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DATE DUE
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__ .„ Cornell University Library
PR 4622.H8 1902
The hound of the Baskervilles; another ad
3 1924 013 342 450
Cornell University
Library
The original of tliis book is in
the Cornell University Library.
There are no known copyright restrictions in
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http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013342450
I shrank back into the darkest corner, and cocked the
pistol in my pocket.
[Page iSo'i
A SPECIAL LIMITED EDITION
The Hound of
72'^Baskervilles
ANOTHER ADVENTURE OF
SHERLOCK HOLMES
By A. CONAN DOYLE
Author of "The Adv entures of
Sherlock Holmes," "The Green Flag" etc.
GROSSET £«? DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS : : NEW YORK
E.H.
CoraiGBt 1901, ifoi,
BY
A. CONAN DOYLE.
V^
■^(^ r U L ■ M|
fE^-
COmtnV IDE FKBSS, CASOIH CITY, H. T,
My Dear Robinson:
It was your account of a west country legend
which first suggested the idea of this little tale
to my mind.
For this, and for the help which you gave me
in its evolution, all thanks.
Yours most truly,
A. CoNAN Doyle.
/
A Table of the Contents
rAoa
I. Mr. Sherlock Holmes i
II. The Curse of the Baskervilles . . . . ii
III. The Problem vj
IV. Sir Henry Baskerville 41
V. Three Broken Threads 59
VI. Baskerville Hall 75
VII. The Stapletons of Merripit House ... 89
VIII. First Report of Dr. Watson no
IX. The Light Upon the Moor 121
X. Extract from the Diary of Dr. Watson . 147
XI. The Man on the Tor 162
XII. Death on the Moor 181
XIII. Fixing the Nets 199
XIV. The Hound of the Baskervilles .... 217
XV. A Retrospection 234
I
Mr. Sherlock Holmes
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES, who was
usually very late in the mornings, save up-
on those not infrequent occasions when he
was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table.
I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick
which our visitor had left behind him the night be-
fore. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-
headed, of the sort which is known as a " Penang
lawyer." Just under the head was a broad silver
band, nearly an inch across. " To James Mortimer,
M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.," was en-
graved upon it, with the d|ite " 1884." It was just
such a stick as the old-fashioned family practitioner
used to carry — dignified, solid, and reassuring.
" Well, Watson, what do you make of it? "
Holmes was sitting with his back to me, and I
had given him no sign of my occupation.
" How did you know what I was doing? I be-
lieve you have eyes in the back of your head."
" I have, at least, a well-polished silv6r-plated
coflfee-pot in front of me," said he. " But, tell me,
Watson, what do you make of our visitor's stick?
Since we have been so unfortunate as to miss him
and have no notion of his errand, this accidental
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
souvenir becomes of importance. Let me hear you
reconstruct the man by an examination of it."
" I think," said I, following as far as I could the
methods of my companion, " that Dr. Mortimer is
a successful elderly medical man, well-esteemed,
since those who know him give him this mark of
their appreciation."
" Good ! " said Holmes. " Excellent ! "
" I think also that the probability is in favour oi
his being a country practitioner who does a great
deal of his visiting on foot."
" Why so? "
" Because this stick, though originally a very
handsome one, has been so knocked about that T
can hardly imagine a town practitioner carrying it.
The thick iron ferrule is worn down, so it is evident
that he has done a great amount of walking with it."
" Perfectly sound ! " said Holmes.
" And then again, there is the ' friends of the
C.C.H.' I should guess that to be the Something
Hunt, the local hunt to whose members he has pos-
sibly given some surgical assistance, and which has
made him a small presentation in return."
" Really, Watson, you excel yourself," said
Holmes, pushing back his chair and lighting a cigar-
ette. " I am bound to say that in all the accounts
which you have been so good as to give of my own
small achievements you have habitually underrated
your own abilities. It may be that you are not
yourself luminous, but you are a conductor of light.
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES
Some people without possessing genius have a re.
markable power of stimulating it. I confess, my
dear fellow, that I am very much in your debt."
He had never said as much before, and I must
admit that his words gave me keen pleasure, for I
had often been piqued by his indifference to my ad-
miration and to the attempts which I had made to
give publicity to liis methods. I was proud too to
think that I had so far mastered his system as to
apply it in a way which earned his approval. He
now took the stick from my hands and examined it
for a few minutes with his naked eyes. Then with
an expression of interest he laid down his cigarette
and, carrying the cane to the window, he looked
over it again with a convex lens.
"Interesting, though elementary," said he, as he
returned to his favourite comer of the settee.
"There are certainly one or two indications Upon
the stick. It gives us the basis for several deduc-
tions."
" Has anything escaped me? " I asked, with some
self-importance. " I trust that there is nothing of
consequence which I have overlooked? "
" I am afraid, my dear Watson, that most of your
conclusions were erroneous. When I said that you
stiiTiulated me I meant, to be frank, that in noting
your fallacies I was occasionally guided toward* the
truth. Not that you are entirel)' wrong in this ie
stance. The man is certainly a country prac#'
*ioner. And he walks a good deal."
3
THE HOUND OF THE B A 5 K IS K V 1 1- l- B. o
" Then I was right."
" To that extent."
" But that was all."
" No, no, my dear Watson, not all — ^by no means
all. I would suggest, for example, that a presenta-
tion to a doctor is more likely to come from a
hospital than from a hunt, and that when the in-
itials ' C.C are placed before that hospital the
words ' Charing Cross ' very naturally suggest
themselves."
" You may be right."
" The probability lies in t!iat direction. And if
we take this as a working hypothesis we have a fresh
basis from which to start our construction of this
unknown visitor."
" Well, then, supposing that ' C.C.H.' does stand
for ' Charing Cross Hospital,' what further infer-
ences may we draw? "
" Do none suggest themselves? You know my
methods. Apply them! "
" I can only think of the obvious conclusion that
the man has practised in town before going to the
country."
" I think that we might venture a little farther
than this. Look at it in this light. On what occa-
sion would it be most probable that such a presenta-
tion would be made? When would his friends unite
to give him a pledge of their good will? Obviously
at the moment when Dr. Mortimer withdrew from
the service of the hospital in order to start in prac-
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES
tice for himself. We know there has been a pres-
entation. We believe there has been a change
from a town hospital to a country practice. Is it,
then, stretching our inference too far to say that the
presentation was on the occasion of the change? "
" It certainly seems probable."
" Now, you will observe that he could not have
been on the staff of the hospital, since only a man
well-established in a London practice could hold
such a position, and such a one would not drift into
the country. What was he, then? If he was in
the hospital and yet not on the staff he could only
have been a house-surgeon or a house-physician —
little more than a senior student. Anci he left five
years ago — the date is on the stick. So your grave,
middle-aged family practitioner vanishes into thin
air, my dear Watson, and there emerges a young
fellow under thirty, amiable, unambitious, absent'
minded, and the possessor of a favourite dog, which
I should describe roughly as being larger than a
terrier and smaller than a mastiflf."
I laughed incredulously as Sherlock Holmes
leaned back in his settee and blew little wavering
rings of smoke up to the ceiling.
" As to the latter part, I have no means of check-
ing you," said I, " but at least it is not difficult to
find out a few particulars about the man's age and
professional career." From my small medical shelf
Itook down the Medical Directory and turned up
the name. There were several Mortimers, but only
5
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
one who could be our visitor. I read his record
aloud.
"Mortimer, James, M.R.C.S., 1882, Grimpen,
Dartmoor, Devon. House surgeon, from 1882 to
1884, at Charing Cross Hospital. Winner of the
Jackson prize for Comparative Pathology, with es-
say entitled ' Is Disease a Reversion? ' Correspond-
ing member of the Swedish Pathological Society.
Author of ' Some Freaks of Atavism ' (Lancet,
1882). ' Do We Progress? ' (Journal oi Psychol-
ogy, March, 1883). Medical Officer for the par-
ishes of Grimpen, Thorsley, and High Barrow."
" No mention of that local hunt, Watson," said
Holmes, with a mischievous smile, " but a country
doctor, as you very astutely observed. I think that
I am fairly justified in my inferences. As to the
adjectives, I said, if I remember right, amiable, un-
ambitious, and absent-minded. It is my experience
that it is only an amiable man in this world who
receives testimonials, only an unambitious one who
abandons a London career for the country, and only
an absent-minded one who leaves his stick and not
his visiting-card after waiting an hour in your
room."
"And the dog?"
" Has been in the habit of carrying this stick be-
hind his master. Being a heavy stick the dog has
held it tightly by the middle, and the marks of his
teeth are very plainly visible. The dog's jaw, as
shown in the space between these marks, is too
6
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES
broad in my opinion for a terrier and not broad
enough for a mastiff. It may have been — yes, by
Jove, it is a curly-haired spaniel."
He had risen and paced the room as he spoke.
Now he halted in the recess of the window. There
was such a ring of conviction in his voice that I
glanced up in surprise.
" My dear fellow, how can you possibly be so
sure of that? "
" For the very simple reason that I see the dog
himself on our very door-step, and there is the ring
of its owner. Don't move, I beg you, Watson.
He is a professional brother of yours, and your pres-
ence may be of assistance to me. Now is the dra- •
matic moment of fate, Watson, when you hear a
Btep upon the stair which is walking into your life,
and you know not whether for good or ill. What
does Dr. James Mortimer, the man of science, ask
of Sherlock Holmes, the specialist in crime? Come
in!"
The appearance of our visitor was a surprise to
me, since I had expected a typical country practi-
tioner. He was a very tall, thin man, with a long
nose like a beak, which jutted out between two
keen, grey eyes, set closely together and sparkling
brightly from behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses.
He was clad in a professional but rather slovenly
fashion, for his frock-coat was dingy and his trousers
frayed. Though young, his long back was already
bowed, and he walked with a forward thrust of his
f
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
head and a general air of peering benevolence. As
he entered his eyes fell upon the stick in Holmes's
hand, and he ran towards it with an exclamation
of joy. " I am so very glad," said he. " I was not
sure whether I had left it here or in the Shipping
Office. I would not lose that stick for the world."
" A presentation, I see," said Holmes.
" Yes, sir."
" From Charing Cross Hospital? "
" From one or two friends there on the occasion
of my marriage."
" Dear, dear, that's bad! " said Holmes, shaking
his head.
Dr. Mortimer blinked through his glasses in mild
astonishment.
" Why was it bad? "
" Only that you have disarranged our little de-
ductions. Your marriage, you say? "
" Yes, sir. I married, and so left the hospital,
and with it all hopes of a consulting practice. It
was necessary to make a home of my own."
," Come, come, we are not so far wrong after all,"
said Holmes. "And now, Dr. James Morti-
mer "
" Mister, sir, Mister— a humble M.R.C.S."
"And a man of precise mind, evidently."
" A dabbler in science, Mr. Holmes, a picker up
of shells on the shores of the great unknown ocean.
! presume that it is Mr. Sherlock Holmes whom I
am addressing and not "
8
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES
•' No, this is my friend Dr. Watson."
" Glad to meet you, sir. I have heard your name
mentioned in connection with that of your friend.
You interest me very much, Mr. Holmes. I had
hardly expected so dolichocephalic a skull or such
well-marked supra-orbital development. Would
you have any objection to my running my finger
along your parietal fissure? A cast of your skull,
sir, until the original is available, would be an orna-
ment to any anthropological museum. It is not my
intention to be fulsome, but I confess that I covet
your skull."
Sherlock Holmes waved our strange visitor into
a chair. " You are an enthusiast in your line of
thought, I perceive, sir, as I am in mine," said he.
" I observe from your forefinger that you make
your own cigarettes. Have no hesitation in light-
ing one."
The man drew out paper and tobacco and twirled
the one up in the other with surprising dexterity,
He had long, quivering fingers as agile and restless
as the antennae of an insect.
Holmes was silent, but his little darting glances
showed me the interest which he took in our curious
companion.
" I presume, sir," said he at last, " that it was not
merely for the purpose of examining my skull that
you have done me the honour to call here last night
and again to-day? "
"No, sir, no; though I am happy to have had
9
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
the opportunity of doing that as well. I came to
you, Mr. Holmes, because I recognised that I am
myself an unpractical man, and because I am sud-
denly confronted with a most serious and extraor-
dinary problem. Recognising, as I do, that you are
the second highest expert in Europe "
" Indeed, sir! May I inquire who has the honour
to be the first? " asked Holmes, with some asperity.
" To the man of precisely scientific mind the work
of Monsieur Bertillon must always appeal strongly."
" Then had you not better consult him? "
" I said, sir, to the precisely scientific mind. But
as a practical man of affairs it is acknowledged that
you stand alone. I trust, sir, that I have not inad-
vertently "
" Just a little," said Holmes. " I think. Dr. Mor-
timer, you would do wisely if without more ado you
would kindly tell me plainly what the exact nature
of the problem is in which you demand my assist-
ance."
10
II
The Curse of the Baskervilles
I HAVE in my pocket a manuscript," said Dr.
James Mortimer.
" I observed it as you entered the room,"
said Holmes.
" It is an old manuscript."
" Early eighteenth century, unless it is a forgery."
" How can you say that, sir? "
" You have presented an inch or two of it to my
examination all the time that you have been talk-
ing. It would be a poor expert who could not give
the date of a document within a decade or so. You
may possibly have read my little monograph upon
the subject. I put that at 1730."
" The exact date is 1742." Dr. Mortimer drew
it from his breast-pocket. " This family paper was
committed to my care by Sir Charles Baskerville,
whose sudden and tragic death some three months
ago created so much excitement in Devonshire. I
may say that I was his personal friend as well as his
medical attendant. He was a strong-minded man,
sir, shrewd, practical, and as unimaginative as I am
myself. Yet he took this document very seriously,
and his mind was prepared for just such an end a^
did eventually overtake him."
II
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
Holmes stretched out his hand for the manuscript
and flattened it upon his knee.
" You will observe, Watson, the alternative use
of the long s and the short. It is one of several
indications which enabled me to fix the date."
I looked over his shoulder at the yellow paper
and the faded script. At the head was written:
" Baskerville Hall," and below, in large, scrawling
figures: " 1742."
" It appears to be a statement of some sort."
" Yes, it is a statement of a certain legend which
runs in the Baskerville family."
" But I understand that it is something more
modern and practical upon which you wish to con-
sult me? "
" Most modern. A most practical, pressing mat-
ter, which must be decided within twenty-four
hours. But the manuscript is short and is intimate-
ly connected with the affair. With your permission
I will read it to you."
Holmes leaned back in his chair, placed his fin-
ger-tips together, and closed his eyes, with an air
of resignation. Dr. Mortimer turned the manu-
script to the light and read in a high, crackling voice
the following curious, old-world narrative: —
" Of the origin of the Hound of the Baskervilles
there have been many statements, yet as I come in
a direct line from Hugo Baskerville, and as I had
the story from my father, who also had it from his,
I have set it down with all belief that it occurred
12
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLE8
even as is bene set forth. And I would have you
believe, my sons, that the same Justice which pun-
ishes sin may also most graciously forgive it, and
that no ban is so heavy but that by prayer and re-
pentance it may be removed. Learn then from this
story not to fear the fruits of the past, but rather
to be circumspect in the future, that those foul pas-
sions whereby our family has suffered so grievously
may not again be loosed to our undoing.
" Know then that in the time of the Great Re-
bellion (the history of which by the learned Lord
Clarendon I most earnestly commend to your at-
tention) this Manor of Baskerville wa§ held by
Hugo of that name, nor can it be gainsaid that he
was a most wild, profane, and godless man. This,
in truth, his neighbours might have pardoned, see-
ing that saints have never flourished in those parts,
but there was in him a certain wanton and cruel
humour which made his name a byword through
the West. It chanced that this Hugo came to love
(if, indeed, so dark a passion may be known under
so bright a name) the daughter of a yeoman who
held lands near the Baskerville estate. But the
young maiden, being discreet and of good repute,
would ever avoid him, for she feared his evil name.
So it came to pass that one Michaelmas this Hugo,
with five or six of his idle and wicked companions,
stole down upon the farm and carried off the maid-
en, her father and brothers being from home, as he
well knew. When they had brought her to the
13
VV IIMO
FOLLG
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Damaged
Best Image
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THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
moor, and the black mare, dabbled with white froth,
went past with trailing bridle and empty saddle.
Then the revellers rode close together, for a great
fear was on them, but they still followed over the
moor, though each, had he been alone, would have
been right glad to have turned his horse's head.
Riding slowly in this fashion they came at last upon
the hounds. These, though known for their valour
and their breed, were whimpering in a cluster at the
head of a deep dip or goyal, as we call it, upon the
moor, some slinking away and some, with starting
hackles and staring eyes, gazing down the narrow
valley before them.
" The company had come to a halt, more sober
men, as you may guess, than when they started.
The most of them would by no means advance, but
three of them, the boldest, or it may be the most
drunken, rode forward down the goyal. Now, it
opened into a broad space in which stood two of
those great stones, still to be seen there, which were
set by certain forgotten peoples in the days of old.
The moon was shining bright upon the clearing, and
there in the centre lay the unhappy maid where she
had fallen, dead of fear and of fatigue. But it was
not the sight of her body, nor yet was it that of the
ody of Hugo Baskerville lying near her, which
^sed the hair upon the heads of these three dare-
it m^°y^^^^^^^> but it was that, standing over
that th^"^ plucking at his throat, there stood a foul
at HugoK^*' black beast, shaped like a hound, yet
i6
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLE3
larger than any hound that ever mortal eye has
rested upon. And even as they looked the thing
tore the throat out of Hugo Baskerville, on which,
as it turned its blazing eyes and dripping jaws upon
them, the three shrieked with fear and rode for dear
life, still screaming, across the moor. One, it is
said, died that very night of what he had seen, and
the other twain were but broken men for the rest
of their days.
" Such is the tale, my sons, of the coming of the
hound which is said to have plagued the family so
sorely ever since. If I have set it down it is be-
cause that which is clearly known hath less terror
than that which is but hinted at and guessed. Nor
can it be denied that many of the family have been
unhappy in their deaths, which have been sudden,
bloody, and mysterious. Yet may we shelter out-
selves in the infinite goodness of Providence, which
would not forever punish the innocent beyond that
third or fourth generation which is threatened
in Holy Writ. To that Providence, my sons, I
hereby commend you, and I counsel you by
way of caution to forbear from crossing the moor
in those dark hours when the powers of evil are
exalted.
" [This from Hugo Baskerville to his sons
Rodger and John, with instructions that they say
nothing thereof to their sister Elizabeth.] "
When Dr. Mortimer had finished reading this
singular narrative he pushed his spectacles up on
17
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
his forehead and stared across at Mr. Sherlock
Holmes. The latter yawned and tossed the end
of his cigarette into the fire.
"Well? "said he.
" Do you not find it interesting? "
" To a collector of fairy tales."
Dr. Mortimer drew a folded newspaper out of hi«
pocket.
" Now, Mr. Holmes, we will give you something
a little more recent. This is the Devon County
Chronicle of May 14th of this year. , It is a short
account of the facts elicited at the death of Sir
Charles Baskerville which occurred a few days be-
fore that date."
My friend leaned a little forward and his expres-
sion became intent. Our visitor readjusted his
glasses and began: —
" The recent sudden death of Sir Charles Basker-
ville, whose name has been mentioned as the prob-
able Liberal candidate for Mid-Devon at the next
election, has cast a gloom over the county. Though
Sir Charles had resided at Baskerville Hall for a
comparatively short period his amiability of charac-
ter and extreme generosity had won the affection
and respect of all who had been brought into con-
tact with him. In these days of nouveaux riches it
is refreshing to find a case where the scion of an old
county family which has fallen upon evil days is able
to make his own fortune and to bring it back with
him to restore the fallen grandeur of his line. Sir
18
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES
Charles, as is well known, made large sums of money
in South African speculation. More wise than
those who go on until the wheel turns against them,
he realized his gains and returned to England with
them. It is only two' years since he took up his
residence at Baskerville Hall, and it is common talk
how large were those schemes of reconstruction and
improvement which have been interrupted by his
death. Being himself childless, it was his openly
expressed desire that the whole countryside should,
within his own lifetime, profit by his good fortune,
and many will have personal reasons for bewailing
his untimely end. His generous donations to local
and county charities have been frequently chroni-
cled in these columns.
" The circumstances connected with the death of
Sir Charles cannot be said to have been entirely
cleared up by the inquest, but at least enough has
been done to dispose of those rumours to which
local superstition has given rise. There is no rea-
son whatever to suspect foul play, or to imagine that
death could be from any but natural causes. Sir
Charles was a widower, and a man who may be said
to have been in some ways of an eccentric habit of
mind. In spite of his considerable wealth he was
simple in his personal tastes, and his indoor servants
at Baskerville Hall consisted of a married couple
named Barrymore, the husband acting as butler and
the wife as housekeeper. Their evidence, corrobo-
rated by that of several friends, tends to show that
19
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE*
Sir Charles's health has for some time been im-
paired, and points especially to some affection of the
heart, manifesting itself in changes of colour, breath-
lessness, and acute attacks of nervous depression.
Dr. James Mortimer, the friend and medical at-
tendant of the deceased, has given evidence to the
same effect.
" The facts of the case are simple. Sir Charles
Baskerville was in the habit every night before go-
ing to bed of walking down the famous Yew Alley
of Baskerville Hall. The evidence of the Barry-
mores shows that this had been his custom. On
the 4th of May Sir Charles had declared his inten-
tion of starting next day for London, and had or-
dered Barrymore to prepare his luggage. That
night he went out as usual lor his nocturnal walk,
in the course of which he was in the habit of smok-
ing a cigar. He never returned. At twelve o'clock
Barrymore, finding the hall- door still open, became
alarmed, and, lighting a lantern, went in search of
his master. The day had been wet, and Sir
Charles's footmarks were easily traced down the Al-
ley. Half-way down this walk there is a gate which
leads out on to the moor. There were indications
that Sir Charles had stood for some little time here.
He then proceeded down the Alley, and it was at
the far end of it that his body was discovered. One
fact which has not been explained is the statement
of Barrymore that his master's footprints altered
their character from the time that he passed the
20
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES
moor-gate, and that he appeared from thence on-
wards to have been walking upon his toes. One
Murphy, a gipsy horse-dealer, was on the moor at
no great distance at the time, but he appears by his
own confession to have been the worse for drink.
He declares that he heard cries, but is unable to
state from what direction they came. No signs of
violence were to be discovered upon Sir Charles's
person, and though the doctor's evidence pointed
to an almost incredible facial distortion — so great
that Dr. Mortimer refused at first to believe that it
was indeed his friend and patient who lay before
him — it was explained that that is a symptom which
is not unusual in cases of dyspnoea and death
from cardiac exhaustion. This explanation was
borne out by the. post-mortem examination, which
showed long-standing organic disease, and the coro-
ner's jury returned a verdict in accordance with the
medical evidence. It is well that this is so, for it
is obviously of the utmost importance that Sir
Charles's heir should settle at the Hall and continue
the good work which has been so sadly interrupted.
Had the prosaic finding of the coroner not finally
put an end to the romantic stories which have been
whispered in connection with the affair, it might
have been difficult to find a tenant for Baskerville
Hall. It is understood that the next-of-kin is Mr.
Henry Baskerville, if he be still alive, the son of Sir
Charles Baskerville's younger brother. The young
man when last heard of was in America, and in-
21
THE HOUND OF THE 1 A, S K E R V I L L E S
quiries are being instituted with a view to inform-
ing him of his good fortune."
Dr. Mortimer refolded his paper and replaced it
in his pocket.
" Those are the public facts, Mr. Holmes, in con-
nection with the death of Sir Charles Baskerville."
" I must thank you," said Sherlock Holmes, " for
calling my attention to a case which certainly pre-
sents some features of interest. I had observed
some newspaper comment at the time, but I was ex-
ceedingly preoccupied by that little affair of the
Vatican cameos, and in my anxiety to oblige the
Pope I lost touch with several interesting English
cases. This article, you say, contains all the public '
facts? "
" It does."
" Then let me have the private ones." He
leaned back, put his finger-tips together, and as-
sumed his most impassive and judicial expression.
" In doing so," said Dr. Mortimer, who had be-
gun to show signs of some strong emotion, " I am
telling that which I have not confided to anyone
My motive for withholding it from the coroner**
inquiry is that a man of science shrinks from placing
himself in the public position of seeming to indorse
a popular superstition. I had the further motive
that Baskerville Hall, as the paper says, would cer-
tainly remain untenanted if anything were done to
increase its already rather grim reputation, For .
both these reasons I thought that I was justified in
22
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES
telling rather less than I knew, since no practical
good could result from it, but with you there is no
reason why I should not be perfectly frank.
" The moor is very sparsely inhabited, and those
who live near each other are thrown very much to-
gether. For this reason I saw a good deal of Sir
Charles Baskerville. With the exception of Mr.
Frankland, of Lafter Hall, and Mr. Stapleton, the
naturalist, there are no other men of education with-
in many miles. Sir Charles was a retiring man, but
the chance of his illness brought us together, and a
community of interests in science kept us so. He
had brought back much scientific information from
South Africa, and many a charming evening we
have spent together discussing the comparative
anatomy of the Bushman and the Hottentot.
" Within the last few months it became increas-
ingly plain to me that Sir Charles's nervous system
was strained to the breaking point. He had taken
this legend which I have read you exceedingly to
heart — so much so that, although he would walk in
his own grounds, nothing would induce him to go
out upon the moor at night. Incredible as it may
appear to you, Mr. Holmes, he was honestly con-
vinced that a dreadful fate overhung his family, and
certainly the records which he was able to give of
his ancestors were not encouraging. The idea of
some ghastly presence constantly haunted him, and
on more than one occasion he has asked me
whether I had on my medical journeys at night
23
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
ever seen any strange creature or heard the baying
of a hound. The latter question he put to me sev-
eral times, and always with a voice which vibrated
with excitement.
" I can well remember driving up to his house in
the evening, some three weeks before the fatal
event. He chanced to be at his hall door. I had
descended from my gig and was standing in front
of him, when I saw his eyes fix themselves over my
shoulder, and stare past me with an expression of
the most dreadful horror. I whisked round and
had just time to catch a glimpse of something which
I took to be a large black calf passing at the head
of the drive. So excited and alarmed was he that
I was compelled to go down to the spot where the
animal had been and look around for it. It was
gone, however, and the incident appeared to make
the worst impression upon his mind. I stayed with
him all the evening, and it was on that occasion, to
'>• plain the emotion which he had shown, that he
confided to my keeping that narrative which I read
to you when first I came. I mention this small
episode because it assumes some importance in view
of the tragedy which followed, but I was convinced
at the time that the matter was entirely trivial and
that his excitement had no justification.
" It was at my advice that Sir Charles was about
to go to London. His heart was, I knew, affected, .
and the constant anxiety in which he lived, however
chimerical the cause of it might be, was evidently
24
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLBS
having a serious effect upon his health. I thought
that a few months among the distractions of town
would send him back a new man. Mr. Stapleton,
a mutual friend who was much concerned at his
state of health, was of the same opinion. At the
last instant came this terrible catastrophe.
" On the night of Sir Charles's death Barrymore
the butler, who made the discovery, sent Perkins the
groom on horseback to me, and as I was sitting up
late I was able to reach Baskerville Hall within an
hour of the event. I checked and corroborated all
the facts which were mentioned at the inquest. I
followed the footsteps down the Yew Alley, I saw
the spot at the moor-gate where he seemed to have
waited, I remarked the change in the shape of the
prints after that point, I noted that there were no
other footsteps save those of Barrymore on the soft
gravel, and finally I carefully examined the body,
which had not been touched until my arrival. Sir
Charles lay on his face, his arms out, his fingers dug
into the ground, and his features convulsed with
some strong emotion to such an extent that I could
hardly have sworn to his identity. There was cer-
tainly no physical injury of any kind. But one false
statement was made by Barrymore at the inquest.
He said that there were no traces upon the ground
round the body. He did not observe any. But I
did — some little distance off, but fresh and clear."
" Footprints? "
" Footprints."
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVlLLES
" A man's or a woman's? "
Dr. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an in-
stant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he
answered: —
" Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a
gigantic hound!"
36
Ill
The Problem
I CONFESS that at these words a shudder
passed through me. There was a thrill in the
doctor's voice which showed that he was him-
self deeply moved by that which he told us. Holmes
leaned forward in his excitement and his eyes had
the hard, dry glitter which shot from them when
he was keenly interested.
" You saw this? "
" As clearly as I see you."
" And you said nothing? "
" What was the use? "
" How was it that no one else saw it? "
"The marks were some twenty yards from the
body and no one gave them a thought. I don't
suppose I should have done so had I not known
this legend."
" There are many sheep-dogs on the moor? "
" No doubt, but this was no sheep-dog."
" You say it was large? "
" Enormous."
" But it had not approached the body? "
" No."
" What sort of night was it? "
THE HOUND OF THE B ASKE R VI LLE S
" Damp and raw."
" But not actually raining? "
" No."
" What is the alley like? "
" There are two lines of old yew hedge, twelve
feet high and impenetrable. The walk in the cen-
tre is about eight feet across."
" Is there anything between the hedges and the
walk? "
" Yes, there is a strip of grass about six feet
broad on either side."
" I understand that the yew hedge is penetrated
at one point by a gate? "
" Yes, the wicket-gate which leads on to the
moor."
" Is there any other opening? "
" None."
" So that to reach the Yew Alley one either has
to come down it from the house or else to enter it
by the moor-gate? "
" There is an exit through a summer-house at the
far end."
" Had Sir Charles reached this? "
" No; he lay about fifty yards from it."
" Now, tell me, Dr. Mortimer — and this is im-
portant^the marks which you saw were on the
path and not on the grass? "
" No marks could show on the grass."
" Were they on the same side of the path as the
moor-gate? "
38
THE PROBLEM
" Yes; they were on the edge of the path on the
same side as the moor-gate."
" You interest me exceedingly. Another point.
Was the wicket-gate closed? "
" Closed and padlocked."
" How high was it? "
" About four feet high."
" Then anyone could have got over it? "
" Yes."
"And what marks did you see by the wicket-
gate? "
" None in particular."
" Good Heaven! Did no one examine? "
" Yes, I examined myself."
" And found nothing? "
" It was all very confused. Sir Charles had evi-
dently stood there for five or ten minutes."
" How do you know that? "
" Because the ash had twice dropped from his
cigar."
" Excellent! This is a colleague, Watson, after
our own heart. But the marks? "
" He had left his own marks all over that small
patch of gravel. I could discern no others."
Sherlock Holmes struck his hand against his knee
with an impatient gesture.
" If I had only been there! " he cried. " It is evi-
dently a case of extraordinary interest, and one
which presented immense opportunities to the sci-
entific, expert. That gravel page upon which I
29
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
might have read so much has been long ere this
smudged by the rain and defaced by the clogs of
curious peasants. Oh, Dr. Mortimer, Dr. Morti-
mer, to think that you should not have called me
in ! You have indeed much to answer for."
" I could not call you in, Mr. Holmes, writhout
disclosing these facts to the world, and I have al-
ready given my reasons for not wishing to do so.
Besides, besides "
" Why do you hesitate? "
" There is a realm in which the most acute and
most experienced of detectives is helpless."
" You mean that the thing is supernatural? "
" I did not positively say so."
" No, but you evidently think it."
" Since the tragedy, Mr. Holmes, there have
come to my ears several incidents which are hard
to reconcile with the settled order of Nature."
" For exampk? "
" I find that before the terrible event occurred
several people had seen a creature upon the moor
which corresponds with this Baskerville demon, and
which could not possibly be any animal known to
science. They all agreed that it was a huge creat-
ure, luminous, ghastly, and spectral. I have cross-
examined these men, one of them a hard-headed
countryman, one a farrier, and one a moorland
farmer, who all tell the same story of this dreadful
apparition, exactly corresponding to the hell-hound
<rf the legend I assure you that there is a reijH)
30
THE PROBLEM
of terror in the district and that it is a hardy man
who will cross the moor at night."
" And you, a trained man of science, believe it to
be supernatural? "
" I do not know what to believe."
Holmes shrugged his shoulders.
" I have hitherto confined my investigations to
this world," said he. " In a modest way I have
combated evil, but to take on the Father of Evil
himself would, perhaps, be too ambitious a task.
Yet you must admit that the footmark is material."
" The original hound was material enough to tug
a man's throat out, and yet he was diabolical as
well."
" I see that you have quite gone over to the su-
pernaturalists. But now. Dr. Mortimer, tell me
this. If you hold these views, why have you come
to consult me at all? You tell me in the same
breath that it is useless to investigate Sir Charles's
death, and that you desire me to do it."
" I did not say that I desired you to do it."
" Then, how can I assist you? "
" By advising me as to what I should do with Sir
Henry Baskerville, who arrives at Waterloo Sta-
tion " — Dr. Mortimer looked at his watch — " in ex-
actly one hour and a quarter."
" He being the heir? "
" Yes. On the death of Sir Charles we inquired
for this young gentleman, and found that he had
been farming in Canada. From the accounts which
31
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
have reached us he is an excellent fellow in every
way. I speak now not as a medical man but as a
trustee and executor of Sir Charles's will."
" There is no other claimant, I presume? "
" None. The only other kinsman whom we have
been able to trace was Rodger Baskerville, the
youngest of three brothers of whom poor Sir
Charles was the elder. The second brother, who
died young, is the father of this lad Henry. The
third, Rodger, was the black sheep of the family.
He came of the old masterful Baskerville strain, and
was the very image, they tell me, of the family pict-
ure of old Hugo. He made England too hot to
hold him, fled to Central America, and died there
in 1876 of yellow fever. Henry is the last of the
Baskervilles. In one hour and five minutes I meet
him at Waterloo Station. I have had a wire that
he arrived at Southampton this morning. Now,
Mr. Holmes, what would you advise me to do with
him?"
" Why should he not go to the home of his
fathers? "
" It seems natural, does it not? And yet, con-
sider that every Baskerville who goes there meets
with an evil fate. I feel sure that if Sir Charles
could have spoken with me before his death he
would have warned me against bringing this the
last of the old race, and the heir to great wealth, to
that deadly place. And yet it cannot be denied that
the prosperity of the whole poor, bleak country-side
32
THE PROBLEM
depends upon his presence. All the good work
which has been done by Sir Charles will crash to
the ground if there is no tenant of the Hall. I fear
lest I should be swayed too much by my own ob-
vious interest in the matter, and that is why I bring
the case before you and ask for your advice."
