his hand to his forehead and stamped the ground, cursing himself for
holding his hand and blaming me for abandoning my charge, swearing
vengeance if the worst befell.
Blindly we ran through the gloom, blundering against boulders, forcing
our way through gorse bushes, panting up hills, and rushing down slopes,
heading always in the direction whence those dreadful sounds had come.
At every rise, Holmes looked eagerly around, but the shadows were thick
upon the moor, and nothing moved upon its dreary face. A low moan fell
upon our ears, to our left.  On that side a ridge of rocks ended in a 
sheer cliff which overlooked a stone-strewn slope.  On its jagged face
was spread-eagled some dark, irregular object.  As we ran towards it the
vague outline hardened into a definite shape.  It was a prostrate man,
face downward upon the ground, the head doubled under him at a horrible
