ProjectGutenberg'sTheHoundoftheBaskervilles,byA.ConanDoyle

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Title:TheHoundoftheBaskervilles

Author:A.ConanDoyle

ReleaseDate:December8,2008[EBook#2852]
LastUpdated:December17,2012

Language:English

***STARTOFTHISPROJECTGUTENBERGEBOOKTHEHOUNDOFTHEBASKERVILLES***

ProducedbyShreevatsaR,andDavidWidger

THEHOUNDOFTHEBASKERVILLES

ByA.ConanDoyle

Contents

Chapter1.

Mr.SherlockHolmes

Chapter2.

TheCurseoftheBaskervilles

Chapter3.

TheProblem

Chapter4.

SirHenryBaskerville

Chapter5.

ThreeBrokenThreads

Chapter6.

BaskervilleHall

Chapter7.

TheStapletonsofMerripitHouse

Chapter8.

FirstReportofDr.Watson

Chapter9.

TheLightupontheMoor[SecondReportofDr.Watson]

Chapter10.

ExtractfromtheDiaryofDr.Watson

Chapter11.

TheManontheTor

Chapter12.

DeathontheMoor

Chapter13.

FixingtheNets

Chapter14.

TheHoundoftheBaskervilles

Chapter15.

ARetrospection

Chapter1.Mr.SherlockHolmes

Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent

occasionswhenhewasupallnight,wasseatedatthebreakfasttable.Istooduponthehearth-rugand
pickedupthestickwhichourvisitorhadleftbehindhimthenightbefore.Itwasafine,thickpieceof
wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a "Penang lawyer." Just under the head was a
broadsilverbandnearlyaninchacross."ToJamesMortimer,M.R.C.S.,fromhisfriendsoftheC.C.H.,"
was engraved upon it, with the date "1884." It was just such a stick as the old-fashioned family
practitionerusedtocarry—dignified,solid,andreassuring.

"Well,Watson,whatdoyoumakeofit?"

Holmeswassittingwithhisbacktome,andIhadgivenhimnosignofmyoccupation.

"HowdidyouknowwhatIwasdoing?Ibelieveyouhaveeyesinthebackofyourhead."

"I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me," said he. "But, tell me,

Watson,whatdoyoumakeofourvisitor'sstick?Sincewehavebeensounfortunateastomisshimand
have no notion of his errand, this accidental souvenir becomes of importance. Let me hear you
reconstructthemanbyanexaminationofit."

"Ithink,"saidI,followingasfarasIcouldthemethodsofmycompanion,"thatDr.Mortimerisa

successful,elderlymedicalman,well-esteemedsincethosewhoknowhimgivehimthismarkoftheir
appreciation."

"Good!"saidHolmes."Excellent!"

"Ithinkalsothattheprobabilityisinfavourofhisbeingacountrypractitionerwhodoesagreatdeal

ofhisvisitingonfoot."

"Whyso?"

"Because this stick, though originally a very handsome one has been so knocked about that I can

hardlyimagineatownpractitionercarryingit.Thethick-ironferruleisworndown,soitisevidentthat
hehasdoneagreatamountofwalkingwithit."

"Perfectlysound!"saidHolmes.

"Andthenagain,thereisthe'friendsoftheC.C.H.'IshouldguessthattobetheSomethingHunt,the

localhunttowhosemembershehaspossiblygivensomesurgicalassistance,andwhichhasmadehima
smallpresentationinreturn."

"Really,Watson,youexcelyourself,"saidHolmes,pushingbackhischairandlightingacigarette."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,butyouareaconductoroflight.Somepeoplewithoutpossessinggeniushavearemarkable
powerofstimulatingit.Iconfess,mydearfellow,thatIamverymuchinyourdebt."

Hehadneversaidasmuchbefore,andImustadmitthathiswordsgavemekeenpleasure,forIhad

oftenbeenpiquedbyhisindifferencetomyadmirationandtotheattemptswhichIhadmadetogive
publicitytohismethods.Iwasproud,too,tothinkthatIhadsofarmasteredhissystemastoapplyitin
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
carryingthecanetothewindow,helookedoveritagainwithaconvexlens.

"Interesting,thoughelementary,"saidheashereturnedtohisfavouritecornerofthesettee."There

arecertainlyoneortwoindicationsuponthestick.Itgivesusthebasisforseveraldeductions."

"Has anything escaped me?" I asked with some self-importance. "I trust that there is nothing of

consequencewhichIhaveoverlooked?"

"Iamafraid,mydearWatson,thatmostofyourconclusionswereerroneous.WhenIsaidthatyou

stimulatedmeImeant,tobefrank,thatinnotingyourfallaciesIwasoccasionallyguidedtowardsthe
truth.Notthatyouareentirelywronginthisinstance.Themaniscertainlyacountrypractitioner.And
hewalksagooddeal."

"ThenIwasright."

"Tothatextent."

"Butthatwasall."

"No,no,mydearWatson,notall—bynomeansall.Iwouldsuggest,forexample,thatapresentation

toadoctorismorelikelytocomefromahospitalthanfromahunt,andthatwhentheinitials'C.C.'are
placedbeforethathospitalthewords'CharingCross'verynaturallysuggestthemselves."

"Youmayberight."

"Theprobabilityliesinthatdirection.Andifwetakethisasaworkinghypothesiswehaveafresh

basisfromwhichtostartourconstructionofthisunknownvisitor."

"Well,then,supposingthat'C.C.H.'doesstandfor'CharingCrossHospital,'whatfurtherinferences

maywedraw?"

"Dononesuggestthemselves?Youknowmymethods.Applythem!"

"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 occasion

would it be most probable that such a presentation would be made? When would his friends unite to
givehimapledgeoftheirgoodwill?ObviouslyatthemomentwhenDr.Mortimerwithdrewfromthe
serviceofthehospitalinordertostartapracticeforhimself.Weknowtherehasbeenapresentation.
Webelievetherehasbeenachangefromatownhospitaltoacountrypractice.Isit,then,stretchingour
inferencetoofartosaythatthepresentationwasontheoccasionofthechange?"

"Itcertainlyseemsprobable."

"Now, you will observe that he could not have been on the staff of the hospital, since only a man

well-establishedinaLondonpracticecouldholdsuchaposition,andsuchaonewouldnotdriftintothe
country.Whatwashe,then?Ifhewasinthehospitalandyetnotonthestaffhecouldonlyhavebeena
house-surgeonorahouse-physician—littlemorethanaseniorstudent.Andheleftfiveyearsago—the
date is on the stick. So your grave, middle-aged family practitioner vanishes into thin air, my dear
Watson,andthereemergesayoungfellowunderthirty,amiable,unambitious,absent-minded,andthe
possessorofafavouritedog,whichIshoulddescriberoughlyasbeinglargerthanaterrierandsmaller
thanamastiff."

IlaughedincredulouslyasSherlockHolmesleanedbackinhissetteeandblewlittlewaveringrings

ofsmokeuptotheceiling.

"Astothelatterpart,Ihavenomeansofcheckingyou,"saidI,"butatleastitisnotdifficulttofind

outafewparticularsabouttheman'sageandprofessionalcareer."FrommysmallmedicalshelfItook
downtheMedicalDirectoryandturnedupthename.TherewereseveralMortimers,butonlyonewho
couldbeourvisitor.Ireadhisrecordaloud.

"Mortimer,James,M.R.C.S.,1882,Grimpen,Dartmoor,Devon.
House-surgeon,from1882to1884,atCharingCrossHospital.

WinneroftheJacksonprizeforComparativePathology,
withessayentitled'IsDiseaseaReversion?'Corresponding
memberoftheSwedishPathologicalSociety.Authorof
'SomeFreaksofAtavism'(Lancet1882).'DoWeProgress?'
(JournalofPsychology,March,1883).MedicalOfficer
fortheparishesofGrimpen,Thorsley,andHighBarrow."

"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, unambitious, 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
abandonsaLondoncareerforthecountry,andonlyanabsent-mindedonewholeaveshisstickandnot
hisvisiting-cardafterwaitinganhourinyourroom."

"Andthedog?"

"Hasbeeninthehabitofcarryingthisstickbehindhismaster.Beingaheavystickthedoghasheldit

tightlybythemiddle,andthemarksofhisteethareveryplainlyvisible.Thedog'sjaw,asshowninthe
spacebetweenthesemarks,istoobroadinmyopinionforaterrierandnotbroadenoughforamastiff.
Itmayhavebeen—yes,byJove,itisacurly-hairedspaniel."

Hehadrisenandpacedtheroomashespoke.Nowhehaltedintherecessofthewindow.Therewas

sucharingofconvictioninhisvoicethatIglancedupinsurprise.

"Mydearfellow,howcanyoupossiblybesosureofthat?"

"FortheverysimplereasonthatIseethedoghimselfonourverydoor-step,andthereistheringof

itsowner.Don'tmove,Ibegyou,Watson.Heisaprofessionalbrotherofyours,andyourpresencemay
be of assistance to me. Now is the dramatic moment of fate, Watson, when you hear a step upon the
stairwhichiswalkingintoyourlife,andyouknownotwhetherforgoodorill.WhatdoesDr.James
Mortimer,themanofscience,askofSherlockHolmes,thespecialistincrime?Comein!"

The appearance of our visitor was a surprise to me, since I had expected a typical country

practitioner.Hewasaverytall,thinman,withalongnoselikeabeak,whichjuttedoutbetweentwo
keen,grayeyes,setcloselytogetherandsparklingbrightlyfrombehindapairofgold-rimmedglasses.
Hewascladinaprofessionalbutratherslovenlyfashion,forhisfrock-coatwasdingyandhistrousers
frayed. Though young, his long back was already bowed, and he walked with a forward thrust of his
headandageneralairofpeeringbenevolence.AsheenteredhiseyesfelluponthestickinHolmes's
hand, and he ran towards it with an exclamation of joy. "I am so very glad," said he. "I was not sure
whetherIhadleftithereorintheShippingOffice.Iwouldnotlosethatstickfortheworld."

"Apresentation,Isee,"saidHolmes.

"Yes,sir."

"FromCharingCrossHospital?"

"Fromoneortwofriendsthereontheoccasionofmymarriage."

"Dear,dear,that'sbad!"saidHolmes,shakinghishead.

Dr.Mortimerblinkedthroughhisglassesinmildastonishment."Whywasitbad?"

"Onlythatyouhavedisarrangedourlittledeductions.Yourmarriage,yousay?"

"Yes, sir. I married, and so left the hospital, and with it all hopes of a consulting practice. It was

necessarytomakeahomeofmyown."

"Come,come,wearenotsofarwrong,afterall,"saidHolmes."Andnow,Dr.JamesMortimer—"

"Mister,sir,Mister—ahumbleM.R.C.S."

"Andamanofprecisemind,evidently."

"Adabblerinscience,Mr.Holmes,apickerupofshellsontheshoresofthegreatunknownocean.I

presumethatitisMr.SherlockHolmeswhomIamaddressingandnot—"

"No,thisismyfriendDr.Watson."

"Gladtomeetyou,sir.Ihaveheardyournamementionedinconnectionwiththatofyourfriend.You

interest me very much, Mr. Holmes. I had hardly expected so dolichocephalic a skull or such well-
markedsupra-orbitaldevelopment.Wouldyouhaveanyobjectiontomyrunningmyfingeralongyour
parietal fissure? A cast of your skull, sir, until the original is available, would be an ornament to any
anthropologicalmuseum.Itisnotmyintentiontobefulsome,butIconfessthatIcovetyourskull."

Sherlock Holmes waved our strange visitor into a chair. "You are an enthusiast in your line of

thought,Iperceive,sir,asIaminmine,"saidhe."Iobservefromyourforefingerthatyoumakeyour
owncigarettes.Havenohesitationinlightingone."

Themandrewoutpaperandtobaccoandtwirledtheoneupintheotherwithsurprisingdexterity.He

hadlong,quiveringfingersasagileandrestlessastheantennaeofaninsect.

Holmeswassilent,buthislittledartingglancesshowedmetheinterestwhichhetookinourcurious

companion. "I presume, sir," said he at last, "that it was not merely for the purpose of examining my
skullthatyouhavedonemethehonourtocallherelastnightandagaintoday?"

"No,sir,no;thoughIamhappytohavehadtheopportunityofdoingthataswell.Icametoyou,Mr.

Holmes, because I recognized that I am myself an unpractical man and because I am suddenly
confrontedwithamostseriousandextraordinaryproblem.Recognizing,asIdo,thatyouarethesecond
highestexpertinEurope—"

"Indeed,sir!MayIinquirewhohasthehonourtobethefirst?"askedHolmeswithsomeasperity.

"To the man of precisely scientific mind the work of Monsieur Bertillon must always appeal

strongly."

"Thenhadyounotbetterconsulthim?"

"Isaid,sir,tothepreciselyscientificmind.Butasapracticalmanofaffairsitisacknowledgedthat

youstandalone.Itrust,sir,thatIhavenotinadvertently—"

"Just a little," said Holmes. "I think, Dr. Mortimer, 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
assistance."

Chapter2.TheCurseoftheBaskervilles

"Ihaveinmypocketamanuscript,"saidDr.JamesMortimer.

"Iobserveditasyouenteredtheroom,"saidHolmes.

"Itisanoldmanuscript."

"Earlyeighteenthcentury,unlessitisaforgery."

"Howcanyousaythat,sir?"

"Youhavepresentedaninchortwoofittomyexaminationallthetimethatyouhavebeentalking.It

would be a poor expert who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so. You may
possiblyhavereadmylittlemonographuponthesubject.Iputthatat1730."

"The exact date is 1742." Dr. Mortimer drew it from his breast-pocket. "This family paper was

committedtomycarebySirCharlesBaskerville,whosesuddenandtragicdeathsomethreemonthsago
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.Yethetookthisdocumentveryseriously,andhismindwaspreparedforjustsuchanendasdid
eventuallyovertakehim."

Holmesstretchedouthishandforthemanuscriptandflattenedituponhisknee."Youwillobserve,

Watson,thealternativeuseofthelongsandtheshort.Itisoneofseveralindicationswhichenabledme
tofixthedate."

I looked over his shoulder at the yellow paper and the faded script. At the head was written:

"BaskervilleHall,"andbelowinlarge,scrawlingfigures:"1742."

"Itappearstobeastatementofsomesort."

"Yes,itisastatementofacertainlegendwhichrunsintheBaskervillefamily."

"But I understand that it is something more modern and practical upon which you wish to consult

me?"

"Most modern. A most practical, pressing matter, which must be decided within twenty-four hours.

Butthemanuscriptisshortandisintimatelyconnectedwiththeaffair.WithyourpermissionIwillread
ittoyou."

Holmesleaned back inhis chair, placedhis finger-tips together, andclosed his eyes,with an air of

resignation. Dr. Mortimer turned the manuscript to the light and read in a high, cracking voice the
followingcurious,old-worldnarrative:

"OftheoriginoftheHoundoftheBaskervillesthere
havebeenmanystatements,yetasIcomeinadirect
linefromHugoBaskerville,andasIhadthestoryfrom
myfather,whoalsohaditfromhis,Ihavesetitdown
withallbeliefthatitoccurredevenasishereset
forth.AndIwouldhaveyoubelieve,mysons,thatthe
sameJusticewhichpunishessinmayalsomostgraciously
forgiveit,andthatnobanissoheavybutthatbyprayer
andrepentanceitmayberemoved.Learnthenfromthis
storynottofearthefruitsofthepast,butratherto
becircumspectinthefuture,thatthosefoulpassions
wherebyourfamilyhassufferedsogrievouslymaynot
againbeloosedtoourundoing.

"KnowthenthatinthetimeoftheGreatRebellion(the
historyofwhichbythelearnedLordClarendonImost
earnestlycommendtoyourattention)thisManorof
BaskervillewasheldbyHugoofthatname,norcanitbe
gainsaidthathewasamostwild,profane,andgodless

man.This,intruth,hisneighboursmighthavepardoned,
seeingthatsaintshaveneverflourishedinthoseparts,
buttherewasinhimacertainwantonandcruelhumour
whichmadehisnameaby-wordthroughtheWest.It
chancedthatthisHugocametolove(if,indeed,sodark
apassionmaybeknownundersobrightaname)thedaughter
ofayeomanwhoheldlandsneartheBaskervilleestate.
Buttheyoungmaiden,beingdiscreetandofgoodrepute,
wouldeveravoidhim,forshefearedhisevilname.So
itcametopassthatoneMichaelmasthisHugo,withfive
orsixofhisidleandwickedcompanions,stoledownupon
thefarmandcarriedoffthemaiden,herfatherand
brothersbeingfromhome,ashewellknew.Whentheyhad
broughthertotheHallthemaidenwasplacedinanupper
chamber,whileHugoandhisfriendssatdowntoalong
carouse,aswastheirnightlycustom.Now,thepoorlass
upstairswasliketohaveherwitsturnedatthesinging
andshoutingandterribleoathswhichcameuptoherfrom
below,fortheysaythatthewordsusedbyHugoBaskerville,
whenhewasinwine,weresuchasmightblastthemanwho
saidthem.Atlastinthestressofherfearshedidthat
whichmighthavedauntedthebravestormostactiveman,
forbytheaidofthegrowthofivywhichcovered(and
stillcovers)thesouthwallshecamedownfromunderthe
eaves,andsohomewardacrossthemoor,therebeingthree
leaguesbetwixttheHallandherfather'sfarm.

"ItchancedthatsomelittletimelaterHugolefthis
gueststocarryfoodanddrink—withotherworsethings,
perchance—tohiscaptive,andsofoundthecageempty
andthebirdescaped.Then,asitwouldseem,hebecame
asonethathathadevil,for,rushingdownthestairs
intothedining-hall,hespranguponthegreattable,
flagonsandtrenchersflyingbeforehim,andhecried
aloudbeforeallthecompanythathewouldthatvery
nightrenderhisbodyandsoultothePowersofEvilif
hemightbutovertakethewench.Andwhiletherevellers
stoodaghastatthefuryoftheman,onemorewickedor,
itmaybe,moredrunkenthantherest,criedoutthat
theyshouldputthehoundsuponher.WhereatHugoran
fromthehouse,cryingtohisgroomsthattheyshould
saddlehismareandunkennelthepack,andgivingthe
houndsakerchiefofthemaid's,heswungthemtothe
line,andsoofffullcryinthemoonlightoverthemoor.

"Now,forsomespacetherevellersstoodagape,unable
tounderstandallthathadbeendoneinsuchhaste.But
anontheirbemusedwitsawoketothenatureofthedeed
whichwasliketobedoneuponthemoorlands.Everything
wasnowinanuproar,somecallingfortheirpistols,
somefortheirhorses,andsomeforanotherflaskof
wine.Butatlengthsomesensecamebacktotheircrazed
minds,andthewholeofthem,thirteeninnumber,took
horseandstartedinpursuit.Themoonshoneclearabove
them,andtheyrodeswiftlyabreast,takingthatcourse
whichthemaidmustneedshavetakenifsheweretoreach
herownhome.

