisita ce vos pasea sur ditos de pedes e no parla par plu ca xuxas.”

“That is Merripit House and the end of our journey. I must request you to walk on tiptoe and not to talk above a whisper.”

Nos ia move cauta longo la rua como si nosa destina ta es la casa, ma Holmes ia para nos cuando nos ia es a sirca dusento metres de lo.

We moved cautiously along the track as if we were bound for the house, but Holmes halted us when we were about two hundred yards from it.

“Esta va sufisi.” – el ia dise. “Esta rocas a destra formi un scermo amirable.”

“This will do,” said he. “These rocks upon the right make an admirable screen.”

“Nos va espeta asi, si?”

“We are to wait here?”

“Si, nos va fa nosa embosce peti asi. Entra a esta caveta, Lestrade. Tu ia es ja en la casa, no, Watson? Esce tu conose la locas de la salas? Cual es acel fenetras grilida a esta fini?”

“Yes, we shall make our little ambush here. Get into this hollow, Lestrade. You have been inside the house, have you not, Watson? Can you tell the position of the rooms? What are those latticed windows at this end?”

“Me pensa ce los es la fenetras de la cosina.”

“I think they are the kitchen windows.”

“E acel a ultra, cual brilia tan forte?”

“And the one beyond, which shines so brightly?”

“Acel es serta la sala de come.”

“That is certainly the dining-room.”

“La cortinas es levada. Tu conose la plu bon la posa de la loca. Rampe cuieta a ante e vide cual cosa los fa – ma par Dio no lasa ce los sabe ce los es regardada!”

“The blinds are up. You know the lie of the land best. Creep forward quietly and see what they are doing – but for heaven’s sake don’t let them know that they are watched!”

Me ia pasea sur ditos de pedes longo la via e ia acrupi pos la mur basa cual ia ensirca la bosce sucreseda de frutas. Rampente en sua ombra, me ia ateni un punto do me ia pote regarda direta tra la fenetra sin cortina.

I tiptoed down the path and stooped behind the low wall which surrounded the stunted orchard. Creeping in its shadow I reached a point whence I could look straight through the uncurtained window.

On ia ave sola du omes en la sala, Sir Henry e Stapleton. Los ia senta con sua profiles dirijeda a me a la du lados de la table ronda. Cada de los ia fumi un sigar, e cafe e vino ia es ante los. Stapleton ia es parlante en modo vivosa, ma la baroneta ia aspeta pal e distraeda. Cisa la pensa de acel pasea solitar a traversa de la stepe menasante ia presa pesosa a sua mente.

There were only two men in the room, Sir Henry and Stapleton. They sat with their profiles towards me on either side of the round table. Both of them were smoking cigars, and coffee and wine were in front of them. Stapleton was talking with animation, but the baronet looked pale and distrait. Perhaps the thought of that lonely walk across the ill-omened moor was weighing heavily upon his mind.

Con me regardante los, Stapleton ia leva se e ia sorti de la sala, en cuando Sir Henry ia pleni denova sua vitro e ia apoia a retro sur sua seja, sucante sua sigar. Me ia oia la grinse de un porte e la sona cracosa de botas sur calculos. La pasos ia pasa longo la via a la otra lado de la mur sur cual me ia acrupi. Par regarda traversante, me ia vide la naturiste pausante a la porte de un cabana en la angulo de la bosce. Un clave ia turna en un securador, e cuando el ia entra, un ruido strana e scaramuxin ia veni de interna. El ia es en la cabana tra sola sirca un minuto, e a pos me ia oia la clave turnante a ves nova, e el ia pasa me e ia reentra a la casa. Me ia vide el reuni con sua visitor, e me ia rerampe cuieta a do mea acompaniores ia espeta, per dise a los lo cual me ia vide.

As I watched them Stapleton rose and left the room, while Sir Henry filled his glass again and leaned back in his chair, puffing at his cigar. I heard the creak of a door and the crisp sound of boots upon gravel. The steps passed along the path on the other side of the wall under which I crouched. Looking over, I saw the naturalist pause at the door of an out-house in the corner of the orchard. A key turned in a lock, and as he passed in there was a curious scuffling noise from within. He was only a minute or so inside, and then I heard the key turn once more and he passed me and reentered the house. I saw him rejoin his guest, and I crept quietly back to where my companions were waiting to tell them what I had seen.

“Tu dise, Watson, ce la dama no es ala?” – Holmes ia demanda cuando me ia fini mea reporta.

“You say, Watson, that the lady is not there?” Holmes asked when I had finished my report.

“Tal.”

“No.”

“Donce do el pote es, car on ave no lus en cualce sala otra ca la cosina?”

“Where can she be, then, since there is no light in any other room except the kitchen?”

