Come What May, I Am Bound To

It Is A Mistake To Confound Strangeness With Mystery. The Most Commonplace Crime Is Often The Most Mysterious Because It Presents No New Or Special Features From Which Deductions May Be Drawn. This Murder Would Have Been Infinitely More Difficult To Unravel Had The Body Of The Victim Been Simply Found Lying In The Roadway Without Any Of Those Outré And Sensational Accompaniments Which Have Rendered It Remarkable. These Strange Details, Far From Making The Case More Difficult, Have Really Had The Effect Of Making It Less So.

A Hound It Was, An Enormous Coal-black Hound, But Not Such A Hound As Mortal Eyes Have Ever Seen. Fire Burst From Its Open Mouth, Its Eyes Glowed With A Smouldering Glare, Its Muzzle And Hackles And Dewlap Were Outlined In Flickering Flame. Never In The Delirious Dream Of A Disordered Brain Could Anything More Savage, More Appalling, More Hellish Be Conceived Than That Dark Form And Savage Face Which Broke Upon Us Out Of The Wall Of Fog.

Where There Is No Imagination There Is No Horror.

Depend Upon It, There Is Nothing So Unnatural As The Commonplace.

It Is Of The Highest Importance In The Art Of Detection To Be Able To Recognise Out Of A Number Of Facts Which Are Incidental And Which Are Vital.