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The autograph manuscript of “The Terror of Blue John Gap” reproduced above is courtesy of Dartmouth College Library, Rauner Special Collections, MS-93: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Transcription
nights of late, which according to my information were the nights
upon which sheep disappeared. Well, sheep have ["have" is underlined] disappeared.
Two of Miss Allerton's, one of Old Pearson's of the Cat Walk, and
one of Mrs. Moulton's. Four in all, during three nights. No trace
is left of them at all, and the countryside is buzzing with rumours
of gipsies and of sheep stealers.
But there is something more serious than that. Young
Armitage has disappeared also. He left his moorland cottage early
on Wednesday night and has never been heard of since. He was
an unattached man, so there is less sensation than would
otherwise b[deleted: y / inserted: e] the case. The popular explanation is that he owes
money, and has found a situation in some other part of the
country whence he will presently write for his belongings. But I
have grave misgivings. Is it not much more likely that the
recent [deleted: destruction / inserted: tragedy] of the sheep has caused him to take some
steps which may have ended in his own destruction. He may
for example have lain await for the creature and been carried off by
it into the recesses of the mountain. What an inconceivable fate
for a civilised Englishman of the [deleted: nineteenth / inserted: twentieth] century! And yet I
feel that it is possible and even probable. But in that case how far
I am answerable both for his death and for any other mishap
which may occur. Surely with the knowledge I already possess it
[deleted: may / inserted: must] be my duty to see that something is done, or if necessary to
do it myself. It will surely be the latter for this evening I went down
to the local police station and told my story. The Inspector entered
it all in a large book and bowed me out with commendable
gravity, but I heard a burst of laughter before I had got down his
garden path. No doubt he was recounting my my adventure to his
family.
June 10th. I am writing this, propped up in bed, six weeks after my
last entry in this journal. I have gone through a terrible shock
both to mind and body, arising from such an experience as
has seldom befallen a human being before. But I have
The full story as it was printed in The Strand is available at
The Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia.
