"Holmes!" Watson cried out, breaking the spell.
The skeletal figure crashed into the detective, sending him sprawling on the floor. There was the sound of running footsteps, and a shadowy figure dashed passed them in the darkness.
"Holmes! Are you injured?"
"Watson! Get after him!" Holmes was struggling to extricate himself from the skeleton, which was clearly inanimate, "I am unhurt, I assure you!"
Watson needed no further encouragement; he took off after their mysterious assailant. He could hear the footsteps just ahead of him on the staircase. He followed and caught a glimpse of a lean, lithe figure clad entirely in black, with greasy black hair. The figure, a wiry, athletic man, was already heading for the main staircase. Watson levelled his revolver.
"I am armed!" he shouted, "Stop, or I will shoot!"
The man paid no heed, and lunged down the staircase. Watson swore, knowing that he could not shoot an unarmed man in the back. He took off again, in time to see the front door flung open. Damn, the man was fast! Watson recklessly leapt the last few steps, cursing when the impact jarred the old injury to his leg. He stumbled forwards, out through the front door – the snow was falling heavily, but he could see the man in the light cast from the windows of the house. He was heading for the stables. Watson stumbled after him, revolver in hand, and paused at the open stable door.
"Come out!" he called, warily, "There's no where for you to… ah-!"
Watson threw himself aside just in time as one of Sir Henry's prized hunters came barrelling out of the stable at a full-on gallop – the shadowy man was riding bare-back, and doing it well. Watson gritted his teeth; he could ride, and ride well… but he, too, had no time to saddle up. He made his decision, and picked the nearest horse; a high-spirited steeplechaser. Watson grabbed the horse's mane, and swung himself up awkwardly as the horse whickered and fidgeted, though did not bolt. Watson took a deep breath, made certain that he was well seated, and kicked the mare into a gallop.
"Yah!" he shouted, and they were propelled in the snowy night.
~*~