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Chapter 11. The Man on the Tor

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    eme,oristhereatthepresentmomentsomethingmovinguponthathillside?” Itwasseveralmilesoff,butIcoulddistinctlyseeasmalldarkdotagainstthedullgreenandgrey. “Come,sir,come!”criedFrankland,rushingupstairs.“Youwillseewithyourowneyesandjudgeforyourself.” Thetelescope,aformidableinstrumentmounteduponatripod,stoodupontheflatleadsofthehouse.Franklandclappedhiseyetoitandgaveacryofsatisfaction. “Quick,Dr.Watson,quick,beforehepassesoverthehill!” Therehewas,sureenough,asmallurchinwithalittlebundleuponhisshoulder,toilingslowlyupthehill.WhenhereachedthecrestIsawtheraggeduncouthfigureoutlinedforaninstantagainstthecoldbluesky.Helookedroundhimwithafurtiveandstealthyair,asonewhodreadspursuit.Thenhevanishedoverthehill. “Well!AmIright?” “Certainly,thereisaboywhoseemstohavesomesecreterrand.” “Andwhattheerrandisevenacountyconstablecouldguess.Butnotonewordshalltheyhavefromme,andIbindyoutosecrecyalso,Dr.Watson.Notaword!Youunderstand!” “Justasyouwish.” “Theyhavetreatedmeshamefully—shamefully.WhenthefactscomeoutinFranklandv.ReginaIventuretothinkthatathrillofindignationwillrunthroughthecountry.Nothingwouldinducemetohelpthepoliceinanyway.Foralltheycareditmighthavebeenme,insteadofmyeffigy,whichtheserascalsburnedatthestake.Surelyyouarenotgoing!Youwillhelpmetoemptythedecanterinhonourofthisgreatoccasion!” ButIresistedallhissolicitationsandsucceededindissuadinghimfromhisannouncedintentionofwalkinghomewithme.Ikepttheroadaslongashiseyewasonme,andthenIstruckoffacrossthemoorandmadeforthestonyhilloverwhichtheboyhaddisappeared.Everythingwasworkinginmyfavour,andIsworethatitshouldnotbethroughlackofenergyorperseverancethatIshouldmissthechancewhichfortunehadthrowninmyway. ThesunwasalreadysinkingwhenIreachedthesummitofthehill,andthelongslopesbeneathmewereallgolden-greenononesideandgreyshadowontheother.Ahazelaylowuponthefarthestsky-line,outofwhichjuttedthefantasticshapesofBelliverandVixenTor.Overthewideexpansetherewasnosoundandnomovement.Onegreatgreybird,agullorcurlew,soaredaloftinthe
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