As if in answer to his words there rose suddenly out of the vast gloom of the moor that strange cry which I had already heard upon the borders of the great Grimpen Mire. It came with the wind through the silence of the night, a long, deep mutter, then a rising howl, and then the sad moan in which it died away. Again and again it sounded, the whole air throbbing with it, strident, wild, and menacing. The baronet caught my sleeve and his face glimmered white through the darkness.
"Good heavens, what's that, Watson
"I don't know
It died away
"Watson," said the baronet, "it was the cry of a hound
My blood ran cold in my veins
"What do they call this sound
"Who
"The folk on the country-side
"Oh, they are ignorant people
"Tell me, Watson. What do they say of it
I hesitated, but could not escape the question
"They say it is the cry of the Hound of the Baskervilles
absolute ['&bs@lu:t], seize [si:z], hesitate ['hezIteIt]
"Good heavens, what's that, Watson?"
"I don't know. It's a sound they have on the moor. I heard it once before."
It died away, and an absolute silence closed in upon us. We stood straining our ears, but nothing came.
"Watson," said the baronet, "it was the cry of a hound."
My blood ran cold in my veins, for there was a break in his voice which told of the sudden horror which had seized him.
"What do they call this sound?" he asked.
"Who?"
"The folk on the country-side."
"Oh, they are ignorant people. Why should you mind what they call it?"
"Tell me, Watson. What do they say of it?"
I hesitated, but could not escape the question.
"They say it is the cry of the Hound of the Baskervilles."
He groaned, and was silent for a few moments
"A hound it was," he said, at last
"It was hard to say whence it came
"It rose and fell with the wind
"Yes, it is."
"Well, it was up there