"Theyhadgoneamileortwowhentheypassedoneofthe
nightshepherdsuponthemoorlands,andtheycriedto
himtoknowifhehadseenthehunt.Andtheman,as
thestorygoes,wassocrazedwithfearthathecould
scarcespeak,butatlasthesaidthathehadindeedseen
theunhappymaiden,withthehoundsuponhertrack.'But
Ihaveseenmorethanthat,'saidhe,'forHugoBaskerville
passedmeuponhisblackmare,andthereranmutebehind
himsuchahoundofhellasGodforbidshouldeverbeat
myheels.'Sothedrunkensquirescursedtheshepherd
androdeonward.Butsoontheirskinsturnedcold,for
therecameagallopingacrossthemoor,andtheblack
mare,dabbledwithwhitefroth,wentpastwithtrailing
bridleandemptysaddle.Thentherevellersrodeclose
together,foragreatfearwasonthem,buttheystill
followedoverthemoor,thougheach,hadhebeenalone,
wouldhavebeenrightgladtohaveturnedhishorse's
head.Ridingslowlyinthisfashiontheycameatlast
uponthehounds.These,thoughknownfortheirvalour

andtheirbreed,werewhimperinginaclusteratthe
headofadeepdiporgoyal,aswecallit,uponthe
moor,someslinkingawayandsome,withstartinghackles
andstaringeyes,gazingdownthenarrowvalleybeforethem.

"Thecompanyhadcometoahalt,moresobermen,asyou
mayguess,thanwhentheystarted.Themostofthem
wouldbynomeansadvance,butthreeofthem,theboldest,
oritmaybethemostdrunken,rodeforwarddownthegoyal.
Now,itopenedintoabroadspaceinwhichstoodtwoof
thosegreatstones,stilltobeseenthere,whichwere
setbycertainforgottenpeoplesinthedaysofold.
Themoonwasshiningbrightupontheclearing,andthere
inthecentrelaytheunhappymaidwhereshehadfallen,
deadoffearandoffatigue.Butitwasnotthesight
ofherbody,noryetwasitthatofthebodyofHugo
Baskervillelyingnearher,whichraisedthehairupon
theheadsofthesethreedare-devilroysterers,butit
wasthat,standingoverHugo,andpluckingathisthroat,
therestoodafoulthing,agreat,blackbeast,shaped
likeahound,yetlargerthananyhoundthatevermortal
eyehasrestedupon.Andevenastheylookedthething
torethethroatoutofHugoBaskerville,onwhich,asit
turneditsblazingeyesanddrippingjawsuponthem,the
threeshriekedwithfearandrodefordearlife,still
screaming,acrossthemoor.One,itissaid,diedthat
verynightofwhathehadseen,andtheothertwainwere
butbrokenmenfortherestoftheirdays.

"Suchisthetale,mysons,ofthecomingofthehound
whichissaidtohaveplaguedthefamilysosorelyever
since.IfIhavesetitdownitisbecausethatwhich
isclearlyknownhathlessterrorthanthatwhichisbut
hintedatandguessed.Norcanitbedeniedthatmany
ofthefamilyhavebeenunhappyintheirdeaths,which
havebeensudden,bloody,andmysterious.Yetmaywe
shelterourselvesintheinfinitegoodnessofProvidence,
whichwouldnotforeverpunishtheinnocentbeyondthat
thirdorfourthgenerationwhichisthreatenedinHoly
Writ.TothatProvidence,mysons,Iherebycommend
you,andIcounselyoubywayofcautiontoforbearfrom
crossingthemoorinthosedarkhourswhenthepowersof
evilareexalted.

"[ThisfromHugoBaskervilletohissonsRodgerandJohn,
withinstructionsthattheysaynothingthereoftotheir
sisterElizabeth.]"

When Dr. Mortimer had finished reading this singular narrative he pushed his spectacles up on his

forehead and stared across at Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The latter yawned and tossed the end of his
cigaretteintothefire.

"Well?"saidhe.

"Doyounotfinditinteresting?"

"Toacollectoroffairytales."

Dr.Mortimerdrewafoldednewspaperoutofhispocket.

"Now, Mr. Holmes, we will give you something a little more recent. This is the Devon County

ChronicleofMay14thofthisyear.ItisashortaccountofthefactselicitedatthedeathofSirCharles
Baskervillewhichoccurredafewdaysbeforethatdate."

Myfriendleanedalittleforwardandhisexpressionbecameintent.Ourvisitorreadjustedhisglasses

andbegan:

"TherecentsuddendeathofSirCharlesBaskerville,whose
namehasbeenmentionedastheprobableLiberalcandidate
forMid-Devonatthenextelection,hascastagloomover
thecounty.ThoughSirCharleshadresidedatBaskerville
Hallforacomparativelyshortperiodhisamiabilityof
characterandextremegenerosityhadwontheaffection
andrespectofallwhohadbeenbroughtintocontactwith
him.Inthesedaysofnouveauxrichesitisrefreshing

tofindacasewherethescionofanoldcountyfamily
whichhasfallenuponevildaysisabletomakehisown
fortuneandtobringitbackwithhimtorestorethe
fallengrandeurofhisline.SirCharles,asiswellknown,
madelargesumsofmoneyinSouthAfricanspeculation.
Morewisethanthosewhogoonuntilthewheelturns
againstthem,herealizedhisgainsandreturnedtoEngland
withthem.Itisonlytwoyearssincehetookuphis
residenceatBaskervilleHall,anditiscommontalkhow
largewerethoseschemesofreconstructionandimprovement
whichhavebeeninterruptedbyhisdeath.Beinghimself
childless,itwashisopenlyexpresseddesirethatthe
wholecountrysideshould,withinhisownlifetime,profit
byhisgoodfortune,andmanywillhavepersonalreasons
forbewailinghisuntimelyend.Hisgenerousdonations
tolocalandcountycharitieshavebeenfrequently
chronicledinthesecolumns.

"ThecircumstancesconnectedwiththedeathofSirCharles
cannotbesaidtohavebeenentirelyclearedupbythe
inquest,butatleastenoughhasbeendonetodisposeof
thoserumourstowhichlocalsuperstitionhasgivenrise.
Thereisnoreasonwhatevertosuspectfoulplay,orto
imaginethatdeathcouldbefromanybutnaturalcauses.
SirCharleswasawidower,andamanwhomaybesaidto
havebeeninsomewaysofaneccentrichabitofmind.
Inspiteofhisconsiderablewealthhewassimpleinhis
personaltastes,andhisindoorservantsatBaskerville
HallconsistedofamarriedcouplenamedBarrymore,the
husbandactingasbutlerandthewifeashousekeeper.
Theirevidence,corroboratedbythatofseveralfriends,
tendstoshowthatSirCharles'shealthhasforsometime
beenimpaired,andpointsespeciallytosomeaffection
oftheheart,manifestingitselfinchangesofcolour,
breathlessness,andacuteattacksofnervousdepression.
Dr.JamesMortimer,thefriendandmedicalattendantof
thedeceased,hasgivenevidencetothesameeffect.

"Thefactsofthecasearesimple.SirCharlesBaskerville
wasinthehabiteverynightbeforegoingtobedofwalking
downthefamousyewalleyofBaskervilleHall.Theevidence
oftheBarrymoresshowsthatthishadbeenhiscustom.
OnthefourthofMaySirCharleshaddeclaredhisintention
ofstartingnextdayforLondon,andhadorderedBarrymore
topreparehisluggage.Thatnighthewentoutasusual
forhisnocturnalwalk,inthecourseofwhichhewasin
thehabitofsmokingacigar.Heneverreturned.At
twelveo'clockBarrymore,findingthehalldoorstillopen,
becamealarmed,and,lightingalantern,wentinsearch
ofhismaster.Thedayhadbeenwet,andSirCharles's
footmarkswereeasilytraceddownthealley.Halfwaydown
thiswalkthereisagatewhichleadsoutontothemoor.
TherewereindicationsthatSirCharleshadstoodforsome
littletimehere.Hethenproceededdownthealley,and
itwasatthefarendofitthathisbodywasdiscovered.
Onefactwhichhasnotbeenexplainedisthestatement
ofBarrymorethathismaster'sfootprintsalteredtheir
characterfromthetimethathepassedthemoor-gate,and
thatheappearedfromthenceonwardtohavebeenwalking
uponhistoes.OneMurphy,agipsyhorse-dealer,wason
themooratnogreatdistanceatthetime,butheappears
byhisownconfessiontohavebeentheworsefordrink.
Hedeclaresthatheheardcriesbutisunabletostate
fromwhatdirectiontheycame.Nosignsofviolencewere
tobediscovereduponSirCharles'sperson,andthough
thedoctor'sevidencepointedtoanalmostincredible
facialdistortion—sogreatthatDr.Mortimerrefusedat
firsttobelievethatitwasindeedhisfriendandpatient
wholaybeforehim—itwasexplainedthatthatisasymptom
whichisnotunusualincasesofdyspnoeaanddeathfrom
cardiacexhaustion.Thisexplanationwasborneoutby
thepost-mortemexamination,whichshowedlong-standing
organicdisease,andthecoroner'sjuryreturneda
verdictinaccordancewiththemedicalevidence.Itis
wellthatthisisso,foritisobviouslyoftheutmost
importancethatSirCharles'sheirshouldsettleatthe
Hallandcontinuethegoodworkwhichhasbeensosadly

interrupted.Hadtheprosaicfindingofthecoronernot
finallyputanendtotheromanticstorieswhichhavebeen
whisperedinconnectionwiththeaffair,itmighthavebeen
difficulttofindatenantforBaskervilleHall.Itis
understoodthatthenextofkinisMr.HenryBaskerville,
ifhebestillalive,thesonofSirCharlesBaskerville's
youngerbrother.Theyoungmanwhenlastheardofwas
inAmerica,andinquiriesarebeinginstitutedwitha
viewtoinforminghimofhisgoodfortune."

Dr. Mortimer refolded his paper and replaced it in his pocket. "Those are the public facts, Mr.

Holmes,inconnectionwiththedeathofSirCharlesBaskerville."

"I must thank you," said Sherlock Holmes, "for calling my attention to a case which certainly

presents some features of interest. I had observed some newspaper comment at the time, but I was
exceedinglypreoccupiedbythatlittleaffairoftheVaticancameos,andinmyanxietytoobligethePope
IlosttouchwithseveralinterestingEnglishcases.Thisarticle,yousay,containsallthepublicfacts?"

"Itdoes."

"Then let me have the private ones." He leaned back, put his finger-tips together, and assumed his

mostimpassiveandjudicialexpression.

"Indoingso,"saidDr.Mortimer,whohadbeguntoshowsignsofsomestrongemotion,"Iamtelling

that which I have not confided to anyone. My motive for withholding it from the coroner's inquiry is
that a man of science shrinks from placing himself in the public position of seeming to indorse a
popularsuperstition.IhadthefurthermotivethatBaskervilleHall,asthepapersays,wouldcertainly
remainuntenantedifanythingweredonetoincreaseitsalreadyrathergrimreputation.Forboththese
reasons I thought that I was justified in telling rather less than I knew, since no practical good could
resultfromit,butwithyouthereisnoreasonwhyIshouldnotbeperfectlyfrank.

"The moor is very sparsely inhabited, and those who live near each other are thrown very much

together. For this reason I saw a good deal of Sir Charles Baskerville. With the exception of Mr.
Frankland,ofLafterHall,andMr.Stapleton,thenaturalist,therearenoothermenofeducationwithin
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
anatomyoftheBushmanandtheHottentot.

"WithinthelastfewmonthsitbecameincreasinglyplaintomethatSirCharles'snervoussystemwas

strainedtothebreakingpoint.HehadtakenthislegendwhichIhavereadyouexceedinglytoheart—so
muchsothat,althoughhewouldwalkinhisowngrounds,nothingwouldinducehimtogooutuponthe
moor at night. Incredible as it may appear to you, Mr. Holmes, he was honestly convinced that a
dreadfulfateoverhunghisfamily,andcertainlytherecordswhichhewasabletogiveofhisancestors
werenotencouraging.Theideaofsomeghastlypresenceconstantlyhauntedhim,andonmorethanone
occasionhehasaskedmewhetherIhadonmymedicaljourneysatnighteverseenanystrangecreature
orheardthebayingofahound.Thelatterquestionheputtomeseveraltimes,andalwayswithavoice
whichvibratedwithexcitement.

"Icanwellrememberdrivinguptohishouseintheeveningsomethreeweeksbeforethefatalevent.

Hechancedtobeathishalldoor.Ihaddescendedfrommygigandwasstandinginfrontofhim,whenI
sawhiseyesfixthemselvesovermyshoulderandstarepastmewithanexpressionofthemostdreadful
horror.IwhiskedroundandhadjusttimetocatchaglimpseofsomethingwhichItooktobealarge
blackcalfpassingattheheadofthedrive.SoexcitedandalarmedwashethatIwascompelledtogo
down to the spot where the animal had been and look around for it. It was gone, however, and the
incidentappearedtomaketheworstimpressionuponhismind.Istayedwithhimalltheevening,andit
wasonthatoccasion,toexplaintheemotionwhichhehadshown,thatheconfidedtomykeepingthat

narrativewhichIreadtoyouwhenfirstIcame.Imentionthissmallepisodebecauseitassumessome
importanceinviewofthetragedywhichfollowed,butIwasconvincedatthetimethatthematterwas
entirelytrivialandthathisexcitementhadnojustification.

"ItwasatmyadvicethatSirCharleswasabouttogotoLondon.Hisheartwas,Iknew,affected,and

the constant anxiety in which he lived, however chimerical the cause of it might be, was evidently
having a serious effect upon his health. I thought that a few months among the distractions of town
wouldsendhimbackanewman.Mr.Stapleton,amutualfriendwhowasmuchconcernedathisstate
ofhealth,wasofthesameopinion.Atthelastinstantcamethisterriblecatastrophe.

"OnthenightofSirCharles'sdeathBarrymorethebutler,whomadethediscovery,sentPerkinsthe

groomonhorsebacktome,andasIwassittinguplateIwasabletoreachBaskervilleHallwithinan
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,Iremarkedthechangeintheshapeoftheprintsafterthatpoint,Inotedthattherewerenoother
footstepssavethoseofBarrymoreonthesoftgravel,andfinallyIcarefullyexaminedthebody,which
hadnotbeentoucheduntilmyarrival.SirCharleslayonhisface,hisarmsout,hisfingersdugintothe
ground,andhisfeaturesconvulsedwithsomestrongemotiontosuchanextentthatIcouldhardlyhave
sworntohisidentity.Therewascertainlynophysicalinjuryofanykind.Butonefalsestatementwas
madebyBarrymoreattheinquest.Hesaidthattherewerenotracesuponthegroundroundthebody.
Hedidnotobserveany.ButIdid—somelittledistanceoff,butfreshandclear."

"Footprints?"

"Footprints."

"Aman'sorawoman's?"

Dr. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an instant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he

answered.

"Mr.Holmes,theywerethefootprintsofagigantichound!"

Chapter3.TheProblem

Iconfessatthesewordsashudderpassedthroughme.Therewasathrillinthedoctor'svoicewhich

showed that he was himself deeply moved by that which he told us. Holmes leaned forward in his
excitementandhiseyeshadthehard,dryglitterwhichshotfromthemwhenhewaskeenlyinterested.

"Yousawthis?"

"AsclearlyasIseeyou."

"Andyousaidnothing?"

"Whatwastheuse?"

"Howwasitthatnooneelsesawit?"

"Themarksweresometwentyyardsfromthebodyandnoonegavethemathought.Idon'tsupposeI

shouldhavedonesohadInotknownthislegend."

"Therearemanysheep-dogsonthemoor?"

"Nodoubt,butthiswasnosheep-dog."

"Yousayitwaslarge?"

"Enormous."

"Butithadnotapproachedthebody?"

"No."

"Whatsortofnightwasit?'

"Dampandraw."

"Butnotactuallyraining?"

"No."

"Whatisthealleylike?"

"Therearetwolinesofoldyewhedge,twelvefeethighandimpenetrable.Thewalkinthecentreis

abouteightfeetacross."

"Isthereanythingbetweenthehedgesandthewalk?"

"Yes,thereisastripofgrassaboutsixfeetbroadoneitherside."

"Iunderstandthattheyewhedgeispenetratedatonepointbyagate?"

"Yes,thewicket-gatewhichleadsontothemoor."

"Isthereanyotheropening?"

"None."

"Sothattoreachtheyewalleyoneeitherhastocomedownitfromthehouseorelsetoenteritbythe

moor-gate?"

"Thereisanexitthroughasummer-houseatthefarend."

"HadSirCharlesreachedthis?"

"No;helayaboutfiftyyardsfromit."

"Now,tellme,Dr.Mortimer—andthisisimportant—themarkswhichyousawwereonthepathand

notonthegrass?"

"Nomarkscouldshowonthegrass."

"Weretheyonthesamesideofthepathasthemoor-gate?"

"Yes;theywereontheedgeofthepathonthesamesideasthemoor-gate."

"Youinterestmeexceedingly.Anotherpoint.Wasthewicket-gateclosed?"

"Closedandpadlocked."

"Howhighwasit?"

"Aboutfourfeethigh."

"Thenanyonecouldhavegotoverit?"

"Yes."

"Andwhatmarksdidyouseebythewicket-gate?"

"Noneinparticular."

"Goodheaven!Didnooneexamine?"

"Yes,Iexamined,myself."

"Andfoundnothing?"

"Itwasallveryconfused.SirCharleshadevidentlystoodthereforfiveortenminutes."

"Howdoyouknowthat?"

"Becausetheashhadtwicedroppedfromhiscigar."

"Excellent!Thisisacolleague,Watson,afterourownheart.Butthemarks?"

"Hehadlefthisownmarksalloverthatsmallpatchofgravel.Icoulddiscernnoothers."

SherlockHolmesstruckhishandagainsthiskneewithanimpatientgesture.

"IfIhadonlybeenthere!"hecried."Itisevidentlyacaseofextraordinaryinterest,andonewhich

presented immense opportunities to the scientific expert. That gravel page upon which I might have
readsomuchhasbeenlongerethissmudgedbytherainanddefacedbytheclogsofcuriouspeasants.
Oh,Dr.Mortimer,Dr.Mortimer,tothinkthatyoushouldnothavecalledmein!Youhaveindeedmuch
toanswerfor."

"Icouldnotcallyouin,Mr.Holmes,withoutdisclosingthesefactstotheworld,andIhavealready

givenmyreasonsfornotwishingtodoso.Besides,besides—"

"Whydoyouhesitate?"

"Thereisarealminwhichthemostacuteandmostexperiencedofdetectivesishelpless."

"Youmeanthatthethingissupernatural?"

"Ididnotpositivelysayso."

"No,butyouevidentlythinkit."

"Since the tragedy, Mr. Holmes, there have come to my ears several incidents which are hard to

reconcilewiththesettledorderofNature."

"Forexample?"

"Ifindthatbeforetheterribleeventoccurredseveralpeoplehadseenacreatureuponthemoorwhich

corresponds with this Baskerville demon, and which could not possibly be any animal known to
science. They all agreed that it was a huge creature, luminous, ghastly, and spectral. I have cross-
examinedthesemen,oneofthemahard-headedcountryman,oneafarrier,andoneamoorlandfarmer,
who all tell the same story of this dreadful apparition, exactly corresponding to the hell-hound of the
legend.Iassureyouthatthereisareignofterrorinthedistrict,andthatitisahardymanwhowillcross
themooratnight."