Holmes considered for a little time.
" Put into plain words, the matter is this," said
he. " In your opinion there is a diabolical agency
which makes Dartmoor an unsafe abode for a Bas-
kerville — that is your opinion? "
" At least I might go the length of saying that
there is some evidence that this may be so."
" Exactly. But surely, if your supernatural the-
ory be correct, it could work the young man evil in
London as easily as in Devonshire. A devil with
merely local powers like a parish vestry would be
too inconceivable a thing."
"You pat the matter more flippantly, Mr.
Holmes, than you would probably do if you were
brought into personal contact with these things.
Your advice, then, as I understand it, is that the
young man will be as safe in Devonshire as in Lon-
don He comes in fifty minutes. What would yot:
recommend? "
" I recommend, sir, that you take a cab, call oflf
four spaniel who is scratching at my front door,
4nd proceed to Waterloo to meet Sir Henry Bas-
kerville."
"And then?*
33
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEI
" And then you will say nothing to him at all
until I have made up my mind about the matter."
" How long will it take you to make up your
mind? "
"Twenty-four hours. At ten o'clock to-mor-
row, Dr. Mortimer, I will be much obliged to you
if you will call upon me here, and it will be of help
to me in my plans for the future if you will bring
Sir Henry Baskerville with you."
" I will do so, Mr. Holmes." He scribbled the
appointment on his shirt cuff and hurried off in his
strange, peering, absent-minded fashion. Holmes
stopped him at the head of the stair.
" Only one more question, Dr. Mortimer. You
say that before Sir Charles Baskerville's death sev-
eral people saw this apparition upon the moor? "
" Three people did."
" Did any see it after? "
" I have not heard of any."
" Thank you. Good morning."
Holmes returned to his seat with that quiet look
of inward satisfaction which meant that he had a
congenial task before him.
" Going out, Watson? "
" Unless I can help you."
" No, my dear fellow, it is at the hour of action
that I turn to you for aid. But this is splendid,
really unique from some points of view. When you
pass Bradley's would you ask him to send up a
pound of the strongest shag tobacco? Thank yoa
34
THE IPROBJtEM
It would be as well if you could make it convenient
not to return before evening. Then I should be
very glad to compare impressions as to this most
interesting problem which has been submitted to us
this morning,"
I knew that seclusion and solitude were ver/
necessary for my friend in those hours of intense
mental concentration during which he weighed
every particle of evidence, constructed alternative
theories, balanced one against the other, and made
up his mind as to which points were essential and
which immaterial. I therefore spent the day at my
club and did not return to Baker Street until even-
ing. It was nearly nine o'clock when I found my-
self in the sitting-room once more.
My first impression as I opened the door was tha\
a fire had broken out, for the room was so filled
with smoke that the light of the lamp upon the
table was blurred by it. As I entered, however, my
fears were set at rest, for it was the acrid fumes of
strong coarse tobacco which took me by the throat
and set me coughing. Through the haze I had a
vague vision of Holmes in his dressing-gown coiled
yp in an arm-chair with his black clay pipe between
his lips. Several rolls of paper lay around him
" Caught cold, Watson? " said he.
" No, it's this poisonous atmosphere."
" I suppose it is pretty thick, now that you men-
tion it."
" Thick! It is intolerable."
35
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
" Open the window, then! You have been at
jrour club all day, I perceive."
"My dear Holmes!"
"Am I right?"
" Certainly, but how ? "
He laughed at my bewildered expression.
" There is a delightful freshness about you, Wat-
son, which makes it a pleasure to exercise any small
powers which I possess at your expense. A gentle-
man goes forth on a showery and miry day. He
returns immaculate in the evening with the gloss
still on his hat and his boots. He has been a fixture
therefore all day. He is not a man with intimate
friends. Where, then, could he have been? Is it
not obvious? "
" Well, it is rather obvious."
"The world is full of obvious things which no-
body by any chance ever observes. Where do you
think that I have been? "
" A fixture also."
" On the contrary, I have been to Devonshire."
" In spirit? "
" Exactly. My body has remained in this arm-
chair, and has, I regret to observe, consumed in my
absence two large pots of coflfee and an incredible
amount of tobacco. After you left I sent down to
Stamford's for the Ordnance map of this portion of
the moor, and my spirit has hovered over it all day.
I flatter myself that I could find my way about."
* A large scale map, I presume? "
36
THE PROBLEM
" Very large." He unrolled one section and held
it over his knee. " Here you have the particular
district which concerns us. That is Baskerville
Hall in the middle."
" With a wood round it? "
" Exactly. I fancy the Yew Alley, though not
marked under that name, must stretch along this
line, with the moor, as you perceive, upon the right
of it. This small clump of buildings here is the
hamlet of Grimpen, where our friend Dr. Mortimer
has his head-quarters. Within a radius of five miles
there are, as you see, only a very few scattered dwell-
ings. Here is Lafter Hall, which was mentioned in
the narrative. There is a house indicated here
which may be the residence of the naturalist — Sta-
pleton, if I remember right, was his name. Here
are two moorland farm-houses, High Tor and Foul-
mire. Then fourteen miles away the great convict
prison of Princetown. Between and around these
scattered points extends the desolate, lifeless moor.
This, then, is the stage upon which tragedy has been
played, and upon which we may help to play it
again."
" It must be a wild place."
" Yes, the setting is a worthy one. If the devil
did desire to have a hand in the affairs of men "
" Then you are yourself inclining to the super-
natural explanation."
" The devil's agents may be of flesh and blood,
may they not? There are two questions waiting for
37
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
US at the outset. The one is whether any crime has
been committed at all; the second is, what is the
crime and how was it committed? Of course, if
Dr. Mortimer's surmise should be correct, and we
are dealing with jorces outside the ordinary laws of
Nature, there is an end of our investigation. But
we are bound to exhaust all other hypotheses before
falling back upon this one. I think we'll shut that
window again, if you don't mind. It is a singular
thing, but I find that a concentrated atmosphere
helps a concentration of thought. I have not
pushed it to the length of getting into a box to
think, but that is the logical outcome of my con-
victions. Have you turned the case over in your
mind? "
" Yes, I have thought a good deal of it in the
course of the day."
" What do you make of it? "
" It is very bewildering."
" It has certainly a character of its own. There
are points of distinction about it. That change in
the footprints, for example. What do you make of
that? "
" Mortimer said that the man had walked on tip-
toe down that portion of the alley."
" He only repeated what some fool had said at
the inquest. Why should a man walk on tiptoe
down the alley? "
"What then?"
" He was running, Watson — ^running desperate-
38
THE PROBLEM
ly, running for his life, running until he burst his
heart and fell dead upon his face."
" Running from what? "
" There lies our problem. There are indications
that the man was crazed with fear before ever he
began to run."
" How can you say that? "
" I am presuming that the cause of his fears came
to him across the moor. If that were so, and it
seems most probable, only a man who had lost his
wits would have run from the house instead of tow-
ards it. If the gipsy's evidence may be taken as
true, he ran with cries for help in the direction where
help was least likely to be. Then, again, whom was
he waiting for that night, and why was he waiting
for him in the Yew Alley rather than in his own
house? "
" You think that he was waiting for someone? "
" The man was elderly and infirm. W^ can un-
derstand his taking an evening stroll, but the ground
was damp and the night inclement. Is it natural
that he should stand for five or ten minutes, as Dr.
Mortimer, with more practical sense than I should
have given him credit for, deduced from the cigv
ash? "
" But he went out every evening."
" I think it unlikely that he waited at the moor-
gate every evening. On the contrary, the evidence
is that he avoided the moor. That night he waited
therft It was the night before he made his deparf
39
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
ure for London. The thing takes shape, Watson.
It becomes coherent. Might I ask you to hand me
my violin, and we will postpone all further thought
upon this business until we have had the advantage
of meeting Dr. Mortimer and Sir Henry Baskerville
in the morning."
40
IV
Sir Henry Baskerville
OUR breakfast-table was cleared early, and
Holmes waited in his dressing-gown for
the promised interview. Our clients were
punctual to their appointment, for the clock had just
struck ten when Dr. Mortimer was shown up, fol-
lowed by the young ibaronet. The latter was a
small, alert, dark-eyed man about thirty years of
age, very sturdily built, with thick black eyebrows
and a strong, pugnacious face. He wore a ruddy-
tinted tweed suit, and had the weather-beaten ap-
pearance of one who has spent most of his time in
the open air, and yet there was something in his
steady eye and the quiet assurance of his bearing
which indicated the gentleman.
" This is Sir Henry Baskerville," said Dr. Mor-
timer.
" Why, yes," said he, " and the strange thing is,
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, that if my friend here had
not proposed coming round to you this morning I
should have come on my own account. I under-
stand that you think out little puzzles, and I've had
one this morning which wants more thinking out
than I am able to give to it."
" Pray take a seat, Sir Henry. Do I understand
41
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
you to say that you have yourself had some re-
markable experience since you arrived in Lon-
don?"
" Nothing of much importance, Mr. Holmes.
Only a joke, as like as not. It was this letter, if
you can call it a letter, which reached me this morn-
mg.
He laid an envelope upon the table, and we all
bent over it. It was of common quality, greyish in
colour. The address, " Sir Henry Baskerville,
Northumberland Hotel," was printed in rough char-
acters; the post-mark " Charing Cross," and the
date of posting the preceding evening.
" Who knew that you were going to the Nor-
thumberland Hotel? " asked Holmes, glancing
keenly across at our visitor.
" No one could have known. We only decided
after I met Dr. Mortimer."
" But' Dr. Mortimer was no doubt already stop-
ping there? "
" No, I had been staying with a friend," said the
doctor. " There was no possible indication that we
intended to go to this hotel."
" Hum ! Someone seems to be very deeply in-
terested in your movements." Out of the envelope
he took a half-sheet of foolscap paper folded into
four. This he opened and spread flat upon the
table. Across the middle of it a single sentence had
been formed by the expedient of pasting printed
words upon it. It ran: "As you value your life
43
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE
or your reason keep away from the moor." I'he
word " moor " only was printed in ink.
" Now," said Sir Henry Baskerville, " perhaps
y^ou will tell me, Mr. Holmes, what in thunder is
the meaning of that, and who it is that takes so
much interest in my affairs? "
" What do you make of it. Dr. Mortimer? You
must allow that there is nothing supernatural about
this, at any rate? "
" No, sir, but it might very well come from some-
one who was convinced that the business is super-
natural."
" What business? " asked Sir Henry, sharply.
" It seems to me that all you gentlemen know
a great deal more than I do about my own af-
fairs."
" You shall share our knowledge before you leave
this room. Sir Henry. I promise you that," said
Sherlock Holmes. " We will confine ourselves for
the present with your permission to this very inter-
esting document, which must have been put to-
gether and posted yesterday evening. Have you
yesterday's Times, Watson? "
" It is here in the corner."
" Might I trouble you for it — the inside page,
please, with the leading articles? " He glanced
swiftly over it, running his eyes up and down the
columns. " Capital articl^ this on Free Trade.
Permit me to give you an extract from it. ' You
may be cajoled into imagining that your owi:
43
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
special trade or your own industry will be encour-
aged by a protective tariff, but it stands to rea-
son that such legislation must in the long run keep
away wealth from the country, diminish the value
of our imports, and lower the general conditions of
life in this island.' What do you think of that,
Watson? " cried Holmes, in high glee, rubbing his
hands together with satisfaction. " Don't you
think that is an admirable sentiment? "
Dr. Mortimer looked at Holmes with an air of
professional interest, and Sir Henry Baskerville
turned a pair of puzzled dark eyes upon me.
" I don't know much about the tariff and things
of that kind," said he; "but it seems to me we've
got a bit off the trail so far as that note is con-
cerned."
" On the contrary, I think we are particularly hot
upon the trail. Sir Henry. Watson here knows
more about my methods than you do, but I fear that
even he has not quite grasped the significance of
this sentence."
" No, I confess that I see no connection."
" And yet, my dear Watson, there is so very close
a connection that the one is extracted out of the
other. 'You,' 'your,' 'your,' 'life,' 'reason,'
' value,' ' keep away,' ' from the.' Don't you see
now whence these words have been taken? "
" By thunder, you're right! Well, if that isn't
smart! " cried Sir Heftry.
" If any possible doubt remained it is settled by
44
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE
the fact that ' keep away ' and ' from the ' are cut
out in one piece."
"Well, now— so it is!"
" Really, Mr. Holmes, this exceeds anything
which I could have imagined," said Dr. Mortimer,
gazing at my friend in amazement. " I could un-
derstand anyone saying that the words were from
.a newspaper; but that you should name which, and
add that it came from the leading article, is really
one of the most remarkable things which I have
ever known. How did you do it? "
" I presume, doctor, that you could tell the skull
of a negro from that of an Esquimaux? "
" Most certainly."
" But how? "
" Because that is my special hobby. The differ-
ences are obvious. The supra-orbital crest, the
facial angle, the maxillary curve, the "
" But this is my special hobby, and the differ'ences
are equally obvious. There is as much difference
to my eyes between the leaded bourgeois type of a
Times article and the slovenly print of an evening
halfpenny paper as there could be between your
negro and your Esquimaux. The detection of
types is one of the most dementary branches of
knowledge to the special expert in crime, though I
confess that once when I was very young I confused
the Leeds Mercury with the Western Mormng News.
But a Times leader is entirely distinctive, and these
words could have been taken from nothing else.
45
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
As it was done yesterday the strong probability was
that we should find the words in yesterday's issue."
" So far as I can follow you, then, Mr. Holmes,"
said Sir Henry Baskerville, " someone cut out this
message with a scissors "
" Nail-scissors," said Holmes. " You can see
that it was a very short-bladed scissors, since the
cutter had to take two snips over ' keep away.' "
" That is so. Someone, then, cut out the mes-
sage with a pair of short-bladed scissors, pasted it
with paste "
" Gum," said Holmes.
" With gum on to the paper. But I want to
know why the word ' moor ' should have been writ-
ten? "
" Because he could not find it in print. The
other words were all simple and might be found in
any issue, but ' moor ' would be less common."
/ " Why, of course, that would explain it. Have
you read anything else in this message, Mr.
Holmes? "
" There are one or two indications, and yet the
utmost pains have been taken to remove all clues.
The address, you observe, is printed in rough char-
acters. But the Times is a paper which is seldom
found in any hands but those of the highly educated.
We m.ay take it, therefore, that the letter was com-
posed by an educated man who wished to pose as
an uneducated one, and his efifort to conceal his own
writing euggests that that writicg might be keavfOf
46
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE
or come to be known, by you. Again, you will ob-
serve that the words are not gummed on in an ac-
curate line, but that some are much higher than
others. ' Life,' for example, is quite out of its
proper place. That may point to carelessness or
it may point to agitation and hurry upon the part
of the cutter. On the whole I incline to the latter
view, since the matter was evidently important, and
it is unlikely that the composer of such a letter
would be careless. If he were in a hurry it opens
up the interesting question why he should be in a
hurry, since any letter posted up to early morning
would reach Sir Henry before he would leave his
hotel. Did the composer fear an interruption —
and from whom?"
" We are coming now rather into the region of
guess work," said Dr. Mortimer.
" Say, rather, into the region where we balance
probabilities and choose the most likely. It is the
scientific use of the imagination, but we have always
some material basis on which to start our specula-
tions. Now, you would call it a guess, no doubt,
but I am almost certain that this address has been
written in an hotel."
" How in the world can you say that? "
" If you examine it carefully you will see that
both the pen and the ink have given the writer
trouble. The pen has spluttered twice in a single
word, and has run dry three times in a short ad-
dress, showing that there was very little ink in the
47
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
bottle. Now, a private pen or ink-bottle is seldom
allowed to be in such a state, and the combination
of the two must be quite rare. But you know the
hotel ink and the hotel pen, where it is rare to get
anything else. Yes, I have very little hesitation in
saying that could we examine the waste-paper bas-
kets of the hotels round Charing Cross until we
found the remains of the mutilated Times leader
we could lay our hands straight upon the person
who sent this singular message. Halloa! Halloa!
What's this? "
He was carefully examining the foolscap, upon
which the words were pasted, holding it only an
inch or two from his eyes.
" Well? "
" Nothing," said he, throwing it down. " It is a
blank half-sheet of paper, without even a watermark
upon it. I think we have drawn as much as we
can from this curious letter; and now, Sir Henry,
has anything else of interest happened to you since
you have been in London? "
" Why, no, Mr. Holmes. I think not."
" You have not observed anyone follow or watch
you? "
" I seem to have walked right into the thick of a
dime novel," said our visitor. " Why in thunder
should anyone follow or watch me? "
"We are coming to that. You have nothing
■else to report to us before we go into this mat-
ter?"
48
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE
"Well, it depends upon what you think worth
reporting."
" I think anything out of the ordinary routine of
life well worth reporting."
Sir Henry smiled.
" I don't know much of British life yet, for I have
spent nearly all my time in the States and in Canada.
But I hope that to lose one of your boots is not
part of the ordinary routine of life over here."
" You have lost one of your boots? "
" My dear sir," cried Dr. Mortimer, " it is only
mislaid. You will find it when you return to the
hotel. What is the use of troubling Mr. Holmes
with trifles of this kind? "
" Well, he asked me for anything outside the or-
dinary routine."
" Exactly," said Holmes, " however foolish the
incident may seem. You have lost one of your
boots, you say? "
" Well, mislaid it, anyhow. I put them both out-
side my door last night, and there was only one in
the morning. I could get no sense out of the chap
who cleans them. The worst of it is that I only
bought the pair last night in the Strand, and I have
never had them on."
" If you have never worn them, why did you put
them out to be cleaned? "
" They were tan boots, and had never been var-
nished. That was why I put them out."
" Then I understand that on your arrival in Lon-
49
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
don yesterday you went out at once and bought a
pair of boots? "
" I did a good deal of shopping. Dr. Mortimer
here went round with me. You see, if I am to be
squire down there I must dress the part, and it may
be that I have got a little careless in my ways out
West. Among other things I bought these brown
^ boots — gave six dollars for them — and had one
stolen before ever I had them on my feet."
" It seems a singularly useless thing to steal," said
Sherlock Holmes. "I confess that I share Dr.
Mortimer's belief that it will not be long before the
missing boot is found."
" And, now, gentlemen," said the baronet, witli
decision, " it seems to me that I have spoken quite
enough about the little that I know. It is time that
you kept your promise and gave me a full account
of what we are all driving at."
" Your request is a very reasonable one," Holmes
answered. " Dr. Mortimer, I think you could not
do better than to tell your story as you told it to
us."
Thus encouraged, our scientific friend drew his
papers from his pocket, and presented the whole case
as he had dbne upon the morning before. Sir
Henry Baskerville listened with the deepest at-
tention, and with an occasional exclamation of sur-
prise.
" Well, I seem to have come into an inheritance
with a vengeance," said he, when the long narrative
SO
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE
was finished. " Of course, I've heard of the hound
ever since I was in the nursery. It's the pet story
of the family, though I never thought of taking it
seriously before. But as to my uncle's death —
well, it all seems boiling up in my head, and I can't
get it clear yet. You don't seem quite to have
made up your mind whether it's a case for a police-
man or a clergyman."
" Precisely."
" And now there's this affair of the letter to me
at the hotel. I suppose that fits into its place."
" It seems to show that someone knows more
than we do about what goes on upon the moor,"
said Dr. Mortimer.
" And also," said Holmes, " that someone is not
ill-disposed towards you, since they warn you of
danger."
" Qr it m^y be that they wish, for their own pur-
poses, to scare me away."
" Well, of course, that is possible also. I am
very much indebted to you. Dr. Mortimer, for in-
troducing me to a problem which presents several
interesting alternatives. But the practical point
which we now have to decide, Sir Henry, is whe»-her
it is or is not advisable for you to go to Baskerville
Hall."
" Why should Inot go? "
" There seems to be danger."
" Do you mean danger from this family fiend or
do you mean danger from human beings? "
SI
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" Well, that is what we have to find out."
" Whichever it is, my answer is fixed. There is
no devil in hell, Mr. Holmes, and there is no man
upon earth who can prevent me from going to the
home of my own people, and you may take that to
be my final answer." His dark brows knitted and
his face flushed to a dusky red as he spoke. It was
evident that the fiery temper of the Baskervilles was
not extinct in this their last representative. " Mean-
while," said he, " I have hardly had time to think
over all that you have told me. It's a big thing for
a man to have to understand and to decide at one
sitting. I should like to have a quiet hour by my-
self to make up my mind. Now, look here, Mr.
Holmes, it's half-past eleven now and I am going
back right away to my hotel. Suppose you and
your friend, Dr. Watson, come round and lunch
with us at two? I'll be sable to tell you more clearly
then how this thing strilces me."
" Is that convenient to you, Watson? "
"Perfectly."
" Then you may expect us. Shall I have a cab
called? "
" I'd prefer to walk, for this affair has flurried me
rather."
" I'll join you in a walk, with pleasure," said his
companion.
" Then we meet again at two o'clock. Au revotr,
and good morning! "
We heard the steps of our visitors descend the
52
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE
Stair and the bang of the front door. In an instant
Holmes had changed from the languid dreamer to
the man of action.
"Your hat and boots, Watson, quick! Not a
moment to lose ! " He rushed into his room in his
dressing-gown and was back again in a few seconds
in a frock-coat. We hurried together down the
stairs and into the street. Dr. Mortimer and Bas-
kerville were still visible about two hundred yards
ahead of us in the direction of Oxford Street.
" Shall I run on and stop them? "
" Not for the world, my dear Watson. I am per-
fectly satisfied with your company if you will tol-
erate mine. Our friends are wise, for it is certainly
a very fine morning for a walk."
He quickened his pace until we had decreased
the distance which divided us by about half. Then,
still keeping a hundred yards behind, we followed
into Oxford Street and so down Regent Street.
Once our friends stopped and stared into a shop
window, upon which Holmes did the same. An in-
stant afterwards he gave a little cry of satisfaction,
and, following the direction of his eager eyes, I saw
that a hansom cab with a man inside which had
halted on the other side of the street was now walk-
ing slowly onwards again.
"There's our man, Watson! Come along!
We'll have a good look at him, if we can do no
more."
At that instant I was aware of a bushy black
S3
THE HOUl^D OF THE BASKERVILLES
beard and a pair of piercing eyes turned upon us
through the side window of the cab. Instantly the
trap-door at the top flew up, something was
screamed to the driver, and the cab flew madly oflE
down Regent Street. Holmes looked eagerly
round for another, but no empty one was in sight.
Then he dashed in wild pursuit amid the stream of
the traffic, but the start was too great, and already
the cab was out of sight.
"There now!" said Holmes, bitterly, as he
emerged panting and white with vexation from the
tide of vehicles. " Was ever such bad luck and
such bad management, too? Watson, Watson, if
you are an honest man you will record this also and
set it against my successes! "
" Who was the man? "
" I have not an idea."
"A spy?"
" Well, it was evident from what we have heard
that Baskerville has been very closely shadowed by
someone since he has been in town. How else
could it be known so quickly that it was the Nor-
thumberland Hotel which he had chosen? If they
had followed him the first day I argued that they
would follow him also the second. You may have
observed that I twice strolled over to the window
while Dr. Mortimer was reading his legend."
" Yes, I remember."
" I was looking out for loiterers in the street, but
I saw none. We are dealing with a clever man,
54
I was aware of a bushy black beard and a pair of
piercing eyes turned upon us.
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE
Watson. This matter cuts very deep, and though
I have not finally made up my mind whether it is
a benevolent or a malevolent agency which is in
touch with us, I am conscious always of power and
design. When our friends left I at once followed
them in the hopes of marking down their invisible
attendant. So wily was he that he had not trusted
himself upon foot, but he had availed himself of a
cab, so that he could loiter behind or dash past them
and so escape their notice. His method had the
additional advantage that if they were to take a cab
he was all ready to follow them. It has, however,
one obvious disadvantage."
" It puts him in the power of the cabman."
" Exactly."
" What a pity we did not get the number! "
" My dear Watson, clumsy as I have been, you
surely do not seriously imagine that I neglected to
get the number? 2704 is our man. But that is no
use to us for the moment."
" I fail to see how you could have done more."
" On observing the cab I should have instantly
turned and walked in the other direction. I should
then at my leisure have hired a second cab and fol-
lowed the first at a respectful distance, or, better
still, have driven to the Northumberland Hotel and
waited there. When our unknown had followed
Baskerville home we should have had the oppor-
tunity of playing his own game upon himself, and
seeiiig where he made Ux. As it ie^ by an indiscreet
55
THE HOUND OF THE BACKERVILLES
eagerness, which was taken advantage of with ex-
traordinary quickness and energy by our opponent,
we have betrayed ourselves and lost our man."
We had been sauntering slowly down Regent
Street during this conversation, and Dr. Mortimer,
with his companion, had long vanished in front of
us.
" There is no object in our following them," said
Holmes. " The shadow has departed and will not
return. We must see what further cards we have
in our hands, and play them with decision. Could
you swear to that man's face within the cab? "
" I could swear only to the beard."
" And so could I — from which I gather that in all
probability it was a false one. A clever man upon
so delicate an errand has no use for a beard save to
conceal his features. Come in here, Watson! "
He turned into one of the district messenger of-
fices, where he was warmly greeted by the manager.
" Ah, Wilson, I see you have not forgotten the
little case in which I had the good fortune to help
you? "
" No, sir, indeed I have not. You saved my
good name, and perhaps my life."
" My dear fellow, you exaggerate. I have some
recollection, Wilson, that you had among your boys
a lad named Cartwright, who showed some ability
during the investigation."
" Yes, sir, he is still with us."
" Could you ring him up? — thank you! And I
S6
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE
should be glad to have change of this five-pound
note."
A lad of fourteen, with a bright, keen face, had
obeyed the summons of the manager. He stood
now gazing with great reverence at the famous de-
tective.
" Let me have the Hotel Directory," said
Holmes. "Thank you! Now, Cartwright, there
are the names of twenty-three hotels here, all in the
immediate neighbourhood of Charing Cross. Do
you see? "
" Yes, sir."
" You will visit each of these in turn."
" Yes, sir."
" You will begin in each case by giving the out-
side porter one shilling. Here are twenty-three
shillings."
" Yes, sir."
" You will tell him that you want to see the waste
paper of yesterday. You will say that an important
telegram has miscarried and that you are looking
for it. You understand? "
" Yes, sir."
" But what you are really looking for is the cen-
tre page of the Times with some holes cut in it with
scissors. Here is a copy of the Times. It is this
page. You could easily recognise it, could you
not? "
" Yes, sir."
" In each case the outside porter will send for
57
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEt
the hall porter, to whom also you will give a shil-
ling. Here are twenty-three shillings. You will
then learn in possibly twenty cases out of the
twenty-three that the waste of the day before has
been burned or removed. In the three other cases
you will be shown a heap of paper and you will look
for this page of the Times among it. The odds are
enormously against your finding it. " There are ten
shillings over in case of emergencies. Let me have
a report by wire at Baker Street before evening.
And now, Watson, it only remains for us to find out
by wire the identity of the cabman. No. 2704, and
then we will drop into one of the Bond Street pict-
ure galleries and fill in the time until we are due at
the hotel."
S8
V
Three Broken Threads
SHERLOCK HOLMES had, in a very re-
markable degree, the power of detaching his
mind at will. For two hours the strange busi-
ness in which we had been involved appeared to be
forgotten, and he was entirely absorbed in the pict-
ures of the modern Belgian masters. He would
talk of nothing but art, of which he had the crudest
ideas, from our leaving the gallery until we found
ourselves at the Northumberland Hotel.
" Sir Henry Baskerville is upstairs expecting
you," said the clerk. " He asked me to show you
up at once when you came."
" Have you any objection to my looking at your
register? " said Holmes.
" Not in the least."
V The book showed that two names had been added
'after that of Baskerville. One was Theophilus
Johnson and family, of Newcastle; the other Mrs.
Oldmore and maid, of High Lodge, Alton.
" Surely that must be the same Johnson whom I
used to know," said Holmes to the porter. " A
lawyer, is he not, grey-headed, and walks with a
limp? "
59
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
" No, sir, this is Mr. Johnson, the coal-owner, a
very active gentleman, not older than yourself."
" Surely you are mistaken about his trade? "
" No, sir; he has used this hotel for many years,
and he is very well known to us."
" Ah, that settles it. Mrs. Oldmore, too; I seem
to remember the name. Excuse my curiosity, but
often in calling upon one friend one finds another."
" She is an invalid lady, sir. Her husband was
once Mayor of Gloucester. She always comes to
us when she is in town."
" Thank you ; I am afraid I cannot claim her ac-
quaintance. We have established a most important
fact by these questions, Watson," he continued, in a
low voice, as we went upstairs together. "We
know now that the people who are so interested in
our friend have not settled down in his own hotel.
That means that while they are, as we have seen,
very anxious to watch him they are equally anxious
that he should not see them. Now, this is a most
suggestive fact."
" What does it suggest? "
" It suggests — halloa, my dear fellow, what on
earth is the matter? "
As we came round the top of the staiis we had
run up against Sir Henry Baskerville himself. His
face was flushed with anger, and he held an old and
dusty boot in one of his hands. So furious was he
that he was hardly articulate, and when he did speak
it was in a much broader and more Western dialect
60
THREE BROKEN THREADS
than any which we had heard from him in the morn-
ing.
" Seems to me they are playing me for a sucker
in this h6tel," he cried. "They'll find they've
started in to monkey with the wrong man unless
they are careful. By thunder, if that chap can't find
my missino- boot there will be trouble. I can take
a joke with the best, Mr. Holmes, but they've got a
bit over the mark this time."
" Still looking for your boot? "
" Yes, sir, and mean to find it."
" But, surely, you said that it was a new brown
boot? "
'• So it was, sir. And now it's an old black
one."
" What! you don't mean to say ? "
" That's just what I do mean to say. I only had
three pairs in the world — the new brown, the old
black, and the patent leathers, which I am wearing.
Last night they took one of my brown ones, and
to-day they have sneaked one of the black. Well,
have you got it? Speak out, man, and don't stand
staring! "
An agitated German waiter had appeared upon
the scene.
" No, sir; I have made inquiry all over the hotel,
but I can hear no word of it."
" Well, either that boot comes back before sun-
down or I'll see the manager and tell him that I go
right straight out of this hotel."
6l
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEf
" It shall be found, sir — I promise you that if you
will have a little patience it will be found."
" Mind it is, for it's the last thing of mine that
I'll lose in this den of thieves. Well, well, Mr.
Holmes, you'll excuse my troubling you about such
a trifle "
" I think it's well worth troubling about."
" Why, you look very serious over it."
" How do you explain it? "
" I just don't attempt to explain it. It seems the
very maddest, queerest thing that ever happened to
me.
"The queerest perhaps " said Holmes,
thoughtfully.
" What do you make of it yourself? "
" Well, I don't profess to understand it yet This
case of yours is very complex, Sir Henry. When
taken in conjunction with your uncle's death I am
not sure that of all the five hundred cases of capital
importance which I have handled there is one which
cuts so deep. But we hold several threads in our
hands, and the odds are that one or other of them
guides us to the truth. We may waste time in fol-
lowing the wrong one, but sooner or later we must
come upon the right."
We had a pleasant luncheon in which little was
said of the business which had brought us together.
It was in the private sitting-room to which we after-
wards repaired that Holmes asked Baskerville what
were his intentions.
62
THREE BROKEN THREADS
"To go to Baskerville Hall."
"And when?"
' ' At the end of the week. ' '
" On the whole," said Holmes, "I think that your
decision is a wise one. I have ample evidence that
you are being dogged in London, and amid the mill-
ions of this great city it is difficult to discover who
these people are or what their object can be. If
their intentions are evil they might do you a rhis-
chief, and we should be powerless to prevent it.
You did not know, Dr. Mortimer, that you were
followed this morning from my house? " "
Dr. Mortimer started violently.
' ' Followed ! By whom ? ' '
" That, unfortunately, is what I cannot tell you.
Have you among your neighbours or acquaintances
on Dartmoor any man with a black, full beard? "
"No — or, let me see — why, yes. Barrymore, Sir
Charles's butler, is a man with a full, black beard."
' ' Ha ! Where is Barrymore ? ' '
" He is it. charge of the Hall. "
"We had best ascertain if he is really there, or if
by any possibility he might be in I<ondon."
" How can you do that ? ' '
"Give me a telegraph form. 'Is all ready for Sir
Henry ? ' That will do. Address to Mr. Barry-
more, Baskerville Hall. What is the nearest tele-
graph-office? Grimpen. Very good, we will send
a second wire to the post-master, Grimpen : ' Tele-
gram to Mr. Barrymore, to be delivered into his
63
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
own hand. If absent, please return wire to Sir
Henry Baskerville, Northumberland Hotel.' That
should let us know before evening whether Barry-
more is at his post in Devonshire or not."
" That's so," said Baskerville, " By the way, Dr.
Mortimer, who is this Barrymore, anyhow? "
" He is the son of the old caretaker, who is dead.
They have looked after the Hall for four generations
now. So far as I know, he and his wife are as re-
spectable a couple as any in the county."
" At the same time," said Baskerville, " it's clear
enough that so long as there are none of the family
at the Hall these people have a mighty fine home
and nothing to do."
" That is true."
" Did Barrymore profit at all by Sir Charles's
will? " asked Holmes.
" He and his wife had five hundred pounds
each."
" Ha! Did they know that they would receive
this? "
" Yes; Sir Charles was very fond of talking about
the provisions of his will."
" That is very interesting."
" I hope," said Dr. Mortimer, " that you do not
look with suspicious eyes upon everyone who re-
ceived a legacy from Sir Charles, for I also had a
thousand pounds left to me."
" Indeed! And anyone else? "
" There were many insignificant sums to individ-
64
THREE BROKEN THREADS
uals, and a large number of public charities. The
residue all went to Sir Henry."
" And how much was the residue? "
" Seven hundred and forty thousand pounds."