“Me no pote imajina do el es.”

“I cannot think where she is.”

Me ia dise ja ce supra la Pantan Grimpen grande, un nebla densa blanca ia pende. Lo ia flota lenta en dirije a nos e ia cumula se como un mur a acel lado de nos, basa ma pesosa e clar definida. La luna ia brilia sur lo, e lo ia aspeta como un campo grande de jelo sintilinte, con la crestas de la montetas distante portada sur sua surfas. La fas de Holmes ia es turnada a lo, e el ia murmura nonpasiente en regarda sua vaga lenta.

I have said that over the great Grimpen Mire there hung a dense, white fog. It was drifting slowly in our direction and banked itself up like a wall on that side of us, low but thick and well defined. The moon shone on it, and it looked like a great shimmering ice-field, with the heads of the distant tors as rocks borne upon its surface. Holmes’s face was turned towards it, and he muttered impatiently as he watched its sluggish drift.

“Lo move en dirije a nos, Watson.”

“It’s moving towards us, Watson.”

“Esce esta importa?”

“Is that serious?”

“Lo importa vera multe – la sola cosa sur la tera cual ta pote desorganiza mea scemas. El no va pote pospone multe plu aora. Lo es ja la ora des. Nosa susede e an sua vive depende cisa de sua sorti ante cuando la nebla va covre la via.”

“Very serious, indeed – the one thing upon earth which could have disarranged my plans. He can’t be very long, now. It is already ten o’clock. Our success and even his life may depend upon his coming out before the fog is over the path.”

La note ia es clar e bela supra nos. La stelas ia brilia fria e forte, e un duiluna ia bani la sena intera en un lus suave e nonserta. Ante nos ia es la masa oscur de la casa, de cual sua teto sierin e ximines erijeda ia es dur contornida contra la sielo de puntos arjento. Bandetas larga de lus oro de la fenetras plu basa ia estende tra la bosce e la stepe. Un de los ia es subita estinguida. La servores ia parti de la cosina. Sola la lampa ia resta en la sala de come do la du omes, la ospitor omisidal e la ospitada nonconsensa, ia conversa ancora con sigar en mano.

The night was clear and fine above us. The stars shone cold and bright, while a half-moon bathed the whole scene in a soft, uncertain light. Before us lay the dark bulk of the house, its serrated roof and bristling chimneys hard outlined against the silver-spangled sky. Broad bars of golden light from the lower windows stretched across the orchard and the moor. One of them was suddenly shut off. The servants had left the kitchen. There only remained the lamp in the dining-room where the two men, the murderous host and the unconscious guest, still chatted over their cigars.

A cada minuto, acel plano de lana blanca cual ia covre un dui de la stepe ia vaga sempre plu prosima a la casa. Ja la filos magra prima de lo ia risi a traversa de la cuadro oro de la fenetra luminada. La mur plu distante de la bosce ia es ja nonvidable, e la arbores ia protende de un spiral de vapor blanca. An cuando nos ia regarda lo, la anelos de nebla ia veni rampente ultra ambos angulos de la casa e ia rola lenta per deveni un cumula densa sur cual la nivel alta e la teto ia flota como un barcon strana sur un mar ombrosa. Holmes ia colpa pasionosa par sua mano la roca ante nos e ia piafa sua pedes en sua nonpasientia.

Every minute that white woolly plain which covered one-half of the moor was drifting closer and closer to the house. Already the first thin wisps of it were curling across the golden square of the lighted window. The farther wall of the orchard was already invisible, and the trees were standing out of a swirl of white vapour. As we watched it the fog-wreaths came crawling round both corners of the house and rolled slowly into one dense bank on which the upper floor and the roof floated like a strange ship upon a shadowy sea. Holmes struck his hand passionately upon the rock in front of us and stamped his feet in his impatience.

“Si el no va sorti pos min ca un cuatriora, la via va es covreda. Pos un duiora, nos no va pote vide nosa manos ante nos.”

“If he isn’t out in a quarter of an hour the path will be covered. In half an hour we won’t be able to see our hands in front of us.”

“Esce nos ta move a retro sur tereno plu alta?”

“Shall we move farther back upon higher ground?”

“Si, me opina ce lo no va es un era.”

“Yes, I think it would be as well.”

Donce, con ce la cumula de nebla ia flue avansante, nos ia retira nos ante lo asta trova nos a cuasi un cilometre de la casa, e ancora acel mar densa blanca, de cual la luna ia arjenti sua borda alta, ia continua move lenta e nonprevenable.

So as the fog-bank flowed onward we fell back before it until we were half a mile from the house, and still that dense white sea, with the moon silvering its upper edge, swept slowly and inexorably on.