"Andyou,atrainedmanofscience,believeittobesupernatural?"

"Idonotknowwhattobelieve."

Holmesshruggedhisshoulders."Ihavehithertoconfinedmyinvestigationstothisworld,"saidhe.

"InamodestwayIhavecombatedevil,buttotakeontheFatherofEvilhimselfwould,perhaps,betoo
ambitiousatask.Yetyoumustadmitthatthefootmarkismaterial."

"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 supernaturalists. But now, Dr. Mortimer, tell me this. If

youholdtheseviews,whyhaveyoucometoconsultmeatall?Youtellmeinthesamebreaththatitis
uselesstoinvestigateSirCharles'sdeath,andthatyoudesiremetodoit."

"IdidnotsaythatIdesiredyoutodoit."

"Then,howcanIassistyou?"

"By advising me as to what I should do with Sir Henry Baskerville, who arrives at Waterloo

Station"—Dr.Mortimerlookedathiswatch—"inexactlyonehourandaquarter."

"Hebeingtheheir?"

"Yes.OnthedeathofSirCharlesweinquiredforthisyounggentlemanandfoundthathehadbeen

farminginCanada.Fromtheaccountswhichhavereachedusheisanexcellentfellowineveryway.I
speaknownotasamedicalmanbutasatrusteeandexecutorofSirCharles'swill."

"Thereisnootherclaimant,Ipresume?"

"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,isthefatherofthisladHenry.Thethird,Rodger,wastheblacksheepofthefamily.Hecameof
theoldmasterfulBaskervillestrainandwastheveryimage,theytellme,ofthefamilypictureofold
Hugo.HemadeEnglandtoohottoholdhim,fledtoCentralAmerica,anddiedtherein1876ofyellow
fever.HenryisthelastoftheBaskervilles.InonehourandfiveminutesImeethimatWaterlooStation.
I have had a wire that he arrived at Southampton this morning. Now, Mr. Holmes, what would you
advisemetodowithhim?"

"Whyshouldhenotgotothehomeofhisfathers?"

"Itseemsnatural,doesitnot?Andyet,considerthateveryBaskervillewhogoestheremeetswithan

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.Andyetitcannotbedeniedthattheprosperityofthewholepoor,bleakcountrysidedependsupon
hispresence.AllthegoodworkwhichhasbeendonebySirCharleswillcrashtothegroundifthereis
notenantoftheHall.IfearlestIshouldbeswayedtoomuchbymyownobviousinterestinthematter,
andthatiswhyIbringthecasebeforeyouandaskforyouradvice."

Holmesconsideredforalittletime.

"Putintoplainwords,thematteristhis,"saidhe."Inyouropinionthereisadiabolicalagencywhich

makesDartmooranunsafeabodeforaBaskerville—thatisyouropinion?"

"AtleastImightgothelengthofsayingthatthereissomeevidencethatthismaybeso."

"Exactly. But surely, if your supernatural theory be correct, it could work the young man evil in

LondonaseasilyasinDevonshire.Adevilwithmerelylocalpowerslikeaparishvestrywouldbetoo
inconceivableathing."

"Youputthemattermoreflippantly,Mr.Holmes,thanyouwouldprobablydoifyouwerebrought

intopersonalcontactwiththesethings.Youradvice,then,asIunderstandit,isthattheyoungmanwill
beassafeinDevonshireasinLondon.Hecomesinfiftyminutes.Whatwouldyourecommend?"

"Irecommend,sir,thatyoutakeacab,calloffyourspanielwhoisscratchingatmyfrontdoor,and

proceedtoWaterlootomeetSirHenryBaskerville."

"Andthen?"

"AndthenyouwillsaynothingtohimatalluntilIhavemadeupmymindaboutthematter."

"Howlongwillittakeyoutomakeupyourmind?"

"Twenty-fourhours.Atteno'clocktomorrow,Dr.Mortimer,Iwillbemuchobligedtoyouifyouwill

calluponmehere,anditwillbeofhelptomeinmyplansforthefutureifyouwillbringSirHenry
Baskervillewithyou."

"I will do so, Mr. Holmes." He scribbled the appointment on his shirt-cuff and hurried off in his

strange,peering,absent-mindedfashion.Holmesstoppedhimattheheadofthestair.

"Onlyonemorequestion,Dr.Mortimer.YousaythatbeforeSirCharlesBaskerville'sdeathseveral

peoplesawthisapparitionuponthemoor?"

"Threepeopledid."

"Didanyseeitafter?"

"Ihavenotheardofany."

"Thankyou.Good-morning."

Holmes returned to his seat with that quiet look of inward satisfaction which meant that he had a

congenialtaskbeforehim.

"Goingout,Watson?"

"UnlessIcanhelpyou."

"No,mydearfellow,itisatthehourofactionthatIturntoyouforaid.Butthisissplendid,really

uniquefromsomepointsofview.WhenyoupassBradley's,wouldyouaskhimtosendupapoundof
thestrongestshagtobacco?Thankyou.Itwouldbeaswellifyoucouldmakeitconvenientnottoreturn
beforeevening.ThenIshouldbeverygladtocompareimpressionsastothismostinterestingproblem
whichhasbeensubmittedtousthismorning."

Iknewthatseclusionandsolitudewereverynecessaryformyfriendinthosehoursofintensemental

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.IthereforespentthedayatmyclubanddidnotreturntoBakerStreetuntilevening.Itwas
nearlynineo'clockwhenIfoundmyselfinthesitting-roomoncemore.

MyfirstimpressionasIopenedthedoorwasthatafirehadbrokenout,fortheroomwassofilled

withsmokethatthelightofthelampuponthetablewasblurredbyit.AsIentered,however,myfears
weresetatrest,foritwastheacridfumesofstrongcoarsetobaccowhichtookmebythethroatandset
mecoughing.ThroughthehazeIhadavaguevisionofHolmesinhisdressing-gowncoiledupinan
armchairwithhisblackclaypipebetweenhislips.Severalrollsofpaperlayaroundhim.

"Caughtcold,Watson?"saidhe.

"No,it'sthispoisonousatmosphere."

"Isupposeitisprettythick,nowthatyoumentionit."

"Thick!Itisintolerable."

"Openthewindow,then!Youhavebeenatyourcluballday,Iperceive."

"MydearHolmes!"

"AmIright?"

"Certainly,buthow?"

Helaughedatmybewilderedexpression."Thereisadelightfulfreshnessaboutyou,Watson,which

makes it a pleasure to exercise any small powers which I possess at your expense. A gentleman goes
forthonashoweryandmiryday.Hereturnsimmaculateintheeveningwiththeglossstillonhishat
and his boots. He has been a fixture therefore all day. He is not a man with intimate friends. Where,
then,couldhehavebeen?Isitnotobvious?"

"Well,itisratherobvious."

"Theworldisfullofobviousthingswhichnobodybyanychanceeverobserves.Wheredoyouthink

thatIhavebeen?"

"Afixturealso."

"Onthecontrary,IhavebeentoDevonshire."

"Inspirit?"

"Exactly. My body has remained in this armchair and has, I regret to observe, consumed in my

absence two large pots of coffee and an incredible amount of tobacco. After you left I sent down to
Stamford'sfortheOrdnancemapofthisportionofthemoor,andmyspirithashoveredoveritallday.I
flattermyselfthatIcouldfindmywayabout."

"Alarge-scalemap,Ipresume?"

"Verylarge."

He unrolled one section and held it over his knee. "Here you have the particular district which

concernsus.ThatisBaskervilleHallinthemiddle."

"Withawoodroundit?"

"Exactly.Ifancytheyewalley,thoughnotmarkedunderthatname,muststretchalongthisline,with

the moor, as you perceive, upon the right of it. This small clump of buildings here is the hamlet of
Grimpen,whereourfriendDr.Mortimerhashisheadquarters.Withinaradiusoffivemilesthereare,as
yousee,onlyaveryfewscattereddwellings.HereisLafterHall,whichwasmentionedinthenarrative.
Thereisahouseindicatedherewhichmaybetheresidenceofthenaturalist—Stapleton,ifIremember
right,washisname.Herearetwomoorlandfarmhouses,HighTorandFoulmire.Thenfourteenmiles
away the great convict prison of Princetown. Between and around these scattered points extends the
desolate,lifelessmoor.This,then,isthestageuponwhichtragedyhasbeenplayed,anduponwhichwe
mayhelptoplayitagain."

"Itmustbeawildplace."

"Yes,thesettingisaworthyone.Ifthedevildiddesiretohaveahandintheaffairsofmen—"

"Thenyouareyourselfincliningtothesupernaturalexplanation."

"Thedevil'sagentsmaybeoffleshandblood,maytheynot?Therearetwoquestionswaitingforus

attheoutset.Theoneiswhetheranycrimehasbeencommittedatall;thesecondis,whatisthecrime
andhowwasitcommitted?Ofcourse,ifDr.Mortimer'ssurmiseshouldbecorrect,andwearedealing
withforcesoutsidetheordinarylawsofNature,thereisanendofourinvestigation.Butwearebound
toexhaustallotherhypothesesbeforefallingbackuponthisone.Ithinkwe'llshutthatwindowagain,if
youdon'tmind.Itisasingularthing,butIfindthataconcentratedatmospherehelpsaconcentrationof
thought.Ihavenotpushedittothelengthofgettingintoaboxtothink,butthatisthelogicaloutcome
ofmyconvictions.Haveyouturnedthecaseoverinyourmind?"

"Yes,Ihavethoughtagooddealofitinthecourseoftheday."

"Whatdoyoumakeofit?"

"Itisverybewildering."

"It has certainly a character of its own. There are points of distinction about it. That change in the

footprints,forexample.Whatdoyoumakeofthat?"

"Mortimersaidthatthemanhadwalkedontiptoedownthatportionofthealley."

"Heonlyrepeatedwhatsomefoolhadsaidattheinquest.Whyshouldamanwalkontiptoedownthe

alley?"

"Whatthen?"

"Hewasrunning,Watson—runningdesperately,runningforhislife,runninguntilhebursthisheart

—andfelldeaduponhisface."

"Runningfromwhat?"

"Thereliesourproblem.Thereareindicationsthatthemanwascrazedwithfearbeforeeverhebegan

torun."

"Howcanyousaythat?"

"Iampresumingthatthecauseofhisfearscametohimacrossthemoor.Ifthatwereso,anditseems

mostprobable,onlyamanwhohadlosthiswitswouldhaverunfromthehouseinsteadoftowardsit.If
the gipsy's evidence may be taken as true, he ran with cries for help in the direction where help was
leastlikelytobe.Then,again,whomwashewaitingforthatnight,andwhywashewaitingforhimin
theyewalleyratherthaninhisownhouse?"

"Youthinkthathewaswaitingforsomeone?"

"Themanwaselderlyandinfirm.Wecanunderstandhistakinganeveningstroll,butthegroundwas

dampandthenightinclement.Isitnaturalthatheshouldstandforfiveortenminutes,asDr.Mortimer,
withmorepracticalsensethanIshouldhavegivenhimcreditfor,deducedfromthecigarash?"

"Buthewentouteveryevening."

"Ithinkitunlikelythathewaitedatthemoor-gateeveryevening.Onthecontrary,theevidenceisthat

he avoided the moor. That night he waited there. It was the night before he made his departure for
London.The thing takesshape, Watson. Itbecomes coherent. Might Iask you tohand me my violin,
andwewillpostponeallfurtherthoughtuponthisbusinessuntilwehavehadtheadvantageofmeeting
Dr.MortimerandSirHenryBaskervilleinthemorning."

Chapter4.SirHenryBaskerville

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.
Mortimerwasshownup,followedbytheyoungbaronet.Thelatterwasasmall,alert,dark-eyedman
aboutthirtyyearsofage,verysturdilybuilt,withthickblackeyebrowsandastrong,pugnaciousface.
Heworearuddy-tintedtweedsuitandhadtheweather-beatenappearanceofonewhohasspentmostof
histimeintheopenair,andyettherewassomethinginhissteadyeyeandthequietassuranceofhis
bearingwhichindicatedthegentleman.

"ThisisSirHenryBaskerville,"saidDr.Mortimer.

"Why,yes,"saidhe,"andthestrangethingis,Mr.SherlockHolmes,thatifmyfriendherehadnot

proposedcomingroundtoyouthismorningIshouldhavecomeonmyownaccount.Iunderstandthat
youthinkoutlittlepuzzles,andI'vehadonethismorningwhichwantsmorethinkingoutthanIamable
togiveit."

"Praytakeaseat,SirHenry.DoIunderstandyoutosaythatyouhaveyourselfhadsomeremarkable

experiencesinceyouarrivedinLondon?"

"Nothingofmuchimportance,Mr.Holmes.Onlyajoke,aslikeasnot.Itwasthisletter,ifyoucan

callitaletter,whichreachedmethismorning."

He laid an envelope upon the table, and we all bent over it. It was of common quality, grayish in

colour.Theaddress,"SirHenryBaskerville,NorthumberlandHotel,"wasprintedinroughcharacters;
thepost-mark"CharingCross,"andthedateofpostingtheprecedingevening.

"Who knew that you were going to the Northumberland Hotel?" asked Holmes, glancing keenly

acrossatourvisitor.

"Noonecouldhaveknown.WeonlydecidedafterImetDr.Mortimer."

"ButDr.Mortimerwasnodoubtalreadystoppingthere?"

"No,Ihadbeenstayingwithafriend,"saidthedoctor.

"Therewasnopossibleindicationthatweintendedtogotothishotel."

"Hum!Someoneseemstobeverydeeplyinterestedinyourmovements."Outoftheenvelopehetook

ahalf-sheetoffoolscappaperfoldedintofour.Thisheopenedandspreadflatuponthetable.Acrossthe
middleofitasinglesentencehadbeenformedbytheexpedientofpastingprintedwordsuponit.Itran:

Asyouvalueyourlifeoryourreasonkeepawayfromthemoor.

Theword"moor"onlywasprintedinink.

"Now," said Sir Henry Baskerville, "perhaps you will tell me, Mr. Holmes, what in thunder is the

meaningofthat,andwhoitisthattakessomuchinterestinmyaffairs?"

"Whatdoyoumakeofit,Dr.Mortimer?Youmustallowthatthereisnothingsupernaturalaboutthis,

atanyrate?"

"No, sir, but it might very well come from someone who was convinced that the business is

supernatural."

"Whatbusiness?"askedSirHenrysharply."Itseemstomethatallyougentlemenknowagreatdeal

morethanIdoaboutmyownaffairs."

"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

interesting document, which must have been put together and posted yesterday evening. Have you
yesterday'sTimes,Watson?"

"Itishereinthecorner."

"Might I trouble you for it—the inside page, please, with the leading articles?" He glanced swiftly

overit,runninghiseyesupanddownthecolumns."Capitalarticlethisonfreetrade.Permitmetogive
youanextractfromit.

'Youmaybecajoledintoimaginingthatyourownspecial
tradeoryourownindustrywillbeencouragedbya
protectivetariff,butitstandstoreasonthatsuch
legislationmustinthelongrunkeepawaywealthfromthe
country,diminishthevalueofourimports,andlowerthe
generalconditionsoflifeinthisisland.'

"What do you think of that, Watson?" cried Holmes in high glee, rubbing his hands together with

satisfaction."Don'tyouthinkthatisanadmirablesentiment?"

Dr.MortimerlookedatHolmeswithanairofprofessionalinterest,andSirHenryBaskervilleturned

apairofpuzzleddarkeyesuponme.

"Idon'tknowmuchaboutthetariffandthingsofthatkind,"saidhe,"butitseemstomewe'vegota

bitoffthetrailsofarasthatnoteisconcerned."

"Onthecontrary,Ithinkweareparticularlyhotuponthetrail,SirHenry.Watsonhereknowsmore

about my methods than you do, but I fear that even he has not quite grasped the significance of this
sentence."

"No,IconfessthatIseenoconnection."

"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,''keepaway,''fromthe.'Don'tyouseenowwhencethese
wordshavebeentaken?"

"Bythunder,you'reright!Well,ifthatisn'tsmart!"criedSirHenry.

"Ifanypossibledoubtremaineditissettledbythefactthat'keepaway'and'fromthe'arecutoutin

onepiece."

"Well,now—soitis!"

"Really,Mr.Holmes,thisexceedsanythingwhichIcouldhaveimagined,"saidDr.Mortimer,gazing

atmyfriendinamazement."Icouldunderstandanyonesayingthatthewordswerefromanewspaper;
butthatyoushouldnamewhich,andaddthatitcamefromtheleadingarticle,isreallyoneofthemost
remarkablethingswhichIhaveeverknown.Howdidyoudoit?"

"Ipresume,Doctor,thatyoucouldtelltheskullofanegrofromthatofanEsquimau?"

"Mostcertainly."

"Buthow?"

"Because that is my special hobby. The differences are obvious. The supra-orbital crest, the facial

angle,themaxillarycurve,the—"

"Butthisismyspecialhobby,andthedifferencesareequallyobvious.Thereisasmuchdifferenceto

myeyesbetweentheleadedbourgeoistypeofaTimesarticleandtheslovenlyprintofaneveninghalf-
pennypaperastherecouldbebetweenyournegroandyourEsquimau.Thedetectionoftypesisoneof
themostelementarybranchesofknowledgetothespecialexpertincrime,thoughIconfessthatonce
when I was very young I confused the Leeds Mercury with the Western Morning News. But a Times
leaderisentirelydistinctive,andthesewordscouldhavebeentakenfromnothingelse.Asitwasdone
yesterdaythestrongprobabilitywasthatweshouldfindthewordsinyesterday'sissue."

"So far as I can follow you, then, Mr. Holmes," said Sir Henry Baskerville, "someone cut out this

messagewithascissors—"

"Nail-scissors," said Holmes. "You can see that it was a very short-bladed scissors, since the cutter

hadtotaketwosnipsover'keepaway.'"

"That is so. Someone, then, cut out the message with a pair of short-bladed scissors, pasted it with

paste—"

"Gum,"saidHolmes.

"Withgumontothepaper.ButIwanttoknowwhytheword'moor'shouldhavebeenwritten?"

"Because he could not find it in print. The other words were all simple and might be found in any

issue,but'moor'wouldbelesscommon."

"Why,ofcourse,thatwouldexplainit.Haveyoureadanythingelseinthismessage,Mr.Holmes?"

"Thereareoneortwoindications,andyettheutmostpainshavebeentakentoremoveallclues.The

address,youobserveisprintedinroughcharacters.ButtheTimesisapaperwhichisseldomfoundin
anyhandsbutthoseofthehighlyeducated.Wemaytakeit,therefore,thattheletterwascomposedby
aneducatedmanwhowishedtoposeasanuneducatedone,andhisefforttoconcealhisownwriting
suggeststhatthatwritingmightbeknown,orcometobeknown,byyou.Again,youwillobservethat
thewordsarenotgummedoninanaccurateline,butthatsomearemuchhigherthanothers.'Life,'for
exampleisquiteoutofitsproperplace.Thatmaypointtocarelessnessoritmaypointtoagitationand
hurryuponthepartofthecutter.OnthewholeIinclinetothelatterview,sincethematterwasevidently
important,anditisunlikelythatthecomposerofsuchaletterwouldbecareless.Ifhewereinahurryit
opens up the interesting question why he should be in a hurry, since any letter posted up to early
morningwouldreachSirHenrybeforehewouldleavehishotel.Didthecomposerfearaninterruption
—andfromwhom?"

