46879 'I was a boy in my teens at the time of my father's death, and had never seen the Hall, for he lived in a little cottage on the south coast.
46880 Thence I went straight to a friend in America.
46881 I tell you it is all as new to me as it is to Dr Watson, and I'm as keen as possible to see the moor.'
46882 'Are you?
46883 Then your wish is easily granted, for there is your first sight of the moor,' said Dr Mortimer, pointing out of the carriage window.
46884 Over the green squares of the fields and the low curve of a wood there rose in the distance a grey, melancholy hill, with a strange jagged summit, dim and vague in the distance, like some fantastic landscape in a dream.
46885 Baskerville sat for a long time, his eyes fixed upon it, and I read upon his eager face how much it meant to him, this first sight of that strange spot where the men of his blood had held sway so long and left their mark so deep.
46886 There he sat, with his tweed suit and his American accent, in the corner of a prosaic railway-carriage, and yet as I looked at his dark and expressive face I felt more than ever how true a descendant he was of that long line of high-blooded, fiery, and masterful men.
46887 There were pride, valour, and strength in his thick brows, his sensitive nostrils, and his large hazel eyes.
46888 If on that forbidding moor a difficult and dangerous quest should lie before us, this was at least a comrade for whom one might venture to take a risk with the certainty that he would bravely share it.
46889 The train pulled up at a small wayside station, and we all descended.
46890 Outside, beyond the low, white fence, a wagonette with a pair of cobs was waiting.
46891 Our coming was evidently a great event, for station-master and porters clustered round us to carry out our luggage.
46892 It was a sweet, simple country spot, but I was surprised to observe that by the gate there stood two soldierly men in dark uniforms, who leaned upon their short rifles and glanced keenly at us as we passed.
46893 The coachman, a hard-faced, gnarled little fellow, saluted Sir Henry Baskerville, and in a few minutes we were flying swiftly down the broad, white road.