“Nos vade tro distante.” – Holmes ia dise. “Ta ce nos no risca la posible ce el va es atenida ante pote ariva a nos. A tota custa, nos debe resta postida do no es.” El ia cade a sua jenos e ia puxa sua orea a la tera. “Grasias a Dio, me pare oia el prosiminte.”

“We are going too far,” said Holmes. “We dare not take the chance of his being overtaken before he can reach us. At all costs we must hold our ground where we are.” He dropped on his knees and clapped his ear to the ground. “Thank God, I think that I hear him coming.”

Un sona de pasos rapida ia rompe la silentia de la stepe. Acrupinte entre la rocas, nos ia fisa nosa regardas a la cumula de cresta arjento ante nos. La pasos ia deveni plu oiable, e tra la nebla, como si tra un cortina, la om ia pasea ci nos ia espeta. El ia regarda sirca se con surprende cuando el ia emerji en la note clar e stelosa. Pos esta, el ia veni rapida longo la via, ia pasa prosima a do nos ia reclina, e ia continua en asende la inclina longa pos nos. Paseante, el ia fa regardetas nonsesante a pos cada spala, como un om ci es ajitada.

A sound of quick steps broke the silence of the moor. Crouching among the stones we stared intently at the silver-tipped bank in front of us. The steps grew louder, and through the fog, as through a curtain, there stepped the man whom we were awaiting. He looked round him in surprise as he emerged into the clear, starlit night. Then he came swiftly along the path, passed close to where we lay, and went on up the long slope behind us. As he walked he glanced continually over either shoulder, like a man who is ill at ease.

“Xux!” – Holmes ia esclama, e me ia oia la clica neta de la leva de la martel de un pistol. “Atende! Lo veni!”

“Hist!” cried Holmes, and I heard the sharp click of a cocking pistol. “Look out! It’s coming!”

Un tape cuieta, neta e continuante ia veni de alga loca en la cor de acel cumula rampente. La nube ia es a min ca sincodes cilometres de do nos ia reclina, e nos ia grima a lo, tota tre, nonserta cual monstro es a punto de esplode de sua cor. Me ia es a la codo de Holmes, e me ia videta sua fas per un momento. Lo ia es pal e joiosa, con oios forte briliante en la lus de luna. Ma subita los ia salteta a ante en un regarda rijida e fisada, e sua labios ia separa stonada. A la mesma instante, Lestrade ia fa un cria de teror e ia lansa se a prona sur la tera. Me ia salta sur mea pedes, con mea mano inerte teninte mea pistol e mea mente paraliseda par la forma asustante cual ia emerji bondinte a nos de la ombras de la nebla. Lo ia es serta un can, un can enorme e negra como carbon, ma no un can de tipo ja videda par oios mortal. Foco ia esplode de sua boca abrida, sua oios ia luminese en un regarda ardetante, sua beco e caruncula e capeletas erijeda ia es contornida par flamas dansante. Nunca en la sonia deliriosa de un serebro desordinada on ta pote conseta cualce cosa plu savaje, plu xocante, plu enfernin ca acel forma oscur e fas savaje cual ia puxa se a nos tra la mur de nebla.

There was a thin, crisp, continuous patter from somewhere in the heart of that crawling bank. The cloud was within fifty yards of where we lay, and we glared at it, all three, uncertain what horror was about to break from the heart of it. I was at Holmes’s elbow, and I glanced for an instant at his face. It was pale and exultant, his eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. But suddenly they started forward in a rigid, fixed stare, and his lips parted in amazement. At the same instant Lestrade gave a yell of terror and threw himself face downward upon the ground. I sprang to my feet, my inert hand grasping my pistol, my mind paralyzed by the dreadful shape which had sprung out upon us from the shadows of the fog. A hound it was, an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen. Fire burst from its open mouth, its eyes glowed with a smouldering glare, its muzzle and hackles and dewlap were outlined in flickering flame. Never in the delirious dream of a disordered brain could anything more savage, more appalling, more hellish be conceived than that dark form and savage face which broke upon us out of the wall of fog.

Con saltas longa, la creada negra e enorme ia bondi longo la rua, prosima seguente la pasos de nosa ami. Nos ia es tan paraliseda par la apare ce nos ia permete ce lo pasa ante cuando nos ia regania nosa coraje. Alora Holmes e me ia spara ambos en junta, e la creada ia emete un ulula orible, mostrante ce a la min un ia colpa lo. Lo no ia pausa, an tal, ma ia bondi plu. Distante sur la via, nos ia vide Sir Henry regardante a retro, con fas blanca en la lus de luna, sua manos levada en teror, grimante sin defende a la cosa asustante cual xasa el.