"Wearecomingnowratherintotheregionofguesswork,"saidDr.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
speculation.Now,youwouldcallitaguess,nodoubt,butIamalmostcertainthatthisaddresshasbeen
writteninahotel."

"Howintheworldcanyousaythat?"

"Ifyouexamineitcarefullyyouwillseethatboththepenandtheinkhavegiventhewritertrouble.

Thepenhassplutteredtwiceinasinglewordandhasrundrythreetimesinashortaddress,showing
thattherewasverylittleinkinthebottle.Now,aprivatepenorink-bottleisseldomallowedtobein
such a state, and the combination of the two must be quite rare. But you know the hotel ink and the
hotelpen,whereitisraretogetanythingelse.Yes,Ihaveverylittlehesitationinsayingthatcouldwe
examinethewaste-paperbasketsofthehotelsaroundCharingCrossuntilwefoundtheremainsofthe
mutilatedTimesleaderwecouldlayourhandsstraightuponthepersonwhosentthissingularmessage.
Halloa!Halloa!What'sthis?"

Hewascarefullyexaminingthefoolscap,uponwhichthewordswerepasted,holdingitonlyaninch

ortwofromhiseyes.

"Well?"

"Nothing,"saidhe,throwingitdown."Itisablankhalf-sheetofpaper,withoutevenawater-mark

upon it. I think we have drawn as much as we can from this curious letter; and now, Sir Henry, has
anythingelseofinteresthappenedtoyousinceyouhavebeeninLondon?"

"Why,no,Mr.Holmes.Ithinknot."

"Youhavenotobservedanyonefolloworwatchyou?"

"Iseemtohavewalkedrightintothethickofadimenovel,"saidourvisitor."Whyinthundershould

anyonefolloworwatchme?"

"Wearecomingtothat.Youhavenothingelsetoreporttousbeforewegointothismatter?"

"Well,itdependsuponwhatyouthinkworthreporting."

"Ithinkanythingoutoftheordinaryroutineoflifewellworthreporting."

SirHenrysmiled."Idon'tknowmuchofBritishlifeyet,forIhavespentnearlyallmytimeinthe

StatesandinCanada.ButIhopethattoloseoneofyourbootsisnotpartoftheordinaryroutineoflife
overhere."

"Youhavelostoneofyourboots?"

"Mydearsir,"criedDr.Mortimer,"itisonlymislaid.Youwillfinditwhenyoureturntothehotel.

WhatistheuseoftroublingMr.Holmeswithtriflesofthiskind?"

"Well,heaskedmeforanythingoutsidetheordinaryroutine."

"Exactly," said Holmes, "however foolish the incident may seem. You have lost one of your boots,

yousay?"

"Well,mislaidit,anyhow.Iputthembothoutsidemydoorlastnight,andtherewasonlyoneinthe

morning.Icouldgetnosenseoutofthechapwhocleansthem.TheworstofitisthatIonlyboughtthe
pairlastnightintheStrand,andIhaveneverhadthemon."

"Ifyouhaveneverwornthem,whydidyouputthemouttobecleaned?"

"Theyweretanbootsandhadneverbeenvarnished.ThatwaswhyIputthemout."

"ThenIunderstandthatonyourarrivalinLondonyesterdayyouwentoutatonceandboughtapair

ofboots?"

"Ididagooddealofshopping.Dr.Mortimerherewentroundwithme.Yousee,ifIamtobesquire

downthereI mustdressthe part,andit maybethat Ihave gotalittle carelessinmy waysoutWest.
AmongotherthingsIboughtthesebrownboots—gavesixdollarsforthem—andhadonestolenbefore
everIhadthemonmyfeet."

"It seems a singularly useless thing to steal," said Sherlock Holmes. "I confess that I share Dr.

Mortimer'sbeliefthatitwillnotbelongbeforethemissingbootisfound."

"And, now, gentlemen," said the baronet with decision, "it seems to me that I have spoken quite

enoughaboutthelittlethatIknow.Itistimethatyoukeptyourpromiseandgavemeafullaccountof
whatwearealldrivingat."

"Yourrequestisaveryreasonableone,"Holmesanswered."Dr.Mortimer,Ithinkyoucouldnotdo

betterthantotellyourstoryasyoutoldittous."

Thusencouraged,ourscientificfrienddrewhispapersfromhispocketandpresentedthewholecase

ashehaddoneuponthemorningbefore.SirHenryBaskervillelistenedwiththedeepestattentionand
withanoccasionalexclamationofsurprise.

"Well,Iseemtohavecomeintoaninheritancewithavengeance,"saidhewhenthelongnarrative

wasfinished."Ofcourse,I'veheardofthehoundeversinceIwasinthenursery.It'sthepetstoryofthe
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
mindwhetherit'sacaseforapolicemanoraclergyman."

"Precisely."

"Andnowthere'sthisaffairofthelettertomeatthehotel.Isupposethatfitsintoitsplace."

"Itseemstoshowthatsomeoneknowsmorethanwedoaboutwhatgoesonuponthemoor,"saidDr.

Mortimer.

"And also," said Holmes, "that someone is not ill-disposed towards you, since they warn you of

danger."

"Oritmaybethattheywish,fortheirownpurposes,toscaremeaway."

"Well,ofcourse,thatispossiblealso.Iamverymuchindebtedtoyou,Dr.Mortimer,forintroducing

metoaproblemwhichpresentsseveralinterestingalternatives.Butthepracticalpointwhichwenow
havetodecide,SirHenry,iswhetheritisorisnotadvisableforyoutogotoBaskervilleHall."

"WhyshouldInotgo?"

"Thereseemstobedanger."

"Doyoumeandangerfromthisfamilyfiendordoyoumeandangerfromhumanbeings?"

"Well,thatiswhatwehavetofindout."

"Whicheveritis,myanswerisfixed.Thereisnodevilinhell,Mr.Holmes,andthereisnomanupon

earthwhocanpreventmefromgoingtothehomeofmyownpeople,andyoumaytakethattobemy
finalanswer."Hisdarkbrowsknittedandhisfaceflushedtoaduskyredashespoke.Itwasevidentthat
thefierytemperoftheBaskervilleswasnotextinctinthistheirlastrepresentative."Meanwhile,"said
he,"Ihavehardlyhadtimetothinkoverallthatyouhavetoldme.It'sabigthingforamantohaveto
understand and to decide at one sitting. I should like to have a quiet hour by myself 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.Supposeyouandyourfriend,Dr.Watson,comeroundandlunchwithusattwo.I'llbeabletotell
youmoreclearlythenhowthisthingstrikesme."

"Isthatconvenienttoyou,Watson?"

"Perfectly."

"Thenyoumayexpectus.ShallIhaveacabcalled?"

"I'dprefertowalk,forthisaffairhasflurriedmerather."

"I'lljoinyouinawalk,withpleasure,"saidhiscompanion.

"Thenwemeetagainattwoo'clock.Aurevoir,andgood-morning!"

We heard the steps of our visitors descend the stair and the bang of the front door. In an instant

Holmeshadchangedfromthelanguiddreamertothemanofaction.

"Yourhatandboots,Watson,quick!Notamomenttolose!"Herushedintohisroominhisdressing-

gownandwasbackagaininafewsecondsinafrock-coat.Wehurriedtogetherdownthestairsandinto
thestreet.Dr.MortimerandBaskervillewerestillvisibleabouttwohundredyardsaheadofusinthe
directionofOxfordStreet.

"ShallIrunonandstopthem?"

"Notfortheworld,mydearWatson.Iamperfectlysatisfiedwithyourcompanyifyouwilltolerate

mine.Ourfriendsarewise,foritiscertainlyaveryfinemorningforawalk."

Hequickenedhispaceuntilwehaddecreasedthedistancewhichdividedusbyabouthalf.Then,still

keepingahundredyardsbehind,wefollowedintoOxfordStreetandsodownRegentStreet.Onceour
friendsstoppedandstaredintoashopwindow,uponwhichHolmesdidthesame.Aninstantafterwards
hegavealittlecryofsatisfaction,and,followingthedirectionofhiseagereyes,Isawthatahansom
cab with a man inside which had halted on the other side of the street was now proceeding slowly

onwardagain.

"There'sourman,Watson!Comealong!We'llhaveagoodlookathim,ifwecandonomore."

AtthatinstantIwasawareofabushyblackbeardandapairofpiercingeyesturneduponusthrough

the side window of the cab. Instantly the trapdoor at the top flew up, something was screamed to the
driver,andthecabflewmadlyoffdownRegentStreet.Holmeslookedeagerlyroundforanother,butno
emptyonewasinsight.Thenhedashedinwildpursuitamidthestreamofthetraffic,butthestartwas
toogreat,andalreadythecabwasoutofsight.

"Therenow!"saidHolmesbitterlyasheemergedpantingandwhitewithvexationfromthetideof

vehicles."Waseversuchbadluckandsuchbadmanagement,too?Watson,Watson,ifyouareanhonest
manyouwillrecordthisalsoandsetitagainstmysuccesses!"

"Whowastheman?"

"Ihavenotanidea."

"Aspy?"

"Well,itwasevidentfromwhatwehaveheardthatBaskervillehasbeenverycloselyshadowedby

someone since he has been in town. How else could it be known so quickly that it was the
NorthumberlandHotelwhichhehadchosen?IftheyhadfollowedhimthefirstdayIarguedthatthey
would follow him also the second. You may have observed that I twice strolled over to the window
whileDr.Mortimerwasreadinghislegend."

"Yes,Iremember."

"I was looking out for loiterers in the street, but I saw none. We are dealing with a clever man,

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.Sowilywashethathehadnottrustedhimselfuponfoot,buthehadavailedhimselfofacab
so that he could loiter behind or dash past them and so escape their notice. His method had the
additionaladvantagethatiftheyweretotakeacabhewasallreadytofollowthem.Ithas,however,one
obviousdisadvantage."

"Itputshiminthepowerofthecabman."

"Exactly."

"Whatapitywedidnotgetthenumber!"

"MydearWatson,clumsyasIhavebeen,yousurelydonotseriouslyimaginethatIneglectedtoget

thenumber?No.2704isourman.Butthatisnousetousforthemoment."

"Ifailtoseehowyoucouldhavedonemore."

"OnobservingthecabIshouldhaveinstantlyturnedandwalkedintheotherdirection.Ishouldthen

atmyleisurehavehiredasecondcabandfollowedthefirstatarespectfuldistance,or,betterstill,have
driven to the Northumberland Hotel and waited there. When our unknown had followed Baskerville
homeweshouldhavehadtheopportunityofplayinghisowngameuponhimselfandseeingwherehe
made for. As it is, by an indiscreet eagerness, which was taken advantage of with extraordinary
quicknessandenergybyouropponent,wehavebetrayedourselvesandlostourman."

WehadbeensaunteringslowlydownRegentStreetduringthisconversation,andDr.Mortimer,with

hiscompanion,hadlongvanishedinfrontofus.

"There is no object in our following them," said Holmes. "The shadow has departed and will not

return.Wemustseewhatfurthercardswehaveinourhandsandplaythemwithdecision.Couldyou

sweartothatman'sfacewithinthecab?"

"Icouldswearonlytothebeard."

"AndsocouldI—fromwhichIgatherthatinallprobabilityitwasafalseone.Aclevermanuponso

delicateanerrandhasnouseforabeardsavetoconcealhisfeatures.Comeinhere,Watson!"

Heturnedintooneofthedistrictmessengeroffices,wherehewaswarmlygreetedbythemanager.

"Ah,Wilson,IseeyouhavenotforgottenthelittlecaseinwhichIhadthegoodfortunetohelpyou?"

"No,sir,indeedIhavenot.Yousavedmygoodname,andperhapsmylife."

"Mydearfellow,youexaggerate.Ihavesomerecollection,Wilson,thatyouhadamongyourboysa

ladnamedCartwright,whoshowedsomeabilityduringtheinvestigation."

"Yes,sir,heisstillwithus."

"Couldyouringhimup?—thankyou!AndIshouldbegladtohavechangeofthisfive-poundnote."

Aladoffourteen,withabright,keenface,hadobeyedthesummonsofthemanager.Hestoodnow

gazingwithgreatreverenceatthefamousdetective.

"LetmehavetheHotelDirectory,"saidHolmes."Thankyou!Now,Cartwright,therearethenames

oftwenty-threehotelshere,allintheimmediateneighbourhoodofCharingCross.Doyousee?"

"Yes,sir."

"Youwillvisiteachoftheseinturn."

"Yes,sir."

"You will begin in each case by giving the outside porter one shilling. Here are twenty-three

shillings."

"Yes,sir."

"Youwilltellhimthatyouwanttoseethewaste-paperofyesterday.Youwillsaythatanimportant

telegramhasmiscarriedandthatyouarelookingforit.Youunderstand?"

"Yes,sir."

"ButwhatyouarereallylookingforisthecentrepageoftheTimeswithsomeholescutinitwith

scissors.HereisacopyoftheTimes.Itisthispage.Youcouldeasilyrecognizeit,couldyounot?"

"Yes,sir."

"Ineachcasetheoutsideporterwillsendforthehallporter,towhomalsoyouwillgiveashilling.

Herearetwenty-threeshillings.Youwillthenlearninpossiblytwentycasesoutofthetwenty-threethat
thewasteofthedaybeforehasbeenburnedorremoved.Inthethreeothercasesyouwillbeshowna
heapofpaperandyouwilllookforthispageoftheTimesamongit.Theoddsareenormouslyagainst
your finding it. There are ten shillings over in case of emergencies. Let me have a report by wire at
BakerStreetbeforeevening.Andnow,Watson,itonlyremainsforustofindoutbywiretheidentityof
thecabman,No.2704,andthenwewilldropintooneoftheBondStreetpicturegalleriesandfillinthe
timeuntilwearedueatthehotel."

Chapter5.ThreeBrokenThreads

SherlockHolmeshad,inaveryremarkabledegree,thepowerofdetachinghismindatwill.Fortwo

hoursthestrangebusinessinwhichwehadbeeninvolvedappearedtobeforgotten,andhewasentirely
absorbedinthepicturesofthemodernBelgianmasters.Hewouldtalkofnothingbutart,ofwhichhe
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

oncewhenyoucame."

"Haveyouanyobjectiontomylookingatyourregister?"saidHolmes.

"Notintheleast."

The book showed that two names had been added after that of Baskerville. One was Theophilus

Johnsonandfamily,ofNewcastle;theotherMrs.Oldmoreandmaid,ofHighLodge,Alton.

"SurelythatmustbethesameJohnsonwhomIusedtoknow,"saidHolmestotheporter."Alawyer,

ishenot,gray-headed,andwalkswithalimp?"

"No,sir,thisisMr.Johnson,thecoal-owner,averyactivegentleman,notolderthanyourself."

"Surelyyouaremistakenabouthistrade?"

"No,sir!hehasusedthishotelformanyyears,andheisverywellknowntous."

"Ah,thatsettlesit.Mrs.Oldmore,too;Iseemtorememberthename.Excusemycuriosity,butoften

incallingupononefriendonefindsanother."

"Sheisaninvalidlady,sir.HerhusbandwasoncemayorofGloucester.Shealwayscomestouswhen

sheisintown."

"Thankyou;IamafraidIcannotclaimheracquaintance.Wehaveestablishedamostimportantfact

bythesequestions,Watson,"hecontinuedinalowvoiceaswewentupstairstogether."Weknownow
thatthepeoplewhoaresointerestedinourfriendhavenotsettleddowninhisownhotel.Thatmeans
thatwhiletheyare,aswehaveseen,veryanxioustowatchhim,theyareequallyanxiousthatheshould
notseethem.Now,thisisamostsuggestivefact."

"Whatdoesitsuggest?"

"Itsuggests—halloa,mydearfellow,whatonearthisthematter?"

AswecameroundthetopofthestairswehadrunupagainstSirHenryBaskervillehimself.Hisface

wasflushedwithanger,andheheldanoldanddustybootinoneofhishands.Sofuriouswashethathe
washardlyarticulate,andwhenhedidspeakitwasinamuchbroaderandmoreWesterndialectthan
anywhichwehadheardfromhiminthemorning.

"Seemstometheyareplayingmeforasuckerinthishotel,"hecried."They'llfindthey'vestartedin

tomonkeywiththewrongmanunlesstheyarecareful.Bythunder,ifthatchapcan'tfindmymissing
boot there will be trouble. I can take a joke with the best, Mr. Holmes, but they've got a bit over the
markthistime."

"Stilllookingforyourboot?"

"Yes,sir,andmeantofindit."

"But,surely,yousaidthatitwasanewbrownboot?"

"Soitwas,sir.Andnowit'sanoldblackone."

"What!youdon'tmeantosay—?"

"That'sjustwhatIdomeantosay.Ionlyhadthreepairsintheworld—thenewbrown,theoldblack,

andthepatentleathers,whichIamwearing.Lastnighttheytookoneofmybrownones,andtodaythey
havesneakedoneoftheblack.Well,haveyougotit?Speakout,man,anddon'tstandstaring!"

AnagitatedGermanwaiterhadappeareduponthescene.

"No,sir;Ihavemadeinquiryalloverthehotel,butIcanhearnowordofit."

"Well,eitherthatbootcomesbackbeforesundownorI'llseethemanagerandtellhimthatIgoright

straightoutofthishotel."

"Itshallbefound,sir—Ipromiseyouthatifyouwillhavealittlepatienceitwillbefound."

"Minditis,forit'sthelastthingofminethatI'llloseinthisdenofthieves.Well,well,Mr.Holmes,

you'llexcusemytroublingyouaboutsuchatrifle—"

"Ithinkit'swellworthtroublingabout."

"Why,youlookveryseriousoverit."

"Howdoyouexplainit?"

"I just don't attempt to explain it. It seems the very maddest, queerest thing that ever happened to

me."

"Thequeerestperhaps—"saidHolmesthoughtfully.

"Whatdoyoumakeofityourself?"

"Well,Idon'tprofesstounderstandityet.Thiscaseofyoursisverycomplex,SirHenry.Whentaken

in conjunction with your uncle's death I am not sure that of all the five hundred cases of capital
importancewhichIhavehandledthereisonewhichcutssodeep.Butweholdseveralthreadsinour
hands,andtheoddsarethatoneorotherofthemguidesustothetruth.Wemaywastetimeinfollowing
thewrongone,butsoonerorlaterwemustcomeupontheright."

Wehadapleasantluncheoninwhichlittlewassaidofthebusinesswhichhadbroughtustogether.It

was in the private sitting-room to which we afterwards repaired that Holmes asked Baskerville what
werehisintentions.

"TogotoBaskervilleHall."

"Andwhen?"

"Attheendoftheweek."

"Onthewhole,"saidHolmes,"Ithinkthatyourdecisionisawiseone.Ihaveampleevidencethat

youarebeingdoggedinLondon,andamidthemillionsofthisgreatcityitisdifficulttodiscoverwho
thesepeopleareorwhattheirobjectcanbe.Iftheirintentionsareeviltheymightdoyouamischief,
andweshouldbepowerlesstopreventit.Youdidnotknow,Dr.Mortimer,thatyouwerefollowedthis
morningfrommyhouse?"

