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.
46894 Rolling pasture lands curved upwards on either side of us, and old gabled houses peeped out from amid the thick green foliage, but behind the peaceful and sunlit country-side there rose ever, dark against the evening sky, the long, gloomy curve of the moor, broken by the jagged and sinister hills.
46895 The wagonette swung round into a side road, and we curved upwards through deep lanes worn by centuries of wheels, high banks on either side, heavy with dripping moss and fleshy harts-tongue ferns.
46896 Bronzing bracken and mottled bramble gleamed in the light of the sinking sun.
46897 Still steadily rising, we passed over a narrow granite bridge, and skirted a noisy stream, which gushed swiftly down, foaming and roaring amid the grey boulders.
46898 Both road and stream wound up through a valley dense with scrub oak and fir.
46899 At every turning Baskerville gave an exclamation of delight, looking eagerly about him and asking countless questions.
46900 To his eyes all seemed beautiful, but to me a tinge of melancholy lay upon the country-side, which bore so clearly the mark of the waning year.
46901 Yellow leaves carpeted the lanes and fluttered down upon us as we passed.