With long bounds the huge black creature was leaping down the track, following hard upon the footsteps of our friend. So paralyzed were we by the apparition that we allowed him to pass before we had recovered our nerve. Then Holmes and I both fired together, and the creature gave a hideous howl, which showed that one at least had hit him. He did not pause, however, but bounded onward. Far away on the path we saw Sir Henry looking back, his face white in the moonlight, his hands raised in horror, glaring helplessly at the frightful thing which was hunting him down.

Ma acel cria de dole de la can ia ejeta tota nosa temes a la ventas. Si lo es ferable, lo es mortal, e si nos ia pote feri lo, nos ia pote mata lo. Nunca me ia vide un om corente como Holmes ia core en acel note. On judi ce me ave pedes rapida, ma el ia avansa tan ultra me como me ia avansa ultra la profesal peti. Ante nos tra nosa freta longo la rua, nos ia oia sempre plu xilias de Sir Henry e la ruji profonda de la can. Me ia ariva a tempo per vide ce la animal salta sur sua vitim, lansa el a la tera e vade a morde sua garga. Ma a la instante seguente, Holmes ia vacui sinco cambras de sua revolver a la lado de la creada. Con un ulula final de dolon e un morde malvolente a la aira, lo ia rola sur sua dorso, furiosa brandinte cuatro pedetas, ante cade flasida sur sua lado. Me ia curvi me, con respira rapida, e ia presa mea pistol a la testa asustante e sintilinte, ma presa la gatilio ia es sin valua. La can jigante ia es mor.

But that cry of pain from the hound had blown all our fears to the winds. If he was vulnerable he was mortal, and if we could wound him we could kill him. Never have I seen a man run as Holmes ran that night. I am reckoned fleet of foot, but he outpaced me as much as I outpaced the little professional. In front of us as we flew up the track we heard scream after scream from Sir Henry and the deep roar of the hound. I was in time to see the beast spring upon its victim, hurl him to the ground, and worry at his throat. But the next instant Holmes had emptied five barrels of his revolver into the creature’s flank. With a last howl of agony and a vicious snap in the air, it rolled upon its back, four feet pawing furiously, and then fell limp upon its side. I stooped, panting, and pressed my pistol to the dreadful, shimmering head, but it was useless to press the trigger. The giant hound was dead.

Sir Henry ia reclina nonconsensa do el ia cade. Nos ia aranca sua colar a via, e Holmes ia espira un prea de grasias cuando nos ia vide ce on ave no sinia de un feri e ce la salva ia aveni a bon tempo. Ja la palpebras de nosa ami ia trema e el ia fa un atenta debil per move. Lestrade ia puxa sua botela de pox entre la dentes de la baroneta, e du oios asustada ia leva sua regarda a nos.

Sir Henry lay insensible where he had fallen. We tore away his collar, and Holmes breathed a prayer of gratitude when we saw that there was no sign of a wound and that the rescue had been in time. Already our friend’s eyelids shivered and he made a feeble effort to move. Lestrade thrust his brandy-flask between the baronet’s teeth, and two frightened eyes were looking up at us.

“Mea dio!” – el ia xuxa. “Cual lo ia es? Cual, par la sielo, lo ia es?”

“My God!” he whispered. “What was it? What, in heaven’s name, was it?”

“Lo es mor, sin depende de lo cual lo es.” – Holmes ia dise. “Nos ia reposa la fantasma de la familia a un ves per sempre.”

“It’s dead, whatever it is,” said Holmes. “We’ve laid the family ghost once and forever.”

Par mera grandia e fortia, lo ia es un creada asustante cual ia reclina estendeda ante nos. Lo no ia es pur un sanumberto e lo no ia es pur un mastin; ma lo ia pare es un combina de la du – magra, savaje e tan grande como un peti leon fema. An aora en la calmia de moria, la mandibulas vasta ia pare gota un flama bluin e la peti oios cruel e profonda ia es ensircada par foco. Me ia pone mea mano sur la beco sintilinte, e cuando me ia leva los, mea propre ditos ia ardeta e brilieta en la oscur.

In mere size and strength it was a terrible creature which was lying stretched before us. It was not a pure bloodhound and it was not a pure mastiff; but it appeared to be a combination of the two – gaunt, savage, and as large as a small lioness. Even now in the stillness of death, the huge jaws seemed to be dripping with a bluish flame and the small, deep-set, cruel eyes were ringed with fire. I placed my hand upon the glowing muzzle, and as I held them up my own fingers smouldered and gleamed in the darkness.

“Fosfor.” – me ia dise.

“Phosphorus,” I said.

“Un prepara rusosa de lo.” – Holmes ia dise, ensoflante la animal mor. “On ave no odor cual ia ta interfere cisa con sua capasia de ole. Nos deta a tu un regrete profonda, Sir Henry, ce nos ia esposa tu a esta asusta. Me ia es preparada per un can, ma no per un tal creada como esta. E la nebla ia dona a nos poca tempo per aseta lo.”

