Already our friend's eyelids shivered and he made a feeble effort to move.

Lestrade thrust his brandy-flask between the baronet's teeth, and two frightened eyes were looking up at us.
"My God!" he whispered.

"What was it?
What, in heaven's name, was it ?" "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.