Holmes raised his eyebrows in surprise. " I had
no idea that so gigantic a sum was involved," said
he.
" Sir Charles had the reputation of being rich, but
we did not know how very rich he was until we
came to examine his securities. The total value of
the estate was close on to a million."
" Dear me! It is a stake for which a man might
well play a desperate game. And one more ques-
tion, Dr. Mortimer. Supposing that anything
happened to our young friend here — ^you will for-
give the unpleasant hypothesis! — who would inherit
the estate? "
" Since Rodger Baskerville, Sir Charles's younger
brother, died unmarried, the estate would descend
to the Desmonds, who are distant cousins. James
Desmond is an elderly clergyman in Westmorland."
" Thank you. These details are all of great in-
terest. Have you met Mr. James Desmond? "
" Yes; he once came down to visit Sir Charles.
He is a man of venerable appearance and of saintly
life. I remember that he refused to accept any set-
tlement from Sir Charles, though he pressed it upon
him."
" And this man of simple tastes would be the heir
to Sir Charles's thousands."
65
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" He would be the heir to the estate, because
that is entailed. He would also be the heir to the
money unless it were willed otherwise by the pres-
ent owner, who can, of course, do what he likes
with it."
" And have you made your will. Sir Henry? "
" No, Mr. Holmes, I have not. I've had no
time, for it was only yesterday that I learned how
matters stood. But in any case I feel that the
money should go with the title and estate. That
was my poor uncle's idea. How is the owner going
to restore the glories of the Baskervilles if he has
not money enough to keep up the property?
House, land, and dollars must go together."
" Quite so. Well, Sir Henry, I am of one mind
with you as to the advisability of your going down
to Devonshire without delay. There is only one
provision which I must make. You certainly must
not go alone." _,
" Dr. Mortimer returns with me."
" But Dr. Mortimer has his practice to attend to,
and his house is miles away from yours. With all
the good will in the world, he may be unable to
help you. No, Sir Henry, you must take with you
someone, a trusty man, who will be always by your
side."
" Is it possible that you could come yourself, Mr.
Holmes? "
" If matters came to a crisis I should endeavour
to be present in person; but you can understand
66
THREE 3ROKEN THREADS
that, with my extensive consuUing practice and
with the constant appeals which reach me from
many quarters, it is impossible for me to be absent
from London for an indefinite time. At the pres-
ent instant one of the most revered names in Eng-
land is being besmirched by a blackmailer, and only
I. can stop a disastrous scandal. You will see how
impossible it is for me to go to Dartmoor."
" Whom would yqu recommend, then? "
Holmes laid his hand upon my arm.
" If my friend would undertake it there is no man
who is better worth having at your side when you
are in a tight place. No one can say so more con-
fidently than I."
The proposition took me completely by surprise,
but before I had time to answer, Baskerville seized
me by the hand and wrung it heartily.
" Well, now, that is real kind of you. Dr. Wat-
son," said he. " You see how it is with me, and
you know just as much about the matter as I do.
If you will come down to Baskerville Hall and see
me through I'll never forget it."
The promise of adventure had always a fascina-
tion for me, and I was complimented by the words
of Holmes and by the eagerness with which the
baronet hailed me as a companion.
" I will come, with pleasure," said I. " I do not
know how I could employ my time better."
" And you will report very carefully to me," said
Holmes. "When a crisis comes, as it will do, 1
67
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
will direct how you shall act. I suppose that by
Saturday all might be ready? "
" Would that suit Dr. Watson? "
" Perfectly."
" Then on Saturday, unless you hear to the con-
trary, we shall meet at the 10.30 train from Pad-
dington."
We had risen to depart when Baskerville gave
a cry of triumph, and diving into one of the corners
of the room he drew a brown boot from under a
cabinet.
" My missing boot! " he cried.
" May all our difficulties vanish as easily! " said
Sherlock Holmes.
" But it is a very singular thing," Dr. Mortimer
remarked. " I searched this room carefully before
lunch."
" And so did I," said Baskerville. " Every inch
of it."
" There was certainly no boot in it then."
" In that case the waiter must have placed it there
while we were lunching."
The German was sent for, but professed to know
nothing of the matter, nor could any inquiry clear
it up. Another item had been added to that con-
stant and apparently purposeless series of small mys-
teries which had succeieded each other so rapidly.
Setting aside the whole grim story of Sir Charles's
death, we had a line of inexplicable incidents all
within the limits of two days, which included the
68
THREE BROKEN THREADS
receipt of the printed letter, the black-bearded spy
in the hansom, the loss of the new brown boot, the
loss of the old black boot, and now the return of
the new brown boot. Holmes sat in silence in the
cab as we drove back to Baker Street, and I knew
from his drawn brows and keen face that his mind.,
like my own, was busy in endeavouring to frame
some scheme into which all these strange and ap-
parently disconnected episodes could be fitted. All
afternoon and late into the evening he sat lost in
tobacco and thought.
Just before dinner two telegrams were handed in.
The first ran:—
" Have just heard that Barrymore is at the Hall.
— Baskerville." The second: —
" Visited twenty-three hotels as directed, but
sorry to report unable to trace cut sheet of Times.
— Cartwright."
" There go two of my threads, Watson. There
is nothing more stimulating than a case where every-
thing goes against you. We must cast round for
another scent."
" We have still the cabman who drove the spy."
" Exactly. I have wired to get his name and
address from the Official Registry. I should not.
be surprised if this were an answer to my question."
The ring at the bell proved to be something even
more satisfactory than an answer, however, for the
door opened and a »rough-looking fellow entered
who was evidently the man himself.
69
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" I got a message from the head office that a gent
at this address had been inquiring for 2,704," said
he. " I've driven my cab vhis seven years and never
a word of complaint. I came here straight from the
Yard to ask you to your face what you had against
me.
" I have nothing in the world against you, my
good man," said Holmes. " On the contrary, I
have half a sovereign for you if you will give me
a clear answer to my questions."
" Well, I've had a good day and no mistake," said
the cabman, with a grin. " What was it you want-
ed to ask, sir? " '
" First of all your name and address, in case I
want you again."
"John Clayton, 3, Turpey Street, the Borough.
My" cab is out of Shipley's Yard, near Waterloo
Station."
Sherlock Holmes made a note of it.
" Now, Clayton, tell me all about the fare who
came and watched this house at ten o'clock this
morning and afterwards followed the two gentle-
men down Regent Street."
The man looked surprised and a little embar-
rassed. "Why, there's no good my telling you
things, for you seem to know as much as I do al-
ready," said he. " The truth is that the gentleman
told me that he was a detective and that I was to
say nothing about him to anyone."
" My good fellow, this is a very serious business,
70
THREE BROKEN THREADS
and you may find yourself in a pretty bad position
if you try to hide anything from me. You say that
your fare told you that he was a detective? "
" Yes, he did."
" When did he say this? "
" When he left me."
" Did he say anything more? "
" He mentioned his name."
Holmes cast a swift glance of triumph at me.
" Oh, he mentioned his name, did he? That was
imprudent. What was the name that he men-
tioned? "
" His name," said the cabman, " was Mr. Sher-
lock Holmes."
Never have I seen my friend more completely
taken aback than by the cabman's reply. For an
instant he sat in silent amazement. Then he burst
into a hearty laugh.
"A touch, Watson — an undeniable touch!" said
he. " I feel a foil as quick and supple as my own.
He got home upon me very prettily that time. So
his name was Sherlock Holmes, was it? "
" Yes, sir, that was the gentleman's name."
" Excellent! Tell me where you picked him up
and all that occurred."
" He hailed me at half-past nine in Trafalgar
Square. He said that he was a detective, and he
offered me two guineas if I would do exactly what
he wanted all day and ask no questions. I was glad
enough to agree. First we drove down to the Nof-
71
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
thumberland Hotel and waited there until two
gentlemen came out and took a cab from the rank.
We followed their cab until it pulled up somewhere
near here."
" This very door," said Holmes.
" Well, I couldn't be sure of that, but I daresay
my fare knew all about it. We pulled up half-way
down the street and waited an hour and a half.
Then the two gentlemen passed us, walking, and we
followed down Baker Street and along "
" I know," said Holmes.
" Until we got three-quarters down - Regent
Street. Then my gentleman threw up the trap, and
he cried that I should drive right away to Waterloo
Station as hard as I could go. I whipped up the
mare and we were there under the ten minutes.
Then he paid up his two guineas, like a good one,
and away he went into the station. Only just as he
was leaving he turned round and he said: ' It might
interest you to know that you have been driving
Mr. Sherlock Holmes.' That's how I come to
know the name."
" I see. And you saw no more of him? "
" Not after he went into the station."
"And how would you describe Mr. Sherlock
Holmes? "
The cabman scratched his head. "Well, he
wasn't altogether such an easy gentleman to de-
scribe. I'd put him at forty years of age, and he
was of a middle height, two or three inches shorter
n
THREE BROKEN THREADS
than you, sir. He was dressed like a toff, and he
had a black beard, cut square at the end, and a pale
face. I don't know as I could say more than
that."
" Colour of his eyes? "
" No, I can't say that."
" Nothing more that you can remember? "
" No, sir; nothing."
" Well, then, here is your half-sovereign. There's
another one waiting for you if you can bring any
more information. Good night ! "
" Good night, sir, and thank you! "
John Clayton departed chuckling, and Holmes
turned to me with a shrug of the shoulders and a
rueful smile.
" Snap goes our third thread, and we end where
we began," said he. "The cunning rascal! He
knew our number, knew that Sir Henry Baskerville
had consulted me, spotted who I was in Regent
Street, conjectured that I had got the number of
the cab and would lay my hands on the driver, and
so sent back this audacious message. I tell you,
Watson, this time we have got a foeman who is
worthy of our steel. I've been checkmated in
London. I can only wish you better luck in
Devonshire. But I'm not easy in my mind about
it."
" About what? "
"About sending you. It's an ugly business,
Watson, an ugly, dangerous business, and the more
73
THE HOU,ND OF THE BASKERVILLES
I see of it the less I like it. Yes, my dear fellow,
you may laugh, but I give you my word that I shall
be very glad to have you back safe and sound in
Baker Street once more."
74
VI
Basker-ville Hall
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE and Dr. Mor-,
timer were ready upon the appointed day,
and we started as arranged for Devonshire.
Mr. Sherlock Holmes drove with me to the station
and gave me his last parting injunctions and advice.
" I will not bias your mind by suggesting theories
or suspicions, Watson," said he; " I wish you simply
to report facts in the fullest possible manner to me,
and you can leave me to do the theorizing."
" What sort of facts? " I asked.
" Anything which may seem to have a bearing
however indirect upon the case, and especially the
relations between young Baskerville and his neigh-
bours or any fresh particulars concerning the death
of Sir Charles. I have made some inquiries myself
in the last few days, but the results have, I fear, been
negative. One thing only appears to be certain,
and that is that Mr. James Desmond, who is the
next heir, is an elderly gentleman of a very amiable
disposition, so that this persecution does not arise
from him. I really think that we may eliminate
him entirely from our calculations. There remain
the people who will actually surround Sir Henry
Baskerville upon the moor."
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
" Would it not be well in the first place to get
rid of this Barrymore couple? "
" By no means. You could not make a greater
mistake. If they are innocent it would be a cruel
injustice, and if they are guilty we should be giving
up all chance of bringing it home to them. No, no,
we will preserve them upon our list of suspects.
Then there is a groom at the Hall, if I remember
right. T. here are two moorland farmers. There is
our friend Dr. Mortimer, whom I believe to be en-
tirely honest, and there is his wife, of whom we
know nothing. There is this naturalist Stapleton,
and there is his sister, who is said to be a young
lady of attractions. There is Mr. Frankland, of
Lafter Hall, who is also an unknown factor, and
there are one or two other neighbours. These are
the folk who must be your very special study."
" I will do my best."
" You have arms, I suppose? "
" Yes, I thought it as well to take them."
" Most certainly. Keep your revolver near you
night and day, and never relax your precautions."
Our friends had already secured a first-class car-
riage, and were waiting for us upon the platform.
" No, we have no news of any kind," said Dr.
Mortimer, in answer to my friend's questions. " I
can swear to one thing, and that is that we have
not been shadowed during the last two days. We
have never gone out without keeping a sharp watcb,
and no one could have escaped our notice."
76
BASKERVILIE HALL
" You have always kept together, I presume? "
" Except yesterday afternoon. I usually give up
one day to pure amusement when I come to town,
so I spent it at the Museum of the College of Sur
geons."
" And I went to look at the folk in the park,"
said Baskerville. " But we had no trouble of any
kind."
" It was imprudent, all the same," said Holmes,
shaking his head and looking very grave. " I beg.
Sir Henry, that you will not go about alone. Some
great misfortune will befall you if you do. Did you
get your other boot? "
" No, sir, H is gone for ever."
" Indeed. That is very interesting. Well, good^
bye," he added, as the train began to glide down
the platform. " Bear in mind. Sir Henry, one of
the phrases in that queer old legend which Dr. Mor-
timer has read to us, and avoid the moor in those
hours of darkness when the powers of evil are ex-
alted."
I looked back at the platform when we had left
it far behind, and saw the tall, austere figure of
Holmes standing motionless and gazing after us.
The journey was a swift and pleasant one, and
I spent it in making the more intimate acquaintance
of my two companions and in playing with Dr. Mor-
timer's spaniel. In a very few hours the brown
earth had become ruddy, the brick had changed to
giSKuVsi 3&A icd ccfws QtsatA in w^-^iedgcxl fii^lds
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
where the lush grasses and more luxuriant vegeta-
tion spoke of a richer, if a damper, climate. Young
Baskerville stared eagerly out of the window, and
cried aloud with delight as he recognised the famil-
iar features of the Devon scenery.
"I've been over a good part of the world since
I left it. Dr. Watson," said he; " but I have never
seen a plac e^to compare withi t. ' '
' ' I never saw a Devonshire man who did not
swear by his county," I remarked.
" It depends upon the breed of men quite as much
as on the county," said Dr. Mortimer. "A glance
at our friend here reveals the rounded head of the
Celt, which carries inside it the Celtic enthusiasm
and power of attachment. Poor Sir Charles's head
was of a very rare type, half Gaelic, half Ivernian
in its characteristics. But you were very young
when you last saw Baskerville Hall, were you not ?"
' ' I was a boy in my 'teens at the time of my
father's death, and had never seen the Hall, for he
lived in a little cottage on the South Coast. Thence
I went straight to a friend in America. I tell you
it is all as new to me as it is to Dr. Watson, and I'm
as keen as possible to see the moor."
"Are you? Then your wish is easily granted, for
there is your first sight of the moor, ' ' said Dr. Mor-
timer, pointing out of the carriage window.
Over the green squares of the fields and the low
curve of a wood there rose in the distance a grey,
melancholy hill, with a strange jagged summit, dim
78
BASKERVILLE HALL
and vague in the distance, like some fantastic land-
scape in a dream. Baskerville sat for a long time,
his eyes fixed upon it, and I read upon his eager
face how much it meant to him, this first' sight of
that strange spot where the men of his blood had
held sway so long and left their mark so deep.
There he sat, with his tweed suit and his American
accent, in the corner of a prosaic railway-carriage,
and yet as I looked at his dark and expressive face
I felt more than ever how true a descendant he was
of that long line of high-blooded, fiery, and master-
ful men. There were pride, valour, and strength in
his thick brows, his sensitive nostrils, and his large
hazel eyes. If on that forbidding moor a difficult
and dangerous quest should lie before us, this was
at least a comrade for whom one might venture to
take a risk with the certainty that he would bravely
share it.
The train pulled up at a small wayside station and
we all descended. Outside, beyond the low, white
fence, a wagonette with a pair of cobs w as waiting.
Our coming was evidently a great^event , for station-
master and porters clustered round us to carry out
our luggage. It was a sweet, simple country spot,
but I was surprised to observe that by the gate there
stood two soldierly men in dark uniforms, who
leaned upon their short rifles and glanced keenly at
us as we passed. The coachman, a hard-faced,
gnarled little fellow, saluted Sir Henry Baskerville,
and in a few minutes we were flying swiftly down
19
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
the broad, white road. Rolling pasture lands
curved upwards on either side of us, and old gabled
houses peeped out from amid the thick green foli-
age, but behind the peaceful and sunlit country-side
there rose ever, dark against the evening sky, the
long, gloomy curve of the moor, broken by the
jagged and sinister hills.
'' The wagonette swung round into a side road,
and we curved upwards through deep lanes worn by
centuries of wheels, high banks on either side, heavy
with dripping moss and fleshy hart's-tongue ferns.
Bronzing bracken and mottled bramble gleamed in
the light of the sinking sun. Still steadily rising,
we passed over a narrow granite bridge, and skirted
a noisy stream which gushed swiftly down, foaming
and roaring amid the grey boulders. Both road
and stream wound up through a valley dense with
scrub oak and fir. At every turning Baskerville
gave an exclamation of delight, looking eagerly
about him and asking countless questions. To his
eyes all seemed beautiful, but to me a tinge of mel-
ancholy lay upon the country-side, which bore so
clearly the mark of the waning year. Yellow leaves
carpeted the lanes and fluttered down upon us as
we passed. The rattle of our wheels died away as
we drove through drifts of rotting vegetation — sad
gifts, as it seemed to me, for Nature to throw be-
fore the carriage of the returning heir of the Basker-
villes.
" Halloa! " cried Dr. Mortimer, " what is this? "
80
BASKERVILLE HALL
A steep curve of heath-clad land, an outlying spur
of the moor, lay in front oFus. On the summit,
hard and clear like an equestrian statue upon its
pedestal, was a mounted soldier, dark and stern, his
rifle poised ready over his forearm. He was watch-
ing the road along which we travelled.
" What is this, Perkins? " asked Dr. Mortimer.
Our driver half turned in his seat.
" There's a convict escaped from Princetown, sir.
He's been out three days now, and the warders
watch every road and every station, but they've had
no sight of him yet. The farmers about here don't
like it, sir, and that's a fact."
" Well, I understand that they get five pounds if
they can give information."
" Yes, sir, but the chance of five pounds is but a
poor thing compared to the chance of having your
throat cut. You see, it isn't like any ordinary con-
vict. This is a man that would stick at nothing." '
"Who is he, then?" -^ '
" It is Selden, the Netting Hill murderer."
I remembered the case well, for it was one in
which Holmes had taken an interest on account of
the peculiar ferocity of the crime and the wanton
brutality which had marked all the actions of the
assassin. The commutation of his death sentence
had been due to some doubts as to his complete
sanity, so atrociou^«as his conduct. Our wagon-
ette had topped^a rfea and in front oFus rose the
buge expanse of ureTaoor, mottled with gnarled and
8i
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
craggy cairns and tors. A cold wind swept down
from it and set us shivering. Somewhere there, on
that desolate plain, was lurking this fiendish man,
hiding in a burrow like a wild beast, his heart full of
malignancy against the whole race which had cast
him out. It needed but this to complete the grim
suggestiveness of the barren waste, the chilling
wind, and the darkling sky. Even Baskerville fell
silent and pulled his overcoat more closely around
him.
We had left the fertile .country behind and be-
neath us. We looked back on it now, the slanting
rays of a low sun turning the streams to threads oi
gold and glowing on the red earth new turned by
the plough and the broad tangle of the woodlands.
The road in front of us grew bleaker and wilder
over huge russet and olive slopes, sprinkled with
giant boulders. Now and then we passed a moor-
land cottage, walled and roofed with stone, with no
creeper to break its harsh outline. Suddenly we
looked down into a cup-like depression, patched
with stunted oaks and firs which had been twisted
and bent by the fury of years of storm. Two high,
narrow towers rose over the trees. The driver
pointed with his whip.
V " Baskerville Hall," said he.
Its master had risen and was staring with flushed
cheeks and shining eyes. A few minutes later we
had reached the lodge-gates, a maze of fantastic-
tracery in wrought iron, with weather-bitten pillars
82
The driver pointed with his whip. " Baskerville
Hall," said he.
BASKERVILLE HALL
on either side, blotched with lichens, and surmount-
ed by the boars' heads of the Baskervilles. The
lodge was a ruin of black granite and bared ribs of
rafters, but facing it was a new building, half con-
structed, the first fruit of Sir Charles's South Afri-
can gold.
Through the gateway we passed into the avenue,
where the wheels were again hushed amid the leaves,
and the old trees shot their branches in a sombre
tunnel over our heads. Baskerville shuddered as
he looked up the long, dark drive to where the
house glimmered like a ghost at the farther end.
" Was it here? " he asked, in a low voice.
" No, no, the Yew Alley is on the other side."
The young heir glanced round with a gloomy
face.
"It's no wonder my uncle felt as if trouble were
coming on him in such a place as this," said he.
"It's enough to scare any man. I'll have a row of
electric lamps up here ifiside of six months, and you
won't know it again, with a thousand candle-power
Swan and Edison right here in front of the hall
door."
The avenue opened into a broad expanse of turf,
and the house lay before us. In the fading light
I could see that the centre was a heavy block of
building from which a porch projected. The whole
front was draped in ivy, with a patch clipped bare
here and there where a window or a coat-of-arms
broke through the dark veil. From this central
83
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
block rose the twin towers, ancient, crenelate". anc
pierced with many loopholes To right and left oi
the turrets were more modern wings of black gran-
ite. A dull light shone through heavy mullioned
windows, and from the high chimneys which rose
from the steep, high-angled roof there sprang a sin-
gle black column of smoke.
" Welcome, Sir Henry ! Welcome, to BaSker-
ville Halll "
A tall man had stepped from the shadow of the
porch to open the door of the wagonette^ The
figure of a woman was silhouetted against the yel-
low light of the hall. She came out and helped the
man to hand down our bags.
" You don't mind my driving straight home. Sir
Henry? " said Dr. Mortimer " My wife is expect-
ing me."
" Surely you will stay and have some dinner? "
" No, I must go. I shall probably find some
work awaiting me. I would stay to show you ovei
the house, but Barrymore will be a ^etter guide than
I. Good-bye, and never hesitate night or day to
send for me if I can be of service."
The wheels died away down the drive while Sii
Henry and I turned into the hall, and the dooi
clanged heavily behind us. It was a fine apartment
in which we found ourselves, large, lofty, and heav-
ily raftered with huge balks of age-blackened oak.
In the great old-fashioned fireplace behind the high
iron dogs a log-fire crackled and snappea. Sir
84
BASKERVILLE HALL
Henry and I held out our hands to it, for we wera
numb from our long drive. Then we gazed round
us at the high, thin window of old stained glass, the
oak panelling, the stags' heads, the coats-of-arms
upon the walls, alt dim and sombre in the subdued
light of the central lamp,
" It's just as I imagined it," said Sir Henry. "Is
it not the very picture of an old family home ? To
think that this should be the same hall in which for
five hundre I years my people have lived. It strikes
me solemn to think of it."
I saw his dark face lit up with boyish enthusiasm
as he gazed about him. The light beat upon him
where he stood, but long shadows trailed down the
walls and hung like a black canopy above him.
Barrymore had returned from taking our luggage
to our rooms. He stood in front of us now with
the subdued manner of a well-trained servant. He
was a remarkable-looking man, tall, handsome, with
a square black beard, and pale, distinguished feat-
ures.
"Woiild you wish dinner to be served at once,
sir?"
"Is it ready?"
" In a very few minutes, sir. You will find hot
water in your rooms. My wife and I will be happy.
Sir Henry, to stay with you until you have made
your fresh arrangements, but you will understand
that under the new conditions this house will re-
«[uirc a considerable staff."
J*5
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILL^ES
" What new conditions? "
" I only meant, sir, that Sir Charles led a very
retired life, and we were able to look after his wants.
You would, natiirally, wish to have more company,
and so you will need changes in your household."
" Do you mean that your wife and you wish to
leave? "
" Only when it is quite convenient to you, sir."
" But your family have been with us for several
generations, have they not? I should be sorry to
begin my life here by breaking an old family con-
nection."
I seemed to discern some signs of emotion upon
the butler's white face.
" I feel that also, sir, and so does my wife. But
to ♦.ell the truth, sir, we were both very much at-
tached to Sir Charles, and his death gave us a shock
and made these surroundings very painful to us. I
fear that we shall never again be easy in our minds
at Baskerville Hall."
" But what do you intend to do? "
"I have no doubt, sir, that we shall succeed
in establishing ourselves in some business. Sir
Charles's generosity has given us the means to do
so. And now, sir, perhaps I had best show you to
your rooms."
A square balustraded gallery ran round the top
of the old hall, approached by a double stair. From
this central point two long corridors extended the
whole length of the building, from which all the
86
BASKERVILLE HALL
bedrooms opened. My own was in the same wing
as Baskerville's and almost next door to it. These
rooms appeared to be much more modern than the
central part of the house, and the bright paper and
numerous candles did something to remove the
sombre impression which our arrival had left upon
my mind.
But the dining-room which opened out of the hall
was a place of shaddw and gloom. It was a long
chamber with a step separating the dais where the
family sat from the lower portion reserved for their
dependents. At one end a minstrel's gallery over-
looked it. Black beams shot across above our
heads, with a smoke-darkened ceiling beyond them.
With rows of flaring torches to light it up, and th^
colour and rude hilarity of an old-time banquet, it
might have softened; but now, when two black-
clothed gentlemen sat in the little circle of light
thrown by a shaded lamp, one's voice became
hushed and one's spirit subdued. A dim line of
ancestors, in every variety of dress, from the Eliza-
bethan knight to the buck of the Regency, stared
down upon us and daunted us by their silent com-
pany. We talked little, and I for one was glad
when the meal was over and we were able to retire
into the modern billiard-room and smoke a cigar-
ette.
" My word, it isn't a very cheerful place," said
Sir Henry. " I suppose one can tone down to it,
but I feel a bit out of the picture at present. I
87
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
don't wonder that my uncle got a little jumpy if he
lived all alone in such a house as this. However, if
it suits you, we will retire early to-night, and per-
haps things may seem more cheerful in the morn-
mg.
I drew aside my curtains before I went to bed
and looked out from my window. It opened upon
the grassy space which lay in front of the hall door.
Beyond, two copses of trees moaned and swung in
a rising wind. A half moon broke through the rifts
of racing clouds. In its cold light I saw beyond the
trees a broken fringe of rocks, and the long, low
curve of the melancholy moor. I closed the cur-
tain, feeling that my last impression was in keeping
with the rest.
And yet it was not quite the last. I found myself
weary and yet wakeful, tossing restlessly from side
to side, seeking for the sleep which would not come.
Far away a chiming clock struck out the quarters
of the hours, but otherwise a deathly silence lay
upon the old house. And then suddenly, in the
very dead of the night, there came a sound to my
ears, clear, resonant, and unmistakable. It was the
sob of a woman, the muffled, strangling gasp of one
who is torn by an uncontrollable sorrow. I sat up
in bed and listened intently. The noise could not
have been far away and was certainly in the house.
For half an hour I waited with every nerve on the
alert, but there came no other sound save the chim-
ing tSook aaid tfoe rustle of the ivy on Ike wall.
8i
VII
The Stapletons of Merripit House
TiHE fresh beauty of the following morning
did something to efface fr om our minds
the grim and grey impression which had
been left upon both of us by our first experi-
ence of Baskerville Hall. As Sir Henry and I sat
at breakfast the sunlight flooded in through the
high Tn^iJjjnnpH windows, throwing watery patches
of colour from the coats of arms which covered
them. The dark panelling glowed like bronze in
the golden rays, and it was hard to realize that this
was indeed the chamber which had struck such a
gloom into our souls upon the evening before.
" I guess it is ourselves and not the house that
we have to blame! " said the baronet. " We were
tired with our journey and chilled by our drive, so
we took a grey view of the place. Now we are
fresh and well, so it is all cheerful once more."
" And yet it was not entirely a question of imag
ination," I answered. " Did you, for example, hap
pen to hear someone, a woman I think, sobbing in
the night? "
" That is curious, for I did when I was half asleep
{ancy that I heard something of the sort. I waited
89
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLKS
quite a time, but there was no more of it, so I con-
cluded that it was all a dream."
" I heard it distinctly, and I am sure that it was
really the sob of a woman."
" We must ask about this right away." He rang
the bell and asked Barrymore whether he could ac-
count for our experience. It seemed to me that
the pallid features of the butler turned a shade paler
still as he listened to his master's question.
"There are only two women in the house. Sir
Henry," he answered. " One is the scullery-maid,
who sleeps in the other wing. The other is my
wife, and I can answer for it that the sound could
not have come from her."
And yet he lied as he said it, for it chanced that
after breakfast I met Mrs. Barrymore in the long
corridor with the sun full upon her face. She was
a large, impassive, heavy-featured woman with a
stern set expression of mouth. But her tell-tale
eyes were red and glanced at me from between
swollen lids. It was she, then, who wept in the
night, and if she did so her husband must know it.
Yet he had taken the obvious risk of discovery in
declaring that it was not so. Why had he done
this? And why did she weep so bitterly? Already
round this pale-faced, handsome, black-bearded
man there was gathering an atmosphere of mystery
and of gloom. It was he who had been the first
to discover the body of Sir Charles, and we had
only his word for all the circumstances which led
90
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
Up to the old man's death. Was it possible that it
was Barrymore after all whom we had seen in the
cab in Regent Street? The beard might well have
been the same. The cabman had described a some-
what shorter man, but such an impression might,
easily have been erroneous. How could I settle thei
point for ever? Obviously the first thing to do was
to see the Grimpen postmaster, and find whether
the test telegram had really been placed in Barry-
more's own hands. Be the answer what it might,
I should at least have something to report to Sher-
lock Holmes.
Sir Henry had numerous papers to examine after
breakfast, so that the time was propitious for my
excursion. It was a pleasant walk of four miles
along the edge of the moor, leading me at last to a
small grey hamlet, in which two larger buildings,
which proved to be the inn and the house of Dr,
Mortimer, stood high above the rest. The post-
master, who was also the village grocer, had a clear
recollection of the telegram.
" Certainly, sir," said he, " I had the telegram
delivered to Mr. Barrymore exactly as directed."
" Who delivered it? "
" My boy here. James, you delivered that tele-
gram to Mr. Barrymbre at the Hall last week, did
you not? "
" Yes, father, I delivered it."
" Into his own hands? " I asked.
" Well, he was up in the loft at the time, so that
91
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
I could not put it into his own hands, but I gave
it into Mrs. Barrymore's hands, and she promised to
deliver it at once."
" Did you see Mr. Barrymore? "
" No, sir; I tell you he was in the loft."
" If you didn't see him, how do you know he was
in the loft?"
" Well, surely his own wife ought to know where
he is," said the postmaster, testily. " Didn't he get
the telegram? If there is any mistake it is for Mr
Barrymore himself to complain."
It seemed hopeless to pursue the inquiry any fan
ther, but it was clear that in spite of Holmes's ruse
we had no proof that Barrymore had not been in
London all the time. Suppose that it were so —
suppose that the same man had been the last who
had seen Sir Charles alive, and the first to dog the
new heir when he returned to England. What
then? Was he the agent of others or had he some
sinister design of liis own? What interest could he
have in persecuting the Baskerville family? I
thought of the strange warning clipped out of the
leading article of the Times. Was that his work or
was it possibly the doing of someone who was bent
upon counteracting his schemes? The only con-
ceivable motive was that which had been suggested
by Sir Henry, that if the family could be scared away
a comfortable and permanent home would be se-
cured for the Barrymores. But surely such an ex-
planation as that would be quite inadequate to
92
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
account for the deep and subtle scheming which
seemed to be weaving an invisible net round the
young baronet. Holmes himself had said that no
more complex case had come to him in all the long
series of his sensational investigations. I prayed,
as I walked back along the grey, lonely road, that
my friend might soon be freed from his preoccupa-
tions and able to come down to take this heavy
burden of responsibility from my shoulders.
Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the
sound of running feet behind me and by a voice
which called me by name. I turned, expecting to
see Dr. Mortimer, but to my surprise it was a
stranger who was pursuing me. He was a small,
slim, clean-shaven, prim-faced man, flaxen-haired
and lean-jawed, between thirty and forty years of
age, dressed in a grey suit and wearing a straw hat.
A tin box for botanical specimens hung over his
shoulder and he carried a green butterfly-net in one
of his hands.
" You will, I am sure, excuse my presumption,
Dr. Watson," said he, as he came panting up to
where I stood. " Here on the moor we are homely
folk and do not wait for formal introductions. You
may possibly have heard my name from our mutual
friend, Mortimer. I am Stapleton, of Merripit
House."
" Your net and bqx would have told me as much,"
said I, " for I knew that Mr. Stapleton was a nalr
uielist. But bow did you kaow oaei* '*-
93
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" I have been calling on Mortimer, and he pointed
you out to me from the window of his surgery as
you passed. As our road lay the same way I
thought that I would overtake you and introduce
myself. I trust that Sir Henry is none the worse
for his journey? "
" He is very well, thank you."
" We were all rather afraid that after the sad
death of Sir Charles the new baronet might refuse
to live here. It is asking much of a wealthy man
to come down and bury himself in a place of this
kind, but I need not tell you that it means a very
great deal to the country-side. Sir Henry has, I
suppose, no superstitious fears in the matter? "
" I do not think that it is likely."
" Of course you know the legend of the fiend dog
which haunts the family?"
" I have heard it."
" It is extraordinary how credulous the peasants
are about here ! Any number of them are ready to
swear that they have seen such a creature upon the
moor." He spoke with a smile, but I seemed to
read in his eyes that he took the matter more se-
riously. " The story took a great hold upon the
imagination of Sir Charles, and I have no doubt that
it led to his tragic end."
" But how? "
" His nerves were so worked up that the appear-
ance of any dog might have had a fatal effect upon
his diseased heart. I fancy that he really did see
94
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
something of the kind upon that last night in the
Yew Alley. I feared that some disaster might oc-
cur, for I was very fond of the old man, and I knew
that his heart was weak."
" How did you know that? "
" My friend Mortimer told me."
" You think, then, that some dog pursued Sir
Charles, and that he died of fright in consequence? "
" Have you any better explanation? "
" I have not come to any conclusion."
" Has Mr. Sherlock Holmes? "
The words took away my breath for an instant,
but a glance at the placid face and steadfast eyes of
my companion showed that no surprise was in-
tended.