“A cunning preparation of it,” said Holmes, sniffing at the dead animal. “There is no smell which might have interfered with his power of scent. We owe you a deep apology, Sir Henry, for having exposed you to this fright. I was prepared for a hound, but not for such a creature as this. And the fog gave us little time to receive him.”

“Vos ia salva mea vive.”

“You have saved my life.”

“Pos comensa par perili lo. Esce tu es sufisinte forte per sta?”

“Having first endangered it. Are you strong enough to stand?”

“Dona a me un plu pleniboca de acel coniac e me va es preparada per tota. Tal! Aora, ta ce on aida me a sta. Cual tu intende fa?”

“Give me another mouthful of that brandy and I shall be ready for anything. So! Now, if you will help me up. What do you propose to do?”

“Lasa tu asi. Tu no es capas de plu aventuras en esta note. Si tu va espeta, la un o la otra de nos va reacompania tu a la Cason.”

“To leave you here. You are not fit for further adventures tonight. If you will wait, one or other of us will go back with you to the Hall.”

El ia atenta bambola a sur sua pedes; ma el ia es ancora macabre pal e tremetante en cada membro. Nos ia aida el a un roca, do el ia senta secutente con sua fas ascondeda en sua manos.

He tried to stagger to his feet; but he was still ghastly pale and trembling in every limb. We helped him to a rock, where he sat shivering with his face buried in his hands.

“Nos debe parti de tu aora.” – Holmes ia dise. “La resta de nosa labora debe es fada, e cada momento importa. Nos ave nosa caso, e aora nos nesesa sola nosa om.”

“We must leave you now,” said Holmes. “The rest of our work must be done, and every moment is of importance. We have our case, and now we only want our man.”

“La probablia ce nos va trova el a la casa es un entre mil.” – el ia continua en cuando nos ia revade rapida longo nosa pasos sur la via. “Serta acel sparas ia informa el ce la jua es finida.”

“It’s a thousand to one against our finding him at the house,” he continued as we retraced our steps swiftly down the path. “Those shots must have told him that the game was up.”

“Nos ia es alga distante, e cisa esta nebla ia amorti los.”

“We were some distance off, and this fog may have deadened them.”

“El ia segue la can per clama lo a via – sur esta tu pote es serta. No, no, el ia parti ja! Ma nos va xerca en la casa per deveni serta.”

“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.”

La porte xef ia es abrida, donce nos ia core a en e ia freta de sala a sala, stonante un vea servor mas e bambolante ci ia encontra nos en la coredor. On ia ave no lus estra la sala de come, ma Holmes ia saisi la lampa e ia fali esplora no angulo de la casa. Nos ia vide no sinia de la om xasada par nos. A la nivel alta, an tal, la porte de un de la salas de dormi ia es clavida.

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.

“Algun es asi a en.” – Lestrade ia cria. “Me oia un move. Abri esta porte!”

“There’s someone in here,” cried Lestrade. “I can hear a movement. Open this door!”

Un jemi e xuxa debil ia veni de interna. Holmes ia colpa la porte, pico supra la securador, par la planta de sua pede e lo ia abri lampin. Con pistol en mano, tota tre de nos ia entra fretosa a la sala.

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.

Ma a en on ia ave no sinia de acel vil desperante e defiante ci nos ia espeta vide. En loca, nos ia es frontida par un ojeto tan strana e tan nonespetada ce nos ia sta tra un momento, regardante lo con stona.

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.

La sala ia es organizada como un museo peti, e la mures ia es foreda par un cuantia de caxas, con covrentes de vitro, plen de acel colie de papilios de dia e note de cual sua formi ia es la amato de esta om complicada e perilosa. En la sentro de esta sala on ia ave un faxon vertical, cual on ia pone a alga tempo como un suporta per la vea bloco de lenio comeda par vermes cual ia traversa la teto. A esta palo un figur ia es liada, tan envolveda e engolida par la telones usada per securi lo, ce on no ia pote a esta momento dise esce lo parteni a un om o un fem. Un tela ia pasa sirca la garga e ia es securida a la retro de la colona. Un otra ia covre la parte basa de la fas, e supra lo du oios oscur – oios plen de tristia e vergonia e un demandosia asustante – ia regarda nos a contra. Pos un minuto nos ia aranca la silentador a via, ia desenvolve la lias, e Sra Stapleton ia afonda sur la solo ante nos. Cuando sua testa bela ia cade sur sua peto, me ia vide la marca clar roja de un colpa de flajelo a sua colo.

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.

“La bruta!” – Holmes ia esclama. “Veni, Lestrade, tua botela de pox! Pone el sur la seja! El ia desmaia par causa de maltrata e fatiga.”

