At the far end is an old tumble-down summer-house.

Half-way down is the moor-gate, where the old gentleman left his cigar-ash.

It is a white wooden gate with a latch.

Beyond it lies the wide moor.

I remembered your theory of the affair and tried to picture all that had occurred.
As the old man stood there he saw something coming across the moor, something which terrified him so that he lost his wits, and ran and ran until he died of sheer horror and exhaustion.