" It is useless for us to pretend that we do not
know you. Dr. Watson," said he. " The records of
your detective have reached us here, and you could
not celebrate him without being known yourself.
When Mortimer told me your name he could not
deny your identity. If you are here, then it follows
that Mr. Sherlock Holmes is interesting himself in
the matter, and I am naturally curious to know what
view he may take."
" I am afraid that I cannot answer that question."
" May I ask if he is going to honour us with a
visit himself? "
" He cannot leave town at present. He has
other cases which engage his attention."
"What a pity! He might throw some light on
95
THE HOUND OF THK BASKERVILLES
that which is so dark to us. But as to your own
researches, if there is any possible way in which I
can be of service to you I trust that you will com-
mand me. If I had any indication of the nature
of your suspicions, or how you propose to investi-
gate the case, I might perhaps even now give you
some aid or advice."
" I assure you that I am simply here upon a visit
to my friend Sir Henry, and that I need no help of
any kind."
" Excellent! " said Stapleton. " You are per-
fectly right to be wary and discreet. I am justly
reproved for what I feel was an unjustifiable intru-
sion, and I promise you that I will not mention the
matter again."
We had come to a point where a narrow grassy
path struck off from the road and wound away
across the moor. A steep, boulder-sprinkled hill
lay upon the right which had in bygone days been
cut into a granite quarry. The face which was
turned towards us formed a dark cliff, with ferns
and brambles growing in its niches. From over a
distant rise there floated a grey plume of smoke.
" A moderate walk along this moor-path brings
us to Merripit House," said he. " Perhaps you will
spare an hour that I may have the pleasure of in-
troducing you to my sister."
My first thought was that I should be by Sir
Henry's side. But then I remembered the pile of
papers and bills with which his studv table was lit-
96
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
tered. It was certain that I could not help hin?
with those. And Holmes had expressly said that
I should study the neighbours upon the moor. I
accepted Stapleton's invitation, and we turned to-
gether down the path.
" It is a wonderful place, the moor," said he, look-
ing round over the undulating downs, long green
rollers, with crests of jagged granite foaming up
into fantastic surges. " You never tire of the moor.
You cannot think the wonderful secrets which it
contains. It is so vast, and so barren, and so mys-
terious."
" You know it well, then? "
" I have only been here two years. The residents
would call me a new comer. We came shortly af-
ter Sir Charles settled. But my tastes led me to
explore every part of the country round, and I
should think that there are few men who know it
better than I do."
" Is it so hard to know? "
"Very hard. You see, for example, this great
plain to the north here, with the queer hills break-
ing out of it. Do you observe anything remark-
able about that? "
" It would be a rare place for a gallop."
" You would naturally think so and the thought
has cost several their lives before now. You notice
those bright green spots scattered thickly ovet
it?"
" Yes, they seem more fertile than the rest."
91
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
Stapleton laughed.
" That is the great Grimpen Mire," said he. " A
false step yonder means death to man or beast.
Only yesterday I saw one of the; moor ponies wan-
der into it. He never came out. I saw his head
for quite a long time craning out of the bog-hole,
but it sucked him down at last. Even in dry sea-
sons it is a danger to cross it, but after these
autumn rains it is an awful place. And yet I can
find my way to the very heart of it and return alive.
By George, there is another of those miserable
ponies! "
Something brown was rolling and tossing among
the green sedges. Then a long, agonized, writhing
neck shot upwards and a dreadful cry echoed over
the moor. It turned me cold with horror, but my
companion's nerves seemed to be stronger than
mine.
"It's gone!" said he. "The mire has him.
Two in two days, and many more, perhaps, for they
get in the way of going there in the dry weather,
and never know the difference until the mire has
them in its clutch. It's a bad place, the great
Grimpen Mire."
" And you say you can penetrate it? "
" Yes, there are one or two jpaths which a very
active man can take. I have found them out."
" But why should you wish to go into so horrible
a place? "
"Well, you see the hills beyond? Th^ are
98
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
really islands cut off on all sides by the impassable
mire, which has crawled round them in the course
of years. That is where the rare plants and the but-
terflies are, if you have the wit to reach them."
" I shall try my luck some day."
H« looked at me with a surprised face.
" For God's sake put such an idea out of your
mind," said he. " Your blood would be upon my
head. I assure you that there would not be the
least chance of your coming back alive. It is only
by remembering certain complex landmarks that I
am able to do it."
" Halloa ! " I cried. " What is that? "
A long, low moan, indescribably sad, swept over
the moor. It filled the whole air, and yet it was
impossible to say whence it came. From a dull
murmur it swelled into a deep roar, and then sank
back into a melancholy, throbbing murmur once
again. Stapleton looked at me with a curious ex-
pression in his face.
"Queer place, the moor!" said he.
" But what is it? "
" The peasants say it is the Hound of the Basker-
villes calling for its prey. I've heard it once or
twice before, but never quite so loud."
I looked round, with a chill of fear in my heart,
at the huge swelling plain, mottled with the green
patches of rushes. Nothing stirred over the vast
expanse save a pair of ravens, which croaked loudly
from a tor behind us.
' 99
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" You are an educated man. You don't believe
such nonsense as that? " said I. " What do you
think is the cause of so strange a sound? "
" Bogs make queer noises sometimes. It's
the mud settling, or the water rising, or some-
thing."
" No, no, that was a living voice."
" Well, perhaps it was. Did you ever he ar a bit,
tern booming? "
" No, I never did."
" It's a very rare bird — practically extinct — in
England now, but all things are possible upon the
moor. Yes, I should not be surprised to learn that
what we have heard is the cry of the last of the
bitterns."
" It's the weirdest, strangest thing that ever I
heard in my life."
" Yes, it's rather an uncanny place altogether.
Look at the hill-side yonder. What do you make
of those? "
The whole steep slope was covered with grey cir-
cular rings of stone, a score of them at least.
" What are they? Sheep-pens? "
" No, they are the homes of our worthy ancestors.
Prehistoric man lived thickly on the moor, and as
no one in particular has lived there since, we find all
his little arrangements exactly as he left them.
These are his wigwams with the roofs off. You can
even see his hearth and his couch if you have the
curiosity to go inside."
100
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
" But it is quite a town. When was it inhab-
ited?"
" Neolithic man — no date."
"What did he do?"
" He grazed his cattle on these slopes, and he
learned to dig for tin when the bronze sword began
to supersede the stone axe. Look at the great
trench in the opposite hill. That is his mark. Yes,
you will find some very singular points about the
moor, Dr. Watson. Oh, excuse me an instant! It
is surely Cyclopides."
A small fly or moth had fluttered across our path,
and in an instant Stapleton was rushing with ex-
traordinary energy and speed in pursuit of it. To
my dismay the creature flew straight for the great
mire, and my acquaintance never paused for an in-
stant, bounding from tuft to tuft behind it, his green
net waving in the air. His grey clothes and jerky,
zigzag, irregular progress made him not unlike
some huge moth himself. I was standing watching
his pursuit with a mixture of admiration for his ex-
traordinary activity and fear lest he should lose his
footing in the treacherous mire, when I heard the
sound of steps, and turning round found a woman
near me upon the path. She had come from the
direction in which the plume of smoke indicated the
position of Merripit House, but the dip of the moor
had hid her until she was quite close.
I could not doubt that this was the Miss Staple-
ton of whom I had been told, since ladies of any sort
lOI
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
must be few upon the moor, and I remembered that
I had heard someone describe her as being a beauty.
The woman who approached me was certainly that,
and of a most uncommon type. There could not
have been a greater contrast between, brother and
sister, for Stapleton was neutral tinted, with light
hair and grey eyes, while she was darker than any
brunette whom I have seen in England — slim, ele-
gant, and tall. She had a proud, finely cut face, so
regular that it might have seemed impassive were
it not for the sensitive mouth and the beautiful dark,
eager eyes. With her perfect figure and elegant
dress she was, indeed, a strange apparition upon
a lonely moorland path. Her eyes were on her
brother as I turned, and then she quickened her pace
towards me. I had raised my hat, and was about
to make some explanatory remark, when her own
words turned all my thoughts into a new channel.
"Go back!" she said. "Go straight back to
London, instantly."
I could only stare at her in stupid surprise. Her
eyes blazed at me, and she tapped the ground im-
patiently with her foot.
" Why should I go back? " I asked.
" I cannot explain." She spoke in a low, eager
voice, with a curious lisp in her utterance. " But
for God's sake do what I ask you. Go back and
never set foot upon the moor again."
" But I have only just come."
"Man, man!" she cried. "Can you not tell
1 02
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
when a warning is for your own good? Go back to
London! Start to-night! Get away from this
place at all costs! Hush, my brother is coming!
Not a word of what I have said. Would you mind
getting that orchid for me among the mares-tails
yonder? We are very rich in orchids on the moor,
though, of course, you are rather late to see the
beauties of the place."
Stapleton had abandoned the chase and came
back to us breathing hard and flushed with his ex-
ertions.
"Halloa, Beryl!" said he, and it seemed to me
that the tone of his greeting was not altogether a
cordial one.
" Well, Jack, you are very hot."
" Yes, I was chasing a Cyclopides. He is very
rare and seldom found in the late autumn. What
a pity that I should have missed him! " He spoke
unconcernedly, but his small light eyes glanced in-
cessantly from the girl to me.
" You have introduced yourselves, I can see."
' " Yes. I was telling Sir Henry that it was rathet
late for him to see the true beauties of the
moor."
" Why, who do you think this is? "
, " I imagine that it must be Sir Henry Basket^
ville."
" No, no," said I. " Only a humble commoner;
tnit his friend. My name is Dr. Watson."
A flush of vexation passed over her expressive
103
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
face. " We have been talking at cross purposes,"
said she.
" Why, you had not very much time for talk,"
her brother remarked, with the same questioning
eyes.
" I talked as if Dr. Watson were a resident instead
of being merely a visitor," said she. " It cannot
much matter to him whether it is early or late for
the orchids. But you will come on, will you not,
and see Merripit House? "
A short walk brought us to it, a bleak moorland
bouse, once the farm of some grazier in the old
prosperous days, but now put into repair and turned
into a modem dwelling. An orchard surrounded
it, but the trees, as is usual upon the moor, were
stunted and nipped, and the ef]fect of the whole place
was mean and melancholy. We were admitted by
a strange wizened, rusty-coated old man servant,
who seemed in keeping with the house. Inside,
however, there were large rooms furnished with an
elegance in which I seemed to recognise the taste
of the lady. As I looked from their windows at the
interminable granite-flecked moor rolling unbroken
to the farthest horizon I could not but marvel at
what could have brought this highly educated
man and this beautiful woman to live in such a
place.
" Queer spot to choose, is it not? " said he, as if
in answer to my thought. " And yet we manage
to wakB toutttivcs fair^ bappy^ do we not, Bagl? *
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
" Quite happy," said she, but there was no ring
of conviction in her words.
" I had a school," said Stapleton. " It was in the
north country. The work to a man of my tempera-
ment was mechanical and uninteresting, but the
privilege of living with youth, of helping to mould
those young minds and of impressing them with
one's own character and ideals, was very dear to me.
However, the fates were against us. A serious epi-
demic broke out in the school and three of the boys
died. It never recovered from the blow, and much
of my capital was irretrievably swallowed up. And
yet, if it were not for the loss of the charming com-
panionship of the boys, I could rejoice over my own
misfortune, for, with my strong tastes for botany
and zoology, I find an unlimited field of work here,
and my sister is as devoted to Nature as I am. All
this. Dr. Watson, has been brought upon your head
by your expression as you surveyed the moor out
of our window."
" It certainly did cross my mind that it might be
a little dull^-less for you, perhaps, than for your
sister."
" No, no, I am never dull," said she, quickly.
" We have books, we have our studies, and we
have interesting neighbours. Dr. Mortimer is a
most learned man in his own line. Poor Sir Charles
was also an admirable companion. We knew him
well, and miss him more than I can tell. Do you
think that I should intrude if I were to call this af-
lOS
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
ternoon and make the acquaintance of Sir Hen-
ry?"
" I am sure that he would be delighted,"
" Then perhaps you would mention that I propose
to do so. We may in our humble way do some-
thing to make things more easy for him until he
becomes accustomed to his new surroundings. Will
you come upstairs, Dr. Watson, and inspect my col-
lection of lepidoptera? I think it is the most com-
plete one in the south-west of England. By the
time that you have looked through them lunch will
be almost ready."
But I was eager to get back to my charge. The
melancholy of the moor, the death of the unfortu-
nate pony, the weird sound which had been associ-
ated with the grim legend of the Baskervilles, all
these things tinged my thoughts with sadness.
Then on the top of these more or less vague im-
pressions there had come the definite and distinct
warning of Miss Stapleton, delivered with such in-
tense earnestness that I could not doubt that some
grave and deep reason lay behind it. I resisted all
pressure to stay for lunch, and I set off at once upon
my return journey, taking the grass-grown path by
which we had come.
It seems, however, that there must have been
some ohort cut for those who knew it, for before
I had reached the road I was astounded to see
Miss Stapleton sitting upon a rock by the side
of the track. Her face was beautifully flushed
io6
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
with her exertions, and she held her hand to her
Eide.
" I have run all the way in order to cut you off.
Dr. Watson," said she. " I had not even time to
put on my hat. I must not stop, or my brother
may miss me. I wanted to say to you how sorry
I am about the stupid mistake I made in thinking
that you were Sir Henry. Please forget the words
I said, which have no application whatever to you."
" But I can't forget them, Miss Stapleton," said
" I am Sir Henry's friend, and his welfare is a
i-ery close concern of mine. Tell me why it was
that you were so eager that Sir Henry should re-
turn to London."
"A woman's whim. Dr. Watson. When you
know me better you will understand that I cannot
always give reasons for what I say or do."
" No, no. I remember the thrill in your voice.
I remember the look in your eyes. Please, pleascp
be frank with me, Miss Stapleton, for ever since I
have been here I have been conscious of shadows
all round me. Life has become like that great
Grimpen Mire, with little green patches everywhere
into which one may sipk and with no guide to point
the track. Tell me then what it was that you
meant, and I will promise to convey your warning
to Sir Henry."
An expression of irresolution passed for an in-
stant over her face, but her eyes had hardened
again when she answered me.
XD7
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEI
" You make too much of it, Dr. Watson," said
she. " My brother and I were very much shockted
by the death of Sir Charles. We knew him very
intimately, for his favourite walk was over the mooj
to our house. He was deeply impressed with the
curse which hung over his family, and when this
tragedy came I naturally felt that there must be
some grounds for the fears which he had expressed.
I was distressed therefore when another member of
the family came down to live here, and I felt that
he should be warned of the danger which he will
run. That was all which I intended to convey."
" But what is the danger? "
" You know the story of the hound? "
" I do not believe in such nonsense."
" But I do. If you have any influence with Sir
Henry, take him away from a place which has al-
ways been fatal to his family. The world is wide.
Why should he wish to live at the place of danger? "
" Because it is the place of danger. That is Si
Henry's nature. I fear that unless you can givr
me some more definite information than this it
would be impossible to get him to move."
" I cannot say anything definite, for I do not
know anything definite."
" I would ask you one more question. Miss Sta-
pleton. If you meant no more than this when you
first spoke to me, why should you not wish your
brother to overhear what you said? There is noth«
it^ to which he, or anyone else, could object**
io8
THE STAPLFT0N8 OF MERRIPIT HOUSE
" My brother is very anxious to have the Hall
inhabited, for he thinks that it is for the good ol
the poor folk upon the moor. He would be very
angry if he knew that I had said anything which
might induce Sir Henry to go away. But I have
done my duty now and I will say no more. I must
get back, or he will miss me and suspect that I have
seen you. Good-bye!" She turned, and had dis-
appeared in a few minutes among the scattered
boulders, while I, with my soul full of vague fear%
pursued my way to Baskerville Hall.
IC9
VIII
First Report op Dr. Watson
FROM this point onwards I will follow tht
course of events by tr anscribing my own let-
ters to Mr. Sherlock Holmes which lie before
ne on the table. One page is missing, but other-
Jvise they are exactly as written, and show my feel-
ings and suspicions of the moment more accurately
than my memory, clear as it is upon these tragic
events, can possibly do.
Baskerville Hall, October 13th.
My Dear Holmes, — My previous letters and
telegrams have kept you pretty well up-to-date as
to all that has occurred in this most God-forsaken
corner of the world. The longer one stays here the
more does the spirit of the moor sink into one's
soul, its vastness, and also its grim charm. When
you are once out upon its bosom you have left all
traces of modern England behind you, but on the
other hand you are conscious everywhere of the
homes and the work of the prehistoric people. On
all sides of you as you walk are the houses of these
forgotten folk, with their graves and the huge
monoliths which are supposed to have marked their
temples. As you look at their grey stone huts
no
FIRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON
against the scarred hill-sides you leave your own
age behind you, and if you were to see a skin-clad,
hairy man crawl out froni"tiie low door, fitting a
flint-tipped arrow on to the string of his bow, you
would feel that his presence ther e was more natural
than your own. The strange thing is that they
should have lived so thickly on what must always
have been most unfruitful soil. I am no anti-
quarian, but I could imagine that they were some
unwarlike and harried race who were forced to ac-
cept that which none other would occupy.
All this, however, is foreign to the mission on
which you sent me, and will probably be very unin- )
teresting to your severely practical mind. I can
still remember your complete indifference as to
whether the sun moved round the earth or the earth
round the sun. Let me, therefore, return to the
facts concerning Sir Henry Baskerville.
If you have not had any report within the last
few days it is because up to to-day there was noth-
ing of importance to relate. Then a very surpris-
ing circumstance occurred, which I shall tell you
in due course. But, first of all, I must keep you
in touch with some of the other factors in the sit-
uation.
One of these, concerning which I have said lit-
tle, is the escaped convict upon the moor. There
is strong reason now to believe that he has got right
away, which is a considerable relief to the lonelj
householders of this district. A fortnight haf
III
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
passed since his flight, during which he has not
been seen and nothing has been heard of him. It
is surely inconceivable that he cor Id have held out
upon the moor during all that time. Of course,
so far as his concealment goes there is no difficulty
at all. Any one of these stone huts would give
him a hiding-place. But there is nothing to eat
unless he were to catch and slaughter one of the
moor sheep.' We think, therefore, that he has
gone, and the outlying farmers sleep the better in
consequence.
We are four able-bodied men in this household,
so that we could take good care of ourselves, but
I confess that I have had uneasy moments when I
have thought of the Stapletons. They live miles
from any help. There are one maid, an old man-
servant, the sister, and the brother, the latter not
a very strong man. They would be helpless in the
hands of a desperate fellow like this Notting Hill
criminal, if he could once effect an entrance. Both
Sir Henry and I were concerned at their situation,
and it was suggested that -Perkins the groom
should go over to sleep there, but Stapleton would
not hear of it.
The fact is that our friend the baronet begins to
display a considerable interest in our fair neigh-
bour. It is not to be wondered at, for time hangs
heavily in this lonely spot to an active man like him,
and she is a very fascinating and beautiful woman.
There is something tropical and exotic about her
iia
FIRST REPORT OF DR W A T S O M
which forms a singular contrast to her cool and
unemotional brother. Yet he also gives the idea
of hidden fires. He has certainly a very marked
influence over her, for I have seen her continually
glance at him as she talked as if seeking approba-
tion for what she said. I trust that he is kind to
her. There is a dry glitter in his eyes, and a firm
set of his thin lips, which goes with a positive and
possibly a harsh nature. You would find him an
interesting study.
He came over to call upon Baskerville on that
first day, and the very next morning he took us
both to show us the spot where the legend of the
wicked Hugo is supposed to have had its origin.
It was an excursion of some miles across the moor
to a place which is so dismal that it might have
suggested the story. We found a short valley be-
tween rugged tors which led to an open, grassy
space flecked over with the white cotton grass. In
the middle of it rose two great stones, worn and
sharpened at the upper end, until they looked like
|he huge corroding fangs of some monstrous beast.
In every way it corresponded with the scene of the
old tragedy. Sir Henry was much interested, and
asked Stapleton more than once whether he did
really believe in the possibility of the interference
of the supernatural in the aflfairs of men. He
spoke lightly, but it was evident that he was very
much in earnest. Stapleton was guarded in his re-
plies, but it was easy to see that he said less than
113
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERV1LLE8
he might, and that he would not express his whole
opinion out of consideration for the feelings of the
baronet. He told us of similar cases, where fam-
ilies had sufifered from some evil influence, and hf
left us with the impression that he shared the popq
lar view upon the matter.
On our way back we stayed for lunch at Merripit
House, and it was there that Sir Henry made the
acquaintance of Miss Stapleton. From the first
moment that he saw her he appeared to be strongly
attracted by her, and I am much mistaken if the
feeling was not mutual. He referred to her again
and again on our walk home, and since then hardly
a day has passed that we have not seen something
of the brother and sister. They dine here to-night,
and there is some talk of our going to them next
week. One would imagine that such a match
would be very welcome to Stapleton, and yet I nave
more than once caught a look of the strongest dis-
approbation in his face when Sir Henry has been
paying ' some attention to his sister. He is much
attached to her, no doubt, and would lead a lonely
life without her, but it would seem the height of
selfishness if he were to stand in the way of her
making so brilliant a marriage. Yet I am certain
that he does not wish their intimacy to ripen into
love, and I have several times observed that he has
taken pains to prevent them from being tete-h-tete.
By the way, your instructions to me never to allow
Sir Henry to go out alone will become very much
114
FIRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON
more onerous if a love affair were to be added to
our other difficulties. My popularity would soon
suffer «f I were to carry out your orders to the
letter.
The other day — ^Thursday, to be more exact —
Dr. Mortimer lunched with us. He has been ex-
cavating a barrow at Long Down, and has got a
prehistoric skull which fills him with great joy..
Never was there such a single-minded enthusiast as
he! The Stapletons came in afterwards, and the
good doctor took us all to the Yew Alley, at Sir
Henry's request, to show us exactly how everything
occurred upon that fatal night. It is a long, dismal
walk, the Yew Alley, between two high walls of
clipped hedge, with a narrow band of grass upon
either side. 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 af-
fair 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. There was the
long, gloomy tunnel down which he fled. And
from what? A sheep-dog of the moor? Or a
spectral hound, black, silent, and monstrous? Was
there a hum a n agency in the matter? Did the pale,
watchful Uarrymore know more than he cared to
"5
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
say? It was all dim and vague, but always there
is the dark shadow of crime behind it.
One other neighbour I have met since I wrote
last. This is Mr. Frankland, of Lafter Hall, who
lives some four miles to the south of us. He is an
elderly man, red faced, white haired, and choleric.
His passion is for the British law, and he has spent
a large fortune in litigation. He fights for the mere
pleasure of fighting and is equally ready to take up
either side of a question, so that it is no wonder
that he has found it a costly amusement. Some-
times he will shut up a right of way and defy the
parish to make him open it. At others he will with
his own hands tear down some other man's gate and
declare that a path has existed there from time im-
memorial, defying the owner to prosecute him for
trespass. He is learned in old manorial and com-
munal rights, and he applies his knowledge some-
times in favour of the villagers of Fernworthy and
sometimes against them, so that he is periodically
either carried in triumph down the village street or
else burned in effigy, according to his latest exploit.
He is said to have about seven lawsuits upon his
hands at present, which will probably swallow up
the remainder of his fortune and so draw his sting
and leave him harmless for the future. Apart from
the law he seems a kindly, good-natured person, and
I only mention him because you were particular
that j should send some description of the people
who surround us. He is curiously employed at
ii6
FIRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON
present, for, being an amateur astronomer, he has
an excellent telescope, with which he lies upon the
roof of his own house and sweeps the moor all day
in the hope of catching a glimpse of the escaped
convict. If he would confine his energies to this
all would be well, but there are rumours that he
intends to prosecute Dr. Mortimer for opening a
grave without the consent of the next-of-kin, be-
cause he dug up the neolithic skull in the barrow
on Long Down. He helps to keep our lives from
being monotonous and gives a little comic relief
where it is badly needed.
And now, having brought you up to date in the
escaped convict, the Stapletons, Dr. Mortimer, and
Frankland, of Lafter Hall, let me end on that which
is most important and tell you more about the
Barrymores, and especially about the surprising de-
velopment of last night.
First of all about the test telegram, which you
sent from London in order to make sure that Barry-
more was really here. I have already explained
that the testimony of the postmaster shows that the
test was worthless and that we have no proof one
way or the other. I told Sir Henry how the matter
stood, and he at once, in his downright fashion had
Barrymore up and asked him whether he had re-
ceived the telegram himself. Barrymore said that
he had.
" Did the boy deliver it into your own hands? "
asked Sir Henry.
"7
THE HOUND OP THE BASKERVILLES
Barrymore looked surprised, and considered for
a little time.
" No," said he, " I was in the box-room at the
time, and my wife brought it up to me."
" Did you answer it yourself? "
"No; I told my wife what to answer and she
went down to write it."
In the evening he recurred to the subject of his
own accord.
" I could not quite understand the object of your
questions this morning. Sir Henry," said he. " I
trust that they do not mean that I have done any-
thing to forfeit your confidence? "
Sir Henry had to assure him that it was not so
and pacify him by giving him a considerable part
of his old wardrobe, the London outfit having now
all arrived.
Mrs. Barrymore is of interest to me. She is a
heavy, solid person, very limited, intensely respect-
able, and inclined to be puritanical. You could
hardly conceive a less emotional subject. Yet I
have told you how, on the first night here, I heard
her sobbing bitterly, and since then I have more
than once observed traces of tears upon her face.
Some deep sorrow gnaws ever at her heart. Some-
times I wonder if she has a guilty memory which
haunts her, and sometimes I suspect Barrymore of
being a domestic tyrant. I have always felt that
there was something singular and questionable in
this man's character, but the adventure of last night
brings all my suspicions to a head.
Ii8
His face seemed to be rigid with expectation as he
' stared out into the blackness of the moor.
#IRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON
And yet it may seem a small matter in itself.
You are aware that I am not a very sound sleeper,
and since I have been on guard in this house my
slumbers have been lighter than ever. Last night,
about two in the morning, I was aroused by a
stealthy step passing my room. I rose, opened my
door, and peeped out. A long black shadow was
trailing down the corridor. It was thrown by a
man who walked softly down the passage with a
candle held in his hand. He was in shirt and
trousers, with no covering to his feet, I could
merely see the outline, but his height told me that
it was Barrymore. He walked very slowly and cir-
cumspectly, and there was something indescribably
guilty and furtive in his whole appearance.
I have told you that the corridor is broken by the
balcony which runs round the hall, but that it is
resumed upon the farther side. I waited until he
had passed out of sight and then I followed him.
When I came rOund the balcony he had reached
the end of the farther corridor, and I could see from
the glimmer of light through an open door that
he had entered one of the rooms. Now, all these
rooms are unfurnished and unoccupied, so that his
expedition became more mysterious than ever.
The light shone steadily as if he were standing mo-
tionless. I crept down the passage as noiselessly
as I could and peeped round the corner of the door.
Parrymore was crouching at the window with
the candle held against the glass. His profile was
"9
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
half turned towards me, and his face seemed to be
rigid with expectation as he stared out into the
blackness of the moor. For some minutes he stood
watching intently. Then he gave a deep groan and
with an impatient gesture he put out the light. In-
stantly I made my way back to my room, and very
shortly came the stealthy steps passing once more
upon their return journey. Long afterwards when
I had fallen into a light sleep I heard a key turn
somewhere in a lock, but I could not tell whence
the sound came. What it all means I cannot guess,
but there is some secret business going on in this
house of gloom which sooner or later we shall get
to the bottom of. I do not trouble you with my
theories, for you asked me to furnish you only with
facts. I have had a long talk with Sir Henry this
morning, and we have made a plan of campaign
founded upon my observations of last night. I will
not speak about it just now, but it should make my
next report interesting reading.
lao
IX
tSBCOND Report op Dr. Watson.]
The Light upon the Moor
Baskerville Hall, Oct. 15th.
MY DEAR HOLMES,— If I was com-
pelled to leave you without much news
during the early days of my mission you
must acknowledge that I am making up for lost
time, and that event s are now c rowding thick and
,,^^t-u po" MS . In'my last report 1 ended upon my
top note with Barrymore at the window, and now
I have quite a budget already which will, unless I
am much mistaken, considerably surprise you.
Things have taken a turn which I could not have
anticipated. In some ways they have within the
last forty-eight hours become much clearer and in
some ways they have become more complicated.
But I will tell you all and you shall judge for your-
self.
Before breakfast on the morning following my
idventure I went down the corridor and examined
the room in which Barrymore had been on the night
before. The western window through which he
had stared so intently has, I noticed, one peculiarity
above all other windows in the house — ^it commands
131
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
the nearest outlook on to the moor. There is an
opening between two trees which enables one from
this point of view to look right down upon it, while
from all the other windows it is only a distant
glimpse which can be obtained. It follows, there-
fore, that Barrymore, since only this window would
serve his purpose, must have been looking out for
something or somebody upon the moor. The
night was very dark, so that I can hardly imagine
how he could have hoped to see anyone. It had
struck me that it was possible that some love in-
trigue was on foot. That would have accounted
for his stealthy movements and also for the un-
easiness of his wife. The man is a striking-looking
fellow, very well equipped to steal the heart of a
country girl, so that this theory seemed to have
something to support it. That opening of the door
which I had heard after I had returned to my room
might mean that he had gone out to keep some
clandestine appointment. So I reasoned with my-
self in the morning, and I tell you the direction of
my suspicions, however much the result may have
shown that they were unfounded.
But whatever the true explanation of Barry-
more's movements might be, I felt that the respon-
sibility of keeping them to myself until I could ex-
plain them was more than I could bear. I had an
interview with the baronet in his study after break-
fast, and I told him all that I had seen. He was iess
surprised than I had expected.
122
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
" I knew that Barrymore walked about nights,
and I had a mind to speak to him about it," said he.
" Two or three times I have heard his steps in the|
passage, coming and going, just about the hour you
name."
" Perhaps then he pays a visit every night to that
particular window," I suggested.
" Perhaps he does. If so, we should be able to
shadow him, and see what it is that he is after. I
wonder what your friend Holmes would do, if he
were here."
" I believe that he would do exactly what you
now suggest," said I. " He would follow Barry-
more and see what he did."
" Then we shall do it together."
" But surely he would hear us."
" The man is rather deaf, and in any case we must
take our chance of that. We'll sit up in my room
to-night, and wait until he passes." Sir Henry
rubbed his hands with pleasure, and it was evident
that he hailed the adventure as a relief to his some-
what quiet life upon the moor. ,
The baronet has been in communication with the
architect who prepared the plans for Sir Charles,
and with a contractor from London, so that we may
expect great changes to begin here soon. There
have been decorators and furnishers up from
Plymouth, and it is evident that our friend has large
ideas, and means to spare no pains or expense to
restore the grandeur of his family. When the
123
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
house is renovated and refurnished, all that he will
need will be a wife to make it complete. Between
ourselves there are pretty clear signs that this will
not be wanting if the lady is willing, for I have sel-
dom seen a man more infatuated with a woman
than he is with our beautiful neighbour. Miss Sta-
pleton. And yet the course of true love does not
run quite as smoothly as one would under the cir-
cumstances expect. To-day, for example, its sur-
face was broken by a very unexpected ripple, which
has caused our friend considerable perplexity and
annoyance.
After the conversation which I have quoted about
Barrynjore Sir Henry put on his hat and prepared
to go out. As a matter of course I did the same.
" What, are you coming, Watson? " he asked,
looking at me in a curious way.
" That depends on whether you are going on th-i
moor," said I.
" Yes, I am."
" Well, you know what my instructions are. I
am sorry to intrude, but you heard how earnestly
Holmes insisted that I should not leave you, and
especially that you should not go alone upon the
moor."
Sir Henry put his hand upon my shoulder, with
a pleasant smile.
" My dear fellow," said he, " Holmes, with all his
wisdom, did not foresee some things which have
happened since I have been on the moor. You un-
124
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
derstand me? I am sure that you are the last man
in the world who would wish to be a spoil-sport. I
must go out alone."
It put me in a most awkward position. I was at
a loss what to say or what to do, and before I had
made up my mind he picked up his cane and was
gone.
But when I came to think the matter over my
conscience reproached me bitterly for having on
any pretext allowed him to go out of my sight. I
imagined what my feelings would be if I had to
return to you and to confess that some misfortune
had occurred through my disregard for your in-
structions. I assure you my cheeks flushed at the
very thought. It might not even now be too late
to overtake him, so I set off at once in the direction
of Merripit House.
I hurried along the road at the top of my spe ed
without seeing anythin g of S ir Henry, until I came
to the point where the moor path branches off.
There, fearing that perhaps I had come in the
wrong direction after all. I mounted a hill from
which I could command a view — the same hill
which IS cut mro tne aarK quarry. Thenc e I saw
him at once. He was on the moor path, about a
quarter of a mile off, and a lady was by his side
who could only be Miss Stapleton. It was clear
that there was already an understanding between
them and that they had met by appointment. They
were walking slowly along in deep conversation,
i2i
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
and I saw her making quick little movements of her
hands as if she were very earnest in what she was
saying, while he listened intently, and once or twice
shQok his hea d in strong dissen t. I stood among
the rocks watching them, very much puzzled as to
what I should do next. To follow them and break
into their intimate conversation seemed to be an
outrage , and yet my clear duty was never for an in-
stant to let him out of my sight. To act the spy
upon a friend was a hateful tas k. Still, I could see
no better course than to observe him from the hill,
and to clear my conscience by confessing to him
afterwards what I had done. It is true that if any
sudden danger had threatened him I was too far
away to be of use, and yet I am sure that you will
agree with me that the position was very diffi-
cult, and that there was nothing more which I
could do.
Our friend, Sir Henry, and the lady had halted
on the path and were standing deeply absorbed in
their conversation, when I was suddenly aware that
I was not the only witness of their interview. A
wisp of green floating in the air caught my eye, and
another glance showed me that it was carried on a
stick by a man who was moving among the broken
ground. It was Stapleton with his butterfly-net.