“The brute!” cried Holmes. “Here, Lestrade, your brandy-bottle! Put her in the chair! She has fainted from ill-usage and exhaustion.”

La dama ia abri sua oios denova.

She opened her eyes again.

“Esce el es secur?” – el ia demanda. “Esce el ia evade?”

“Is he safe?” she asked. “Has he escaped?”

“El no pote evade nos, seniora.”

“He cannot escape us, madam.”

“No, no, me no ia refere a mea sposo. Sir Henry? Esce el es secur?”

“No, no, I did not mean my husband. Sir Henry? Is he safe?”

“Si.”

“Yes.”

“E la can?”

“And the hound?”

“Lo es mor.”

“It is dead.”

El ia fa un suspira longa de contentia.

She gave a long sigh of satisfaction.

“Grasias a Dio! Grasias a Dio! O, esta vil! Vide como el ia trata me!” El ia xuta sua brasos a estra sua mangas, e nos ia vide con repulsa ce los ia es intera manxada par contusas. “Ma esta es zero – zero! Mea mente e alma es lo cual el ia tortura e viole. Me ia pote tolera tota, la maltrata, la solitaria, la vive enganante, tota, cuando me ia pote ancora teni la espera ce me ave sua ama, ma aora me sabe ce ance en esta me ia es sua enganada e sua util.” El ia comensa plora pasionosa en parla.

“Thank God! Thank God! Oh, this villain! See how he has treated me!” She shot her arms out from her sleeves, and we saw with horror that they were all mottled with bruises. “But this is nothing – nothing! It is my mind and soul that he has tortured and defiled. I could endure it all, ill-usage, solitude, a life of deception, everything, as long as I could still cling to the hope that I had his love, but now I know that in this also I have been his dupe and his tool.” She broke into passionate sobbing as she spoke.

“Tu ave per el no bonvole, seniora.” – Holmes ia dise. “Dise a nos, donce, do nos va trova el. Si a cualce tempo tu ia aida el en malia, aora aida nos e espia tal.”

“You bear him no good will, madam,” said Holmes. “Tell us then where we shall find him. If you have ever aided him in evil, help us now and so atone.”

“On ave sola un loca a do el ia pote fuji.” – el ia responde. “On ave un mineria vea de stanio sur un isola en la cor de la pantan. Ala es do el ia manteni sua can e ance ala el ia fa preparas afin el ta ave un refujeria. Acel es do el ta fuji.”

“There is but one place where he can have fled,” she answered. “There is an old tin mine on an island in the heart of the mire. It was there that he kept his hound and there also he had made preparations so that he might have a refuge. That is where he would fly.”

La cumula de nebla ia reposa como lana blanca contra la fenetra. Holmes ia teni la lampa a lo.

The fog-bank lay like white wool against the window. Holmes held the lamp towards it.

“Vide.” – el ia dise. “Nun ta pote trova sua via en la Pantan Grimpen a esta note.”

“See,” said he. “No one could find his way into the Grimpen Mire tonight.”

El ia rie, aplaudinte par sua manos. Sua oios e dentes ia brilia con joia ferose.

She laughed and clapped her hands. Her eyes and teeth gleamed with fierce merriment.

“Cisa el va trova sua via a en, ma nunca a estra.” – el ia esclama. “Como el pote vide la palos gidante en esta note? Nos ia planta los en junta, el e me, per indica la via tra la pantan. O, si sola me ia ta pote estrae los oji! Alora vera vos ia ta ave el su vosa controla!”

“He may find his way in, but never out,” she cried. “How can he see the guiding wands tonight? We planted them together, he and I, to mark the pathway through the mire. Oh, if I could only have plucked them out today. Then indeed you would have had him at your mercy!”

Lo ia es evidente a nos ce tota xasa va es futil asta cuando la nebla va leva. Entretempo nos ia lasa Lestrade a garda la casa cuando Holmes e me ia revade con la baroneta a Cason Baskerville. La istoria de la Stapletones no ia pote plu es retenida de el, ma el ia aseta corajosa la colpa cuando el ia oia la vera sur la fem ci el ia ama. Ma la xoca de la aventuras de la note ia frati sua nervos, e ante la matina el ia reclina deliriosa en un febre forte su la cura de Dr Mortimer. Acel du ia es destinada a viaja en junta sirca la mundo ante cuando Sir Henry va deveni denova la om sana e vivosa ci el ia es ante deveni la mestre de acel propria malfortunosa.