Dr.Mortimerstartedviolently."Followed!Bywhom?"

"That,unfortunately,iswhatIcannottellyou.Haveyouamongyourneighboursoracquaintanceson

Dartmooranymanwithablack,fullbeard?"

"No—or,letmesee—why,yes.Barrymore,SirCharles'sbutler,isamanwithafull,blackbeard."

"Ha!WhereisBarrymore?"

"HeisinchargeoftheHall."

"Wehadbestascertainifheisreallythere,orifbyanypossibilityhemightbeinLondon."

"Howcanyoudothat?"

"Give me a telegraph form. 'Is all ready for Sir Henry?' That will do. Address to Mr. Barrymore,

BaskervilleHall.Whatisthenearesttelegraph-office?Grimpen.Verygood,wewillsendasecondwire
tothepostmaster,Grimpen:'TelegramtoMr.Barrymoretobedeliveredintohisownhand.Ifabsent,
please return wire to Sir Henry Baskerville, Northumberland Hotel.' That should let us know before
eveningwhetherBarrymoreisathispostinDevonshireornot."

"That'sso,"saidBaskerville."Bytheway,Dr.Mortimer,whoisthisBarrymore,anyhow?"

"Heisthesonoftheoldcaretaker,whoisdead.TheyhavelookedaftertheHallforfourgenerations

now.SofarasIknow,heandhiswifeareasrespectableacoupleasanyinthecounty."

"Atthesametime,"saidBaskerville,"it'sclearenoughthatsolongastherearenoneofthefamilyat

theHallthesepeoplehaveamightyfinehomeandnothingtodo."

"Thatistrue."

"DidBarrymoreprofitatallbySirCharles'swill?"askedHolmes.

"Heandhiswifehadfivehundredpoundseach."

"Ha!Didtheyknowthattheywouldreceivethis?"

"Yes;SirCharleswasveryfondoftalkingabouttheprovisionsofhiswill."

"Thatisveryinteresting."

"Ihope,"saidDr.Mortimer,"thatyoudonotlookwithsuspiciouseyesuponeveryonewhoreceived

alegacyfromSirCharles,forIalsohadathousandpoundslefttome."

"Indeed!Andanyoneelse?"

"There were many insignificant sums to individuals, and a large number of public charities. The

residueallwenttoSirHenry."

"Andhowmuchwastheresidue?"

"Sevenhundredandfortythousandpounds."

Holmesraisedhiseyebrowsinsurprise."Ihadnoideathatsogiganticasumwasinvolved,"saidhe.

"Sir Charles had the reputation of being rich, but we did not know how very rich he was until we

cametoexaminehissecurities.Thetotalvalueoftheestatewascloseontoamillion."

"Dearme!Itisastakeforwhichamanmightwellplayadesperategame.Andonemorequestion,

Dr. Mortimer. Supposing that anything happened to our young friend here—you will forgive the
unpleasanthypothesis!—whowouldinherittheestate?"

"SinceRodgerBaskerville,SirCharles'syoungerbrotherdiedunmarried,theestatewoulddescendto

theDesmonds,whoaredistantcousins.JamesDesmondisanelderlyclergymaninWestmoreland."

"Thankyou.Thesedetailsareallofgreatinterest.HaveyoumetMr.JamesDesmond?"

"Yes;heoncecamedowntovisitSirCharles.Heisamanofvenerableappearanceandofsaintlylife.

IrememberthatherefusedtoacceptanysettlementfromSirCharles,thoughhepressedituponhim."

"AndthismanofsimpletasteswouldbetheheirtoSirCharles'sthousands."

"Hewouldbetheheirtotheestatebecausethatisentailed.Hewouldalsobetheheirtothemoney

unlessitwerewilledotherwisebythepresentowner,whocan,ofcourse,dowhathelikeswithit."

"Andhaveyoumadeyourwill,SirHenry?"

"No,Mr.Holmes,Ihavenot.I'vehadnotime,foritwasonlyyesterdaythatIlearnedhowmatters

stood.ButinanycaseIfeelthatthemoneyshouldgowiththetitleandestate.Thatwasmypooruncle's

idea.HowistheownergoingtorestorethegloriesoftheBaskervillesifhehasnotmoneyenoughto
keepuptheproperty?House,land,anddollarsmustgotogether."

"Quiteso.Well,SirHenry,Iamofonemindwithyouastotheadvisabilityofyourgoingdownto

Devonshirewithoutdelay.ThereisonlyoneprovisionwhichImustmake.Youcertainlymustnotgo
alone."

"Dr.Mortimerreturnswithme."

"ButDr.Mortimerhashispracticetoattendto,andhishouseismilesawayfromyours.Withallthe

goodwillintheworldhemaybeunabletohelpyou.No,SirHenry,youmusttakewithyousomeone,a
trustyman,whowillbealwaysbyyourside."

"Isitpossiblethatyoucouldcomeyourself,Mr.Holmes?"

"IfmatterscametoacrisisIshouldendeavourtobepresentinperson;butyoucanunderstandthat,

with my extensive consulting practice and with the constant appeals which reach me from many
quarters,itisimpossibleformetobeabsentfromLondonforanindefinitetime.Atthepresentinstant
oneofthemostreverednamesinEnglandisbeingbesmirchedbyablackmailer,andonlyIcanstopa
disastrousscandal.YouwillseehowimpossibleitisformetogotoDartmoor."

"Whomwouldyourecommend,then?"

Holmeslaidhishanduponmyarm."Ifmyfriendwouldundertakeitthereisnomanwhoisbetter

worthhavingatyoursidewhenyouareinatightplace.NoonecansaysomoreconfidentlythanI."

Thepropositiontookmecompletelybysurprise,butbeforeIhadtimetoanswer,Baskervilleseized

mebythehandandwrungitheartily.

"Well,now,thatisrealkindofyou,Dr.Watson,"saidhe."Youseehowitiswithme,andyouknow

justasmuchaboutthematterasIdo.IfyouwillcomedowntoBaskervilleHallandseemethroughI'll
neverforgetit."

Thepromiseofadventurehadalwaysafascinationforme,andIwascomplimentedbythewordsof

Holmesandbytheeagernesswithwhichthebaronethailedmeasacompanion.

"Iwillcome,withpleasure,"saidI."IdonotknowhowIcouldemploymytimebetter."

"Andyouwillreportverycarefullytome,"saidHolmes."Whenacrisiscomes,asitwilldo,Iwill

directhowyoushallact.IsupposethatbySaturdayallmightbeready?"

"WouldthatsuitDr.Watson?"

"Perfectly."

"Then on Saturday, unless you hear to the contrary, we shall meet at the ten-thirty train from

Paddington."

WehadrisentodepartwhenBaskervillegaveacry,oftriumph,anddivingintooneofthecornersof

theroomhedrewabrownbootfromunderacabinet.

"Mymissingboot!"hecried.

"Mayallourdifficultiesvanishaseasily!"saidSherlockHolmes.

"But it is a very singular thing," Dr. Mortimer remarked. "I searched this room carefully before

lunch."

"AndsodidI,"saidBaskerville."Everyinchofit."

"Therewascertainlynobootinitthen."

"Inthatcasethewaitermusthaveplacedittherewhilewewerelunching."

TheGermanwassentforbutprofessedtoknownothingofthematter,norcouldanyinquiryclearit

up.Anotheritemhadbeenaddedtothatconstantandapparentlypurposelessseriesofsmallmysteries
whichhadsucceededeachothersorapidly.SettingasidethewholegrimstoryofSirCharles'sdeath,we
hadalineofinexplicableincidentsallwithinthelimitsoftwodays,whichincludedthereceiptofthe
printedletter,theblack-beardedspyinthehansom,thelossofthenewbrownboot,thelossoftheold
black boot, and now the return of the new brown boot. Holmes sat in silence in the cab as we drove
backtoBakerStreet,andIknewfromhisdrawnbrowsandkeenfacethathismind,likemyown,was
busyinendeavouringtoframesomeschemeintowhichallthesestrangeandapparentlydisconnected
episodescouldbefitted.Allafternoonandlateintotheeveninghesatlostintobaccoandthought.

Justbeforedinnertwotelegramswerehandedin.Thefirstran:

HavejustheardthatBarrymoreisattheHall.BASKERVILLE.

Thesecond:

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

everythinggoesagainstyou.Wemustcastroundforanotherscent."

"Wehavestillthecabmanwhodrovethespy."

"Exactly. I have wired to get his name and address from the Official Registry. I should not be

surprisedifthiswereananswertomyquestion."

Theringatthebellprovedtobesomethingevenmoresatisfactorythanananswer,however,forthe

dooropenedandarough-lookingfellowenteredwhowasevidentlythemanhimself.

"IgotamessagefromtheheadofficethatagentatthisaddresshadbeeninquiringforNo.2704,"

saidhe."I'vedrivenmycabthissevenyearsandneverawordofcomplaint.Icameherestraightfrom
theYardtoaskyoutoyourfacewhatyouhadagainstme."

"Ihavenothingintheworldagainstyou,mygoodman,"saidHolmes."Onthecontrary,Ihavehalfa

sovereignforyouifyouwillgivemeaclearanswertomyquestions."

"Well,I'vehadagooddayandnomistake,"saidthecabmanwithagrin."Whatwasityouwantedto

ask,sir?"

"Firstofallyournameandaddress,incaseIwantyouagain."

"JohnClayton,3TurpeyStreet,theBorough.MycabisoutofShipley'sYard,nearWaterlooStation."

SherlockHolmesmadeanoteofit.

"Now, Clayton, tell me all about the fare who came and watched this house at ten o'clock this

morningandafterwardsfollowedthetwogentlemendownRegentStreet."

Themanlookedsurprisedandalittleembarrassed."Why,there'snogoodmytellingyouthings,for

youseemtoknowasmuchasIdoalready,"saidhe."Thetruthisthatthegentlemantoldmethathewas
adetectiveandthatIwastosaynothingabouthimtoanyone."

"Mygoodfellow;thisisaveryseriousbusiness,andyoumayfindyourselfinaprettybadpositionif

youtrytohideanythingfromme.Yousaythatyourfaretoldyouthathewasadetective?"

"Yes,hedid."

"Whendidhesaythis?"

"Whenheleftme."

"Didhesayanythingmore?"

"Hementionedhisname."

Holmes cast a swift glance of triumph at me. "Oh, he mentioned his name, did he? That was

imprudent.Whatwasthenamethathementioned?"

"Hisname,"saidthecabman,"wasMr.SherlockHolmes."

NeverhaveIseenmyfriendmorecompletelytakenabackthanbythecabman'sreply.Foraninstant

hesatinsilentamazement.Thenheburstintoaheartylaugh.

"Atouch,Watson—anundeniabletouch!"saidhe."Ifeelafoilasquickandsuppleasmyown.He

gothomeuponmeveryprettilythattime.SohisnamewasSherlockHolmes,wasit?"

"Yes,sir,thatwasthegentleman'sname."

"Excellent!Tellmewhereyoupickedhimupandallthatoccurred."

"Hehailedmeathalf-pastnineinTrafalgarSquare.Hesaidthathewasadetective,andheoffered

metwoguineasifIwoulddoexactlywhathewantedalldayandasknoquestions.Iwasgladenoughto
agree.FirstwedrovedowntotheNorthumberlandHotelandwaitedthereuntiltwogentlemencameout
andtookacabfromtherank.Wefollowedtheircabuntilitpulledupsomewherenearhere."

"Thisverydoor,"saidHolmes.

"Well,Icouldn'tbesureofthat,butIdaresaymyfareknewallaboutit.Wepulleduphalfwaydown

thestreetandwaitedanhourandahalf.Thenthetwogentlemenpassedus,walking,andwefollowed
downBakerStreetandalong—"

"Iknow,"saidHolmes.

"Untilwegotthree-quartersdownRegentStreet.Thenmygentlemanthrewupthetrap,andhecried

thatIshoulddriverightawaytoWaterlooStationashardasIcouldgo.Iwhippedupthemareandwe
werethereunderthetenminutes.Thenhepaiduphistwoguineas,likeagoodone,andawayhewent
intothestation.Onlyjustashewasleavingheturnedroundandhesaid:'Itmightinterestyoutoknow
thatyouhavebeendrivingMr.SherlockHolmes.'That'showIcometoknowthename."

"Isee.Andyousawnomoreofhim?"

"Notafterhewentintothestation."

"AndhowwouldyoudescribeMr.SherlockHolmes?"

Thecabmanscratchedhishead."Well,hewasn'taltogethersuchaneasygentlemantodescribe.I'd

puthimatfortyyearsofage,andhewasofamiddleheight,twoorthreeinchesshorterthanyou,sir.
Hewasdressedlikeatoff,andhehadablackbeard,cutsquareattheend,andapaleface.Idon'tknow
asIcouldsaymorethanthat."

"Colourofhiseyes?"

"No,Ican'tsaythat."

"Nothingmorethatyoucanremember?"

"No,sir;nothing."

"Well, then, here is your half-sovereign. There's another one waiting for you if you can bring any

moreinformation.Good-night!"

"Good-night,sir,andthankyou!"

JohnClaytondepartedchuckling,andHolmesturnedtomewithashrugofhisshouldersandarueful

smile.

"Snapgoesourthirdthread,andweendwherewebegan,"saidhe."Thecunningrascal!Heknewour

number, knew that Sir Henry Baskerville had consulted me, spotted who I was in Regent Street,
conjecturedthatIhadgotthenumberofthecabandwouldlaymyhandsonthedriver,andsosentback

thisaudaciousmessage.Itellyou,Watson,thistimewehavegotafoemanwhoisworthyofoursteel.
I'vebeencheckmatedinLondon.IcanonlywishyoubetterluckinDevonshire.ButI'mnoteasyinmy
mindaboutit."

"Aboutwhat?"

"Aboutsendingyou.It'sanuglybusiness,Watson,anuglydangerousbusiness,andthemoreIseeof

itthelessIlikeit.Yes,mydearfellow,youmaylaugh,butIgiveyoumywordthatIshallbeveryglad
tohaveyoubacksafeandsoundinBakerStreetoncemore."

Chapter6.BaskervilleHall

Sir Henry Baskerville and Dr. Mortimer were ready upon the appointed day, and we started as

arrangedforDevonshire.Mr.SherlockHolmesdrovewithmetothestationandgavemehislastparting
injunctionsandadvice.

"Iwillnotbiasyourmindbysuggestingtheoriesorsuspicions,Watson,"saidhe;"Iwishyousimply

toreportfactsinthefullestpossiblemannertome,andyoucanleavemetodothetheorizing."

"Whatsortoffacts?"Iasked.

"Anything which may seem to have a bearing however indirect upon the case, and especially the

relationsbetweenyoungBaskervilleandhisneighboursoranyfreshparticularsconcerningthedeathof
SirCharles.Ihavemadesomeinquiriesmyselfinthelastfewdays,buttheresultshave,Ifear,been
negative.Onethingonlyappearstobecertain,andthatisthatMr.JamesDesmond,whoisthenextheir,
isanelderlygentlemanofaveryamiabledisposition,sothatthispersecutiondoesnotarisefromhim.I
reallythinkthatwemayeliminatehimentirelyfromourcalculations.Thereremainthepeoplewhowill
actuallysurroundSirHenryBaskervilleuponthemoor."

"WoulditnotbewellinthefirstplacetogetridofthisBarrymorecouple?"

"By no means. You could not make a greater mistake. If they are innocent it would be a cruel

injustice,andiftheyareguiltyweshouldbegivingupallchanceofbringingithometothem.No,no,
wewillpreservethemuponourlistofsuspects.ThenthereisagroomattheHall,ifIrememberright.
Therearetwomoorlandfarmers.ThereisourfriendDr.Mortimer,whomIbelievetobeentirelyhonest,
and there is his wife, of whom we know nothing. There is this naturalist, Stapleton, and there is his
sister,whoissaidtobeayoungladyofattractions.ThereisMr.Frankland,ofLafterHall,whoisalso
anunknownfactor,andthereareoneortwootherneighbours.Thesearethefolkwhomustbeyourvery
specialstudy."

"Iwilldomybest."

"Youhavearms,Isuppose?"

"Yes,Ithoughtitaswelltotakethem."

"Mostcertainly.Keepyourrevolvernearyounightandday,andneverrelaxyourprecautions."

Ourfriendshadalreadysecuredafirst-classcarriageandwerewaitingforusupontheplatform.

"No, we have no news of any kind," said Dr. Mortimer in answer to my friend's questions. "I can

sweartoonething,andthatisthatwehavenotbeenshadowedduringthelasttwodays.Wehavenever
goneoutwithoutkeepingasharpwatch,andnoonecouldhaveescapedournotice."

"Youhavealwayskepttogether,Ipresume?"

"Exceptyesterdayafternoon.IusuallygiveuponedaytopureamusementwhenIcometotown,soI

spentitattheMuseumoftheCollegeofSurgeons."

"AndIwenttolookatthefolkinthepark,"saidBaskerville.

"Butwehadnotroubleofanykind."

"Itwasimprudent,allthesame,"saidHolmes,shakinghisheadandlookingverygrave."Ibeg,Sir

Henry,thatyouwillnotgoaboutalone.Somegreatmisfortunewillbefallyouifyoudo.Didyouget
yourotherboot?"

"No,sir,itisgoneforever."

"Indeed. That is very interesting. Well, good-bye," he added as the train began to glide down the

platform."Bearinmind,SirHenry,oneofthephrasesinthatqueeroldlegendwhichDr.Mortimerhas
readtous,andavoidthemoorinthosehoursofdarknesswhenthepowersofevilareexalted."

Ilookedbackattheplatformwhenwehadleftitfarbehindandsawthetall,austerefigureofHolmes

standingmotionlessandgazingafterus.

Thejourneywasaswiftandpleasantone,andIspentitinmakingthemoreintimateacquaintanceof

my two companions and in playing with Dr. Mortimer's spaniel. In a very few hours the brown earth
hadbecomeruddy,thebrickhadchangedtogranite,andredcowsgrazedinwell-hedgedfieldswhere
the lush grasses and more luxuriant vegetation spoke of a richer, if a damper, climate. Young
Baskervillestaredeagerlyoutofthewindowandcriedaloudwithdelightasherecognizedthefamiliar
featuresoftheDevonscenery.

"I'vebeenoveragoodpartoftheworldsinceIleftit,Dr.Watson,"saidhe;"butIhaveneverseena

placetocomparewithit."

"IneversawaDevonshiremanwhodidnotswearbyhiscounty,"Iremarked.

"Itdependsuponthebreedofmenquiteasmuchasonthecounty,"saidDr.Mortimer."Aglanceat

ourfriendhererevealstheroundedheadoftheCelt,whichcarriesinsideittheCelticenthusiasmand
powerofattachment.PoorSirCharles'sheadwasofaveryraretype,halfGaelic,halfIvernianinits
characteristics.ButyouwereveryyoungwhenyoulastsawBaskervilleHall,wereyounot?"

"Iwasaboyinmyteensatthetimeofmyfather'sdeathandhadneverseentheHall,forhelivedina

littlecottageontheSouthCoast.ThenceIwentstraighttoafriendinAmerica.Itellyouitisallasnew
tomeasitistoDr.Watson,andI'maskeenaspossibletoseethemoor."

