“He’s gone for the dog!” cried Miss Hunter.

“I have my revolver,” said I.

“Better close the front door,” cried Holmes, and we all rushed down the stairs together.  We had hardly reached the hall when we heard the baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony, with a horrible worrying sound which it was dreadful to listen to.  An elderly man with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a side door.

“My God!” he cried.  “Someone has loosed the dog.  It’s not been fed for two days.  Quick, quick, or it’ll be too late!”

Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with Toller hurrying behind us.  There was the huge famished brute, its black muzzle buried in Rucastle’s throat, while he writhed and screamed upon the ground.  Running up, I blew its brains out, and it fell over with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great creases of his neck.  With much labour we separated them and carried him, living but horribly mangled, into the house.  We laid him upon the drawing-room sofa, and having dispatched the sobered Toller to bear the news to his wife, I did what I could to relieve his pain.  We were all assembled round him when the door opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room.

“Mrs. Toller!” cried Miss Hunter.

“Yes, miss.  Mr. Rucastle let me out when he came back before he went up to you.  Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn’t let me know what you were planning, for I would have told you that your pains were wasted.”

“Ha!” said Holmes, looking keenly at her.  “It is clear that Mrs. Toller knows more about this matter than anyone else.”

“Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know.”

“Then, pray, sit down, and let us hear it for there are several points on which I must confess that I am still in the dark.”

“I will soon make it clear to you,” said she; “and I’d have done so before now if I could ha’ got out from the cellar.  If there’s police-court business over this, you’ll remember that I was the one that stood your friend, and that I was Miss Alice’s friend too.

“She was never happy at home, Miss Alice wasn’t, from the time that her father married again.  She was slighted like and had no say in anything, but it never really became bad for her until after she met Mr. Fowler at a friend’s house.  As well as I could learn, Miss Alice had rights of her own by will, but she was so quiet and patient, she was, that she never said a word about them but just left everything in Mr. Rucastle’s hands.  He knew he was safe with her; but when there was a chance of a husband coming forward, who would ask for all that the law would give him, then her father thought it time to put a stop on it.  He wanted her to sign a paper, so that whether she married or not, he could use her money.  When she wouldn’t do it, he kept on worrying her until she got brain-fever, and for six weeks was at death’s door.  Then she got better at last, all worn to a shadow, and with her beautiful hair cut off; but that didn’t make no change in her young man, and he stuck to her as true as man could be.”