It was evident to us that all pursuit was in vain until the fog had lifted. Meanwhile we left Lestrade in possession of the house while Holmes and I went back with the baronet to Baskerville Hall. The story of the Stapletons could no longer be withheld from him, but he took the blow bravely when he learned the truth about the woman whom he had loved. But the shock of the night’s adventures had shattered his nerves, and before morning he lay delirious in a high fever under the care of Dr. Mortimer. The two of them were destined to travel together round the world before Sir Henry had become once more the hale, hearty man that he had been before he became master of that ill-omened estate.

E aora me veni rapida a la conclui de esta nara estracomun, en cual me ia atenta comparti con la lejor acel temes oscur e suposas neblosa cual ia ombri tan longa nosa vives e ia fini en un manera tan trajedin. A la matina pos la mori de la can, la nebla ia leva ja e nos ia es gidada par Sra Stapleton a la punto do los ia trova un via tra la pantan. Lo ia aida nos a comprende la oriblia de la vive de esta fem cuando nos ia vide la zelo e joia con cual el ia pone nos a la trasa de sua sposo. Nos ia lasa el stante sur la penisola magra de tera firma e torbosa cual ia estende diminuinte a en la pantan vasta. De la fini de lo, palos peti plantada asi e ala ia mostra do la via zigzaga de mexa a mexa de juncos entre acel cavetas de spuma verde e fangerias repulsante cual ostaculi la via per un stranjer. Canas densa e un abunda de plantas melmosa de acua ia envia un odor de putri e un vapor de miasma pesosa a nosa fases, e un paso falsa ia cade nos a plu ca un ves a profondia de coxa en la pantan oscur e tremetante, cual ia secute tra metres en ondas mol sirca nosa pedes. Sua teni ostinosa ia tira contra nosa talones paseante, e cuando nos ia afonda en lo, lo ia es como si alga mano nosiva es arancante nos a su en acel profondas osena, car tan macabre e intendente ia es la saisi par cual lo ia teni nos. Sola a un ves nos ia vide un sinia ce algun ia pasa ja longo acel via perilosa ante nos. De entre un mexa de erba cotonin par cual lo ia es levada a estra la melma, alga cosa oscur ia protende. Holmes ia afonda asta sua taie cuando el ia pasea de la via per saisi lo, e si nos no ia ta es ala per estrae el par tira, el ia ta pone nunca sua pede sur tera firma denova. El ia teni un vea bota negra en la aira. “Meyers, Toronto” ia es primida sur la cuoro interna.

And now I come rapidly to the conclusion of this singular narrative, in which I have tried to make the reader share those dark fears and vague surmises which clouded our lives so long and ended in so tragic a manner. On the morning after the death of the hound the fog had lifted and we were guided by Mrs. Stapleton to the point where they had found a pathway through the bog. It helped us to realise the horror of this woman’s life when we saw the eagerness and joy with which she laid us on her husband’s track. We left her standing upon the thin peninsula of firm, peaty soil which tapered out into the widespread bog. From the end of it a small wand planted here and there showed where the path zigzagged from tuft to tuft of rushes among those green-scummed pits and foul quagmires which barred the way to the stranger. Rank reeds and lush, slimy water-plants sent an odour of decay and a heavy miasmatic vapour onto our faces, while a false step plunged us more than once thigh-deep into the dark, quivering mire, which shook for yards in soft undulations around our feet. Its tenacious grip plucked at our heels as we walked, and when we sank into it it was as if some malignant hand was tugging us down into those obscene depths, so grim and purposeful was the clutch in which it held us. Once only we saw a trace that someone had passed that perilous way before us. From amid a tuft of cotton grass which bore it up out of the slime some dark thing was projecting. Holmes sank to his waist as he stepped from the path to seize it, and had we not been there to drag him out he could never have set his foot upon firm land again. He held an old black boot in the air. “Meyers, Toronto,” was printed on the leather inside.

“Lo merita un bani de fango.” – el ia dise. “Lo es la bota mancante de nosa ami Sir Henry.”

“It is worth a mud bath,” said he. “It is our friend Sir Henry’s missing boot.”

“Lansada ala par Stapleton en sua fuji.”

“Thrown there by Stapleton in his flight.”

“Esata. El ia reteni lo en sua mano pos usa lo per pone la can a sua trasa. El ia fuji cuando el ia sabe ce la jua es finida, ancora teninte lo. E el ia lansa lo a via en esta punto de sua fuji. Nos sabe a la min ce el ia veni secur asta asi.”

“Exactly. He retained it in his hand after using it to set the hound upon the track. He fled when he knew the game was up, still clutching it. And he hurled it away at this point of his flight. We know at least that he came so far in safety.”