He was very much closer to the pair than I was,
and he appeared to iie moviiig in their direction.
At this instant Sir Hearx suddenly drew Miss Sta-
pleton to his side. His arm was round her, but it
126
"^^^^^^K^^
Sir Henry suddenly drew Miss Stapleton to his side.
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
seemed to me that she was straining away from him
with her face,averted. He stooped his head to hers,
and she raised one hand as if in protest. Next mo-
ment I saw them spring apart and turn hurriedly
round. Stapleton was the cause of the interrup-
tion. He was running wildly towards them, his
ftbsurd net dangUng behind him. He gesticulated
and almost danced with excitement in front of the
lovers. What the scene meant I could not im-
agine, but it seemed to me that Stapleton was abus-
ing Sir Henry, who offered explanations, which
became more angry as the other refused to accept
them. The lady stood by in haughty silence.
Finally Stapleton turned upon his heel and beck-
oned in a peremptory way to his sister, who, after
an irresolute glance at Sir Henry, walked off by the
side of her brother. The naturalist's angry gestures
showed that the lady was included in his displeas-
ure. The baronet stood for a minute looking after
them, and then he walked slowly back the way that
he had come, his head hanging, the very picture of
dejection.
What all this meant I could not imagine, bat I
was deeply ashamed to have witnes sed so intimate
a scene without my friend's knowledge. I ran
down the hill therefore and met the baronet at the
bottom. His face was flushed with anger and his
brows were wrinkled, like one who is at his wits'
ends what to do.
"Halloa, Watson! Where have you dropped
127
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLftS
from? " said he. " You don't mean to say that you
came after me in spite of all? "
I explained everything to him: how I had found
it impossible to remain behind, how I had followed
him, and how I had witnessed all that had occurred.
For an instant his eyes blazed at me, but my frank-
ness disarmed his anger, and he broke at last into a
rather rueful laugh.
" You would have thought the middle of that
prairie a fairly safe place for a man to be private,"
said he, "but, by thundei, the whole country-side
seems to have been out to see me do my wo oing —
and -x mighty poor wooing at that! Where had
you engaged a seat? "
" I was on that hill."
" Quite in the back row, eh? But her brother
was well up to the front. Did you see him come
out on us? "
" Yes, I did."
" Did he ever strike you as being crazy — ^this
brother of hers? "
" I can't say that he ever did."
" I daresay not. I always thought him sane
enough until to-day, but you can take it from me
that either he or I ought to be in a strait-jacket.
What's the matter with me, anyhow? You've
lived near me for some weeks, Watson, Tell me
straight, now! Is there anything that would pre-
vent me from making a good husband to a woman
that I loved? "
128
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
" I should say not."
" He can't object to my worldly position, so it
must be myself that he has this down on. What
has he against me? I never hu rt man or woman
in my life that 'I know of. And yet he would not
much as let me touch the tips of her fingers."
" Did he say so? "
" That, and a deal more. I tell you, Watson,
I've only known her these few weeks, but from the
first I just felt that she was made for me, and she,
too — she was happy when she was with me, and
that I'll swear. There's a light in a woman's eyes
that speaks louder than words. But he has never
let us get together, and it was only to-day for the
first time that I saw a chance of having a few words
with her alone. She was glad to meet me, but
when she did, it was not love that she would talk
about, and she wouldn't have let me talk about it
either if she could have stopped it. She kept com-
ing back to it that this was a place of danger, and
that she would never be happy until I had left it.
1 told her that since I had seen her I was in no
hurry to leave it, and that if she really wanted me
to go the only way to work it was for her to arrange
to go with me. With that I ofifered in as many
words to marry her, but before she could answer
down came this brother of hers, running at us with
a face on him like a madman. He was just white
with rage, and those light eyes of his were blazing
with fury. What was I doing with the lady? How
129
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
dared I offer her attentions which were distasteful
to her? Did I think that because I was a baronet
I) could do what I Hked? If he had not been her
brother I should have known better how to answer
him- As it was I told him that my feelings tow-
ards his sister were such as I was not ashamed of,
and that I hoped that she might honour me by be-
coming my wife. That seemed to make the mat-
ter no better, so then I lost my temper too, and I
answered him rather more hotly than I should per-
haps, considering that she was standing by. So it
ended by his going off with her, as you saw, and
here am I as badly puzzled a man as any in this
county. Just tell me whaili it all means, Watson,
and I'll owe you more than ever I can hope to pay."
I tried one or two explanations, but, indeed, I
was completely puzzled myself. Our friend's title,
his fortune, his age, his character, and his appear-
ance are all in his favour, and I know nothing
against him, unless it be this dark fate which runs
in his family. That his advances should be rejected
so brusquely without any reference to the lady's
own wishes, and that the lady should accept the
situation without protest is very amazing. How-
ever, our conjectures were set at rest by a visit from
Stapleton himself that very afternoon. He had
come to offer apologies for his rudeness of the
morning, and after a long private interview with Sir
Henry in his study, the upshot of their conversation
was that /the breach is quite healed, and that we are
130
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR -
to dine at Merripit House next Friday as a sign
of it.
" I don't say now that he isn't a crazy man," said
Sir H'enry; " I can't forget the look in hio eyes when
he ran at me this morning, but I must allow that
no man could make a more handsome apology than
he has done."
" Did he give any explanation of his conduct? "
" His sister is everything in his life, he says.
That is natural enough, and I am glad that he
should understand her value. They have always
been together, and according to his account he has
been a very lonely man with only her as a com-
panion, so that the thought of losing her was really
terrible to him. He had not understood, he said,
that I was becoming attached to her, but when he
saw with his own eyes that it was really so, and that
she might be taken away from him, it gave him
such a shock that for a time he was not responsible
for what he said or did. He was very sorry for all
that had passed, and he recognised how foolish and
how selfish it was that he should imagine that he
could hold a beautiful woman like his sister to him-
self for her whole life. If she had to leave him he
had rather it was to a neighbour like myself than to
anyone else. But in any case it was a blow to him,
and it would take him some time before he could
prepare himself to meet it. He would withdraw all
opposition upon his part if I would promise for
three months to let the matter rest and to be con-
131
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
tent with cultivating the lady's friendship dtlring
that time without claiming her love. This I prom-
ised, and so the matter rests."
So there is one of our .small mysteries cleared up.
It is something to have touched bottom anywhere
in this bog in which we are floundering. We know
now why Stapleton looked with disfavour upon his
sister's suitor — even when that suitor was so eli-
gible a one as Sir Henry. And now I pass on to
another thread which I have extricated out of the
tangled skein, the mystery of the sobs in the night,
of the tear-stained face of Mrs. Barrymore, of the
secret journey of the butler to the western lattice
window. Congratulate me, my dear Holmes, and
tell me that I have not disappointed you as an agent
— that you do not regret the confidence which you
showed in me when you sent me down. All these
things have by one night's work been thoroughly
cleared.
I have said " by one night's work," but, in truth,
it was by two nights' work, for on the first we drew
ertirely blank. I sat up with Sir Henry in his room
until nearly three o'clock in the morning, but no
sound of any sort did we hear except the chiming
clock upon the stairs. It was a most melancholy
vigil, and ended by each of us falling asleep in our
chairs. Fortunately we were not discouraged, and
we determined to try again. The next night we
lowered the lamp, and sat smoking cigarettes, with-
out making the least sound. It was incredible how
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
slowly the hours crawled by, and yet we were helped
through it by the same sort of patient interest which
the hunter must feel as he watches the trap into
which he hopes the game may wander. One
struck, and two, and we had almost for the sec-
ond time given it up in despair, when in an in-
stant we both sat bolt upright in our chairs, with
all our weary senses keenly on the alert once
more. We had heard the creak of a step in the
passage.
Very stealthily we heard it pass along until it died
away in the distance. Then the baronet gently
opened his door and we set out in pursuit. Already
our man had gone round the gallery, and the cor-
vidor was all in darkness. Softly we stole along
until we had come into the other wing. We were
just in time to catch a glimpse of the tall, black-
bearded figure, his shoulders rounded, as he tip-toed
down the passage. Then he passed through the
same door as before, and the light of the candle
framed it in the darkness and shot one single yellow
beam across the gloom of the corridor. We shuf-
fled cautiously towards it, trying every plank before
we dared to put our whole weight upOn it. We
had taken the precaution of leaving our boots be-
hind us, but, even so, the old boards snapped and
creaked beneath our tread.' Sometimes it seemed
impossible that he should fail to hear our approach.
However, the man is fortunately rather deaf, and
he was entirely preoccupied in that which he was
133
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
doing. When at last we reached the door and
peeped through we found him crouching at the win-
dow, candle in hand, his white, intent face pressed
against the pane, exactly as I had seen him two
nights before.
We had arranged no plan of campaign, but the
baronet is a man to whom the most direct way is
always the most natural. He walked into the
room, and as he did so Barrymore sprang up from
the window with a sliarp hiss of his breath, and
stood, livid and trembling, before us. His dark
eyes, glaring out of the white mask of his face, were
full of horror and astonishment as he gazed from
Sir Henry to me.
" What are you doing here, Barrymore? "
" Nothing, sir." His agitation was so great that
he could hardly speak, and the shadows sprang up
and down from the shaking of his candle. " It was
the window, sir. I go round at night to see that
they are fastened."
" On the second floor? "
" Yes, sir, all the windows."
" Look here, Barrymore," said Sir Henry, stern-
ly; " we have made up our minds to have the truth
out of you, so it will save you trouble to tell it
sooner rather than later. Come, now! No lies!
What were you doing at that window? "
The fellow looked at us in a helpless way, and he
wrung his hands together like one who is in the last
extremity of doubt and misery.
134
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
" I was doing no harm, sir. I was holding a
candle to the window."
" And why were you holding a candle to the win-
dow? "
" Don't ask me. Sir Henry — don't ask me! I
give you my word, sir, that it is not my secret, and
that I cannot tell it If it concerned no one but
myself I would not try to keep it from you."
A sudden idea occurred to me, and I took the
candle from the trembling hand of the butler.
" He must have been holding it as a signal," said
I. " Let us see if there is any answer." I held it
as he had done, and stared out into the darkness of
the night. Vaguely I could discern the black bank
of the trees and the lighter expanse of the moor,
for the moon was behind the clouds. And then I
gave a cry of exultation, for a tiny pin-point of yel-
low light had suddenly transfixed the dark veil, and
glowed steadily in the centre of the black square
framed by the window.
"There it is! "I cried.
" No, no, sir, it is nothing — nothing at all! " the
butler broke in ; "I assure you, sir "
" Move your light across the window, Watson ! "
cried' the baronet. "See, the other moves also!
Now, you rascal, do you deny that it is a signal?
Come, speak up! Who is your confederate out
yonder, and what is this conspiracy that is going
on?"
The man's face became openly defiant.
135
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" It is my business, and not yours. I will not
tell."
" Then you leave my employment right away."
" Very good, sir. If I must I must."
" And you go in disgrace. By thunder, you may
well be ashamed of yourself. Your family has lived
with mine for over a hundred years under this roof,
and here I ftnd you deep in some dark plot against
me.
" No, no, sir; no, not against you! ' It was a
woman's voice, and Mrs. Barrymore, paler and
more horrorstruck than her husband, was standing
at the door. Her bulky figure in a shawl arid skirt
might have been comic were it not for the intensity
of feeling upon her face.
" We have to go, Eliza. This is the end of it.
You can pack our things," said the butler.
" Oh, John, John, have I brought you to this?
It is my doing. Sir Henry — ^all mine. He has done
nothing except for my sake, and because I asked
him."
" Speak out, then! What does it mean? "
" My unhappy brother is starving on the moor.
We cannot let him perish at our very gates. The
light is a signal to him that food is ready for him,
and his light out yonder is to show the spot to which
to bring it."
" Then your brother is "
" The escaped convict, sir — Selden, the crimuial."
** That'g the truth, sir," said Barrymore. " I said
1.16
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOF
that it was not my secret and that I could not tell
it to you. But now you have heard it, and you will
see that if there was a plot it was not against you."
This, then, was the explanation of the stealthy
expeditions at night and the light at the window.
Sir Henry and I both stared at the woman in amaze-
ment. Was it possible that this stolidly respectable
person was of the same blood as one of the most
notorious criminals in the country?
" Yes, sir, my name was Selden, and he is my
younger brother. We humoured him too much
when he was a lad, and gave him his own way in
everything until he came to think that the world
was made for his pleasure, and that he could do
what he liked in it. Then, as he grew older, he met
wicked companions, and the devil entered into him
until he broke my mother's heart and dragged our
name in the dirt. From crime to crime he sank
lower and lower, until it is only the mercy of God
which has snatched him from the scafifold; but to
me, sir, he was always the little curly-headed boy
that I had nursed and played with, as an elder sister
would. That was why he broke prison, sir. He
knew that I was here and that we could not refuse
to help him. When he dragged himself here one
night, weary and starving, with the warders hard
at his heels, what could we do? We took him in
and fed him and cared for him. Then you returned,
sir, and my brother thought he would be safer on
the moor than anywhere else until the hue and cry
137
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
was over, so he lay in hiding there. But every sec-
ond night we made sure if he was still there by put-
ting a light in the window, and if there was an
answer my husband took out some bread and meat
to him. Every day we hoped that he was gone,
but as long as he was there we could not desert him.
That is the whole truth, as I am an honest Christian
woman, and you will see that if there is blame in
the matter it does not lie with my husband, but
with me, for whose sake he has done all that he
has."
The woman's words came with an intense ear-
nestness which carried conviction with them.
" Is this true, Barrymore? "
" Yes, Sir Henry. Every word of it."
" Well, I cannot blame you for standing by your
own wife. Forget what I have said. Go to your
room, you two, and we shall talk further about this
matter in the morning."
When they were gone we looked out of the win-
dow again. Sir Henry had flung it open, and the
cold night wind beat in upon our faces. Far away
in the black distance there still glowed that one tiny
point of yellow light.
" I wonder he dares," said Sir Henry.
" It may be so placed as to be only visible from
here." ,-===———
" Very likely. How far do you think it is? "
" Out by the Cleft Tor, I think."
" Not more than a mile or two off."
138
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
" Hardly that."
" Well, it cannot be far if Barrymore ha d to carry
out the food to it. And he is waiting, this villain,
beside that candle. By thunder, Watson, I am go-
ing out to take that man ! "
The same thought had crossed my own mind. It
was not as if the Barrymores had taken us into their
confidence. Their secret had been forced from
them. The man was a danger to the community,
an unmitigated scoundrel for whom there was nei-
ther pity nor excuse. We were only doing our
duty in taking this chance of putting him back
where he could do no harm. With his brutal and
violent nature, others would have to pay the price
if we held our hands. Any night, for example, our
neighbours the Stapletons might be attacked by
him, and it may have been the thought of this which
made Sir Henry so keen upon the adventure.
" I will come," said I.
" Then get your revolver and put on your boots.
The sooner we start the better, as the fellow may
put out his light and be off."
In five minutes we were outside the door, start-
ing upon our expedition. We hurried through the
dark shrubbery, amid the dull moaning of the
autumn wind and the rustle of the falling leaves.
The night air was heavy with the smell of damp and
decay. Now and again the moon peeped out for
an instant, but clouds were driving over the face
pf the sky, and just as we came out on the moor a
139
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
thin rain began to fall. The light still burned
steadily in front.
" Are you armed? " I asked.
" I have a hunting-crop."
" We must close in on him rapidly, for he is said
to be a desperate fellow. We shall take him by sur-
prise and have him at our mercy before he can
resist."
" I say, Watson," said the baronet, " what would
Holmes say to this? How about that hour of dark-
ness in which the power of evil is exalted? "
As if in answer to his words there rose suddenly
out of the vast gloom of the moor that strange cry
which I had already heard upon the borders of the
great Grimpen Mire. It came with the wind
through the silence of the night, a long, deep mut-
ter, then a rising howl, and then the sad moan in
which it died away. Again and again it sounded,
the whole air throbbing with it, strident, wild, and
menacing. The baronet caught my sleeve and his
face glimmered white through the darkness.
" My God, what's that, Watson? "
" I don't know. It's a sound they have on the
moor. I heard it once before."
It died away, and an absolute silence closed in
upon us. We stood straining our ears, but nothing
came.
" Watson," said the baronet, " it was the cry of
a hound."
My blood ran cold in my veins, for there was a
140
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
break in his voice which told of the sudden horror
which had seized him.
" What do they call this sound? " he asked.
" Who? "
" The folk on the country-side? "
" Oh, they are ignorant people. Why should
you mind what they call it? "
" Tell me, Watson. What do they say of it? "
I hesitated, but could not escape the question.
" They say it is the cry of the Hound of the
Baskervilles."
He groaned, and was silent for a few moments.
" A hound it was," he said, at last, " but it seemed
to come from miles away, over yorfder, I think."
" It was hard to say whence it came."
" It rose and fell with the wind. Isn't that the
direction of the great Grimpen Mire? "
" Yes, it is."
"Well, it was up there. Come now, Watson,
d5dn't you think yourself that it was the cry of a
hound? I am not a child. You need not fear to
speak the truth."
" StapletOD was wiith me when I heard it last
He said that it might be the calling of a strange
bird."
" No, no, it was a hound. My God, can there be
some truth in all these stories? Is it possible that
I am really in danger from so dark a cause? You
don't believe it, do you, Wateoai? "
" (Nfcfi mi.**
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" And yet it was one thing to laugh about it in
London, and it is another to stand out here in the
darkness of the moor and to hear such a cry as that.
And my uncle! There was the footprint of the
hound beside him as he lay. It all fits together.
I don't think that I am a coward, Watson, but that
sound seemed to freeze my very blood. Feel my,
hand!"
It was as cold as a block of marble.
" You'll be all right to-morrow."
" I don't think I'll get that cry out of my head.
What do you advise that we do now? "
" Shall we turn back? "
" No, by thunder; we have come out to get our
man, and we will do it. We after the convict, and
a hell-hound, as likely as not, after us. Come on!
We'll see it through if all the fiends of the pit were
loose upon the moor."
We stumbled slowly along in the darkness, with
the black loom of the craggy hills around us, and
the yellow speck of light burning steadily in front.
There is nothing so deceptive as the distance of a
light upon a pitch-dark night, and vsometimes the
glimmer seemed to be far away upon the horizon
and sometimes it might have been within a few
yards of us. But at last we could see whence it
came, and then we knew that we were indeed very
close. A guttering candle was stuck in a crevice of
the rocks which flanked it on each side so as to
keep l^e wind from Hi and aiso to prevent it from
142
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
being visible, save in the direction of Baskerville
Hall. A boulder of granite concealed our ap-
proach, and crouching behind it we gazed over it
at the signal light. It was strange to see this single
candle burning there in the middle of the moor,
with no sign of life near it — ^just the one straight
yellow flame and the gleam of the rock on each side
of it.
" What shall we do now? " whispered Sir Henry.
"Wait here. He must be near his light. Let
us see if we can get a glimpse of him."
The words were hardly out of my mouth when
we both saw him. Over the rocks, in the crevice
of which the candle burned, there was thrust out an
evil yellow face, a terrible animal face, all seamed
and scored with vile passions. Foul with mire,
with a bristling beard, and hung with matted hair,
it might well have belonged to one of those old
savages who dwelt in the burrows on the hillsides.
The light beneath him was reflected in his small,
cunning eyes which peered fiercely to right and left
through the darkness, like a crafty and savage ani-
mal who has heard the steps of the hunters.
Something had evidently aroused his suspicions.
It may have been that Barrymore had some private
signal which we had neglected to give, or the fellow
may have had some other reason for thinking that
all was not well, but I could read his fears upon his
wicked face. Any instant he might dash out the
light and vanish in the darkness. I sprang forward
143
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
therefore, and Sir Henry did the same. At the
same moment the convict screamed out a curse at
us and hurled a rock which splintered up against
the boulder which had sheltered us. I caught one
glimpse of his short, squat, strongly-built figure as
he sprang to his feet and turned to run. At the
same moment by a lucky chance the moon broke
through the clouds. We rushed over the brow of
the hill, and there was our man running with great
speed down the other side, springing over the stones
in his way with the activity of a mountain goat. A
lucky long shot of my revolver might have crippled
him, but I had brought it only to defend myself if
attacked, and not to shoot an unarmed man who
was running away.
We were both swift runners and in fairly good
training, but we soon found that we had no chance
of overtaking him. We saw him for a long time
in the moonlight until he was only a small speck
moving swiftly among the boulders upon the side
of a distant hill. We ran and ran until we were
completely blown, but the space between us grew
ever wider. Finally we stopped and sat panting on
two rocks, while we watched him disappearing in
the distance.
And it was at this moment that there occurred a
most strange and unexpected thing. We had risen
from our rocks and were turning to go home, hav-
ing abandoned the hopeless chase. The moon was
low upon the right, and the jagged pinnacle of a
.T44
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
granite tor stood up against the lower curve of its
silver disc. There, outlined as black as an ebony
statue on that shining back-ground, I saw the fig-
ure of a man upon the tor. Do not think that it
was a delusion, Holmes. I assure you that I have
never in my life seen an;^hing more clearly. As
far as I could judge, the figure was that of a tall,
thin man. He stood with his legs a little separated,
his arms folded, his head bowed, as if he were brood-
ing over that enormous wilderness of peat and
granite which lay before him. He might have been
the very spirit of that terrible place. It was not the
convict. This man was far from the place where
the latter had disappeared. Besides, he was a much
taller man. With a cry of surprise I pointed him
out to the baronet, but in the instant during which
I had turned to grasp his arm the man was gone.
There was the sharp pinnacle of granite still cut-
ting the lower edge of the moon, but its peak bore
no trace of that silent and motionless figure.
I wished to go in that direction and to search the
tor, but it was some distance away. The baronet's
nerves were still quivering from that cry, which re-
called the dark story of his family, and he was not
in the mood for fresh adventures. He had not seen
this lonely man upon the tor and could not feel the
thrill which his strange presence and his command-
ing attitude had given to me. "A warder, no
doubt," said he. " The moor has been thick with
them since this fellow escaped." Well, perhaps his
145
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
explanation may be the right one, but I should like
to have some further proof of it. To-day we mean
to communicate to the Princetown people where
they, should look for their missing man, but it is
har'd lines that we have not actually had the tri-
umph of bringing \him-]yi^ck as our own prisoner.
Such are the adventures of last night, and you must
acknovfrledge, my dear Holmes, that I have done
you very well in the matter of a report. Much of
what I tell you is no doubt quite irrelevant, but still
I feel that it is best that I- should let you have all
the facts and leave you to select for yourself those
jivhich will be of most service to you in helping you
to your conclusions. We are certainly making
some progress. So far as the Barrymores go we
have found the motive of their actions, and that has
cleared up the situation very much. But the moor
with its mysjgries and its -strange inhabitants re-
mains as inscrutable as ever. Perhaps in my next
I may be able to throw some light upon this also.
Best of all would it be if you could come down to
us. In any case you will hear from me again in
the course of the next few days.
146
Extract from the Diary of Dr. Watson
•4.
SO far I have been able to quote from the re-
ports which I have forwarded durifig these,
early days to Sherlock Holnies. Now, how- i
ever, I have arrived at a point in my narrative where
I am compelled to abandon this method and to
trust once more to my recollections, aided by thet
diary which I kept at the time. A few extracts
from the latter will carry me on to those scenes
which are indelibly fixed in every detail upon, my
memory. I procefed, then, from the morning which
followed our abortive chase of the convict and our
other strange experiences upon th^moor.
October i6th. — ^A dull and foggy day with a driz-
zle of rain. The house is banked in with rolling
clouds, which rise now and then to show the dreary
curves of the moor, with thin, silver veins upon the
sides of the hills, and the distant boulders gleaming
where the light strikes upon their wet faces. It is
melancholy outside and in. The baronet is in a
black reaction ^fter the excitements of the night.
I am conscious myself of a weight at my heart and
a feeling of impending danger — ever present dan-
ger, which is the more terrible because I am unable
to define it.
147
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
And have I not cause for such a feeling? Con-
sider the long sequence of incidents which have all
pointed to some sinister influence which is at work
around us. There is the death of the last occupant
of the Hall, fulfilling so exactly the conditions of the
family legend, and there are the repeated reports
from peasants of the appearance of a strange creat-
ure upon the moor. Twice I have with my own
ears heard the sound which resembled the distant
baying of a hound. It is incredible, impossible,
that it should really be outside the ordinary laws of
nature. A spectral hound which leaves material
footmarks and fills the air with its howling is surely
not to be thought of. Stapleton may fall in with
such a superstition, and Mortimer also; but if I
have one quality upon earth it is common-sense,
and nothing will persuade me to believe in such a
thing. To do so would be to descend to the level
of these poor peasants, who are not content with a
mere fiend dog, but must needs describe him with
hell-fire shooting from his mouth and eyes.
Holmes would not listen to such fancies, and I am
his agent. But facts are facts, and I have twice
heard this crying upon the moor. Suppose that
there were really some huge hound loose upon it;
that would go far to explain everything. But
where could such a hound lie concealed, where did
it get its food, where did it come from, how was it
that no one saw it by day? It must be confessed
that the natural explanation offers almost as many
148
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON
difficulties as the other. And always, apart from
the hound, there is the fact of the human agency
in London, the man in the cab, and the letter which
warned Sir Henry against the moor. This at least
was real, but it might have been the work of a pro-
tecting friend as easily as of an enemy. Where is
that friend or enemy now? Has he remained in
London, or has he followed us down here.-" Could
he — could he be the stranger whom 1 saw upon
the Tor?
It is true that I have had only the one glance at
him, and yet there are some things to which I am
ready to swear. He is no one whom I have seen
down here, and I have now met all the neighbours.
The figure was far taller than that of Stapleton, far
thinner than that of Frankland. Barrymore it
might possibly have been, but we had left him be-
hind us, and I am certain that he could not have
followed us. A stranger then is still dogging us,
just as a stranger dogged us in Londoft. We
have never shaken him off. If I could lay my
hands upon that man, then at last we might
find ourselves at the end of all our difficulties.
To this one purpose I must now devote all my
energies.
My first impulse was to tell Sir Henry all my
plans. My second and wisest one is to play my
own game and speak as little as possible to anyone.
He is silent and distrait. His nerves have been
strangely shaken by that sound upon the moor. I
149
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
will say nothing to add to his anxieties, but I will
take my own steps to attain my own end.
We had a small scene this mornmg alter break-
fast. Barrymore asked leave to speak with Sir
Henry, and they were closeted in his study some
little time. Sitting in the billiard-room I more than
once heard the sound of voices raised, and I had a
pretty good idea what the point was which was un-
der discussion. After a time the baronet opened
his door and called for me.
" Barrymore considers that he has a grievance,"
he said. " He thinks that it was unfair on our part
to hunt his brother-in-law down when he, of his own
free will, had told us the secret."
The butler was standing very pale but very col-
lected before us.
" I may have spoken too warmly, sir," said he,
" and if I have I am sure that I beg your pardon.
At the same time, I was very much surprised when
I heard you two gentlemen come back this morn-
ing and learned that you had been chasing Selden.
The poor fellow has enough to fight against without
my putting more upon his track."
" If you had told us of your own free will it would
have been a different thing," said the baronet, " you
only told us, or rather your wife only told us, when
it was forced from you aiwi you could not help your-
self."
" I didn't think you would have taken advantage
of it, Sir Henry — indeed I didn't."
ISO
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON
" The man is a public danger. There are lonely
houses scattered over the moor, and he is a fellow
who would stick at nothing. You only want to get
a glimpse of his face to see that. Look at Mr. Sta-
pleton's house, for example, with no one but himself
Jo defend it. There's no safety for anyone until he
IS under lock and key."
" He'll break into no house, sir. I give you my
solemn word upon that. But he will never trouble
anyone in this country again. I assure you, Sir
Henry, that in a very few days the necessary ar-
rangements will have been made and' he will be on
his way to South America. For God's sake, sir, I
beg of you not to let the police know that he is still
on the moor. They have given up the chase there,
and he can lie quiet until the ship is ready for him.
You can't tell on him without getting my wife and
me into trouble. I beg you, sir, to say nothing to
the police."
" What do you say, Watson? "
I shrugged my shoulders. " If he were safely out
of the country it would relieve the tax-payer of a
burden."
" But how about the chance of his holding some-
one up before he goes? "
" He would not do anything so mad, sir. We
have provided him with all that he can want. To
commit a crime would b e to show where he was
hiding." " '
" That is truci" said Sk Haiiy. " WteH^ B&rry-
iBor t II*
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
"God bless you, sir, and thank you from my
heart! It would have killed my poor wife had he
been taken again."
" I guess we are aiding and abetting a felony,
Watson? But, after what we have heard, I don't
feel as if I could give the man up, so tliere is an
end of it. All right, Barrymore, you can go."
With a few broken words of gratitude the man
turned, but he hesitated and then came back.
" You've been so kind to us, sir, that I should
like to do the best I can for you in return. I know
something. Sir Henry, and perhaps I should have
said it before, but it was long after the inquest that
I found it out. I've never breathed a word about
it yet to mortal man. It's about poor Sir Charles's
death."
The baronet and I were both upon our feet.
" Do you know how he died? "
" No, sir, I don't know that."
"What then?"
" I know why he was at the gate at that hour
It was to meet a woman."
" To meet a woman I He? "
" Yes, sir."
" And the woman's name? "
" I can't give you the name, sir, but I can give
you the initials. Her initials were L, L."
" How do you know this, Barrymore? "
" Well, Sir Henry, your uncle had a letter tfiat
mdnuBg^ Ha had ueuelly a giciat maeny t&X&S) fdc
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON
he was a public man and well known for his kind
heart, so that everyone who was in trouble was
glad to turn to him. But that morning, as it
chanced, there was only this one letter, so I took
the more notice of it. It was from Coombe Tracey,
and it was addressed in a woman's hand."
" Well? "
" Well, sir, I thought no more of the matter, and
never would have done had it not been for my wife.
Only a few weeks ago she was cleaning out Sir
Charles's study — ^it had never been touched since his
death — and she found the ashes of a burned letter
in the back of the grate. The greater part of it was
charred to pieces, but one little slip, the end of a
page, hung together, and the writing could still be
read, though it was grey on a black ground. It
seemed to us to be a postscript at the end of the let-
ter, and it said : ' Please, please, as you are a gentle-
man, burn this letter, and be at the gate by ten
o'clock.' Beneath it were signed the initials L. L."
" Have you got that slip? "
" No, sir, it crumbled all to bits after we moved
it."
" Had Sir Charles received any other letters in
the same writing? "
" Well, sir, I took no particular notice of his let-
ters. I should not have noticed this one only it
happened to come alone."
" And you have no idea who L. L. is? "
" No, sir. No more than you have. But I ex-
153
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
pect if we could lay our hands upon that lady we
should know more about Sir Charles's death."
" I cannot understand, Barrymore, how you came
to conceal this important information."
" Well, sir, it was immediately after that our own
trouble came to us. And then again, sir, we were
both of us very fond of Sir Charles, as we well might
be considering all that he has done for us. To rake
this up couldn't help our poor master, and it's well
to go carefully when there's a lady in the case.
Even the best of us "
" You thought it might injure his reputation? "
" Well, sir, I thought no ^ood could come of i t.
But now you have been kind to us, and I feel as if
it would be treating you unfairly not to tell you
all that I know about the matter."
"Very good, Barrymore; you can go." When
the butler had left us Sir Henry turned to me.
"Well, Watson, what do you think of this new
light? " '
" It seems to leave the darkness rather blacker
than before."
" So I think. But if we can only trace L. L. it
should clear up the whole business. We have
gained that much. We know that there is some-
one who has the facts if we can only find her. What
do you think we should do? "
" Let Holmes know all aboiit it at once. It will
give him the clue for which he has been seeking.
I am much mistaken if it does not bring him down."
154
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON
I went at once to my room and drew up my re-
port of the morning's conversation for Holmes. It
was evident to me that he had been very busy of
late, for the notes which I had from Baker Street
were few and short, with no comments upon the
information which I had supplied, and hardly any
reference to my mission. No doubt his blackmail-
ing case is absorbing all his faculties. And yet this
new factor must surely arrest his attention and re-
new his interest. I wish that he were here.
October 17th. — ^AU day to-day the rain poured
down, rustling on the ivy and dripping from the
eaves. I thought of the convict out upon the
bleak, cold, shelterless moor. Poor devil! What-
ever his crimes, he has suffered something to atone
for them. And then I thought of that other one
— the face in the cab, the figure against the moon.
Was he also out in that deluge — the unseen
watcher, the man of darkness? In the evening I
put on my waterproof and I walked far upon the
sodden moor, full of dark imaginings, the rain beat-
ing upon my face and the wind whistling about my
ears. God help those who wander into the great
mire now, for even the firm uplands are becoming
a morass. I found ihe black tor upon which I
had seen the solitary watcher, and from its craggy
summit I looked out myself across the melancholy
downs. Rain squalls drifted across their russet
face, and the heavy, slate-coloured clouds hung low
over the landscape, trailing in grey wreathe down
155
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
the sides of the fantastic hills. In the distant hol-
low on the left, half hidden by the mist, the two
thin towers of Baskerville Hall rose above the trees.
They were the only signs of human life which I
could see, save only those prehistoric huts which
lay thickly upon the slopes of the hills. Nowhere
was there any trace of that lonely man whom I had
seen on the same spot two nights before.
As I walked back I was overtaken by Dr. Morti-
mer driving in his dog-cart over a rough moorland
track, which led from the outlying farmhouse o{
Foulmire. He has been very attentive to us, and
hardly a day has passed that he has not called at the
Hall to see how we were getting on. He insisted
upon my climbing into his dog-cart and he gave
me a lift homewards. I found him much troubled
over the disappearance of his little spaniel. It had
wandered on to the moor and had never come back.
I gave him such consolation as I might, but I
thought of the pony on the Grimpen Mire, and I
do not fancy that he will see his little dog again.
" By the way, Mortimer," said I, as we jolted
along the rough road, " I suppose there are few
people living within driving distance of this whom
you do not know? "
" Hardly any, I think."
" Can you, then, tell me the name of any woman
whose initials are L. L.?"
He thought for a few minutes.
