The hound was a beast of science, not of hell. But science, Mortimer now knew, could forge monsters just as terrible as any curse.
The hound did not howl. It did not growl. It simply stood, head lowered, saliva dripping from jaws that seemed unhinged, too wide for its skull. And then it spoke. Il Mastino Dei Baskerville
Mortimer did not believe in hellhounds. But he believed in the terror he saw in young Sir Henry’s eyes, the way the heir’s hand shook as he held the yellowed family manuscript. The hound was a beast of science, not of hell