Ma nos ia es nunca destinada a sabe plu ca acel, an si on ia ave multe cual nos ia pote divina. No posible ia esiste per trova impresas de pede en la pantan, car la fango levante ia suda rapida a sur e a en los, ma cuando nos ia ariva ultima a tera plu firma ultra la fangeria, tota de nos ia xerca zelosa los. Ma an no un sinia la plu pico de los ia ateni nosa oios. Si la tera ia raconta vera, alora Stapleton ia ateni nunca acel isola de refuja en dirije a cual el ia luta tra la nebla en acel note final. A alga loca en la cor de la Pantan Grimpen grande, profonda en la melma repulsante de la fangeria enorme cual ia suca el a su, esta om fria de cor cruel es enterada per sempre.

But more than that we were never destined to know, though there was much which we might surmise. There was no chance of finding footsteps in the mire, for the rising mud oozed swiftly in upon them, but as we at last reached firmer ground beyond the morass we all looked eagerly for them. But no slightest sign of them ever met our eyes. If the earth told a true story, then Stapleton never reached that island of refuge towards which he struggled through the fog upon that last night. Somewhere in the heart of the great Grimpen Mire, down in the foul slime of the huge morass which had sucked him in, this cold and cruel-hearted man is forever buried.

Nos ia trova multe trasas de el sur la isola, a media de la pantan, do el ia asconde sua aliada savaje. Un rota jigante de propulsa e un poso partal plenida par dejetadas ia mostra la situa de un mineria abandonada. A sua lado ia es la restas desintegrante de la casetas de la escavores, nondutable forsada a via par la apesta repulsante de la fangeria ensircante. En un de estas, un grapa e cadena con un cuantia de osos rodeda ia mostra do la animal ia es encluida. Un sceleto con un marania de capeletas brun aderente a lo ia reclina entre la detrito.

Many traces we found of him in the bog-girt island where he had hid his savage ally. A huge driving-wheel and a shaft half-filled with rubbish showed the position of an abandoned mine. Beside it were the crumbling remains of the cottages of the miners, driven away no doubt by the foul reek of the surrounding swamp. In one of these a staple and chain with a quantity of gnawed bones showed where the animal had been confined. A skeleton with a tangle of brown hair adhering to it lay among the débris.

“Un can!” – Holmes ia dise. “Par Jupiter santa, un spaniel de capeles risa. La povre Mortimer va vide nunca denova sua animal amada. Bon, me no crede ce esta loca conteni cualce secreta cual nos no ia penetra ja. El ia pote asconde sua can, ma el no ia pote asconde sua vose, e de asi acel crias ia veni cual an en la lus de dia no ia es plasente per oia. En un crise, el ia ta pote manteni la can en la cabana a Merripit, ma lo ia es sempre riscosa, e lo ia es sola en la dia suprema, cual el ia regarda como la fini de tota sua laboras, ce el ia osa fa lo. Esta pasta en la bote es sin duta la misca luminesente con cual la creada ia es pintida. Lo ia es sujestada, natural, par la raconta sur la can de enferno de la familia, e par la desira de mata la vea Sir Charles par teme. Lo no es stonante ce la prisonida, acel diablo povre, ia core xiliante, an como nosa ami ia fa, e como cisa nos mesma ia ta fa, cuando el ia vide un tal creada bondinte tra la oscuria de la stepe longo sua trasa. Lo ia es un metodo rusosa, car, ultra la posible de envia la vitim a sua mori, cual campanian ta osa investiga tro prosima un tal creada si el ta videta lo, como multe ia fa, sur la stepe? Me ia dise lo en London, Watson, e me dise lo denova aora, ce nunca a ante nos ia aida xasa un om plu perilosa ca el ci reposa ala.” El ia jesti par sua braso longa en dirije a la banda verde manxada de pantan cual ia estende a via asta fusa con la inclinas rojin brun de la stepe.

“A dog!” said Holmes. “By Jove, a curly-haired spaniel. Poor Mortimer will never see his pet again. Well, I do not know that this place contains any secret which we have not already fathomed. He could hide his hound, but he could not hush its voice, and hence came those cries which even in daylight were not pleasant to hear. On an emergency he could keep the hound in the out-house at Merripit, but it was always a risk, and it was only on the supreme day, which he regarded as the end of all his efforts, that he dared do it. This paste in the tin is no doubt the luminous mixture with which the creature was daubed. It was suggested, of course, by the story of the family hell-hound, and by the desire to frighten old Sir Charles to death. No wonder the poor devil of a convict ran and screamed, even as our friend did, and as we ourselves might have done, when he saw such a creature bounding through the darkness of the moor upon his track. It was a cunning device, for, apart from the chance of driving your victim to his death, what peasant would venture to inquire too closely into such a creature should he get sight of it, as many have done, upon the moor? I said it in London, Watson, and I say it again now, that never yet have we helped to hunt down a more dangerous man than he who is lying yonder” – he swept his long arm towards the huge mottled expanse of green-splotched bog which stretched away until it merged into the russet slopes of the moor.