 - it is - why, it is my neighbour, the convict!"
In feverish haste we turned the body over, and it was indeed the same
face, the beetling forehead, the sunken animal eyes, which had glared upon
me in the light of the candle from over the rock. Then I remembered how
Sir Henry had handed his old wardrobe to Barrymore, and Barrymore must
have passed it on to Selden. Boots, shirt, cap - it was all Sir Henry's.
It was clear to Holmes that the clothes had been the poor devil's death.
The hound, he said, must have been laid on from Sir Henry's boot. But
there were still some mysteries - why such a paroxysm of terror when he
knew that the hound was on his trail, and why should the hound be loose
on that very night?
We were about to carry the body to one of the huts, where we proposed to
leave it until we could communicate with the police in the morning,