" No," said he. " There are a few gipsies and
156
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON
labouring folk for whom I can't answer, but among
the farmers or gentry there is no one whose initials
are those. Wait a bit though," he added, after a
pause. "There is Laura Lyons — her initials are
L. L. — but she lives in Coombe Tracey."
" Who is she? " I asked.
" She is Frankland's daughter."
" What ! Old Frankland the crank ? "
" Exactly. She married an artist named Lyons,
who came sketching on the moor. He proved to
be a blackguard and deserted her. The fault from
what I hear may not have been entirely on one side.
Her father refused to have anything to do with her,
because she had married without his consent, and
perhaps for one or two other reasons as well. So,
between the old sinner and the young one the girl
has had a pretty bad time."
" How does she live? "
" I fanty old Frankland allows her a pittance, but
it cannot be more, for his own affairs are consider-
ably involved. Whatever she may have deserved
one could not allow her to go hopelessly to the bad.
Her story got about, and several of the people here
did something to enable her to earn an honest liv-
ing. Stapleton did for one, and Sir Charles for
another. I gave a trifle myself. It was to set her
up in a typewriting business."
He wanted to know the object of my inquiries,
but I managed to satisfy his curiosity without tell-
ing bim too much, for there is no reason why we
157
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
should take anyone into our confidence. To-mor-
row morning I shall find my way to Coombe Tracey,
and if I can see this Mrs. Laura Lyons, of equivocal
reputation, a long step will have been made towards
clearing one incident in this chain of mysteries. I
am certainly developing the wisdom of the serpent,
for when Mortimer pressed his questions to an in-
convenient extent I asked him casually to what type
Frankland's skull belonged, and so heard nothing
but craniology for the rest of our drive. I have
not lived for years with Sherlock Holmes for
nothing.
I have only one other incident to record upon this
tempestuous and melancholy day. This was my
conversation with Barrymore just now, which gives
me one more strong card which I can play in due
time.
Mortimer had stayed to dinner, and he and the
baronet played ecarte afterwards. The butler
brought me my coffee into the library, and I took
the chance to ask him a few questions.
"Well," said I, "has this precious relation of
yours departed, or is he still lurking out yonder? "
" I don't know, sir. I hope to Heaven that he
has gone, for he has brought nothing but trouble
here! I've not heard of him since I left out food
for him last, and that was three days ago."
" Did you see him then? "
" No, sir, but ttaes ftrod was gtraie when next I
werft fha^E Way."
158
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON
" Then he was certainly there? "
" So you would think, sir, unless it was the other
man who took it."
I sat with my coffee-cup half way to my lips and
stared at Barrymore.
" You know that there is another man then? "
" Yes, sir; there is another man upon the moor."
" Have you seen him? "
" No, sir."
" How do you know of him then? "
" Selden told me of him, sir, a week ago or more.
He's in hiding, too, but he's not a convict as far
as I can make out. I don't like it, Dr. Watson — I
tell you straight, sir, that I don't like it." He spoke
with a sudden passion of earnestness.
" Now, listen to me, Barrymore! I have no in-
terest in this matter but that of your master. I
have come here with no object except to help him.
Tell me, frankly, what it is that you don't like."
Barrymore hesitated for a moment, as if he re-
gretted his outburst, or found it difficult to express
his own feelings in words.
" It's all these goings-on, sir," he cried at last,
waving his hand towards the rain-lashed window
which faced the moor. " There's foul play some-
where, and there's black villainy brewing, to that
I'll swear! Very glad I should be, sir, to see Sir
Henry on his way back to London again 1 "
" But what is it that alarms you? "
"Look at Sir Charles's death! That was bad
159
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
enough, for all that the coroner said. Look at the
noises on the moor at night. There's not a man
would cross it after sundown if he was paid for it.
Look at this stranger hiding out yonder, and watch-
ing and waiting! What's he waiting for? What
does it mean? It means no good to anyone of the
name of Baskerville, and very glad I shall be to
be quit of it all on the day that Sir Henry's new
servants are ready to take over the Hall."
" But about this stranger," said L " Can you
tell me anything about him? What did Selden say?
Did he find out where he hid, or what he was
doing? "
" He saw him once or twice, but he is a deep one,
and gives nothing away. At first he thought that
he was the police, but soon he found that he had
some lay of his own. A kind of gentleman he was,
as far as he could see, but what he was doing he
could not make out."
" And where did he say that he lived? "
"Among the old houses on the hillside — the
stone huts where the old folk used to live."
" But how about his food? "
" Selden found out that he has got a lad who
works for him and brings him all he needs. I dare-
say he goes to Coombe Tracey for what he wants."
" Very good, Barrymore. We may talk further
of this some other time." When the butler had
gone I walked over to the black window, and I
kioked through a blurred pane at the driving clouds
i6o
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON
and at the tossing outline of the wind-swept trees.
It is a wild night indoors, and what must it be in
a stone hut upon the moor. What passion of hatred
can it be which leads a man to lurk in such a place
at such a time! And what deep and earnest pur-
pose can he have which calls for such a trial!
There, in that hut upon the moor, seems to lie the
very centre of that problem which has vexed me
so sorely. I swear that another day shall not have
passed before I have done all that man can do to
reach the heart of the mystery.
I6x
XI
The Man on thb Tor
THE extract from my private diary which
forms the last chapter has brought my nar-
rative up to the 1 8th of October, a time
when these strange events began to move swiftly
towards their terrible conclusion. The incidents of
the next few days are indelibly graven upon my
recollection, and I can tell them without reference
to the notes made at the time. I start then from
the day which succeeded that upon which I had
established two facts of great importance, the one
that Mrs. Laura Lyons of Coombe Tracey had writ-
ten to Sir Charles Baskerville and made an appoint-
ment with him at the very place and hour that he
met his death, the other that the lurking man upon
the moor was to be found among the stone huts
upon the hill-side. With these two facts in my pos-
session I felt that either my intelligence or my cour-
age must be deficient if I could not throw some
further light upon these dark places.
I had no opportunity to tell the baronet what I
had learned about Mrs. Lyons upon the evening
before, for Dr.«Mortimer remained with him at cards
until it was very late. At breakfast, however, I
informed him about my discovery, and asked him
162
THE MAN ON THE TOR
whether he would care to accompany me to
Coombe Tracey. At first he was very eager to
come, but on second thoughts it seemed to both of
us that if I went alone the results might be better.
The more formal we made the visit the less informa-
tion we might obtain. I left Sir Henry behind,
therefore, not without some prickings of conscience,
and drove off upon my new quest.
When I reached Coombe Tracey I told Perkins
to put up the horses, and I made inquiries for the
lady whom I had come to interrogate. I had no
difficulty in finding her rooms, which were central
and well appointed. A maid showed me in without
ceremony, and as T entered the sitting-room a lady,
who was sitting before a Remington typewriter,
sprang up with a pleasant smile of welcome. Her
face fell, however, when she saw that I was a
stranger, and she sat down again and asked me the
object of my visit.
The first impression left by Mrs. Lyons was one
of extreme beauty. Her eyes and hair were of the
same rich hazel colour, and her cheeks, though con-
siderably freckled, were flushed with the exquisite
bloom of the brunette, the dainty pink which lurks
at the heart of the sulphur rose. Admiration was,
I repeat, the first impression. But the second was
criticism. There was something subtly wrong with
the face, some coarseness of expresswn, some hard-
ness, perhaps, of eye, some looseness of lip which
marred its perfect beauty. But thes6, of course^
163
THE HOUND OF TH^ BASKERVILLE8
are after-thoughts. At the moment I was simply
conscious that I was in the presence of a very hand-
some woman, and that she was asking me the rea-
sons for my visit. I had not quite understood until
that instant how delicate my mission was.
" I have the pleasure," said I, " of knowing your
father."
It was a clumsy introduction, and the lady made
me feel it.
" There is nothing in common between my father
and me," she said. " I owe him nothing, and his
friends are not mine. If it were not for the late
Sir Charles Baskerville and some other kind hearts
I might have starved for all that my father cared."
" It was about the late Sir Charles Baskerville
Hat I have come here to see you."
The freckles started out on the lady's face.
" What can I tell you about him? " she asked,
and her fingers played nervously over the stops of
her typewriter.
" You knew him, did you not? "
" I have already said that I owe a great deal to
his kindness. If I am able to support myself it is
largely due to the interest which he took in my un-
happy situation."
" Did you correspond with him?"
The lady looked quickly up with an angry gleam
in her hazel eyes.
"What is the object of these questions?" she
ssked, sharply.
164
THE MAN ON THE TOR
" The object is to avoid a public scandal. It 19
better that I should ask them here than that the
matter should pass outside our control."
She was silent and her face was still very pale.
At last she looked up with something reckless and
defiant in her manner.
" Well, I'll answer," she said. " What are your
questions? "
" Did you correspond with Sir Charles? "
" I certainly wrote to him once or twice to ac-
knowledge his delicacy and his generosity."
" Have you the dates of those letters? "
" No."
" Have you ever met him? "
" Yes, once or twice, when he came into Coombe
Tracey. He was a very retiring man, and he pre-
ferred to do good by stealth."
" But if you saw him so seldom and wrote so sel-
dom, how did he know enough about your affairs
to be able to help you, as you say that he has
done?"
She met my difficulty with the utmost readi-
ness.
" There were several gentlemen who knew my
sad history and united to help me. One was Mr.
Stapleton, a neighbour and intimate friend of Sir
Charles's. He was exceedingly kind, and it was
through him that Sir Charles learned about my
affairs."
I knew already that Sir Charles Baskerville had
»6S
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEi
made Stapleton his almoner upon several occasions,
-so the lady's statement bore the impress of truth
upon it.
" Did you ever write to Sir Charles asking him
to meet you? " I continued.
Mrs. Lyons flushed with anger again.
" Really, sir, this is a very extraordinary ques-
tion."
" I am sorry, Madame, but I must repeat it."
" Then I answer, certainly not."
" Not on the very day of Sir Charles's death? "
The flush had faded in an instant, and a deathly
face was before me. Her dry lips could not speak
the " No " which I saw rather than heard.
" Surely your memory deceives you," said I. " I
could even quote a passage of your letter. It ran
' Please, please, as you are a gentleman, bum this
letter, and be at the gate by ten o'clock.' "
I thought that she had fainted, but she recovered
herself by a supreme effort.
" Is there no such thing as a gentleman? " she
gasped.
" You do Sir Charles an injustice. He did bum
the letter. But sometimes a letter may be legible
even when burned. You acknowledge now that
you wrote it."
" Yes, I did write it," she cried, pouring out her
soul in a torrent of words. " I did write it. Why
should I deny it? I have no reason to be ashamed
of it. I wished him to help me. I believed that ii
166
THE MAN ON THE TOR
X had an interview I could gain his help, so I asked
him to meet me."
" But why at such an hour? "
" Because I had only just learned that he was go-
ing to London next day and might be away for
months. There were reasons why I could not get
there earlier."
" But why a rendezvous in the garden instead of
a visit to the house? "
" Do you think a woman could go alone at that
hour to a bachelor's house? "
" Well, what happened when you did get there? *
" I never went."
"Mrs. Lyons!"
" No, I swear it to you on all I hold sacred. I
never went Something intervened to prevent my
going."
"What was that?"
" That is a private matter. I cannot tell it."*
" You acknowledge then that you made an ap^
pointment vdth Sir Charles at the very hour and
place at which he met his deaths but you demy Ikat
you kept the appointment."
" That is the truth."
Again and again I cross-questioned her, but I
could never get past that point.
" Mrs. Lyons," said I, as I rose from this long
and inconclusive interview, " you are taking a very
great responsibility and putting yourself in a very
blM p^ot^u li^ iM making an absolube^ dean
167
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEI
breast of all that you know. If I have to call in the
aid of the police you will find how seriously you are
compromised. If your position is innocent, why
did you in the first instance deny having written to
Sir Charles upon that date? "
" Because I feared that some false conclusion
might be drawn from it, and that I might find my-
self involved in a scandal."
" And why were you so pressing that Sir Charles
ihould destroy your letter? "
" If you have read the letter you will know."
" I did not say that I had read all the letter."
*' You quoted some of it."
" I quoted the postscript. The letter had, as I
laid, been burned and it was not all legible. I ask
you once again why it was that you were so press-
ing that Sir Charles should destroy this letter which
he received on the day of his death."
" The matter is a very private one."
"The more reason why you avoid a public in-
vestigation."
" I will tell you, then. If you have heard any-
thing of my unhappy history you will know that I
made a rash marriage and had reason to regret it."
" I have heard so much."
** My life has been one incessant persecution from
a husband whom I abhor. The law is upon his side,
and every day I am faced by the possibility that he
may force me to live with him. At the time that I
wrote thig letter to Sir Charles I bad learned tbat
i68
THE MAN ON IHE TO»
there was a prospect of my regaining my freedom
if certain expenses could be met. It meant every-
thing to me — peace of mind, happiness, self-respect
— everything. I knew Sir Charles's generosity,
and I thought that if he heard the story from my
own lips he would help me."
" Then how is it that you did not go? "
" Because I received help in the interval from an-
other source."
" Why, then, did you not write to Sir Charles and
explain this? "
" So I should have done had I not seen his death
in the paper next morning."
The woman's story hung coherently together,
and all my questions were unable to shake it. I
could only check it by finding if she had, indeed,
instituted divorce proceedings against her husband
at or about the time of the tragedy.
It was unlikely that she would dare to say that
she had not teen to Baskerville Hall if she really
had been, for a trap would be necessary to take her
there, and could not have returned to Coombe
Tracey until the early hours of the morning. Such
ar excursion could not be kept secret. The prob-
ability was, therefore, that she was telling the truth,
or, at least, a part of the truth. I came away baf-
fled and disheartened. Once again I had reached
that dead wall which seemed to be built across every
path by which I tried to get at the object of my
mission. And yet the more I thought of the lady's
169
THE HO0ND OP THE BA8KERVILLS8
face and of her manner the more I felt that some-
thing was being held back from me. Why should
she turn so pale? Why should she fight against
every admission until it was forced from her? Why
should she have been so reticent at the time of the
tragedy? Surely the explanation of all this could
not be as innocent as she would have me believe.
For the moment I could proceed no farther in that
direction, but must turn back to that other clue
which was to be sought for among the stone huts
upon the moor. ,
And that was a most vague direction. I realized
it as I drove back and noted how hill after hill
showed traces of the ancient people. Barrymore's
only indication had been that the stranger lived in
one of these abandoned huts, and many hundreds
of them are scattered throughout the length and
breadth of the moor. But I had my own experi-
ence for a guide since it had shown -ne the man
himself standing upon the summit ot tht Black Tor.
That then should be the centre of my search. From
there I should explore every hut upon the moor un-
til I lighted upon the right one. If this man wefe
inside it I should find out from his own lips, at the
point of my revolver if necessary, who he was and
why he had dogged us so long. He might slip
away from us in the crowd of Regent Street, but it
would puzzle him to do so upon the lonely moor.
On the other hand, if I should find the hut and its
tenant should not be within it I must remain therci,
170
THE MAN ON THE TOR
however long the vigil, until he returned. Holmes
had missed him. in London. It would indeed be a
triumph for me if I could run him to earth, where
my master had failed.
Luck had been against us again and again in this
inquiry, but now at last it came to my aid. And
the messenger of good fortune was none other than
Mr. Frankland, who was standing, grey whiskered
and red-faced, outside the gate of his garden, which
opened on to the high road along which I travelled.
" Good-day, Dr. Watson," cried he, with un-
wonted good humour, " you must really give your
horses a rest, and come in to have a glass of wine
and to congratulate me."
My feelings towards him were far from being
friendly after what I had heard of his treatment of
his daughter, but I was anxious to send Perkins and
the waggonette home, and the opportunity was a
good one. I alighted and sent a message to Sir
Henry that I should walk over in time for dinner.
Then I followed Frankland into his dining-room.
" It is a great day for me, sir — one of the red-
letter days of my life," he cried, with many chuckles,
"I have brought off- a double event. I mean to
teach them in these parts that law is law, and that
there is a man here who does not fear to invoke it.
I have established a right of way through the centre
of old Middleton's park, slap across it, sir, within
a hundred yards of his own front door. What do
you think of that? We'll teach these magnates that
171
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
they cannot ride rough shod over the rights of the
cprainoner^, confound them! And I've closed the
w«)d where the Fernworthy folk used to picnic.
These infernal people seem to think that there are
no rights ol property, and that they can swarm
where they like with their papers and their bottles.
Both cases decided, Dr. Watson, and both in my
favour. I haven't had such a day since I had Sir
John Morland for trespass, because he shot in his
own warren."
" How on earth did you do that? "
" Look it up in the books, sir. It will repay
reading — Frankland v. Morland, Court of Queen's
Bench. It cost me £200, but I got my verdict."
" Did it do you any good? "
" None, sir, none. I am proud to say that I had
no interest in the matter. I act entirely from a
sense of public duty. I have no doubt, for exam-
ple, that the Fernworthy people will burn me in
effigy to-night. I told the police last time they did
it that they should stop these disgraceful exhibi-
tions. The County Constabulary, is in a scandalous
state, sir, and it has not afforded me the protection
to which I am entitled. The case of Frankland v.
Regina will bring the matter before the attention of
the public. I told them that they would have occa-
sion to regret their treatment of me, and akeady
my words have come true."
" How so? " I asked.
The old man put on a very knowing expression.
172
THE MAN ON THE TOR
" Because I could tell them what they are dying
to know; but nothing would induce me to heipthe
rascals in any way."
I had been casting round for some excuse by
which I could get away from his gossip, but now
I began to wish to hear more of it. I had seen
enough of the contrary nature of the old sinner to
understand that any strong sign of interest would
be the surest way to stop his confidences.
" Some poaching case, no doubt? " said I, with
an indifferent manner.
" Ha, ha, my boy, a very much more important
matter than that! What about the convict on the
moor? "
I started. " You don't mean that you know
where he is? " said I.
" I may not know exactly where he is, but I am
quite sure that I could help the police to lay their
hands on him. Has it never struck you that the
way to catch that man was to find out where he
got his food, and so trace it to him? "
He certainly seemed to be getting uncomfortably
near the truth. " No doubt," said I; " but how do
you know that he is anywhere upon the moor?/'
" I know it because I have seen with my own eyes
the messenger who takes him his food."
My heart sank for Barrymore. It was a serious
thing to be in the power of this spiteful old busy-
body. But his next remark took a weight from my
mind.
ITS
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" You'll be surprised to hear that his food is taken
to him by a child. I see him every day through
my telescope upon the roof. He passes along the
same path at the same hour, and to whom should
he be going except to the convict? "
Here was luck indeed! And yet I suppressed all
appearance of interest. A child! Barrymore had
said that our unknown was supplied by a boy. It
was on his track, and not upon the convict's, that
Frankland had stumbled. If I could get his knowl-
edge it might save me a long and weary hunt. But
incredulity and indifference were evidently my
strongest cards.
" I should say that it was much more likely that
it was the son of one of the moorland shepherds
taking out his father's dinner."
The least appearance of opposition struck fire out
of the old autocrat. His eyes looked malignantly
at me, and his grey whiskers bristled like those of
an angry cat.
" Indeed, sir! " said he, pointing out over the
wide-stretching moor. " Do you see that Black
Tor over yonder? Well, do you see the low hill
beyond with the thornbrush upon it? It is the
stoniest part of the whole moor. Is that a place
where a shepherd would be likely to take his sta-
tion? Your suggestion, sir, is a most absurd one."
I meekly answered that I had spoken without
knowing all the facts. My submission pleased him
and led him to further confidences.
174
THE MAN ON THE TOR
"You may be sure, sir, that I have very good
grounds before I come to an opinion. I have seen
the boy again and again with his bundle. Every
day, and sometimes twice a day, I have been able
— but wait a moment, Dr. Watson. Do my eyes
deceive me, or is there at the present moment some-
thing moving upon that hill-side? "
It was several miles off, but I could distinctly
see a small dark dot against the dull green and
grey.
" Come, sir, come! " cried Frankland, rushing
upstairs. " You will see with your own eyes and
judge for yourself."
The telescope, a formidable instrument mounted
upon a tripod, stood upon the flat leads of the
house. Frankland clapped his eye to it and gave
a cry of satisfaction.
" Quick, Dr. Watson, quick, before he passes
over the hill!"
There he was, sure enough, a small urchin with
a little bundle upon his shoulder, toiling slowly up
the hill. When he reached the crest I saw the rag-
ged uncouth figure outlined for an instant against
the cold blue sky. He looked round him, with a
furtive and stealthy air, as one who dreads pursuit.
Then he vanished over the hill.
"Well! Am I right?"
" Certainly, there is a boy who seems to have
some secret errand."
" And what the errand is even a county constable
175
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLBI
could guess. But not one word shall they have
from me, and I bind you to secrecy also, Dr. Wat-
son. Not a word! You understand ! "
" Just as you wish."
" They have treated me shamefully — shamefully.
When the facts come out in Frankland v. Regina
I venture to think that a thrill of indignation will
run through the country. Nothing would induce
me to help the police in any way. For all they
cared it might have been me, instead of my effigy,
which these rascals burned at the stake. Surely
you are not going! You will help me to empty the
decanter in honour of this great occasion! "
But I resisted all his solicitations and succeeded
in dissuading him from his announced intention of
walking home with me. I kept the road as long
as his eye was on me, and then I struck oflf across
the moor and made for the stony hill over which
the boy had disappeared. Everything was working
in my favour, and I swore that it should not be
through lack of energy or perseverance that I
should miss the chance which Fortune had thrown
in my way.
The sun was already sinking when I reached the
summit of the hill, and the long slopes beneath me
were all golden-green on one side and grey shadow
on the other. A haze lay low upon the farthest
sky-line, out of which jutted the fantastic shapes of
Belliver and Vixen Tor. Over the wide expanse
there was no sound and no movement. One great
176
vTHE MAN ON THE TOR
grey bird, a gull or curlew, soared aloft in the blue
Heaven. |ie and I seemed to be the only living
things between the huge arch of the sky and the
desert beneath it. The barren scene, the sense of
loneliness, and the mystery and urgency of my task
all struck a chill into my heart. The boy was no-
where to be seen. But down beneath me in a cleft
of the hills there was a circle of the old stone huts,
and in the middle of them there was one which re-
tained sufficient roof to act as a screen against the
weather. My heart leaped within me as I saw il.
This must be the burrow where the stranger
lurked. At last my foot was on the threshold of
his hiding place — his secret was within my grasp.
As I approached the hut, walking as warily as
Stapleton would do when with poised net he drew
near the settled butterfly, I satisfied myself that the
place had indeed been used as a habitation. A
vague pathway among the boulders led to the
dilapidated opening which served as a door. All
was silent within. The unknown might be lurking
{here, or he might be prowling on the moor. My
Jerves tingled with the sense of adventure. Throw-
ing aside my cigarette, I closed my hand upon the
butt of my revolver and, walking swiftly up to the
door, I looked in. The place was empty.
But there were ample signs that I had not come
upon a false scent. This was certainly where the
man lived. Some blankets rolled in a waterproof
lay upon that very stone slab upon which neolithic
177
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
man had once slumbered. The ashes of a fire were
heaped in a rude grate. Beside it lay some cook-
ing utensils and a bucket half-full of water. A lit-
ter of empty tins showed that the place had bee»
occupied for some time, and I saw, as my eyes bo
came accustomed to the chequered light, a pannt
kin and a half-full bottle of spirits standing in the
corner. In the middle of the hut a flat stone served
the purpose of a table, and upon this stood a small
cloth bundle — the same, no doubt, which I had seen
through the telescope upon the shoulder of the boy.
It contained a loaf of bread, a tinned tongue, and
two tins of preserved peaches. As I set it down
again, after having examined it, my heart leaped to
see that beneath it there lay a sheet of paper with
writing upon it. I raised it, and this was what I
read, roughly scrawled in pencil: —
" Dr. Watson has gone to Coombe Tracey."
For a minute I stood there with the paper in my
hands thinking out the meaning of this curt mes-
sage. It was I, then, and not Sir Henry, who was
being dogged by this secret man. He had not fol-
lowed me himself, but he had set an agent — ^the
boy, perhaps — upon my track, and this was his re-
port. Possibly I had taken no step since I had
been upon the moor which had not been observed
and repeated. Always there was this feeling of an
unseen force, a fine net drawn round us with infinite
skill and delicacy, holding us so lightly that it was
178
THE MAN ON THE TOR
only at some supreme moment that one realized
that one was indeed entangled in its meshes.
If there was one report there might be others,
so I looked round the hut in search of them. There
was no trace, however, of anything of the kind, nor
could I discover any sign which might indicate the
character or intentions of the man who lived in this
singular place, save that he must be of Spartan hab-
its, and cared little for the comforts of life. When
I thought of the heavy rains and looked at the
gaping roof I understood how strong and immuta-
ble must be the purpose which had kept him in
that inhospitable abode. Was he our malignant
enemy, or was he by chance our guardian angel?
I swore that I would not leave the hut until I
knew.
Outside the sun was sinking low and the west
was blazing with scarlet and gold. Its reflection
was shot back in ruddy patches by the distant pools
which lay amid the great Grimpen Mire. There
were the two towers of Baskerville Hall, and there
a distant blur of smoke which marked the village
of Grimpen. Between the two, behind the hill, was
the house of the Stapletons. All was sweet and
mellow and peaceful in the golden evening light,
and yet as I looked at them my soul shared none
of the peace of nature, but quivered at the vague-
ness and the terror of that interview which every
instant was bringing nearer. With tingling nerves,
but a fixed purpose, I sat in the dark recess of the
179
THE HOUND OF THE B AS K E JIVI L L E8
hut and waited with sombre patience for the com-
ing of its tenant.
And then at last I heard him. Far away came
the sharp clink of a boot striking upon a stone.
Then another and yet another, coming nearer and
nearer. I shrank back into the darkest corner, and
cocked the pistol in my pocket, determined not to
discover myself until I had an opportunity of see-
ing something of the rtranger. There was a long
pause which showed that he had stopped. Then
once more the footsteps approached and a shadow
fell across the opening of the hut.
" It is a lovely evening, my dear Watson," said
a well-known voice. " I really think that you will
be more comfortable outside than in."
z8o
XII
Death on the Moor
FOR a moment or two I sat breathless, hard-
ly able to believe my ears. Then my senses
and my voice came back to me, while
a crushing weight of responsibility seemed in an
instant to be lifted from my soul. That cold, in-
cisive, ironical voice could belong to but one man
in all the world.
" Holmes! " I cried—" Holmes! "
" Come out," said he, " and please be careful with
the revolver."
I stooped under the rude lintel, and there he sat
upon a stone outside, his grey eyes dancing with
amusement as they fell upon my astonished feat-
ures. He was thin and worn, but clear and alert,
his keen face bronzed by the sun and roughened
by the wind. In his tweed suit and cloth cap he
looked like any other tourist upon the moor, and
he had contrived, with that cat-like love of personal
cleanliness which was one of his characteristics, that
his chin should be as smooth and his linen as per-
fect as if he were in Baker Street.
" I never was more glad to see anyone in my
life," said I, as I wrung him by the hand.
i8i
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
" Or more astonished, eh? "
" Well, I must confess to it."
" The surprise was not all on one side, I assure
you. I had no idea that you had found my occa-
sional retreat, still less that you were inside it, un-
til I was within twenty paces of the door."
" My footprint, I presume? "
" No, Watson ; I fear that I could not undertake
to recognise your footprint amid all the footprints
of the world. If you seriously desire to deceive me
you must change your tobacconist; for when I see
the stub of a cigarette marked Bradley, Oxford
Street, I know that my friend Watson is in the
neighbourhood. You will see it there beside the
path. You threw it down, no doubt, at that su-
preme moment when you charged into the empty
hut."
" Exactly."
" I thought as much — and knowing your admir-
able tenacity I was convinced that you were sitting
in ambush, a weapon within reach, waiting for the
tenant to return. So you actually thought that I
was the criminal? "
" I did not know who you were, but I was deter-
mined to find out."
" Excellent, Watson ! And how did you localize
me? You saw me, perhaps, on the night of the
convict hunt, when I was so imprudent as to allow
the moon to rise behind me? "
" Yes, I saw you then."
182
DEATH ON THE MOOR
" And have no doubt searched all the huts until
you came to this one? "
" No, your boy had been observed, and that gave
me a guide where to look."
" The old gentleman with the telescope, no doubt.
I could not make it out when first I saw the light
flashing upon the lens." He rose and peeped into
the hut. " Ha, I see that Cartwright has brought
up some supplies. What's this paper? So you
have been to Coombe Tracey, have you? "
" Yes."
" To see Mrs. Laura Lyons? "
" Exactly."
"Well done! Our researches have evidently
been running on parallel lines, and when we unite
our results I expect we shall have a fairly full knowl-
edge of the case."
" Well, I am glad from my heart that you are
here, for indeed the responsibility and the mystery
were both becoming too much for my nerves. But
how in the name of wonder did you come here, and
what have you been dcang? I thought that you
were in Baker Street working out that case of black-
mailing."
" That was what I wished- you to think."
" Then you use me, and yet do not trust mc! "
I cried, with some bitterness. " I think that I have
deserved better at your- hands, Holmes."
" My dear fellow, you have been invaluable to me
in this as in many other cases, and I beg that you
183
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
will forgive me if I have seemed to play a trick up-
on you. In truth, it was partly for your own sake
that I did it, and it was my appreciation of the dan-
ger which you ran which led me to come down and
examine the matter for myself. Had I been with
Sir Henry and you it is confident that my point of
view would have been the same as yours, and my
presence would have warned our very formidable
opponents to be on their guard. As it is, I have
been able to get about as I could not possibly have
done had I been living in the Hall, and I remain
an unknown factor in the business, ready to throw
in all my weight at a critical moment."
" But why keep me in the dark? "
" For you to know could not have helped us, and
might possibly have led to my discovery. You
would have wished to tell me something, or in your
kindness you would have brought me out some
comfort or other, and so an unnecessary risk would
be run. I brought Cartwright down with me — ^you
remember the little chap at the Express Office —
and he has seen after my simple wants: a loaf of
bread and a clean collar. What does man want
more? He has given me an extra pair of eyes
upon a very active pair of feet, and both have been
invaluable."
" Then my reports have all been wasted! " — My
voice trembled as I recalled the pains and the pride
with which I had composed them.
Holmes took a bundle of papers from his pocket
J84
DEATH ON THE MOOR
" Here are your reports, my dear fellow, and very
well thumbed, I assure you. I made excellent ar-
rangements, and they are only delayed one day up-
on their way. I must compliment you exceedingly
upon the zeal and the intelligence which you have
shown over an extraordinarily difficult case."
I was still rather raw over the deception which
had been practised upon me, but the warmth of
Holmes's praise drove my anger from my mind. I
felt also in my heart that he was right in what he
said and that it was really best for our purpose that
I should not have known that he was upon the
moor.
" That's better," said he, seeing the shadow rise
from my face. " And now tell me the result of your
visit to Mrs. Laura Lyons — it was not difficult for
me to guess that it was to see her that you had
gone, for I am already aware that she is the one
person in Coombe Tracey who might be of service
to us in the matter. In fact, if you had not gone
to-day it is exceedingly probable that I should have
gone to-morrow."
The sun had set and dusk was settling over the
moof. The air had turned chill and we withdrew
into the hut for warmth. There, sitting together
in the twilight, I told Holmes of my conversation
with the lady. So interested was he that I had to
repeal some of it twice before he was satisfied.
" This is most important," said he, when I had
concluded. " It fills up a gap which I had been
i8S
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
unable to bridge, in this most complex affair. You
are aware, perhaps, that a close intimacy exists be-
tween this lady and the man Stapleton? "
" I did not know of a close intimacy."
" There can be no doubt about the matter. They
meet, they write, there is a complete understanding
between them. Now, this puts a very powerful
weapon into our hands. If I could only use it to
detach his wife "
" His wife? "
" I am giving you some information now, in re-
turn for all that you have given me. The lady who
has passed here as Miss Stapleton is in reality his
wife."
" Good heavens, Holmes! Are you sure of what
you say? How could he have permitted Sir Henry
to fall in love with her? "
" Sir Henry's falling in love could do no harm to
anyone except Sir Henry. He took particular care
that Sir Henry did not make love to her, as you
have yourself observed. I repeat that the lady is
his wife and not his sister."
" But why this elaborate deception? "
" Because he foresaw that she would be very
much more useful to him in the character of a free
woman."
All my unspoken instincts, my vague suspicions,
suddenly took shape and centred upon the natural-
ist. In that impassive, colourless man, with his
straw hat and his butterfly-net, I seemed to see
1 86
DEATH ON THE MOOR
something terrible — a creature of infinite patience
and craft, with a smihng face and a murderous heart.
" It is he, then, who is our enemy — it is he whQ
dogged us in London? "
" So I read the riddle."
"And the warning — it must have come from
her! "
" Exactly."
The shape of some monstrous villainy, half seen,
half guessed, loomed through the darkness which
had girt me so long.
" But are you sure of this. Holmes? How do
you know that the woman is his wife? "
" Because he so far forgot himself as to tell you
a true piece of autobiography upon the occasion
when he first met you, and I daresay he has many
a time regretted it since. He was once a school-
master in the North of England. Now, there is no
one more easy to trace than a schoolmaster. There
are scholastic agencies by which one may identify
any man who has been in the profession. A little
investigation showed me that a school had come to
grief under atrocious circumstances, and that the
man who had owned it — the name was different
— had disappeared with his wife. The descriptions
agreed. When I learned that the missing man was
devoted to entomology the identification was com-
plete."
The darkness was rising, but much was still hid-
den by the shadows.
187
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" If this woman is in truth his wife, where does
Mrs. Laura Lyons come in? " I asked.
" That is one of the points upon which your own
researches have shed a light. Your interview with
the lady has cleared the situation very much. I did
not know about a projected divorce between her-
self and her husband. In that case, regarding Sta-
pleton as an unmarried man, she counted no doubt
upon becoming his wife."
" And when she is undeceived? "
" Why, then we may find the lady of service. It
must be our first duty to see her — ^both of us — ^to-
morrow. Don't you think, Watson, that you are
away from your charge rather long? Your place
should be at Baskerville Hall."