"Are you? Then your wish is easily granted, for there is your first sight of the moor," said Dr.

Mortimer,pointingoutofthecarriagewindow.

Over the green squares of the fields and the low curve of a wood there rose in the distance a gray,

melancholy hill, with a strange jagged summit, dim and vague in the distance, like some fantastic
landscapeinadream.Baskervillesatforalongtime,hiseyesfixeduponit,andIreaduponhiseager
facehowmuchitmeanttohim,thisfirstsightofthatstrangespotwherethemenofhisbloodhadheld
swaysolongandlefttheirmarksodeep.Therehesat,withhistweedsuitandhisAmericanaccent,in
thecornerofaprosaicrailway-carriage,andyetasIlookedathisdarkandexpressivefaceIfeltmore
than ever how true a descendant he was of that long line of high-blooded, fiery, and masterful men.
Therewerepride,valour,andstrengthinhisthickbrows,hissensitivenostrils,andhislargehazeleyes.
If on that forbidding moor a difficult and dangerous quest should lie before us, this was at least a
comradeforwhomonemightventuretotakeariskwiththecertaintythathewouldbravelyshareit.

Thetrainpulledupatasmallwaysidestationandwealldescended.Outside,beyondthelow,white

fence,awagonettewithapairofcobswaswaiting.Ourcomingwasevidentlyagreatevent,forstation-
masterandportersclusteredroundustocarryoutourluggage.Itwasasweet,simplecountryspot,butI
was surprised to observe that by the gate there stood two soldierly men in dark uniforms who leaned
upontheirshortriflesandglancedkeenlyatusaswepassed.Thecoachman,ahard-faced,gnarledlittle
fellow, saluted Sir Henry Baskerville, and in a few minutes we were flying swiftly down the broad,
whiteroad.Rollingpasturelandscurvedupwardoneithersideofus,andoldgabledhousespeepedout
fromamidthethickgreenfoliage,butbehindthepeacefulandsunlitcountrysidethereroseever,dark
againsttheeveningsky,thelong,gloomycurveofthemoor,brokenbythejaggedandsinisterhills.

The wagonette swung round into a side road, and we curved upward through deep lanes worn by

centuriesofwheels,highbanksoneitherside,heavywithdrippingmossandfleshyhart's-tongueferns.
Bronzingbrackenandmottledbramblegleamedinthelightofthesinkingsun.Stillsteadilyrising,we

passedoveranarrowgranitebridgeandskirtedanoisystreamwhichgushedswiftlydown,foamingand
roaringamidthegrayboulders.Bothroadandstreamwoundupthroughavalleydensewithscruboak
andfir.AteveryturnBaskervillegaveanexclamationofdelight,lookingeagerlyabouthimandasking
countless questions. To his eyes all seemed beautiful, but to me a tinge of melancholy lay upon the
countryside,whichboresoclearlythemarkofthewaningyear.Yellowleavescarpetedthelanesand
fluttereddownuponusaswepassed.Therattleofourwheelsdiedawayaswedrovethroughdriftsof
rottingvegetation—sadgifts,asitseemedtome,forNaturetothrowbeforethecarriageofthereturning
heiroftheBaskervilles.

"Halloa!"criedDr.Mortimer,"whatisthis?"

Asteepcurveofheath-cladland,anoutlyingspurofthemoor,layinfrontofus.Onthesummit,hard

and clear like an equestrian statue upon its pedestal, was a mounted soldier, dark and stern, his rifle
poisedreadyoverhisforearm.Hewaswatchingtheroadalongwhichwetravelled.

"Whatisthis,Perkins?"askedDr.Mortimer.

Ourdriverhalfturnedinhisseat."There'saconvictescapedfromPrincetown,sir.He'sbeenoutthree

daysnow,andthewarderswatcheveryroadandeverystation,butthey'vehadnosightofhimyet.The
farmersaboutheredon'tlikeit,sir,andthat'safact."

"Well,Iunderstandthattheygetfivepoundsiftheycangiveinformation."

"Yes, sir, but the chance of five pounds is but a poor thing compared to the chance of having your

throatcut.Yousee,itisn'tlikeanyordinaryconvict.Thisisamanthatwouldstickatnothing."

"Whoishe,then?"

"ItisSelden,theNottingHillmurderer."

Irememberedthecasewell,foritwasoneinwhichHolmeshadtakenaninterestonaccountofthe

peculiarferocityofthecrimeandthewantonbrutalitywhichhadmarkedalltheactionsoftheassassin.
The commutation of his death sentence had been due to some doubts as to his complete sanity, so
atrociouswashisconduct.Ourwagonettehadtoppedariseandinfrontofusrosethehugeexpanseof
themoor,mottledwithgnarledandcraggycairnsandtors.Acoldwindsweptdownfromitandsetus
shivering.Somewherethere,onthatdesolateplain,waslurkingthisfiendishman,hidinginaburrow
likeawildbeast,hisheartfullofmalignancyagainstthewholeracewhichhadcasthimout.Itneeded
butthistocompletethegrimsuggestivenessofthebarrenwaste,thechillingwind,andthedarklingsky.
EvenBaskervillefellsilentandpulledhisovercoatmorecloselyaroundhim.

Wehadleftthefertilecountrybehindandbeneathus.Welookedbackonitnow,theslantingraysof

alowsunturningthestreamstothreadsofgoldandglowingontheredearthnewturnedbytheplough
andthebroadtangleofthewoodlands.Theroadinfrontofusgrewbleakerandwilderoverhugerusset
and olive slopes, sprinkled with giant boulders. Now and then we passed a moorland cottage, walled
and roofed with stone, with no creeper to break its harsh outline. Suddenly we looked down into a
cuplikedepression,patchedwithstuntedoaksandfirswhichhadbeentwistedandbentbythefuryof
yearsofstorm.Twohigh,narrowtowersroseoverthetrees.Thedriverpointedwithhiswhip.

"BaskervilleHall,"saidhe.

Its master had risen and was staring with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. A few minutes later we

hadreachedthelodge-gates,amazeoffantastictraceryinwroughtiron,withweather-bittenpillarson
either side, blotched with lichens, and surmounted by the boars' heads of the Baskervilles. The lodge
wasaruinofblackgraniteandbaredribsofrafters,butfacingitwasanewbuilding,halfconstructed,
thefirstfruitofSirCharles'sSouthAfricangold.

Through the gateway we passed into the avenue, where the wheels were again hushed amid the

leaves,andtheoldtreesshottheirbranchesinasombretunneloverourheads.Baskervilleshudderedas
helookedupthelong,darkdrivetowherethehouseglimmeredlikeaghostatthefartherend.

"Wasithere?"heaskedinalowvoice.

"No,no,theyewalleyisontheotherside."

Theyoungheirglancedroundwithagloomyface.

"It'snowondermyunclefeltasiftroublewerecomingonhiminsuchaplaceasthis,"saidhe."It's

enoughtoscareanyman.I'llhavearowofelectriclampsuphereinsideofsixmonths,andyouwon't
knowitagain,withathousandcandle-powerSwanandEdisonrighthereinfrontofthehalldoor."

The avenue opened into a broad expanse of turf, and the house lay before us. In the fading light I

couldseethatthecentrewasaheavyblockofbuildingfromwhichaporchprojected.Thewholefront
was draped in ivy, with a patch clipped bare here and there where a window or a coat of arms broke
throughthedarkveil.Fromthiscentralblockrosethetwintowers,ancient,crenelated,andpiercedwith
manyloopholes.Torightandleftoftheturretsweremoremodernwingsofblackgranite.Adulllight
shonethroughheavymullionedwindows,andfromthehighchimneyswhichrosefromthesteep,high-
angledrooftheresprangasingleblackcolumnofsmoke.

"Welcome,SirHenry!WelcometoBaskervilleHall!"

Atallmanhadsteppedfromtheshadowoftheporchtoopenthedoorofthewagonette.Thefigureof

awomanwassilhouettedagainsttheyellowlightofthehall.Shecameoutandhelpedthemantohand
downourbags.

"You don't mind my driving straight home, Sir Henry?" said Dr. Mortimer. "My wife is expecting

me."

"Surelyyouwillstayandhavesomedinner?"

"No, I must go. I shall probably find some work awaiting me. I would stay to show you over the

house,butBarrymorewillbeabetterguidethanI.Good-bye,andneverhesitatenightordaytosendfor
meifIcanbeofservice."

ThewheelsdiedawaydownthedrivewhileSirHenryandIturnedintothehall,andthedoorclanged

heavilybehindus.Itwasafineapartmentinwhichwefoundourselves,large,lofty,andheavilyraftered
withhugebaulksofage-blackenedoak.Inthegreatold-fashionedfireplacebehindthehighirondogsa
log-firecrackledandsnapped.SirHenryandIheldoutourhandstoit,forwewerenumbfromourlong
drive.Thenwegazedroundusatthehigh,thinwindowofoldstainedglass,theoakpanelling,thestags'
heads,thecoatsofarmsuponthewalls,alldimandsombreinthesubduedlightofthecentrallamp.

"It'sjustasIimaginedit,"saidSirHenry."Isitnottheverypictureofanoldfamilyhome?Tothink

that this should be the same hall in which for five hundred years my people have lived. It strikes me
solemntothinkofit."

Isawhisdarkfacelitupwithaboyishenthusiasmashegazedabouthim.Thelightbeatuponhim

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
squareblackbeardandpale,distinguishedfeatures.

"Wouldyouwishdinnertobeservedatonce,sir?"

"Isitready?"

"Inaveryfewminutes,sir.Youwillfindhotwaterinyourrooms.MywifeandIwillbehappy,Sir

Henry, to stay with you until you have made your fresh arrangements, but you will understand that

underthenewconditionsthishousewillrequireaconsiderablestaff."

"Whatnewconditions?"

"Ionlymeant,sir,thatSirCharlesledaveryretiredlife,andwewereabletolookafterhiswants.

Youwould,naturally,wishtohavemorecompany,andsoyouwillneedchangesinyourhousehold."

"Doyoumeanthatyourwifeandyouwishtoleave?"

"Onlywhenitisquiteconvenienttoyou,sir."

"Butyourfamilyhavebeenwithusforseveralgenerations,havetheynot?Ishouldbesorrytobegin

mylifeherebybreakinganoldfamilyconnection."

Iseemedtodiscernsomesignsofemotionuponthebutler'swhiteface.

"Ifeelthatalso,sir,andsodoesmywife.Buttotellthetruth,sir,wewerebothverymuchattached

toSirCharles,andhisdeathgaveusashockandmadethesesurroundingsverypainfultous.Ifearthat
weshallneveragainbeeasyinourmindsatBaskervilleHall."

"Butwhatdoyouintendtodo?"

"Ihavenodoubt,sir,thatweshallsucceedinestablishingourselvesinsomebusiness.SirCharles's

generosityhasgivenusthemeanstodoso.Andnow,sir,perhapsIhadbestshowyoutoyourrooms."

Asquarebalustradedgalleryranroundthetopoftheoldhall,approachedbyadoublestair.Fromthis

centralpointtwolongcorridorsextendedthewholelengthofthebuilding,fromwhichallthebedrooms
opened. My own was in the same wing as Baskerville's and almost next door to it. These rooms
appearedtobemuchmoremodernthanthecentralpartofthehouse,andthebrightpaperandnumerous
candlesdidsomethingtoremovethesombreimpressionwhichourarrivalhadleftuponmymind.

Butthedining-roomwhichopenedoutofthehallwasaplaceofshadowandgloom.Itwasalong

chamberwithastepseparatingthedaiswherethefamilysatfromthelowerportionreservedfortheir
dependents. At one end a minstrel's gallery overlooked it. Black beams shot across above our heads,
withasmoke-darkenedceilingbeyondthem.Withrowsofflaringtorchestolightitup,andthecolour
and rude hilarity of an old-time banquet, it might have softened; but now, when two black-clothed
gentlemensatinthelittlecircleoflightthrownbyashadedlamp,one'svoicebecamehushedandone's
spirit subdued. A dim line of ancestors, in every variety of dress, from the Elizabethan knight to the
buckoftheRegency,stareddownuponusanddauntedusbytheirsilentcompany.Wetalkedlittle,and
Iforonewasgladwhenthemealwasoverandwewereabletoretireintothemodernbilliard-roomand
smokeacigarette.

"Myword,itisn'taverycheerfulplace,"saidSirHenry."Isupposeonecantonedowntoit,butIfeel

abitoutofthepictureatpresent.Idon'twonderthatmyunclegotalittlejumpyifhelivedallalonein
suchahouseasthis.However,ifitsuitsyou,wewillretireearlytonight,andperhapsthingsmayseem
morecheerfulinthemorning."

IdrewasidemycurtainsbeforeIwenttobedandlookedoutfrommywindow.Itopeneduponthe

grassyspacewhichlayinfrontofthehalldoor.Beyond,twocopsesoftreesmoanedandswungina
risingwind.Ahalfmoonbrokethroughtheriftsofracingclouds.InitscoldlightIsawbeyondthetrees
abrokenfringeofrocks,andthelong,lowcurveofthemelancholymoor.Iclosedthecurtain,feeling
thatmylastimpressionwasinkeepingwiththerest.

Andyetitwasnotquitethelast.Ifoundmyselfwearyandyetwakeful,tossingrestlesslyfromsideto

side,seekingforthesleepwhichwouldnotcome.Farawayachimingclockstruckoutthequartersof
thehours,butotherwiseadeathlysilencelayupontheoldhouse.Andthensuddenly,intheverydead
of the night, there came a sound to my ears, clear, resonant, and unmistakable. It was the sob of a
woman,themuffled,stranglinggaspofonewhoistornbyanuncontrollablesorrow.Isatupinbedand

listened intently. The noise could not have been far away and was certainly in the house. For half an
hourIwaitedwitheverynerveonthealert,buttherecamenoothersoundsavethechimingclockand
therustleoftheivyonthewall.

Chapter7.TheStapletonsofMerripitHouse

Thefreshbeautyofthefollowingmorningdidsomethingtoeffacefromourmindsthegrimandgray

impression which had been left upon both of us by our first experience of Baskerville Hall. As Sir
Henry and I sat at breakfast the sunlight flooded in through the high mullioned windows, throwing
waterypatchesofcolourfromthecoatsofarmswhichcoveredthem.Thedarkpanellingglowedlike
bronzeinthegoldenrays,anditwashardtorealizethatthiswasindeedthechamberwhichhadstruck
suchagloomintooursoulsupontheeveningbefore.

"Iguessitisourselvesandnotthehousethatwehavetoblame!"saidthebaronet."Weweretired

withourjourneyandchilledbyourdrive,sowetookagrayviewoftheplace.Nowwearefreshand
well,soitisallcheerfuloncemore."

"Andyetitwasnotentirelyaquestionofimagination,"Ianswered."Didyou,forexample,happento

hearsomeone,awomanIthink,sobbinginthenight?"

"Thatiscurious,forIdidwhenIwashalfasleepfancythatIheardsomethingofthesort.Iwaited

quiteatime,buttherewasnomoreofit,soIconcludedthatitwasalladream."

"Ihearditdistinctly,andIamsurethatitwasreallythesobofawoman."

"Wemustaskaboutthisrightaway."HerangthebellandaskedBarrymorewhetherhecouldaccount

forourexperience.Itseemedtomethatthepallidfeaturesofthebutlerturnedashadepalerstillashe
listenedtohismaster'squestion.

"Thereareonlytwowomeninthehouse,SirHenry,"heanswered."Oneisthescullery-maid,who

sleeps in the other wing. The other is my wife, and I can answer for it that the sound could not have
comefromher."

And yet he lied as he said it, for it chanced that after breakfast I met Mrs. Barrymore in the long

corridorwiththesunfulluponherface.Shewasalarge,impassive,heavy-featuredwomanwithastern
setexpressionofmouth.Buthertelltaleeyeswereredandglancedatmefrombetweenswollenlids.It
wasshe,then,whoweptinthenight,andifshedidsoherhusbandmustknowit.Yethehadtakenthe
obviousriskofdiscoveryindeclaringthatitwasnotso.Whyhadhedonethis?Andwhydidsheweep
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,andwehadonlyhiswordforallthecircumstanceswhichleduptotheoldman'sdeath.Wasit
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 somewhat shorter man, but such an
impressionmighteasilyhavebeenerroneous.HowcouldIsettlethepointforever?Obviouslythefirst
thingtodowastoseetheGrimpenpostmasterandfindwhetherthetesttelegramhadreallybeenplaced
inBarrymore'sownhands.Betheanswerwhatitmight,Ishouldatleasthavesomethingtoreportto
SherlockHolmes.

Sir Henry had numerous papers to examine after breakfast, so that the time was propitious for my

excursion.Itwasapleasantwalkoffourmilesalongtheedgeofthemoor,leadingmeatlasttoasmall
grayhamlet,inwhichtwolargerbuildings,whichprovedtobetheinnandthehouseofDr.Mortimer,
stoodhighabovetherest.Thepostmaster,whowasalsothevillagegrocer,hadaclearrecollectionof
thetelegram.

"Certainly,sir,"saidhe,"IhadthetelegramdeliveredtoMr.Barrymoreexactlyasdirected."

"Whodeliveredit?"

"My boy here. James, you delivered that telegram to Mr. Barrymore at the Hall last week, did you

not?"

"Yes,father,Ideliveredit."

"Intohisownhands?"Iasked.

"Well,hewasupintheloftatthetime,sothatIcouldnotputitintohisownhands,butIgaveitinto

Mrs.Barrymore'shands,andshepromisedtodeliveritatonce."

"DidyouseeMr.Barrymore?"

"No,sir;Itellyouhewasintheloft."

"Ifyoudidn'tseehim,howdoyouknowhewasintheloft?"

"Well,surelyhisownwifeoughttoknowwhereheis,"saidthepostmastertestily."Didn'thegetthe

telegram?IfthereisanymistakeitisforMr.Barrymorehimselftocomplain."

Itseemedhopelesstopursuetheinquiryanyfarther,butitwasclearthatinspiteofHolmes'srusewe

hadnoproofthatBarrymorehadnotbeeninLondonallthetime.Supposethatitwereso—supposethat
thesamemanhadbeenthelastwhohadseenSirCharlesalive,andthefirsttodogthenewheirwhen
he returned to England. What then? Was he the agent of others or had he some sinister design of his
own? What interest could he have in persecuting the Baskerville family? I thought of the strange
warningclippedoutoftheleadingarticleoftheTimes.Wasthathisworkorwasitpossiblythedoingof
someonewhowasbentuponcounteractinghisschemes?Theonlyconceivablemotivewasthatwhich
hadbeensuggestedbySirHenry,thatifthefamilycouldbescaredawayacomfortableandpermanent
home would be secured for the Barrymores. But surely such an explanation as that would be quite
inadequatetoaccountforthedeepandsubtleschemingwhichseemedtobeweavinganinvisiblenet
roundtheyoungbaronet.Holmeshimselfhadsaidthatnomorecomplexcasehadcometohiminall
thelongseriesofhissensationalinvestigations.Iprayed,asIwalkedbackalongthegray,lonelyroad,
thatmyfriendmightsoonbefreedfromhispreoccupationsandabletocomedowntotakethisheavy
burdenofresponsibilityfrommyshoulders.

