Rucastle expressed a delight at the look of it， which seemed quiteexaggerated in its vehemence. They were waiting for me in thedrawing-room， which is a very large room， stretching along theentire front of the house， with three long windows reaching downto the floor. A chair had been placed close to the central window，with its back turned towards it. In this I was asked to sit， andthen Mr. Rucastle， walking up and down on the other side of theroom， began to tell me a series of the funniest stories that I haveever listened to. You cannot imagine how comical he was， and Ilaughed until I was quite weary. Mrs. Rucastle， however， who hasevidently no sense of humour， never so much as smiled， but satwith her hands in her lap， and a sad， anxious look upon her face.
After an hour or so， Mr. Rucastle suddenly remarked that it wastime to commence the duties of the day， and that I might changemy dress and go to little Edward in the nursery.
“Two days later this same performance was gone through underexactly similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress， again Isat in the window， and again I laughed very heartily at the funnystories of which my employer had an immense repertoire， andwhich he told inimitably. Then he handed me a yellow-backednovel， and moving my chair a little sideways， that my own shadowmight not fall upon the page， he begged me to read aloud to him.
I read for about ten minutes， beginning in the heart of a chapter，and then suddenly， in the middle of a sentence， he ordered me tocease and to change my dress.
“You can easily imagine， Mr. Holmes， how curious I becameas to what the meaning of this extraordinary performance couldpossibly be. They were always very careful， I observed， to turn myface away from the window， so that I became consumed with thedesire to see what was going on behind my back. At first it seemedto be impossible， but I soon devised a means. My hand-mirrorhad been broken， so a happy thought seized me， and I concealed apiece of the glass in my handkerchief. On the next occasion， in themidst of my laughter， I put my handkerchief up to my eyes， andwas able with a little management to see all that there was behindme. I confess that I was disappointed. There was nothing. Atleast that was my first impression. At the second glance， however，I perceived that there was a man standing in the SouthamptonRoad， a small bearded man in a grey suit， who seemed to belooking in my direction. The road is an important highway， andthere are usually people there. This man， however， was leaningagainst the railings which bordered our field and was lookingearnestly up. I lowered my handkerchief and glanced at Mrs.
Rucastle to find her eyes fixed upon me with a most searchinggaze. She said nothing， but I am convinced that she had divinedthat I had a mirror in my hand and had seen what was behind me.
She rose at once.
“ ‘Jephro，’ said she， ‘there is an impertinent fellow upon the roadthere who stares up at Miss Hunter.’
“ ‘No friend of yours， Miss Hunter？’ he asked.
“ ‘No， I know no one in these parts.’
“ ‘Dear me！ How very impertinent！ Kindly turn round andmotion to him to go away.’
“ ‘Surely it would be better to take no notice.’
“ ‘No， no， we should have him loitering here always. Kindly turnround and wave him away like that.’
“I did as I was told， and at the same instant Mrs. Rucastle drewdown the blind. That was a week ago， and from that time I havenot sat again in the window， nor have I worn the blue dress， norseen the man in the road.”
“Pray continue，” said Holmes. “Your narrative promises to be amost interesting one.”
“You will find it rather disconnected， I fear， and there mayprove to be little relation between the different incidents of whichI speak. On the very first day that I was at the Copper Beeches，Mr. Rucastle took me to a small outhouse which stands near thekitchen door. As we approached it I heard the sharp rattling of achain， and the sound as of a large animal moving about.
“ ‘Look in here！’ said Mr. Rucastle， showing me a slit betweentwo planks. ‘Is he not a beauty？’
“I looked through and was conscious of two glowing eyes， andof a vague figure huddled up in the darkness.
“ ‘Don’t be frightened，’ said my employer， laughing at the startwhich I had given. ‘It’s only Carlo， my mastiff. I call him mine， butreally old Toller， my groom， is the only man who can do anythingwith him. We feed him once a day， and not too much then， so thathe is always as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose every night，and God help the trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. Forgoodness’ sake don’t you ever on any pretext set your foot over thethreshold at night， for it’s as much as your life is worth.’
“The warning was no idle one， for two nights later I happenedto look out of my bedroom window about two o’clock in themorning. It was a beautiful moonlight night， and the lawn in frontof the house was silvered over and almost as bright as day. I wasstanding， rapt in the peaceful beauty of the scene， when I wasaware that something was moving under the shadow of the copperbeeches. As it emerged into the moonshine I saw what it was. Itwas a giant dog， as large as a calf， tawny tinted， with hanging jowl，black muzzle， and huge projecting bones. It walked slowly acrossthe lawn and vanished into the shadow upon the other side. Thatdreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart which I do not think thatany burglar could have done.