The last red streaks had faded away in the west
and night had settled upon the moor. A few faint
stars were gleaming in a violet sky.
" One last question. Holmes," I said, as I rose.
" Surely there is no need of secrecy between you
and me. What is the meaning of it all? What is
he after? "
Holmes's voice sank as he answered: —
" It is murder, Watson — refined, cold-blooded,
deliberate murder. Do not ask me for particulars.
My nets are closing uoon him, even as his are upon
Sir Henry, and with your help he is already almost
at my mercy. There is but one danger which can
threaten us. It is that he should strike before we
are ready to do so. Another day — ^two at the most
188
DEATH ON THE MOOR
— and I have my case ^complete, but until then
guard your charge as closely as ever a fond mother
watched her ailing child. Your mission to-day has
justified itself, and yet I could almost wish that you
had not left his side— Hark! "
A terrible scream — a prolonged yell of horror and
anguish burst out of the silence of the moor. That
frightful cry turned the blood to ice in my veins.
"Oh, my God! "I gasped. "What is it? What
does it mean? "
Holmes had sprung to his feet, and I saw his
dark, athletic outline at the door of the hut, his
shoulders stooping, his head thrust forward, his face
peering into the darkness.
" Hush ! " he whispered. " Hush ! "
The cry had been loud on account of its vehe-
mence, but it had pealed out from somewhere far
off on the shadowy plain. Now it burst upon our
ears, nearer, louder, more urgent than before.
" Where is it? " Holmes whispered; and I knew
from the thrill of his voice that he, the man of
iron, was shaken to the soul. " Where is it, Wat-
son?"
" There, I think." I pointed into the darkness.
" No, there! "
Again the agonized cry swept through the silent
night, louder and much nearer than ever. And a
new sound mingled with it, a deep, muttered rum-
ble, musical and yet menacing, rising and faUiag like
tfee kw, ooBStecti murmur of Uae 9e»'
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" The hound! " cried Holmes. " Come, Watson,
come! Great heavens, if we are too late! "
He had started running swiftly over the moor, and
I had followed at his heels. But now from some-
where among the broken ground immediately in
front of us there came one last despairing yell, and
then a dull, heavy thud. We halted and listened.
Not another sound broke the heavy silence of the
windless night.
I saw Holmes put his hand to his forehead like
a man distracted. He stamped his feet upon the
ground.
" He has beaten us, Watson. We are too late."
" No, no, surely not! "
" Fool that I was to hold my hand. And you,
Watson, see what comes of abandoning your
charge! But, by Heaven, if the worst has hap-
pened, we'll avenge him! "
Blindly we ran through the gloom, blundering
against boulders, forcing our way through gorse
bushes, panting up hills and rushing down slopes,
heading always in the direction whence those dread-
ful sounds had come. At every rise Holmes looked
eagerly round him, but the shadows were thick up-
on the moor, and nothing moved upon its dreary
face.
" Can you see anything? "
" Nothing."
" But, hark, what is that? "
A low moan had fallen upon otu* ears. There it
190
It was a prostrate man, face downwards.
DEATH ON THE MOOR
938 again upon our left! On that side a ridge of
ocks ended in a sheer cliff which overlooked a
stone-strewn slope. On its jagged face was spread-
eagled some dark, irregular object. As we ran
towards it the vague outline hardened into a defi-
nite shape. It was a prostrate man face downwards
upon the ground, the head doubled under him at
a horrible angle, the shoulders rounded and the
body hunched together as if in the act of throwing
a summersault. So grotesque was the attitude that
I could not for the instant realise that that moan
had been the passing of his soul. Not a whisper,
not a rustle, rose now from the dark figure over
which we stooped. Holmes laid his hand upon
him, and held it up again, with an exclamation of
horror. The gleam of the match which he struck
shone upon his clotted fingers and upon the ghastly
pool which widened slowly from the crushed skull
of the victim. And it shone upon something else
which turned our hearts sick and faint within us-^
the body of Sir Henry Baskerville!
There was no chance of either of us forgetting
that peculiar ruddy tweed suit — ^the very one which
he had worn on the first morning that we had seen
him in Baker Street. We caught the one clear
glimpse of it, and then the match flickered and went
out, even as the hope had gone out of our souls.
Holmes groaned, and his face glimmered white
through the darkness.
"The brute! the brute! " I cried, with clenched
191
THE HOUND OF THE B A S K E R V I L - £ S
hands. " Oh, Holmes, I shall never forgive myself
for having left him to his fate."
" I am more to blame the a you, Watson. In or-
der to have my case well rounded and complete, I
have thrown away the life of my client. It is the
greatest blow which has befallen me in my career.
But how could I know — how could I know — ^that
he would risk his life alone upon the moor in the
face of all my warnings? "
" That we should have heard his screams — ^my
God, those screams! — and yet have been unable to
save him! Where is this brute of a hound which
drove him to his death? It may be lurking among
these rocks at this instant. And Stapleton, where
is he? He shall answer for this deed."
" He shall. I will see to that. Uncle and
nephew have been murdered — the one frightened to
death by the very sight of a beast which he thought
to be supernatural, the other driven to his end in
his wild flight to escape from it. But now we have
to prove the connection between the man and the
beast. Save from what we heard, we cannot even
swear to the existence of the latter, since Sir Henry
has evidently died from the fall. But, by heavens,
cunning as he is, the fellow shall be in my power
before another day is past ! "
We stood with bitter hearts on either side of the
mangled body, overwhelmed by this sudden and ir-
revocable disaster which had brought all our long
and weary labours to so piteous an end. Then, as
192
DEATH ON THE MOOR
the moon rose, we climbed to the top of the rocks
over which our poor friend had fallen, and from the
summit we gazed out over the shadowy moor, half
silver and half gloom. Far away, miles off, in the
direction of Grimpen, a single steady yellow light
was shining. It could only come from the lonely
abode of the Stapletons. With a bitter curse I
shook my fist at it as I gazed.
" Why should we not seize him at once? "
" Our case is not complete. The fellow is wary
and cunning to the last degree. It is not what we
know, but what we can prove. If we make one
false move the villain may escape us yet."
" What can we do? "
"There will be plenty for us to do to-morrow.
To-night we can only perform the last ofifices to our
poor friend."
Together we made our way down the precipitous
slope and approached the body, black and clear
against the silvered stones. The agony of those
contorted limbs struck me with a spasm of pain and
blurred my ey«s with tears.
"We must send for help. Holmes! We cannot
carry him all the way to the Hall. Good heavens,
are you mad? "
He had uttered a cry and bent over the body.
Now he was dancing and laughing and wringing my
hand. Could this be my stern, self-contained
friend? These were hidden fires, indeed!
" A beard ! A beard ! The man has a beard ! "
193
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
" A beard? "
"It is not the baronet — ^it is — ^why, it is my
neighbour, the convict! "
With feverish haste we had turned the body over,
and that dripping beard was pointing up to the cold,
clear moon. There could be no doubt about the
beetling forehead, the sunken animal eyes. It was,
indeed, the same face which had glared upon me
in the light of the candle from over the rock — the
face of Selden, the criminal.
Then in an instant it was all clear to me. I re-
membered how the baronet had told me that he
had handed his old wardrobe to Barrymore. Bar-
rymore had passed it on in order to help Selden
in his escape. Boots, shirt, cap — it was all Sir
Henry's. The tragedy was still black enough, but
this man had at least deserved death by the laws
of his country. I told Holmes how the matter
stood, my heart bubbling over with thankfulness
and joy.
" Then the clothes have been the poor devil's
death," said he. " It is clear enough that the
hound has been laid on from some article of Sir
Henry's^ — the boot which was abstracted in the
hotel, in all probability — ^and so ran this man down.
There is one very singular thing, however: How
came Selden, in the darkness, to know that the
hound was on his trail? "
" He heard him."
"To hear a hound upon the moor would not
194
DEATH ON THE MOOR
work a hard man like this convict into such a
paroxysm of terror that he would risk recapture by
screaming wildly for help. By his cries he must
have run a long way after he knew the animal was
on his track. How did he know? "
"A greater mystery to me is why this hound,
presuming that all our conjectures are correct "
" I presume nothing."
" Well, then, why this hound should be loose to-
night. I suppose that it does not always run loose
upon the moor. Stapleton would not let it go un-
less he had reasbn to think that Sir Henry would
be there."
" My difficulty is the more formidable of the two,
for I think that we shall very shortly get an ex-
planation of yours, while mine may remain for ever
a mystery. The question now is, what shall we do
with this poor wretch's body? We cannot leave it
here to the foxes and the ravens."
" I suggest that we put it in one of the huts un-
til we can communicate with the police."
" Exactly. I have no doubt that you and I could
carry it so far. Halloa, Watson, what's this? It's
the man himself, by all that's wonderful and auda-
cious! Not a word to show your suspicions — not a
word, or liiy plans crumble to the ground."
A figure was approaching us over the moor, and
I saw the dull red glow of a cigar. The moon
shone upon him, and I could distinguish the
dapper shape and jaunty walk of the naturalist.
195
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
He stopped when he saw us, and then came on
again.
" Why, Dr. Watson, that's not you, is it? You
are the last man that I should have expected to
see out on the moor at this time of night. But,
dear me, what's this? Somebody hurt? Not —
don't tell me that it is our friend Sir Henry! " He
hurried past me and stooped over the dead man.
I heard a sharp intake of his breath and the cigar
fell from his fingers.
" Who — who's this? " he stammered.
" It is Selden, the man who escaped from Prince-
town."
Stapleton turned a ghastly face upon us, but by
a supreme effort he had overcome his amazement
and his disappointment. He looked sharply from
Holmes to me.
" Dear me! What a very shocking affair! How
did he die? "
" He appears to have broken his neck by falling
over these rocks. My friend and I were strolling
on the moor when we heard a cry."
" I heard a cry also. That was what brought me
out. I was uneasy about Sir Henry."
" Why about Sir Henry in particular? " I could
not help asking.
" Because I had suggested that he should come
over. When he did not come I was surprised, and
I naturally became alarmed for his safety when I
heard cries upon the moor. By the way " — ^his eyes
196
DEATH ON THE MOOR
darted again from my face to Holmes's — " did you
hear anything else besides a cry? "
" No," said Holmes; " did you? "
" No."
" What do you mean, then? "
" Oh, you know the stories that the peasants tell
about a phantom hound, and so on. It is said to
be heard at night upon the moor. I was wondering
if there were any. evidence of such a sound to-
night."
" We heard nothing of the kind," said I.
" And what is your theory of this poor fellow's
death? "
" I have no doubt that anxiety and exposure
have driven him oflf his head. He has rushed about
the moor in a crazy state and eventually fallen over
here and broken his neck."
"That seems the most reasonable theory," said
Stapleton, and he gave a sigh which I took to indi-
cate his relief. " What do you think about it, Mr.
Sherlock Holmes? "
My friend bowed his compliments.
" You are quick at identification," said he.
" We have been expecting you in these parts
since Dr. Watson came down. You are in time to
see a tragedy."
" Yes, indeed. I have no doubt that my friend's
explanation will cover the facts. I will take an un-
pleasant remembrance back to London with me to-
morrow."
197
THE HOUND OF THE B ASK E R VU,3,»«
" Oh, you return to-morrow? "
" That is my intention."
" I hope your visit has cast some light upon those
occurrences which have puzzled us? "
Holmes shrugged his shoulders.
" One cannot always have the success for which
one hopes. An investigator needs facts, and not
legends or rumours. It has not been a satisfactory
case."
My friend spoke in his frankest and most uncon-
cerned manner. Stapleton still looked hard at him.
Then he turned to me.
" I would suggest carrying this poor fellow to
my house, but it would give my sister such a fright
that I do not feel justified in doing it. I think that
if we put something over his face he will be safe
until morning."
And so it was arranged. Resisting Stapleton's
offer of hospitality, Holmes and I set off to Basker-
ville Hall, leaving the naturalist to return alone.
Looking back we saw the figure moving slowly
away over the broad moor, and behind him that one
black smudge on the silvered slope which showed
where the man was lying who had come so horribly
to his end.
198
XIII
Fixing the Net»
WE'RE at close grips at last," said
Holmes, as we walked together across
the moor. " What a nerve the fellow
has! How he pulled himself together in the face
of what must have been a paralyzing shock when he
found that the wrong man had fallen a victim to his
plot. I told you in London, Watson, and I tell you
now again, that we have never had a foeman mor?
worthy of our steel."
" I am sorry that he has seen you."
" And so was I at first. But there was no get-
ting out of it."
" What effect do you think it will have upon his
plans, now that he knows you are here? "
" It may cause him to be more cautious, or it may
drive him to desperate measures at once. Like
most clever criminals, he may be too confident in
his own cleverness and imagine that he has com*
pletely deceived us."
" Why should we not arrest him at once? "
* My dear Watson, you were bom to be a man
lOi action. Your instinct is always to do something
energetic. But supposing, for argument's sake,
that we had him arrested to-night, what on eartb
THE HOUND OF THE B AS IR E » V R lUJtE*
the better oflf should we be for that? We could
prove nothing against him. There's the devilish
cunning of it! If he were acting through a human
agent we could get some evidence, but if we were
to drag this great dog to the light of day it would
not help us in putting a rope round the neck of its
master."
" Surely we have a case."
" Not a shadow of one— only surmise and con-
jecture. We should be laughed out of court if we
came with such a story and such evidence."
" There is Sir Charles's death."
" Found dead without a mark upon him. "Vou
and I know that he died of sheer fright, and we
know also what frightened him ; but how are we to
get twelve stolid jurymen to know it? What signs
are there of a hound? Where are the marks of its
fangs? Of course, we know that a hound does not
bite a dead body and that Sir Charles was dead be-
fore ever the brute overtook him. But we have
to prove all this, and we are not in a position to
do it."
" Well, then, to-night? "
" We are not much better off to-night. Again,
there was no direct connection between the hound
and the man's death. We never saw the hound.
We heard it; but we could not prove that it was
funning upon this man's trail. There is a complete
absence of motive. No, my dear fellow; we must
m:X»M:Jle outsdvee to the fact that we have no asA
WiXtfSQ TH» WETS
«t present, and that it is worth our while to na
any risk in order to establish one."
" And how do you propose to do so? "
" I have great hopes of what Mrs. Laura Lyons
may do for us when the position of affairs is made
clear to her. And I have my own plan as well.
Sufficient for to-moriow is the evil thereof; but I
hope before the day is past to have the upper hand
at last."
I could draw nothing further from him, and he
walked, lost in thought, as far as the Baskerville
gates.
" Are you coming up? "
"Yes; I see no reason for further concealment.
But one last word, Watson. Say nothing of the
hound to Sir Henry. Let him think that Selden's
death was as Stapleton would have us believe. He
will have a better nerve for the ordeal which he will
have to undergo to-morrow, when he is engaged,
if I remember your report aright, to dine with these
people."
" And so am L"
"Then you must excuse yourself and he must
go alone. That will be easily arranged. And now,
if we are too late for dinner, I think that we are
both ready for our suppers."
Sir Henry was more pleased than surprised to see
Sherlock Holmes, for he had for some days been
expecting that recent events would bring him down
from London. He did raise his eyebrows, however,
20I
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEJ
, when he found that my friend had neither anjn lug-
gage nor any explanations for its absence. ^Be-
tween us we soon supplied his wants, and then over
a belated supper we explained to the baronet as
much of our experience as it seemed desirable that
he should know. But first I had the unpleasant
duty of breaking the news to Barrymore and his
wife. To him it may have been an u imitigated re-
lief, but she wept bitterly in her apron. To all the
world he was the man of violence, half animal and
half demon; but to her he always remained the little
wilful boy of her own girlhood, the child who had
clung to her hand. Evil indeed is the man v.'ho
has not one woman to mourn him.
" I've been moping in the house all day since
Watson went off in the morning," said the baronet.
" I guess I should have some credit, for I have kept
my promise. If I hadn't sworn not to go about
alone I might have had a more lively evening, for I
had a message from Stapleton asking me over
there."
" I have no doubt that you would have had a
more lively evening," said Holmes, drily. " By the
way, I don't suppose you appreciate that we have
been mourning over you as having broken your
neck? "
Sir Henry opened his eyes. " How was that? "
" This poor wretch was dressed in your clothes.
I fear your servant who gave them to him may get
into trouble with the police."
202
FIXING THE NETS
" That is unlikely. There was no mark on any
of them, as far as I know."
" That's lucky for him — ^in fact, it's lucky for all
of you, since you are all on the wrong side of the
law in this matter. I am not sure that as a con-
scientious detective my first duty" is not to arrest
the whole household. Watson's reports are most
incriminating documents."
" But how about the case? " asked the baronet,
" Have you made anything out of the tangle? I
don't know that Watson and I are much the wiser
since we came down."
" I think that I shall be in a position to make the
situation rather more clear to you before long. It
has been an exceedingly difficult and most compli-
cated business. There are several points uppn
which we still want light — but it is coming all the
same."
" We've had one experience, as Watson has no
doubt told you. We heard the hound on the moor,
so I can swear that it is not all empty supefstition.
I had something to do with dogs when I was out
West, and I know one when I hear one. If you can
muzzle that one and put him on a chain I'll be ready
to swear you are the greatest detective of all time.^*
" I think I will muzzle him and chain him all
right if you will give me your help."
" Whatever you tell me to do I will do."
"Very good; and I will ask you also to do it
blindly, without always asking the reason."
203
THE HOUND OF THF BASKERVILLBS
" Just as you like."
" If you will do this I think the chances are that
our little problem will soon be solved. I have no
doubt "
He stopped suddenly and stared fixedly up over
my head into the air. The lamp beat upon his face,
and so intent was it and so still that it might have
been that of a clear-cut classical statue, a personifi-
cation of alertness and expectation.
" What is it? " we both cried.
I could see as he looked down that he was re-
pressing some internal emotion. His features were
still composed, but his eyes shone with amused ex-
ultation.
" Excuse the admiration of a connoisseur," said
he, as he waved his hand towards the line of por-
traits which covered the opposite wall. " Watson
won't allow that I know anything of art, but that is
;nere jealousy, because our views upon the subject
differ. Now, these are a really very fine series of
portraits."
" Well, I'm glad to hear you say so," said Sir
Henry, glancing with some surprise at my friend.
" I don't pretend to know much about these things,
and I'd be a better judge of a horse or a steer than
of a picture. I didn't know that you found time for
such things."
" I know what is good when I see it, and I see
it now. That's a Kneller, I'll swear, that lady in
the blue silk over yonder, and the stout gentleman
204
FIXING THE NETS
with the wig ought to be a Reynolds. They are all
family portraits, I presume? "
" Every one."
" Do you know the names? "
" Barrymore has been coaching me in them, and
I think I can say my lessons fairly well."
" Who is the gentleman with the telescope? "
" That is Rear-Admiral Baskerville, who served
under Rodney in the West Indies. Tht man with
the blue coat and the roll of paper is Sir William
Baskerville, who was Chairman of Committees of
the House of Commons under Pitt."
" And this Cavalier opposite to me — the one with
the black velvet and the lace? "
" Ah, you have a right to know about him. That
is the cause of all the mischief, the wicked Hugo,
who started the Hound of the Baskervilles. We're
not likely to forget him."
I gazed with interest and some surprise upon the
portrait.
"Dear me!" said Holmes, "he seems a quiet,
meek-mannered man enough, but I daresay that
there was a lurking devil in his eyes. I had pict-
ured him as a more robust and ruffianly person."
" There's no doubt about the authenticity, for the
name and the date, 1647, are on the back of the
canvas."
Holmes said little more, but the picture of the
old roysterM- seemed to have a fascination for him,
and his eyes w«re continually fixed iipctn it dum^
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
supper. It was not until later, when Sir Henry had
gone to his room, that I was able to follow the
trend of his thoughts. He led me back into the
banqueting-hall, his bedroom candle in his hand,
and he held it up against the time-stained portrait
on the wall.
" Do you see anything there? "
I looked at the broad plumed hat, the curling
love-locks, the white lace collar, and the straight,
severe face which was framed between them. It
was not a brutal countenance, but it was prim, hard,
and stern, with a firm-set, thin-lipped mouth, and
a coldly intolerant eye.
" Is it like anyone you know? "
" There is something of Sir Henry about the
jaw."
"Just a suggestion, perhaps. But wait an in-
stant! " He stood upon a chair, and holding up
the light in his left hand he curved his right arm
over the broad hat and round the long ringlets.
" Good heavens! " I cried, in amazement.
The face of Stapleton had sprung out of the can-
vas.
" Ha, you see it now. My eyes have been trained
to examine faces and not their trimmings. It is the
first quality of a criminal investigator that he should
see through a disguise."
" But this is marvellous. It might be his por-
trait."
" Ye$, it is an interesting instance of a throw
ato6
He stood upon a chair, and curved his right arm
over the broad hat and round the
long ringlets.
FIXING THE NETS
back, which appears to be both physical and spir-
itual. A study of family portraits is enough to con-
vert a man to the doctrine of reincarnation. The
fellow is a Baskerville — that is evident."
" With designs upon the succession."
" Exactly. This chance of the picture has sup-
plied us with one of our most obvious missing links.
We have him, Watson, we have him, and I dare
swear that before to-morrow night he will be flut-
tering in our net a:s helpless as one of his own but-
terflies. A pin, a cork, and a cord, and we add him
to the Baker Street collection 1 " He burst into
one of his rare fits of laughter as he turned away
from the picture. I have not heard him laugh of-
ten, and it has always boded ill to somebody.
I was up betimes in the morning, but Holmes
was afoot earli er stil l, for I saw him as I dressed
coming up the drive.
" Yes, we should have a full day to-day," he re-
marked, and he rubbed his hands with the joy of
action. " The nets are all in place, and the drag
is about to begin. We'll know before the day is out
whether we have caught our big, lean-jawed pike,
or whether he has got through the meshes."
" Have you been on the moor already? "
" I have sent a report from Grimpen to Prince-
town as to the death of Selden. I think I can
promise that none of you will be troubled in the
matter. And I have also communicated with my
faithful Cartwright, who would certainly have pined
397
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLB8
away at the door of my hut, as a dog does at his
master's grave, if I had not set his mind at rest about
my safety."
" What is the next move? "
" To see Sir Henry. Ah, here he is! "
" Good morning, Holmes," said the baronet.
" You look like a general who is planning a battle
with his chief of the staff."
" That is the exact situation. Watson was ask-
ing for orders."
" And so do I."
" Very good. You are engaged, as I under-
stand, to dine with our friends the Stapletons to-
night."
" I hope that you will come also. They are very
hospitable people, and I am sure that they would
be very glad to see you."
" I fear that Watson and I must go to London."
"To London?"
" Yes, I think that we should be more useful
there at the present juncture."
The baronet's face perceptibly lengthened.
" I hoped that you were going to see me through
this business. The Hall and the moor are not very
pleasant places when one is alone."
" My dear fellow, you must trust me implicitly
and do exactly what I tell you. You can tell your
friends that we should have been happy to have
come with you, but that urgent business required us
to be in town. We hope very soon to return to
208
FIXING THE NETS
Devonshire. Will you remember to give them that
message? "
" If you insist upon it."
" There is no alternative, I assure you."
I saw by the barbnet's clouded brow that he was
deeply hurt by what he regarded as our desertion.
" When do you desire to go? " he asked, coldly.
" Immediately after breakfast. We will drive in
to Coombe Tracey, but Watson will leave his things
as a pledge that he will come back to you. Wat-
son, you will send a note to Stapleton to tell him
that you regret that you cannot come."
" I have a good mind to go to London with you,"
said the baronet. "Why should I stay here alone?"
" Because it is your post of duty. Because you
gave me your word that you would do as you were
told, and I tell you to stay."
"All right, then, I'll stay."
" One more direction! I wish you to drive to
Merripit House. Send back your trap, however,
and let them know that you intend to walk home."
" To walk across the moor? "
" Yes."
" But that is the very thing which you have so
often cautioned me not to do."
" This time you may do it with safety. If I had
not every confidence in your nerve and courage I
would not suggest it, but it is essential that you
should do it."
" Then I will do it."
209
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
" And as you value your life do not go across the
moor in any direction save along the straight path
which leads from Merripit House to the Grimpen
Road, and is your natural way home."
" I will do just what you say."
" Very good. I should be glad to get away as
soon after breakfast as possible, so as to reach Lon-
don in the afternoon."
I was much astounded by this programme,
though I remembered that Holmes had said to Sta-
pleton on the night before that his visit would
terminate next day. It had not crossed my mind,
however, that he would wish me to go with him,
nor could I understand how we could both be ab-
sent at a moment which he himself declared to be
critical. There was nothing for it, however, but
implicit obedience; so we bade good-bye to our rue-
ful friend, and a couple of hours afterwards we were
at the station of Coombe Tracey and had dispatched
the trap upon its return journey. A small boy was
waiting upon the platform.
" Any orders, sir? "
" You will take this train to town, Cartwright.
The moment you arrive you will send a wire to Sir
Henry Baskerville, in my name, to say that if he
finds the pocket-book which I have dropped he is
to send it by registered post to Baker Street."
" Yes, sir."
" And ask at the station office if there is a mes-
sage for me."
2IO
FIXING THE NETS
The boy returned with a telegram, which Holmes
handed to me. It ran: " Wire received. Coming
down with unsigned warrant. Arrive five-forty. —
Lestrade."
" That is in answer to mine of this morning. He
is the best of the professionals, I think, and we may
need his assistance. Now, Watson, I think that we
cannot employ our time better than by calling upon
your acquaintance, Mrs. Laura Lyons."
His plan of campaign was beginning to be evi-
dent. He would use the baronet in order to con-
vince the Stapletons that we were really gone, while
we should actually return at the instant when we
were likely to be needed. That telegram from
London, if mentioned by Sir Henry to the Staple-
tons, must remove the last suspicions from their
minds. Already I seemed to see our nets drawing
closer round that lean-jawed pike.
Mrs. Laura Lyons was in her office, and Sherlock
Holmes opened his interview with a frankness and
directness which considerably amazed her.
" I am investigating the circumstances which at-
tended the death of the late Sir Charles Basker-
ville," said he. " My friend here, Dr. Watson, has
informed me of what you have communicated, and
also of what you have withheld in connection with
that matter."
"What have I withheld?" she asked, defiantly.
" You have confessed that you asked Sir Charles
to be at the gate at ten o'clock. We know that
211
THE HOUND OF THE B A S K E R.V I LL E S
that was the place and hour of his death. You have
withheld what the connection is between these
events."
" There is no connection."
" In that case the coincidence must indeed be ao
extraordinary one. But I think that we shall suc-
ceed in establishing a connection after all. I wish
to be perfectly frank with you, Mrs. Lyons. We
regard this case as one of murder, and the evidence
may implicate not only your friend Mr. Stapleton,
but his wife as well,"
The lady sprang from her chair.
" His wife! " she cried.
"The fact is no longer a secret. The person
who has passed for his sister is really his wife."
Mrs. Lyons had resumed her seat. Her hands
were grasping the arms of her chair, and I saw that
the pink nails had turned white with the pressure
of her grip.
" His wife! " she said, again. " His wife! .He
is not a married man."
Sherlock Holmes shrugged his shoulders.
" Prove it to me! Prove it to me! And if you
can do so ! " The fierce flash of her eyes said
more than any words.
" I have come prepared to do so," said Holmes,
drawing several papers from his pocket. " Here is
a photograph of the couple taken in York four
years ago. It is indorsed ' Mr. and Mrs. Vande-
leur,' but you will have no difficulty in recognising
912
FIXING THE NETS
him, and her also, if you know her by sight. Here
are three written descriptions by trustworthy wit-
nesses of Mr. and Mrs. Vandeleur, who at that time
kept St. Oliver's private school. Read them, and
see if you can doubt the identity of these people."
She glanced at them, and then looked up at us
with the set, rigid face of a desperate woman.
" Mr. Holmes," she said, " this man had offered
me marriage or condition that I could get a divorce
from my husband. He has lied to me, the villain,
in every conceivable way. Not one word of truth
has he ever told me. And why — why? I imag-
ined that all was for my own sake. But now I see
that I was never anything but a tool in his hands.
Why should I preserve faith with him who never
kept any with me? Why should I try to shield him
from the consequences of his own wicked acts?
Ask me what you like, and there is nothing which
I shall hold back. One thing I swear to you, and
that is, that when I wrote the letter I never dreamed
of any harm to the old gentleman, who had been
my kindest friend."
" I entirely believe you, madam," said Sherlock
Holmes. "The recital of these events must be
very painful to you, and perhaps it will make it
easier if I tell you what occurred, and you can check
me if I make any material mistake. The sending
of this letter was suggested to you by Stapleton? "
" He dictated it."
" I presume that the reason he gave was that yoa
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
would receive help from Sir Charles for the legal
expenses connected with your divorce? "
" Exactly."
" And then after you had sent the letter he dis-
suaded you from keeping the appointment? "
" He told me that it would hurt his self-respect
that any other man should find the money for such
an object, and that though he was a poor man him-
self he would devote his last penny to removing the
obstacles which divided us."
" He appears to be a very consistent character.
And then you heard nothing until you read the re-
ports of the death in the paper? "
" No."
" And he made you swear to say nothing about
your appointment with Sir Charles? "
" He did. He said that the death was a very
mysterious one, and that I should certainly be sus-
pected if the facts came out. He frightened me
into remaining silent."
" Quite so. But you had your suspicions? "
She hesitated and looked down.
" I knew him," she said. " But if he had kept
faith with me I should always have done so with
him."
" I think that on the whole you have had a fortu-
nate escape," said Sherlock Holmes. " You have
had him in your power and he knew it, and yet you
are alive. You have been walking for some months
Yery near to the edge of a precipice. We must
214
FIXING THE NETS
wish you good morning now, Mrs. Lyons, and it is
probable that you will very shortly hear from us
again."
" Our case becomes rounded off, and difficulty
after difficulty thins away in front of us," said
Holmes, as we stood waiting for the arrival of the
express from town. " I shall soon be in the posi-
tion of being able to put into a single connected
narrative one of the most singular and sensational
crimes of modern times. Students of criminology
will remember the analogous incidents in Godno,
in Little Russia, in the year '66, and of course there
are the Anderson murders in North Carolina, but
this case possesses some features which are entirely
its own. Even now we have no clear case against
this very wily man. But I shall be very much sur-
prised if it is not clear enough before we go to bed
this night."
The London express came roaring into the sta-
tion, and a small, wiry bulldog of a man had sprung
from a first-class carriage. We all three shook
hands, and I saw at once from the reverential way
in which Lestrade gazed at my companion that he
had learned a good deal since the days when they
had first worked together. I could well remember
the scorn which the theories of the reasoner used
then to excite in the practical man.
" Anything good? " he asked.
"The biggest thing for years," said Holmes.
" We have two hours before we need think of start*
3!5
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
ing. I think we might employ it in getting some
dinner, and then, Lestrade, we will take the London
fog out. of your throat by giving you a breath of
the pure night air of Dartmoor. Never been there?
Ah, well, I don't suppose you will forget your first
visit."
:»X6
XIV
The Houkd of the Baskervilles
ONE of Sherlock Holmes's defects — if, in-
deed, one may call it a defect — was that he
was exceedingly loth to communicate his
full plans to any other person until the instant of
their fnlfilinent — Partly it came no doubt from his
own masterful nature, which loved to dominate and
surprise those who were around him. Partly also
from his professional caution, which urged him
never to take any chances. The result, however,
was very trying for those who were acting as his
agents and assistants. I had often suffere d unj ^er
it, but never more so than during that long drive in
the darkness. The great ordeal was in front of us;
at last we were about to make our final effort, and
yet Holmes had said nothing, and I could only sur-
mise what his course of action would be. My
nerves thrilled with anticipation when at last the
cold wind upon our faces and the dark, void spaces
on either side of the narrow road told me that wt
were back upon the moor once again. Every stridt
of the horses and every turn of the wheels was tak-
ing us nearer to our supreme adventure.
Our conversation was hampered by the presence
of the driver of the hired wagonette, so that we were
21^
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLKS
forced to talk of trivial matters when our nerves
were tense with emotion and anticipation. It was a
relief to me, after that unnatural restraint, when we
at last passed Frankland's house and knew that we
were drawing near to the Hall and to the scene of
action. We did not drive up to the door, but got
down near the gate of the avenue. The wagonette
was paid off and ordered to return to Coombe
Tracey forthwith, while we started to walk to Mer-
ripit House.
" Are you armed, Lestrade? "
The little detective smiled.
"As long as I have my trousers I have a hip-
pocket, and as long as I have my hip-pocket I have
something in it."
" Good ! My friend and I are also ready for
emergencies."
" You're mighty close about this affair, Mr.
Holmes. What's the game now? "
"A waiting game."
" My word, it does not seem a very cheerful
place," said the detective, with a shiver, glancing
round him at the gloomy slopes of the hill and
at the huge lake of fog which lay over the Grim-
pen Mire. " I see the lights of a house ahead of
us."
" That is Merripit House and the end of our jour-
ney. I must request you to walk on tiptoe and
not to talk above a whisper."
We moved cautiously along the track as if we
218
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
were bound for the house, but Holmes halted us
when we were about two hundred yards from it.
"■ This will do," said he. " These rocks upon thr
right make an admirable screen."
" We are to wait here? "
" "V es, we shall make our little ambush here. Get
into this hollow, Lestrade. You have been inside
the house, have you not, Watson? Can you tell
the position of the rooms? What are those latticed
windows at this end? "
" I think they are the kitchen w indows."
" And the one beyond, which shines so bright-
ly?"
" That is certainly the dining-room."
" The blinds are up. You know the lie of the
land best. Creep forward quietly and see what they
are doing — but for heaven's sake don't let them
know that they are watched! "
I tiptoed down the path and stooped behind the
low wall which surrounded the stunted orchard.
Creeping in its shadow I reached a point whence I
could look straight through the uncurtained win-
dow.
There were only two men in the rocm, Sir Henry
and Stapleton. They sat with their profiles tow-
ards me on either side of the round table. Both of
them were smoking cigars, and coffee and wine were
in front of them. Stapleton was talking with ani-
mation, but the baronet looked pale and distrait.
