As he walked he glanced continually over either shoulder, like a man who is ill at ease.
"Hist!" cried Holmes, and I heard the sharp click of a cocking pistol.

"Look out! It's coming!" 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.