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

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.

Phosphorus, I said.

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.

You have saved my life.

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

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?

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