Suddenlymythoughtswereinterruptedbythesoundofrunningfeetbehindmeandbyavoicewhich

calledmebyname.Iturned,expectingtoseeDr.Mortimer,buttomysurpriseitwasastrangerwho
was pursuing me. He was a small, slim, clean-shaven, prim-faced man, flaxen-haired and leanjawed,
between thirty and forty years of age, dressed in a gray suit and wearing a straw hat. A tin box for
botanicalspecimenshungoverhisshoulderandhecarriedagreenbutterfly-netinoneofhishands.

"Youwill,Iamsure,excusemypresumption,Dr.Watson,"saidheashecamepantinguptowhereI

stood. "Here on the moor we are homely folk and do not wait for formal introductions. You may
possiblyhaveheardmynamefromourmutualfriend,Mortimer.IamStapleton,ofMerripitHouse."

"Your net and box would have told me as much," said I, "for I knew that Mr. Stapleton was a

naturalist.Buthowdidyouknowme?"

"IhavebeencallingonMortimer,andhepointedyououttomefromthewindowofhissurgeryas

youpassed.AsourroadlaythesamewayIthoughtthatIwouldovertakeyouandintroducemyself.I
trustthatSirHenryisnonetheworseforhisjourney?"

"Heisverywell,thankyou."

"WewereallratherafraidthatafterthesaddeathofSirCharlesthenewbaronetmightrefusetolive

here.Itisaskingmuchofawealthymantocomedownandburyhimselfinaplaceofthiskind,butI
need not tell you that it means a very great deal to the countryside. Sir Henry has, I suppose, no
superstitiousfearsinthematter?"

"Idonotthinkthatitislikely."

"Ofcourseyouknowthelegendofthefienddogwhichhauntsthefamily?"

"Ihaveheardit."

"It is extraordinary how credulous the peasants are about here! Any number of them are ready to

swearthattheyhaveseensuchacreatureuponthemoor."Hespokewithasmile,butIseemedtoread
inhiseyesthathetookthemattermoreseriously."Thestorytookagreatholdupontheimaginationof
SirCharles,andIhavenodoubtthatitledtohistragicend."

"Buthow?"

"Hisnervesweresoworkedupthattheappearanceofanydogmighthavehadafataleffectuponhis

diseasedheart.Ifancythathereallydidseesomethingofthekinduponthatlastnightintheyewalley.I
fearedthatsomedisastermightoccur,forIwasveryfondoftheoldman,andIknewthathisheartwas
weak."

"Howdidyouknowthat?"

"MyfriendMortimertoldme."

"Youthink,then,thatsomedogpursuedSirCharles,andthathediedoffrightinconsequence?"

"Haveyouanybetterexplanation?"

"Ihavenotcometoanyconclusion."

"HasMr.SherlockHolmes?"

Thewordstookawaymybreathforaninstantbutaglanceattheplacidfaceandsteadfasteyesofmy

companionshowedthatnosurprisewasintended.

"Itisuselessforustopretendthatwedonotknowyou,Dr.Watson,"saidhe."Therecordsofyour

detectivehavereachedushere,andyoucouldnotcelebratehimwithoutbeingknownyourself.When
Mortimertoldmeyournamehecouldnotdenyyouridentity.Ifyouarehere,thenitfollowsthatMr.
SherlockHolmesisinterestinghimselfinthematter,andIamnaturallycurioustoknowwhatviewhe
maytake."

"IamafraidthatIcannotanswerthatquestion."

"MayIaskifheisgoingtohonouruswithavisithimself?"

"Hecannotleavetownatpresent.Hehasothercaseswhichengagehisattention."

"What a pity! He might throw some light on that which is so dark to us. But as to your own

researches,ifthereisanypossiblewayinwhichIcanbeofservicetoyouItrustthatyouwillcommand
me.IfIhadanyindicationofthenatureofyoursuspicionsorhowyouproposetoinvestigatethecase,I
mightperhapsevennowgiveyousomeaidoradvice."

"IassureyouthatIamsimplyhereuponavisittomyfriend,SirHenry,andthatIneednohelpof

anykind."

"Excellent!"saidStapleton."Youareperfectlyrighttobewaryanddiscreet.Iamjustlyreprovedfor

whatIfeelwasanunjustifiableintrusion,andIpromiseyouthatIwillnotmentionthematteragain."

Wehadcometoapointwhereanarrowgrassypathstruckofffromtheroadandwoundawayacross

themoor.Asteep,boulder-sprinkledhilllayupontherightwhichhadinbygonedaysbeencutintoa
granite quarry. The face which was turned towards us formed a dark cliff, with ferns and brambles
growinginitsniches.Fromoveradistantrisetherefloatedagrayplumeofsmoke.

"Amoderatewalkalongthismoor-pathbringsustoMerripitHouse,"saidhe."Perhapsyouwillspare

anhourthatImayhavethepleasureofintroducingyoutomysister."

MyfirstthoughtwasthatIshouldbebySirHenry'sside.ButthenIrememberedthepileofpapers

and bills with which his study table was littered. It was certain that I could not help with those. And
Holmes had expressly said that I should study the neighbours upon the moor. I accepted Stapleton's
invitation,andweturnedtogetherdownthepath.

"It is a wonderful place, the moor," said he, looking round over the undulating downs, long green

rollers,withcrestsofjaggedgranitefoamingupintofantasticsurges."Younevertireofthemoor.You
cannotthinkthewonderfulsecretswhichitcontains.Itissovast,andsobarren,andsomysterious."

"Youknowitwell,then?"

"Ihaveonlybeenheretwoyears.Theresidentswouldcallmeanewcomer.WecameshortlyafterSir

Charlessettled.Butmytastesledmetoexploreeverypartofthecountryround,andIshouldthinkthat
therearefewmenwhoknowitbetterthanIdo."

"Isithardtoknow?"

"Veryhard.Yousee,forexample,thisgreatplaintothenorthherewiththequeerhillsbreakingout

ofit.Doyouobserveanythingremarkableaboutthat?"

"Itwouldbearareplaceforagallop."

"You would naturally think so and the thought has cost several their lives before now. You notice

thosebrightgreenspotsscatteredthicklyoverit?"

"Yes,theyseemmorefertilethantherest."

Stapleton laughed. "That is the great Grimpen Mire," said he. "A false step yonder means death to

manorbeast.OnlyyesterdayIsawoneofthemoorponieswanderintoit.Henevercameout.Isawhis
head for quite a long time craning out of the bog-hole, but it sucked him down at last. Even in dry
seasonsitisadangertocrossit,butaftertheseautumnrainsitisanawfulplace.AndyetIcanfindmy
waytotheveryheartofitandreturnalive.ByGeorge,thereisanotherofthosemiserableponies!"

Somethingbrownwasrollingandtossingamongthegreensedges.Thenalong,agonized,writhing

neck shot upward and a dreadful cry echoed over the moor. It turned me cold with horror, but my
companion'snervesseemedtobestrongerthanmine.

"It'sgone!"saidhe."Themirehashim.Twointwodays,andmanymore,perhaps,fortheygetinthe

way of going there in the dry weather and never know the difference until the mire has them in its
clutches.It'sabadplace,thegreatGrimpenMire."

"Andyousayyoucanpenetrateit?"

"Yes,thereareoneortwopathswhichaveryactivemancantake.Ihavefoundthemout."

"Butwhyshouldyouwishtogointosohorribleaplace?"

"Well,youseethehillsbeyond?Theyarereallyislandscutoffonallsidesbytheimpassablemire,

whichhascrawledroundtheminthecourseofyears.Thatiswheretherareplantsandthebutterflies
are,ifyouhavethewittoreachthem."

"Ishalltrymylucksomeday."

Helookedatmewithasurprisedface."ForGod'ssakeputsuchanideaoutofyourmind,"saidhe.

"Your blood would be upon my head. I assure you that there would not be the least chance of your
comingbackalive.ItisonlybyrememberingcertaincomplexlandmarksthatIamabletodoit."

"Halloa!"Icried."Whatisthat?"

A long, low moan, indescribably sad, swept over the moor. It filled the whole air, and yet it was

impossibletosaywhenceitcame.Fromadullmurmuritswelledintoadeeproar,andthensankback
intoamelancholy,throbbingmurmuronceagain.Stapletonlookedatmewithacuriousexpressionin
hisface.

"Queerplace,themoor!"saidhe.

"Butwhatisit?"

"ThepeasantssayitistheHoundoftheBaskervillescallingforitsprey.I'vehearditonceortwice

before,butneverquitesoloud."

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
fromatorbehindus.

"Youareaneducatedman.Youdon'tbelievesuchnonsenseasthat?"saidI."Whatdoyouthinkis

thecauseofsostrangeasound?"

"Bogsmakequeernoisessometimes.It'sthemudsettling,orthewaterrising,orsomething."

"No,no,thatwasalivingvoice."

"Well,perhapsitwas.Didyoueverhearabitternbooming?"

"No,Ineverdid."

"It'saveryrarebird—practicallyextinct—inEnglandnow,butallthingsarepossibleuponthemoor.

Yes,Ishouldnotbesurprisedtolearnthatwhatwehaveheardisthecryofthelastofthebitterns."

"It'stheweirdest,strangestthingthateverIheardinmylife."

"Yes, it's rather an uncanny place altogether. Look at the hillside yonder. What do you make of

those?"

Thewholesteepslopewascoveredwithgraycircularringsofstone,ascoreofthematleast.

"Whatarethey?Sheep-pens?"

"No,theyarethehomesofourworthyancestors.Prehistoricmanlivedthicklyonthemoor,andasno

oneinparticularhaslivedtheresince,wefindallhislittlearrangementsexactlyasheleftthem.These
arehiswigwamswiththeroofsoff.Youcanevenseehishearthandhiscouchifyouhavethecuriosity
togoinside.

"Butitisquiteatown.Whenwasitinhabited?"

"Neolithicman—nodate."

"Whatdidhedo?"

"Hegrazedhiscattleontheseslopes,andhelearnedtodigfortinwhenthebronzeswordbeganto

supersedethestoneaxe.Lookatthegreattrenchintheoppositehill.Thatishismark.Yes,youwillfind
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

extraordinary energy and speed in pursuit of it. To my dismay the creature flew straight for the great
mire,andmyacquaintanceneverpausedforaninstant,boundingfromtufttotuftbehindit,hisgreen
netwavingintheair.Hisgrayclothesandjerky,zigzag,irregularprogressmadehimnotunlikesome
huge moth himself. I was standing watching his pursuit with a mixture of admiration for his
extraordinaryactivityandfearlestheshouldlosehisfootinginthetreacherousmire,whenIheardthe
sound of steps and, turning round, found a woman near me upon the path. She had come from the
directioninwhichtheplumeofsmokeindicatedthepositionofMerripitHouse,butthedipofthemoor
hadhidheruntilshewasquiteclose.

IcouldnotdoubtthatthiswastheMissStapletonofwhomIhadbeentold,sinceladiesofanysort

mustbefewuponthemoor,andIrememberedthatIhadheardsomeonedescribeherasbeingabeauty.

The woman who approached me was certainly that, and of a most uncommon type. There could not
havebeenagreatercontrastbetweenbrotherandsister,forStapletonwasneutraltinted,withlighthair
andgrayeyes,whileshewasdarkerthananybrunettewhomIhaveseeninEngland—slim,elegant,and
tall.Shehadaproud,finelycutface,soregularthatitmighthaveseemedimpassivewereitnotforthe
sensitivemouthandthebeautifuldark,eagereyes.Withherperfectfigureandelegantdressshewas,
indeed,astrangeapparitionuponalonelymoorlandpath.HereyeswereonherbrotherasIturned,and
thenshequickenedherpacetowardsme.Ihadraisedmyhatandwasabouttomakesomeexplanatory
remarkwhenherownwordsturnedallmythoughtsintoanewchannel.

"Goback!"shesaid."GostraightbacktoLondon,instantly."

I could only stare at her in stupid surprise. Her eyes blazed at me, and she tapped the ground

impatientlywithherfoot.

"WhyshouldIgoback?"Iasked.

"I cannot explain." She spoke in a low, eager voice, with a curious lisp in her utterance. "But for

God'ssakedowhatIaskyou.Gobackandneversetfootuponthemooragain."

"ButIhaveonlyjustcome."

"Man,man!"shecried."Canyounottellwhenawarningisforyourowngood?GobacktoLondon!

Starttonight!Getawayfromthisplaceatallcosts!Hush,mybrotheriscoming!NotawordofwhatI
havesaid.Wouldyoumindgettingthatorchidformeamongthemare's-tailsyonder?Weareveryrich
inorchidsonthemoor,though,ofcourse,youareratherlatetoseethebeautiesoftheplace."

Stapleton had abandoned the chase and came back to us breathing hard and flushed with his

exertions.

"Halloa,Beryl!"saidhe,anditseemedtomethatthetoneofhisgreetingwasnotaltogetheracordial

one.

"Well,Jack,youareveryhot."

"Yes,IwaschasingaCyclopides.Heisveryrareandseldomfoundinthelateautumn.Whatapity

thatIshouldhavemissedhim!"Hespokeunconcernedly,buthissmalllighteyesglancedincessantly
fromthegirltome.

"Youhaveintroducedyourselves,Icansee."

"Yes.IwastellingSirHenrythatitwasratherlateforhimtoseethetruebeautiesofthemoor."

"Why,whodoyouthinkthisis?"

"IimaginethatitmustbeSirHenryBaskerville."

"No,no,"saidI."Onlyahumblecommoner,buthisfriend.MynameisDr.Watson."

Aflushofvexationpassedoverherexpressiveface."Wehavebeentalkingatcrosspurposes,"said

she.

"Why,youhadnotverymuchtimefortalk,"herbrotherremarkedwiththesamequestioningeyes.

"ItalkedasifDr.Watsonwerearesidentinsteadofbeingmerelyavisitor,"saidshe."Itcannotmuch

matter to him whether it is early or late for the orchids. But you will come on, will you not, and see
MerripitHouse?"

A short walk brought us to it, a bleak moorland house, once the farm of some grazier in the old

prosperousdays,butnowputintorepairandturnedintoamoderndwelling.Anorchardsurroundedit,
butthetrees,asisusualuponthemoor,werestuntedandnipped,andtheeffectofthewholeplacewas
mean and melancholy. We were admitted by a strange, wizened, rusty-coated old manservant, who
seemedinkeepingwiththehouse.Inside,however,therewerelargeroomsfurnishedwithanelegance

inwhichIseemedtorecognizethetasteofthelady.AsIlookedfromtheirwindowsattheinterminable
granite-fleckedmoorrollingunbrokentothefarthesthorizonIcouldnotbutmarvelatwhatcouldhave
broughtthishighlyeducatedmanandthisbeautifulwomantoliveinsuchaplace.

"Queerspottochoose,isitnot?"saidheasifinanswertomythought."Andyetwemanagetomake

ourselvesfairlyhappy,dowenot,Beryl?"

"Quitehappy,"saidshe,buttherewasnoringofconvictioninherwords.

"Ihadaschool,"saidStapleton."Itwasinthenorthcountry.Theworktoamanofmytemperament

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 epidemic 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,ifitwerenotforthelossofthecharmingcompanionshipoftheboys,Icouldrejoiceovermyown
misfortune, for, with my strong tastes for botany and zoology, I find an unlimited field of work here,
andmysisterisasdevotedtoNatureasIam.Allthis,Dr.Watson,hasbeenbroughtuponyourheadby
yourexpressionasyousurveyedthemooroutofourwindow."

"It certainly did cross my mind that it might be a little dull—less for you, perhaps, than for your

sister."

"No,no,Iamneverdull,"saidshequickly.

"We have books, we have our studies, and we have interesting neighbours. Dr. Mortimer is a most

learnedmaninhisownline.PoorSirCharleswasalsoanadmirablecompanion.Weknewhimwelland
miss him more than I can tell. Do you think that I should intrude if I were to call this afternoon and
maketheacquaintanceofSirHenry?"

"Iamsurethathewouldbedelighted."

"ThenperhapsyouwouldmentionthatIproposetodoso.Wemayinourhumblewaydosomething

tomakethingsmoreeasyforhimuntilhebecomesaccustomedtohisnewsurroundings.Willyoucome
upstairs,Dr.Watson,andinspectmycollectionofLepidoptera?Ithinkitisthemostcompleteonein
thesouth-westofEngland.Bythetimethatyouhavelookedthroughthemlunchwillbealmostready."

ButIwaseagertogetbacktomycharge.Themelancholyofthemoor,thedeathoftheunfortunate

pony, the weird sound which had been associated with the grim legend of the Baskervilles, all these
thingstingedmythoughtswithsadness.Thenonthetopofthesemoreorlessvagueimpressionsthere
hadcomethedefiniteanddistinctwarningofMissStapleton,deliveredwithsuchintenseearnestness
thatIcouldnotdoubtthatsomegraveanddeepreasonlaybehindit.Iresistedallpressuretostayfor
lunch,andIsetoffatonceuponmyreturnjourney,takingthegrass-grownpathbywhichwehadcome.

Itseems,however,thattheremusthavebeensomeshortcutforthosewhoknewit,forbeforeIhad

reachedtheroadIwasastoundedtoseeMissStapletonsittinguponarockbythesideofthetrack.Her
facewasbeautifullyflushedwithherexertionsandsheheldherhandtoherside.

"Ihaverunallthewayinordertocutyouoff,Dr.Watson,"saidshe."Ihadnoteventimetoputon

myhat.Imustnotstop,ormybrothermaymissme.IwantedtosaytoyouhowsorryIamaboutthe
stupidmistakeImadeinthinkingthatyouwereSirHenry.PleaseforgetthewordsIsaid,whichhave
noapplicationwhatevertoyou."

"ButIcan'tforgetthem,MissStapleton,"saidI."IamSirHenry'sfriend,andhiswelfareisavery

close concern of mine. Tell me why it was that you were so eager that Sir Henry should return to
London."

"Awoman'swhim,Dr.Watson.WhenyouknowmebetteryouwillunderstandthatIcannotalways

givereasonsforwhatIsayordo."

"No, no. I remember the thrill in your voice. I remember the look in your eyes. Please, please, 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
whichonemaysinkandwithnoguidetopointthetrack.Tellmethenwhatitwasthatyoumeant,andI
willpromisetoconveyyourwarningtoSirHenry."

An expression of irresolution passed for an instant over her face, but her eyes had hardened again

whensheansweredme.

"Youmaketoomuchofit,Dr.Watson,"saidshe."MybrotherandIwereverymuchshockedbythe

death of Sir Charles. We knew him very intimately, for his favourite walk was over the moor to our
house.Hewasdeeplyimpressedwiththecursewhichhungoverthefamily,andwhenthistragedycame
Inaturallyfeltthattheremustbesomegroundsforthefearswhichhehadexpressed.Iwasdistressed
therefore when another member of the family came down to live here, and I felt that he should be
warnedofthedangerwhichhewillrun.ThatwasallwhichIintendedtoconvey.

"Butwhatisthedanger?"

"Youknowthestoryofthehound?"

"Idonotbelieveinsuchnonsense."