Perhaps the thought of that lonely walk across the
219
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
ill-omened moor was weighing heavily upon his
mind.
As I watched them Stapleton rose and left the
room, while Sir Henry filled his glass again and
leaned back in his chair, pufiRng at his cigar. I
heard the creak of a door and the crisp sound of
boots upon gravel. The steps passed along the
path on the other side of the wall under which I
crouched. Looking over, I saw the naturalist
pause at the door of an out-house in the corner of
the orchard. A key turned in a lock, and as he
passed in there was a curious scuffling noise from
within. He was only a minute or so inside, and
then I heard the key turn once more and he passed
me and re-entered the house. I saw him rejoin his
guest, and I crept quietly back to where my com-
panions were waiting to tell them what I had
seen.
" You say, Watson, that the lady is not there? "
Holmes asked, when I had finished my report.
" No."
" Where can she be, then, since there is no light
in any other room except the kitchen? "
" I cann ot think_w here she is."
I have said that over the great Grimpen Mire
there hung a dense, white fog. It was drifting
slowly in our direction and banked itself up like a
wall on that side of us, low, but thick and well de-
fined. The moon shone on it, and it looked like a
great shimmering icefield, with the heads of the
220
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
distant tors as rocks borne upon its surface.
Holmes's face was turned towards it, and he mut-
tered impatiently as he watched its sluggish drift.
" It's moving towards us, Watson."
" Is that serious? "
" Very serious, indeed — the one thing upon earth
which could have disarranged my plans. He can't
be very long, now. It is already ten o'clock. Our
success and even his life may depend upon his com-
ing out before the fog is over the path."
The night was clear and fine ^ above us. The
stars shone cold and bright, while a half-moon
bathed the whole scene in a soft, uncertain light.
Before us lay the dark bulk of the house, its serrated
roof and bristling chimneys hard outlined against
the silver-spangled sky. Broad bars of golden light
from the lower windows stretched across the
orchard and the moor. One of them was suddenly
shut ofif. The servants had left the kitchen. There
only remained the lamp in the dining-room where
the two men, the murderous host and the uncon-
scious guest, still chatted over their cigars.
Every minute that white woolly plain which cov-
ered one half of the moor was drifting closer and
closer to the house. Already the first thi n wisps o f
it were curling across the golden square of the
lighted window. The farther wall of the orchard
was already invisible, and the trees were standing
out of a swirl of white vapour. As we watched it
tbe io^wreaths catne crawljng rcniad hnth cfxrxga
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
t)f the house and rolled slowly into one dense bank,
on which the upper floor and the roof floated like
a strange ship upon a shadowy sea. Holmes struck
his hand passionately upon the rock in front of us,
and stamped his feet in his impatience.
" If he isn't out in a quarter of an hour the path
will be covered. In half an hour we won't be able
to see our hands in front of us."
" Shall we move farther back upon higher
ground? "
" Y es. I tbink it would be as well. "
So as the fog-bank flowed Onwards we fell back
before it until we were half a mile from the house,
and still that dense white sea, with the moon silver-
ing its upper edge, swept slowly and inexorably on.
" We are going too far," said Holmes. " We
dare not take the chance of his being overtaken be-
fore he can reach us. At all costs we must hold
our ground where we are." He dropped on his
knees and clapped his ear to the ground. " Thank
God, I think that I hear him coming."
A sound of quick steps broke the sileAce of the
moor. Crouching among the stones we stared In-
tently at the silver-tipped bank in front of us. The
steps grew louder, and through the fog, as through
a curtain, there stepped the man whom we were
awaiting. He looked round him in surprise as he
emerged into the clear, star-lit night. Then he
came swiftly along the path, passed close to where
vre layt and ■weat on up ihe long slope beblad Oft
Yhe steps grew louder, and through the fog, as
through a curtain, there stepped the man
whom we were awaiting.
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
As he walked he glanced continually over either
shoulder, like a man who is ill at ease.
" Hist! " cried Holmes, and I heard the sharp
click of a cocking pistol. " Look out! It's com-
ing!"
There was a thin, crisp, continuous patter from
somewhere in the heart of that crawling bank. The
cloud was within fifty yards of where we lay, and
we glared at it, all three, uncertain what horror
was about to break from the heart of it. I was at
Holmes's elbow, and I glanced for an instant at his
face. It was pale and exultant, his eyes shining
brightly in the moonlight. But suddenly they
started forward in a rigid, fixed stare, and his lips
parted in amazement. At the same instant Le-
strade gave a yell of terror and threw himself face
downwards upon the ground. I sprang to my feet,
my inert hand grasping my pistol, my mind par-
alyzed by the dreadful shape which had sprung out
upon us from the shadows of the fog. 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 smoul-
dering glare, its muzzle and hackles and dewlap
were outlined in flickering flame. Never in the de-
lirious dream of a disordered brain could anything
more savage, more appalling, more hellish be con-
ceived than that dark form and savage face which
broke upon us out of the wall of fog.
With long bounds the huge black creature was
323
THE HOUND OF THE B A S K E R V I LLES
leaping down the track, following hard upon the
footsteps of our friend. So paralyzed were we by
the apparition that we allowed him to pass before
we had recovered our nerve. Then Holmes and I
both fired together, and the creature gave a hideous
howl, which showed that one at least had hit him.
He did not pause, however, but bounded onwards.
Far away on the path we saw Sir Henry looking
back, his face white in the moonlight, his hands
raised in horror, glaring helplessly at the frightful
thing which was hunting him down.
But that cry of pain from the hound had blown
all our fears to the winds. If he was vulnerable he
was mortal, and if we could wound him we could
kill him. Never have I seen a man run as Holmes
ran that night. I am reckoned fleet of fo ot, but he
outpaced me as much as I outpaced the little pro-
fessional. In front of us as we flew up the track
we heard scream after scream from Sir Henry and
the deep roar of the hound. I was in time to see
the beast spring upon its victim, hurl him to the
ground, and worry at his throat. But the next in-
stant Holmes had emptied five barrels of his re-
volver into the creature's flank. With a last howl
of agony and a vicious snap in the air, it rolled upon
its back, four feet pawing furiously, and then fell
limp upon its side. I stooped, panting, and pressed
my pistol to the dreadful, shimmering head, but it
was useless to press the trigger. The giant hound
was dead.
224
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILtES
Sir Henry lay insensible where he had fallen.
We tore away his collar, and Holmes breathed a
prayer of gratitude when we saw that there was no
sign of a wound and that the rescue had been in
time. Already our friend's eyelids shivered and he
made a feeble effort to move. Lestrade thrust his
brandy-flask between the baronet's teeth, and two
frightened eyes were looking up at us.
"My God!" he whispered. "What was it?
What, in Heaven's name, was it? "
" It's dead, whatever it is," said Holmes.
" We've laid the family ghost once and for ever."
In mere size and strength it was a terrible creat-
ure which was lying stretched before us. It was
not a pure bloodhound and it was not a pure
mastiff; but it appeared to be a combination of the
two — ^gaunt, savage, and as large as a small lioness.
Even now, in the stillness of death, tife huge jaws
seemed to be dripping with a bluish flame and the
small, deep-set, cruel eyes were ringed with fire. I
placed my hand upon the glowing muzzle, and as
I held them up my own fingers smouldered and
gleamed in the darkness.
" Phosphorus," I said.
"A cunning preparation of it," said Holmes,
sniffing at the dead animal. " There is no smell
which might have interfered with his power of
scent. We owe you a deep apology. Sir Henry,
-for having exposed you to this fright. I was pre- ■
pared for a hound, but not for such a creature as
22.5
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
this. And the fog gave us little time to receive
him."
" You have saved my life."
"Having first endangered it. Are you strong
enough to stand? "
" Give me another mouthful of that brandy and
I shall be ready for anything. So! Now, if you
will help me up. What do you propose to do? "
" To leave you here. You are not fit for further
adventures to-night. If you will wait, one or other
of us will go back with you to the Hall."
He tried to stagger to his feet; but he was still
ghastly pale and trembling in every limb. We
helped him to a rock, where he sat shivering with
his face buried in his hands.
" We must leave you now," said Holmes. " The
rest of our work must be done, and every moment
is of importance. We have our case, and now we
only want our man.
C -) " It's a thousand to one agains t our find ing him
at the house," he continued, as we retraced our
steps swiftly down the path. " Those shots must
have told him that the game was up."
" We were some distance off, and this fog may
have deadened them."
" He followed the hound to call him off — of that
you may be certain. No, no, he's gone by this
time! But we'll search the house and make sure."
The front door was open, so we rushed in and
hurried from room to room, to the amazement of a
226
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
doddering old manservant, who met us in the
passage. There was no light save in the dining-
room, but Holmes caught up the lamp and left no
corner of the house unexplored. No sign could
we see of the man whom we were chasing. On the
upper floor, however, one of the bedroom doors was
locked.
" There's someone in here," cried L<^trade. " I
can hear a movement. Open this door! "
A faint moaning and rustling came from within.
Holmes struck the door just over the lock with the
flat of his foot and it flew open. Pistol in hand, we
all three rushed into the room.
But there was no sign within it of that desperate
and defiant villain whom we expected to see. In-
stead we were faced by an object so strange and so
unexpected that we stood for a moment staring at
it in amazement.
The room had been fashioned into a small mu-
seum, and the walls were lined by a number of
glass-topped cases full of that collection of butter-
flies and moths the formation of which had been
the relaxation of this complex and dangerous man.
In the centre of this room there was an upright
_beam, which had been placed at some period as a
support for the old worm-eaten balk of timber
which spanned the roof. To this post a figure was
tied, so swathed and muffled in the sheets which
had been used to secure it that one could not for
the moment tell whether it was that of a man or a
227
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
woman. One towel passed round the throat and
was secured at the back of the pillar. Another cov-
ered the lower part of the face, and over it two dark
eyes — eyes full of grief and shame and a dreadful
questioning — stared back at us. In a minute we
had torn off the gag, unswathed the bonds, and
Mrs. Stapleton sank upon the floor in front of us.
As her beautiful head fell upon her chest I saw the
clear red weal of a whiplash across her neck.
" The brute! " cried Holmes. " Here, Lestrade,
your brandy-bottle! Put her in the chair! She
has fainted from ill-usage and exhaustion."
She opened her eyes again.
" Is he safe? " she asked. " Has he escaped? "
" He cannot escape us, madam."
" No, no, I did not mean my husband. Sir
Henry? Is he safe? "
" Yes."
" And the hound? "
" It is dead."
She gave a long sigh of satisfaction.
"Thank God! Thank God! Oh, this villain!
See how he has treated me ! " She shot her arms
out from her sleeves, and we saw with horror that
they were all mottled with bruises. " But this is
nothing — nothing! It is my mind and soul that he
has tortured and defiled. I could endure it all, ill-
usage, solitude, a life of deception, everything, as
long as I could still cling to the hope that I had
his love, but now I know that in this also I have
228
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
been his dupe and his tool." She broke into pas-
sionate sobbing as she spoke.
" You bear him no good will, madam," said
Holmes. " Tell us then where we shall find him.
If you have ever aided him in evil, help us now and
so atone. "
" There is but one place where he can have fled,"
she answered. " There is an old tin mine on an
island in the heart of the Mire. It was there that
he kept his hound and there also he had made
preparations so that he might have a refuge. That
is where he would fly."
The fog-bank lay like white wool against the win-
dow. Holmes held the lamp towards it.
" See," said he. " No~ one could find ]iis wa.v
into th e Grimpen Mire to-night."
She laughed and clapped her hands. Her eyes
and teeth gleamed with fierce merriment.
" He may find his way in, but never out," she
cried. " How can he see the guiding wands to-
night? We planted them together, he and I, to
mark the pathway through the mire. Oh, if I
could only have plucked them out to-day. Then
indeed you would ha^e had him at your mercy! "
It war, evident to us that all pursuit was in vain
until the fog had lifted. Meanwhile we left Le-
strade in possession of the house while Holmes and
I went back with the baronet to Baskerville Hall.
The story of the Stapletons could no longer be with-
held from him, but he took the blow bravely when
229
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
he learned the truth about the woman whom he had
loved. But the shock of the night's adventures
had shattered his nerves, and before morning he
lay delirious in a high fever, under,the care of Dr.
Mortimer. The two of them wer e destined to
travel together round the world before Sir Henry
had become once more the hak_h£arty man that
he had been before he became master of that ill-
omened estate.
And now I come rapidly to the conclusion of this
singular narrative, in which I have tried to make
the reader share those dark fears and vague sur-
mises which clouded our lives so long, and ended
in so tragic a manner. On the morning after the
death of the hound the fog had lifted and we were
guided by Mrs. Stapleton to the point where they
had found a pathway through the bog. It helped
us to realize the horror of this woman's life when
we saw the eagerness and joy with which she laid
us on her husband's track. We left her standing
upon the thin peninsula of firm, peaty soil which
fgpprpH ni^f into the widespreacT bog. From the
end of it a small wand planted here and there
showed where the path zig-zagged from tuft to tuft
of rushes among those green-scummed pits and foul
quagmires which barred the way to the stranger.
Rank reeds and lush, slimy water-plants sent an
odour of decay and a heavy miasmatic vapour into
our faces, while a false step plunged us more than
230
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
once thigh-deep, into the dark, quivering mire,
which shook for yards in soft undulations around
our feet. Its tenacious grip p lucke d at our heels.
as we walked, and when we sank into it it was as
if some malignant hand was tugging us down into
those ob scene depths , so grim and purposeful was
tlie clutch in which it held us. Once only we saw
a trace that someone had passed that perilous way
before us. From amid a tuft of cotton-grass which
bore 't up out of the slime some dark thing was
projecting. Holmes sank to his waist as he stepped
from the path to seize it, and had we not been there
to drag him out he could never have set his foot
upon firm land again. He held an old black boot
in the air. " Meyers, Toronto," was printed on the
leather inside.
" It is worth a mud bath," said he. " It is our
friend Sir Henry's missing boot."
" Thrown there by Stapleton in his flight."
" Exactly. He retained it in his hand after using
it to set the hound upon the track. He fled when
he knew the game was up, still clutching it. And
he hurled it away at this point of his flight We
know at least that he came so far in safety."
But more than that we were never destined to
know, though there was much which we might sur-
mise. There was no chance of finding footsteps in
the mire, for the rising mud oozed swiftly in upon
them, but as we at last reached firmer ground be-
yond the motaes we all looked eogerly ior theia.
33B
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLE8
But no slightest sign of them ever met our eyes.
If the earth told a true story, then Stapleton never
reached that island of refuge towards which he
struggled through the fog upon that last night.
Somewhere in the heart of the great Grimpen Mire,
down in the foul slime of the huge morass which
had sucked him in, this cold and cruel-hearted man
is for ever buried.
Many traces we found of him in the bog-girt isl-
and where he had hid his savage ally. A huge driv-
ing-wheel and a shaft half-filled with rubbish showed
the position of an abandoned mine. Beside it were
the crumbling remains of the cottages of the miners,
3riven away no doubt by the foul reek of the sur-
rounding swamp. In one of these a staple and
chain with a quantity of gnawed bones showed
where the animal had been confined. A skeleton
with a tangle of brown hair adhering to it lay among
the debris.
"A dog!" said Holmes. "By Jove, a curly-
haired spaniel. Poor Mortimer will never see his
pet again. Well, I do not know that this place con-
tains any secret which we have not already fath-
omed. He could hide his hound, but he could not
hush its voice, and hence came those cries which
even in daylight were not pleasant to hear. On aa
emergency he could keep the hound in the out-
house at Merripit, but it was always a risk, and it
was only on the supreme day, which he regarded
as the end of all bis elforts, that he dared do it.
932
XV
A Retrospection
IT was the end of November, and Holmes and
I sat, upon a raw and foggy night, on either
side of a blazing fire in our sitting-room in
-Baker Street. Since the tragic upshot o f our visit
to Devonshire he had been engaged in two affairs
of the utmost importance, in the first of which he
had exposed the atrocious conduct of Colonel Up-
wood in connection with the famous card scandal
of the Nonpareil Club, while in the second he had
defended the unfortunate Mme. Montpensier from
the charge of murder which hung over her in con-
nection with the death of her step-daughter. Mile.
Carere, the young lady who, as it will be remem-
bered, was found six months later alive and married
in New York. My friend was in excellent spirits
over the success which had attended a succession of
difficult and important cases, so that I was able to
induce him to discuss the details of the Baskerville
mystery. 1 had waited patiently for the opportu-
nity, for I was aware that he would never permit
cases to overlapi_a nd that his clear and logical mind
would not be drawn from its present work to dwell
upon memories of the past. Sir Henry and Dr.
Mortimer were, however, in London, on their waj[
234
A RETROSPECTION
to that long voyage which had been recommended
for the restoration of his shattered nerves. They
had called upon us that very afternoon, so that it
was natural that the subject should come up for
discussion^
" The whole course of events," said Holmes,
" from the point of view of the man who called him-
self Stapleton was simple and direct, although to
us, who had no means in the beginning of knowing
the motives of his actions and could only learn part
of the facts, it all appeared exceedingly complex.
J have had the advantage of two conversations with
Mrs. Stapleton, and the case has now been so en-
tirely cleared up that I am not aware that there is
anything which has remained a secret to us. You
will find a few notes upon the matter under the
heading B in my indexed list of cases."
" Perhaps you would kindly give me a sketch of
the course of events from memor y.^
" Certainly, though 1 cannot guarantee that I
carry all the facts in my mind. Intense mental con-
centration has a rnrinns way of blotting out what
" has passed . The barrister who has his case at his
fingers' end, and is able to argue with an expert
upon his own subject, finds that a week or two of
the courts will drive it all out of his head once more.
So each of my cases displaces the last, and Mile.
Carere has blurred my recolle ction of Baskerville
Hall. To-morrow some other little problem may
be submitted to my notice which will in turn dis-
23S
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
possess the fair French lady and the infamous Up-
wood. So far as the case of the Hound goes, how-
ever, I will give you the course of events as nearly
as I can, and you will suggest anything which I may
have forgotten.
" My inquiries show beyond all question that the
family portrait did not lie, and that this fellow was
indeed a Baskerville. He was a son of that Rodgef
Baskerville, the younger brother of Sir Charles, who
fled with a sinister reputation to South America,
where he was said to have died unmarried. He did,
as a matter of fact, marry, and had one child, this
fellow, whose real name is the same as his father.
He married Beryl Garqia, one of the beauties of
Costa Rica, and, having purloined a considerable
sum of public money, he changed his name to Van-
deleur and fled to England, where he established a
school in the east of Yorkshire. His reason for at'
tempting this special line of business was that he
had struck up an acquaintance with a consumptive
tutor upon the voyage home, and that he had used
this man's ability to make the undertaking a suc-
cess. Fraser, the tutor, died, however, and the
school which had begun well sank from disrepute
into infamy. The Vandeleurs found it convenient
to change their name to Stapleton, and he brought
the remains of his fortune, his schemes for the
future, and his taste for entomology to the south of
England. I learn at the British Museum that he
was a recognised authority upon the subject, and
236
A RETROSPECTION
that the name of Vandeleur has been permanently
attached to a certain moth which he had, in his
Yorkshire days, been the first to describ e.
" We now come to that portion of his Hfe which
has proved to be of such intense interest to us. The
fellow had evidently made inquiry, and found that
only two lives intervened between him and a valu-
able estate. When he went to Devonshire his plans
were, I believe, exceedingly hazy, but that he meant
mischief from the first is evident from the way in
which he took his wife with him in the character of
his sister. The idea of using her as a decoy was
clearly already in his mind, though he may not have
been certain how the details of his plot were to be
arranged. He meant in the end to have the es-
tate, and he was ready to use any tool or run
any risk for that end. His first act was to es-
tablish himself as near to his ancestral home as
he could, and his second was to cultivate a friend-
ship with Sir Charles Baskerville and with the
neighbours.
" The baronet himself told him about the family
hound, and so prepared the way for his own death.
Stapleton, as I will continue to call him, knew that
the old man's heart was weak and that a shock
would kill him. So much he had learned from Dr.
Mortimer. He had heard also th^t Sir Charles was
superstitious and had taken this grim legend very
seriously. His ingenious mind instantly suggested
away by which the baronet could be done to death,
THE HbUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
and yet it would be hardly possible to bring home
the guilt to the real murderer.
" Having conceived the idea he proceeded to
carry it out with considerable finesse. An ordinary
schemer would have been content to work with a
savage hound. The use of artificial means to make
the creature diabolical was a flash of genius upon
his part. The dog he bought in London from Ross
and Mangles, the dealers in Fulham Road. It was
the strongest and most savage in their possession.
He brought it down by the North Devon line and
walked a gre?it distance over the moor so as to get
it home without exciting any remarks. He had al-
ready on his insect hunts learned to penetrate the
Grimpen Mire, and so had found a safe hiding-place
for the creature. Here he kennelled it and waited
his chance.
" B ut it was some time coming . The old gentle-
man "could not be decbyed outside of his grounds
at night. Several times Stapleton lurked about
with his hound, but without avail. It was during
these fruitless quests that he, or rather his ally, was
seen by peasants, and that the legend of the demon
dog received a new confirmation. He had hoped
that his wife might lure Sir Charles to his ruin, but
here she proved unexpectedly independent. She
would not endeavour to entangle the old gentleman
in a sentimental attachment which might delivei
him over to his enemy. Threats and even. I am
sorry ixs say, blows refused to move her. Sbe
256
A RETROSPECTION
would have nothing to do with it, and for a time
Stapleton was at a deadlock.
" He found a way out of his difficulties through
the chance that Sir Charles, who had conceived a
friendship for him, made him the minister of his
charity in the case of this unfortunate woman, Mrs.
Laura Lyons. By representing himself as a single
man he acquired complete influence over her, and
he gave her to understand that in the event of her
obtaining a divorce from her husband he would
marry her. His plans were suddenly brought to a
head by his knowledge that Sir Charles was about
to leave the Hall on the advice of Dr. Mortimer,
with whose opinion he himself pretended to coin-
cide. He must act at once, or his victim might get
beyond his power. He therefore put pressure upon
Mrs. Lyons to write this letter, imploring the old
man to give her an interview on the evening before
his departure for London. He then, by a specious
argument, prevented her from going, and so had
the chance for which he had waited.
" Driving back in the evening from Coombe
Tracey he was in time to get his hound, to treat it
with his infernal paint, and to bring the beast round
to the gate at which he had reason to expect that
he would find the old gentleman waiting. The
dog, incited by its master, sprang over the wicket-
gate and pursued the unfortunate baronet, who fled
screaming down the Yew Alley. In that gloomy
tunnel it must indeed have been a dreadful sight to
239
THE HOUND OP THE SASKERVILLES
see that huge black creature, with its flaming jaws
and blazing eyes, bounding after its victim. He
fell dead at the end of the alley from heart disease
and terror. The hound had kept upon the grassy
border while the baronet had run down the path,
so that no track but the man's was visible. On
seeing him lying still the creature had probably ap-
proached to snifif at him, but finding him dead had
turned away again. It was then that it left the
print which was actually observed by Dr. Mortimer.
The hound was called oflf and hurried away to its
lair in the Grimpen Mire, and a mystery was left
which puzzled the authorities, alarmed the country-
side, and finally brought the case within the scope
of our observation.
" So much for the death of Sir Charles Basker-
ville. You perceive the devilish cunning of it, for
really it would be almost impossible to make a case
against the real murderer. His only accomplice
was one who could never give him away, and the
grotesque, inconceivable nature of the device only
served to make it more effective. Both of the
women concerned in the case, Mrs. Stapleton and
Mrs; Laura Lyons, were left with a strong suspicion
against Stapleton. Mrs. Stapleton knew that he
had designs upon the old man, and also of the ex-
istence of the hound. Mrs. Lyons knew neither of
these things, but had been impressed by the death
occurring at the time of an uncancelled appointment
which was only known to him. However, both of
240
A RETROSPECTION
^hem were under his influence, and he had nothing
to fear from them. The first half of his task was
successfully accomplished, but the more diiHcuIt
still remained.
" It is possible that Stapleton did not know of
the existence of an heir in Canada. In any case he
would very soon learn it from his friend Dr. Morti-
mer, and he was told by the latter all details about
the arrival of Henry Baskerville. Stapleton's first
idea was that this young stranger from Canada
might possibly be done to death in London with-
out coming down to Devonshire at all. He dis-
trusted his wife ever since she had refused to help
him in laying a trap for fhe old man, and he dared
not leave her long out of his sight for fear he should
lose his influence over her. It was for this reason
that he took her to London with .him. They
lodged, I find, at the Mexborough Private Hotel,
in Craven Street, which was actually one of those
called upon by my agent in search of evidence.
Here he kept his wife imprisoned in her room while
he, disguised in a beard, followed Dr. Mortimer to
Baker Street and afterwards to the station and to
the Northumberland Hotel. His wife had some
inkling of his plans; but she had such a fear of her
husband — a fear founded upon brutal ill-treatment
^that she dare not write to warn t he man whom
she knew to be in rlangr^r ^Tf the letter should fall
into Stapleton's hands her own life would not be
safe. Eventually, as we know, she adopted the ex-
24Z
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEI
pedient of cutting out the words which would form
the message, and addressing the letter in a disguised
hand. It reached the baronet, and gave him the
first warning of his danger.
" It was very essential for Stapleton to get some
article of Sir Henry's attire so that, in case he was
driven to use the dog, he might always have the
means of setting him upon his track. With char-
acteristic promptness and audacity he set about this
at oiice, and we cannot doubt that the boots or
chambermaid of the hotel was well bribed to help
him in his design. By chance, however, the first
boot which was procured for him was a new one
and, therefore, useless for his purpose. He then
had it returned and obtained another — a most in-
structive incident, since it proved conclusively to my
mind that we were dealing with a real hound, as no
other supposition could explain this anxiety to ob-
tain an old boot and this indifiference to a new one.
The more outre and grotesque an incident is the
more carefully it deserves to be examined, and the
very point which appears to complicate a case is,
when duly considered and scientifically handled, the
one which is most likely to elucidate it.
" Then we had the visit from our friends next
morning, shadowed always by Stapleton in the cab.
From his knowledge of our rooms and of my ap-
pearance, as well as from his general conduct, I am
inclined to think that Stapleton's career of crime
has been by no means limited to this single Basker*
242
A RETR08)PECTK0J»
ville affair. Jt is suggestive that during the last
three years there have been four considerable bur-
glaries in the West Country, for none of which was
any criminal ever arrested. The last of these, at
Folkestone Court, in May, was remarkable for the
cblJ-blooded pistoling of the page, who surprised
the masked and solitary burglar. I cannot doubt
that Stapleton recruited his waning resources in
this fashion, and that for years he has been a des-
perate and dangerous man.
"We had an example of his readiness of resource
that morning when he got away from us so success-
fully, and also of his audacity in sending back my
own name to me through the cabman. From that
moment he understood that I had taken over the
case in London, and that therefore there was no
chance for him there. He returned to Dartmoor
and awaited the arrival of the baronet."
" One moment! " said I. " You have, no doubt,
described the sequence of events correctly, but there
is one point which you have left unexplained. What
became of the hound when its master was in Lon-
don? "
" I have given some attention to this matter and
it is undoubtedly of importance. There can be no
question that Stapleton had a confidant, though it
is unlikely that he ever placed himself in his power
by sharing all his plans with him. There was an
old manservant at Merripit House, whose name was
Anthony. His connection with the Stapletons can
243
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEI
be traced for several years, as far back as the school-
mastering days, so that he must have been aware
that his master and mistress were really husband
and wife. This man has disappeared and has es-
caped from the country. It is suggestive that
Anthony is not a common name in England, while
Antonio is so in all Spanish or Spanish-American
countries. The man, like Mrs. Stapleton herself,
spoke good English, but with a curious lisping ac-
cent. I have myself seen this old man cross the
Grimpen Mire by the path which Stapleton had
marked out. It is very probable, therefore, that in
the absence of his master it was he who cared for
the hound, though he may never have known the
purpose for which the beast was used.
" The Stapletons then went down to Devonshire,
whither they were soon followed by Sir Henry and
you. One word now as to how I stood myself at
that time. It may possibly recur to your memory
that when I examined the paper upon which the
printed words were fastened I made a close inspec-
tion for the water-marki In doing so I held it
within a few inches of my eyes, and was conscious
of a faiit^t smell of the scent known as white jessa-
mine. There are seventy-five perfumes, which it is
very necessary that a criminal expert should be able
to distinguish from each other, and cases have more
than once within my own experience depended up-
on their prompt recognition. The scent suggested
the presence of a lady, and already my thoughts be-
244
A R fi TR SPE CT lOM
gan to turn towards the Stapletons. Thus I had
made certain of the hound, and had guessed at the
criminal before ever we went to the West Country.
" It was my game to watch Stapleton. It was
evident, however, that I could not do this if I were
with you, since he would be keenly on his guard. I
deceived everybody, therefore, yourself included,
and I came down secretly when I was supposed to
be in London. My hardships were not so great as
you imagined, though such trifling details must
never interfere with the investigation of a case. I
stayed for the most part at Coombe Tracey, and
only used the hut upon the moor when it was neces-
sary to be near the scene of action. Cartwright
had come down with me, and in his disguise as a
country boy he was of great assistance to me. I
was dependent upon him for food and clean linen.
When I was watching Stapleton, Cartwright was
frequently watching you, so that I was able to keep
my hand upon all the strings.
" I have already told you that your reports
reached me rapidly, being forwarded instantly from
Baker Street to Coombe Tracey. They were of
great service to me, and especially that one inci-
dentally truthful piece of biography of Stapleton's.
I was able to establish the identity of the man and
the woman, and knew at last exactly how I stood.
The case had been considerably complicated
through the incident of the escaped convict and the
relations between him and the Barrymores. This
245
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
also you cleared up in a very effective way, though
I had already come to the same conclusions from my
own observations.
" By the time that you discovered me upon the
moor I had a complete knowledge of the' whole
business, but I had not a case which could go to a
jury. Even Stapleton's attempt upon Sir Henry
that night which ended in the death of the unfortu-
nate convict did not help us much in proving mur-
der against our man. There seemed to be no al-
ternative but to catch him red-handed, and to do
so we had to use Sir Henry, alone and apparently
unprotected, as a bait. We did so, and at the cost
of a severe shock to out client we succeeded in com-
pleting our case and driving Stapleton to his de-
struction. That Sir Henry should have been ex-
posed to this is, I must confess, a reproach to my
management of the case, but we had no means of
foreseeing the terrible and paralyzing spectacle
which the beast presented, nor could we predict the
fog which enabled him to burst upon us at such
short notice. We succeeded in our object at a cost
which both the specialist and Dr. Mortimer assure
me will be a temporary one. A long journey may
enable our friend to recover not only from his shat-
tered nerves, but also from his wounded feelings.
His love for the lady was deep and sincere, and to
him the saddest part of all this black business was
that he should have been deceived by her.
" It only remains to indicate the part which she
246
A RETROSPECTION
had played throughout. There can be no doubt
that Stapleton exercised an influence over her
which may have been love or may have been fear,
or very possibly both, since they are by no means
incompatible emotions. It was, at least, absolutely
effective. At his command she consented to pass
as his sister, though he found the limits of his power
over her when he endeavoured to make her the di-
rect accessory to murder. She was ready to warn
Sir Henry so far as she could without implicating
her husband, and again and again she tried to do so.
Stapleton himself seems to have been capable of
jealousy, and when he saw the baronet paying court
to the lady, even though it was part of his own
plan, still he could not help interrupting with a pas-
sionate outburst which revealed the fiery soul which
his self-contained manne r so cleverly concealed.
By encouraging the intimacy he made it certain that
Sir Henty would frequently come to Merripit
House and that he would sooner or later get the
opportunity which he desired. On the day of the
crisis, however, his wife turned suddenly against
him. She had learned something of the death of
the convict, and she knew that the hound was be-
ing kept in the out-house on the evening that Sir
Henry was coming to dinner. She taxed her hus-
band with his intended crinie, and a furious scene
foUbwed, in which he showed her for the first time
that she had a rival in his love. Her fidelity turned
j0 aa mstaat to bitter hatred and he saw that sSm
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLEfe
would betray him. He tied her up, therefore, that
she might have no chance of warning Sir Henry,
and he hoped, no doubt, that when the whole coun-
tryside put down the baronet's death to the curse
of his family, as they certainly would do, he could
win his wife back to accept an accomplished fact
and to keep silent upon what she knew. In this I
fancy that in any case he made a miscalculation, and
that, if we had not been there, his doom would none
the less have been sealed. A woman of Spanish
blood does not condon e such an inj ury so lightly.
And now, my dear Watson, without referring to
my notes, I cannot give you a more detailed ac-
count of this curious case. I do not know that any-
t hing essential has been left unexplained."
^" He could not hope to trignten bir "Henry to
death as he had done the old uncle with his bogie
hound."
" The beast was savage and half-starved. If its
appearance did not frighten its victim to death, at
least it would paralyze the resistance which might
be oflfered."
" No doubt. There only remains one difficulty.
If Stapleton came into the succession, how could he
explain the fact that he, the heir, had been living
unannounced under another name so close to the
property? How could he claim it without causing
suspicion and inquiry? "
" It is a formidable difficulty, and I fear that you
ask too much when you expect me to solve it. The
248
A RETROSPECTION
past and the present are within the field of my in-
quiry, but what a man may do in the future is a
hard question to answer. Mrs. Stapleton has
heard her husband discuss the problem on several
occasions. There were three possible courses. He
might claim the property from South America, es-
tablish his identity before the British authorities
there, and so obtain the fortune without ever com-
ing to England at all; or he might adopt an elabo-
rate disguise during the short time that he need be
in London; or, again, he might furnish an accom-
plice with the proofs and papers, putting him in as
heir, and retaining a claim upon some proportion of
his income. We cannot doubt from what we know
of him that he would have found some way out of
the difficulty And now, my dear Watson, we have
had some weeks of severe work, and for one even-
ing, I think, we may turn our thoughts into more
pleasant channels. I have a box for ' Les Hugue-
nots.' Have you heard the De Reszkes? ]Vfight
I trouble you then to be ready in - half an hour, and
we can stop at Marcini's for a little dinner on the
way?"
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