"ButIdo.IfyouhaveanyinfluencewithSirHenry,takehimawayfromaplacewhichhasalways

beenfataltohisfamily.Theworldiswide.Whyshouldhewishtoliveattheplaceofdanger?"

"Becauseitistheplaceofdanger.ThatisSirHenry'snature.Ifearthatunlessyoucangivemesome

moredefiniteinformationthanthisitwouldbeimpossibletogethimtomove."

"Icannotsayanythingdefinite,forIdonotknowanythingdefinite."

"Iwouldaskyouonemorequestion,MissStapleton.Ifyoumeantnomorethanthiswhenyoufirst

spoke to me, why should you not wish your brother to overhear what you said? There is nothing to
whichhe,oranyoneelse,couldobject."

"MybrotherisveryanxioustohavetheHallinhabited,forhethinksitisforthegoodofthepoorfolk

uponthemoor.HewouldbeveryangryifheknewthatIhavesaidanythingwhichmightinduceSir
Henrytogoaway.ButIhavedonemydutynowandIwillsaynomore.Imustgoback,orhewillmiss
me and suspect that I have seen you. Good-bye!" She turned and had disappeared in a few minutes
amongthescatteredboulders,whileI,withmysoulfullofvaguefears,pursuedmywaytoBaskerville
Hall.

Chapter8.FirstReportofDr.Watson

From this point onward I will follow the course of events by transcribing my own letters to Mr.

SherlockHolmeswhichliebeforemeonthetable.Onepageismissing,butotherwisetheyareexactly
aswrittenandshowmyfeelingsandsuspicionsofthemomentmoreaccuratelythanmymemory,clear
asitisuponthesetragicevents,canpossiblydo.

BaskervilleHall,October13th.MYDEARHOLMES:Mypreviouslettersandtelegramshavekept

youprettywelluptodateastoallthathasoccurredinthismostGod-forsakencorneroftheworld.The
longeronestaysherethemoredoesthespiritofthemoorsinkintoone'ssoul,itsvastness,andalsoits
grimcharm.WhenyouareonceoutuponitsbosomyouhaveleftalltracesofmodernEnglandbehind
you,but,ontheotherhand,youareconsciouseverywhereofthehomesandtheworkoftheprehistoric
people.Onallsidesofyouasyouwalkarethehousesoftheseforgottenfolk,withtheirgravesandthe
hugemonolithswhicharesupposedtohavemarkedtheirtemples.Asyoulookattheirgraystonehuts
against the scarred hillsides you leave your own age behind you, and if you were to see a skin-clad,
hairymancrawloutfromthelowdoorfittingaflint-tippedarrowontothestringofhisbow,youwould
feelthathispresencetherewasmorenaturalthanyourown.Thestrangethingisthattheyshouldhave
livedsothicklyonwhatmustalwayshavebeenmostunfruitfulsoil.Iamnoantiquarian,butIcould
imagine that they were some unwarlike and harried race who were forced to accept that which none
otherwouldoccupy.

All this, however, is foreign to the mission on which you sent me and will probably be very

uninteresting to your severely practical mind. I can still remember your complete indifference as to
whetherthesunmovedroundtheearthortheearthroundthesun.Letme,therefore,returntothefacts
concerningSirHenryBaskerville.

Ifyouhavenothadanyreportwithinthelastfewdaysitisbecauseuptotodaytherewasnothingof

importancetorelate.Thenaverysurprisingcircumstanceoccurred,whichIshalltellyouinduecourse.
But,firstofall,Imustkeepyouintouchwithsomeoftheotherfactorsinthesituation.

One of these, concerning which I have said little, 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 lonely
householdersofthisdistrict.Afortnighthaspassedsincehisflight,duringwhichhehasnotbeenseen
andnothinghasbeenheardofhim.Itissurelyinconceivablethathecouldhaveheldoutuponthemoor
duringallthattime.Ofcourse,sofarashisconcealmentgoesthereisnodifficultyatall.Anyoneof
thesestonehutswouldgivehimahiding-place.Butthereisnothingtoeatunlessheweretocatchand
slaughteroneofthemoorsheep.Wethink,therefore,thathehasgone,andtheoutlyingfarmerssleep
thebetterinconsequence.

Wearefourable-bodiedmeninthishousehold,sothatwecouldtakegoodcareofourselves,butI

confessthatIhavehaduneasymomentswhenIhavethoughtoftheStapletons.Theylivemilesfrom
anyhelp.Thereareonemaid,anoldmanservant,thesister,andthebrother,thelatternotaverystrong
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
suggestedthatPerkinsthegroomshouldgoovertosleepthere,butStapletonwouldnothearofit.

Thefactisthatourfriend,thebaronet,beginstodisplayaconsiderableinterestinourfairneighbour.

Itisnottobewonderedat,fortimehangsheavilyinthislonelyspottoanactivemanlikehim,andshe
is a very fascinating and beautiful woman. There is something tropical and exotic about her which
formsasingularcontrasttohercoolandunemotionalbrother.Yethealsogivestheideaofhiddenfires.

Hehascertainlyaverymarkedinfluenceoverher,forIhaveseenhercontinuallyglanceathimasshe
talkedasifseekingapprobationforwhatshesaid.Itrustthatheiskindtoher.Thereisadryglitterin
his eyes and a firm set of his thin lips, which goes with a positive and possibly a harsh nature. You
wouldfindhimaninterestingstudy.

HecameovertocalluponBaskervilleonthatfirstday,andtheverynextmorninghetookusbothto

show us the spot where the legend of the wicked Hugo is supposed to have had its origin. It was an
excursionofsomemilesacrossthemoortoaplacewhichissodismalthatitmighthavesuggestedthe
story.Wefoundashortvalleybetweenruggedtorswhichledtoanopen,grassyspacefleckedoverwith
thewhitecottongrass.Inthemiddleofitrosetwogreatstones,wornandsharpenedattheupperend
untiltheylookedlikethehugecorrodingfangsofsomemonstrousbeast.Ineverywayitcorresponded
withthesceneoftheoldtragedy.SirHenrywasmuchinterestedandaskedStapletonmorethanonce
whetherhe did reallybelieve in thepossibility of the interferenceof the supernaturalin the affairs of
men.Hespokelightly,butitwasevidentthathewasverymuchinearnest.Stapletonwasguardedinhis
replies,butitwaseasytoseethathesaidlessthanhemight,andthathewouldnotexpresshiswhole
opinionoutofconsiderationforthefeelingsofthebaronet.Hetoldusofsimilarcases,wherefamilies
had suffered from some evil influence, and he left us with the impression that he shared the popular
viewuponthematter.

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
againonourwalkhome,andsincethenhardlyadayhaspassedthatwehavenotseensomethingofthe
brotherandsister.Theydineheretonight,andthereissometalkofourgoingtothemnextweek.One
wouldimaginethatsuchamatchwouldbeverywelcometoStapleton,andyetIhavemorethanonce
caughtalookofthestrongestdisapprobationinhisfacewhenSirHenryhasbeenpayingsomeattention
tohissister.Heismuchattachedtoher,nodoubt,andwouldleadalonelylifewithouther,butitwould
seemtheheightofselfishnessifheweretostandinthewayofhermakingsobrilliantamarriage.YetI
amcertainthathedoesnotwishtheirintimacytoripenintolove,andIhaveseveraltimesobservedthat
hehastakenpainstopreventthemfrombeingtete-a-tete.Bytheway,yourinstructionstomeneverto
allowSirHenrytogooutalonewillbecomeverymuchmoreonerousifaloveaffairweretobeadded
toourotherdifficulties.MypopularitywouldsoonsufferifIweretocarryoutyourorderstotheletter.

Theotherday—Thursday,tobemoreexact—Dr.Mortimerlunchedwithus.Hehasbeenexcavating

abarrowatLongDownandhasgotaprehistoricskullwhichfillshimwithgreatjoy.Neverwasthere
suchasingle-mindedenthusiastashe!TheStapletonscameinafterwards,andthegooddoctortookus
alltotheyewalleyatSirHenry'srequesttoshowusexactlyhoweverythingoccurreduponthatfatal
night.Itisalong,dismalwalk,theyewalley,betweentwohighwallsofclippedhedge,withanarrow
bandofgrassuponeitherside.Atthefarendisanoldtumble-downsummer-house.Halfwaydownis
the moor-gate, where the old gentleman left his cigar-ash. It is a white wooden gate with a latch.
Beyond it lies the wide moor. I remembered your theory of the affair and tried to picture all that had
occurred. As the old man stood there he saw something coming across the moor, something which
terrifiedhimsothathelosthiswitsandranandranuntilhediedofsheerhorrorandexhaustion.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 human agency in the matter? Did the pale,
watchfulBarrymoreknowmorethanhecaredtosay?Itwasalldimandvague,butalwaysthereisthe
darkshadowofcrimebehindit.

OneotherneighbourIhavemetsinceIwrotelast.ThisisMr.Frankland,ofLafterHall,wholives

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
pleasureoffightingandisequallyreadytotakeupeithersideofaquestion,sothatitisnowonderthat
he has found it a costly amusement. Sometimes he will shut up a right of way and defy the parish to
makehimopenit.Atothershewillwithhisownhandsteardownsomeotherman'sgateanddeclare
thatapathhasexistedtherefromtimeimmemorial,defyingtheownertoprosecutehimfortrespass.He
islearnedinoldmanorialandcommunalrights,andheapplieshisknowledgesometimesinfavourof
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
haveaboutsevenlawsuitsuponhishandsatpresent,whichwillprobablyswallowuptheremainderof
hisfortuneandsodrawhisstingandleavehimharmlessforthefuture.Apartfromthelawheseemsa
kindly, good-natured person, and I only mention him because you were particular that I should send
some description of the people who surround us. He is curiously employed at present, for, being an
amateurastronomer,hehasanexcellenttelescope,withwhichheliesupontheroofofhisownhouse
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 because he dug up the Neolithic
skullinthebarrowonLongDown.Hehelpstokeepourlivesfrombeingmonotonousandgivesalittle
comicreliefwhereitisbadlyneeded.

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,andespeciallyaboutthesurprisingdevelopmentoflastnight.

Firstofallaboutthetesttelegram,whichyousentfromLondoninordertomakesurethatBarrymore

wasreallyhere.Ihavealreadyexplainedthatthetestimonyofthepostmastershowsthatthetestwas
worthlessandthatwehavenoproofonewayortheother.ItoldSirHenryhowthematterstood,andhe
at once, in his downright fashion, had Barrymore up and asked him whether he had received the
telegramhimself.Barrymoresaidthathehad.

"Didtheboydeliveritintoyourownhands?"askedSirHenry.

Barrymorelookedsurprised,andconsideredforalittletime.

"No,"saidhe,"Iwasinthebox-roomatthetime,andmywifebroughtituptome."

"Didyouanswerityourself?"

"No;Itoldmywifewhattoanswerandshewentdowntowriteit."

Intheeveningherecurredtothesubjectofhisownaccord.

"Icouldnotquiteunderstandtheobjectofyourquestionsthismorning,SirHenry,"saidhe."Itrust

thattheydonotmeanthatIhavedoneanythingtoforfeityourconfidence?"

SirHenryhadtoassurehimthatitwasnotsoandpacifyhimbygivinghimaconsiderablepartofhis

oldwardrobe,theLondonoutfithavingnowallarrived.

Mrs.Barrymoreisofinteresttome.Sheisaheavy,solidperson,verylimited,intenselyrespectable,

andinclinedtobepuritanical.Youcouldhardlyconceivealessemotionalsubject.YetIhavetoldyou
how,onthefirstnighthere,Iheardhersobbingbitterly,andsincethenIhavemorethanonceobserved
tracesoftearsuponherface.Somedeepsorrowgnawseveratherheart.SometimesIwonderifshehas
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
adventureoflastnightbringsallmysuspicionstoahead.

Andyetitmayseemasmallmatterinitself.YouareawarethatIamnotaverysoundsleeper,and

sinceIhavebeenonguardinthishousemyslumbershavebeenlighterthanever.Lastnight,abouttwo
inthemorning,Iwasarousedbyastealthysteppassingmyroom.Irose,openedmydoor,andpeeped
out. A long black shadow was trailing down the corridor. It was thrown by a man who walked softly
downthepassagewithacandleheldinhishand.Hewasinshirtandtrousers,withnocoveringtohis
feet.Icouldmerelyseetheoutline,buthisheighttoldmethatitwasBarrymore.Hewalkedveryslowly
andcircumspectly,andtherewassomethingindescribablyguiltyandfurtiveinhiswholeappearance.

I have told you that the corridor is broken by the balcony which runs round the hall, but that it is

resumeduponthefartherside.IwaiteduntilhehadpassedoutofsightandthenIfollowedhim.WhenI
cameroundthebalconyhehadreachedtheendofthefarthercorridor,andIcouldseefromtheglimmer
of light through an open door that he had entered one of the rooms. Now, all these rooms are
unfurnishedandunoccupiedsothathisexpeditionbecamemoremysteriousthanever.Thelightshone
steadilyasifhewerestandingmotionless.IcreptdownthepassageasnoiselesslyasIcouldandpeeped
roundthecornerofthedoor.

Barrymorewascrouchingatthewindowwiththecandleheldagainsttheglass.Hisprofilewashalf

turnedtowardsme,andhisfaceseemedtoberigidwithexpectationashestaredoutintotheblackness
of the moor. For some minutes he stood watching intently. Then he gave a deep groan and with an
impatientgestureheputoutthelight.InstantlyImademywaybacktomyroom,andveryshortlycame
thestealthystepspassingoncemoreupontheirreturnjourney.LongafterwardswhenIhadfallenintoa
lightsleepIheardakeyturnsomewhereinalock,butIcouldnottellwhencethesoundcame.Whatit
all means I cannot guess, but there is some secret business going on in this house of gloom which
soonerorlaterweshallgettothebottomof.Idonottroubleyouwithmytheories,foryouaskedmeto
furnishyouonlywithfacts.IhavehadalongtalkwithSirHenrythismorning,andwehavemadea
planofcampaignfoundeduponmyobservationsoflastnight.Iwillnotspeakaboutitjustnow,butit
shouldmakemynextreportinterestingreading.

Chapter9.TheLightupontheMoor[SecondReportofDr.Watson]

Baskerville Hall, Oct. 15th. MY DEAR HOLMES: If I was compelled to leave you without much

newsduringtheearlydaysofmymissionyoumustacknowledgethatIammakingupforlosttime,and
thateventsarenowcrowdingthickandfastuponus.InmylastreportIendeduponmytopnotewith
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
somewaystheyhavewithinthelastforty-eighthoursbecomemuchclearerandinsomewaystheyhave
becomemorecomplicated.ButIwilltellyouallandyoushalljudgeforyourself.

BeforebreakfastonthemorningfollowingmyadventureIwentdownthecorridorandexaminedthe

room in which Barrymore had been on the night before. The western window through which he had
staredsointentlyhas,Inoticed,onepeculiarityaboveallotherwindowsinthehouse—itcommandsthe
nearest outlook on to the moor. There is an opening between two trees which enables one from this
pointofviewtolookrightdownuponit,whilefromalltheotherwindowsitisonlyadistantglimpse
which can be obtained. It follows, therefore, that Barrymore, since only this window would serve the
purpose, must have been looking out for something or somebody upon the moor. The night was very
dark,sothatIcanhardlyimaginehowhecouldhavehopedtoseeanyone.Ithadstruckmethatitwas
possible that some love intrigue was on foot. That would have accounted for his stealthy movements
andalsofortheuneasinessofhiswife.Themanisastriking-lookingfellow,verywellequippedtosteal
theheartofacountrygirl,sothatthistheoryseemedtohavesomethingtosupportit.Thatopeningof
thedoorwhichIhadheardafterIhadreturnedtomyroommightmeanthathehadgoneouttokeep
someclandestineappointment.SoIreasonedwithmyselfinthemorning,andItellyouthedirectionof
mysuspicions,howevermuchtheresultmayhaveshownthattheywereunfounded.

ButwhateverthetrueexplanationofBarrymore'smovementsmightbe,Ifeltthattheresponsibility

of keeping them to myself until I could explain them was more than I could bear. I had an interview
with the baronet in his study after breakfast, and I told him all that I had seen. He was less surprised
thanIhadexpected.

"I knew that Barrymore walked about nights, and I had a mind to speak to him about it," said he.

"TwoorthreetimesIhaveheardhisstepsinthepassage,comingandgoing,justaboutthehouryou
name."

"Perhapsthenhepaysavisiteverynighttothatparticularwindow,"Isuggested.

"Perhapshedoes.Ifso,weshouldbeabletoshadowhimandseewhatitisthatheisafter.Iwonder

whatyourfriendHolmeswoulddoifhewerehere."

"Ibelievethathewoulddoexactlywhatyounowsuggest,"saidI."HewouldfollowBarrymoreand

seewhathedid."

"Thenweshalldoittogether."

"Butsurelyhewouldhearus."

"Themanisratherdeaf,andinanycasewemusttakeourchanceofthat.We'llsitupinmyroom

tonightandwaituntilhepasses."SirHenryrubbedhishandswithpleasure,anditwasevidentthathe
hailedtheadventureasarelieftohissomewhatquietlifeuponthemoor.

The baronet has been in communication with the architect who prepared the plans for Sir Charles,

andwithacontractorfromLondon,sothatwemayexpectgreatchangestobeginheresoon.Therehave
beendecoratorsandfurnishersupfromPlymouth,anditisevidentthatourfriendhaslargeideasand

meanstosparenopainsorexpensetorestorethegrandeurofhisfamily.Whenthehouseisrenovated
andrefurnished,allthathewillneedwillbeawifetomakeitcomplete.Betweenourselvesthereare
prettyclearsignsthatthiswillnotbewantingiftheladyiswilling,forIhaveseldomseenamanmore
infatuatedwithawomanthanheiswithourbeautifulneighbour,MissStapleton.Andyetthecourseof
true love does not run quite as smoothly as one would under the circumstances expect. Today, for
example,itssurfacewasbrokenbyaveryunexpectedripple,whichhascausedourfriendconsiderable
perplexityandannoyance.

AftertheconversationwhichIhavequotedaboutBarrymore,SirHenryputonhishatandprepared

togoout.AsamatterofcourseIdidthesame.

"What,areyoucoming,Watson?"heasked,lookingatmeinacuriousway.

"Thatdependsonwhetheryouaregoingonthemoor,"saidI.

"Yes,Iam."

"Well,youknowwhatmyinstructionsare.Iamsorrytointrude,butyouheardhowearnestlyHolmes

insistedthatIshouldnotleaveyou,andespeciallythatyoushouldnotgoaloneuponthemoor."

SirHenryputhishanduponmyshoulderwithapleasantsmile.

"My dear fellow," said he, "Holmes, with all his wisdom, did not foresee some things which have

happenedsinceIhavebeenonthemoor.Youunderstandme?Iamsurethatyouarethelastmaninthe
worldwhowouldwishtobeaspoil-sport.Imustgooutalone."

It put me in a most awkward position. I was at a loss what to say or what to do, and before I had

madeupmymindhepickeduphiscaneandwasgone.

Butwhen I cameto think thematter over my consciencereproached me bitterlyfor having on any

pretextallowedhimtogooutofmysight.IimaginedwhatmyfeelingswouldbeifIhadtoreturnto
you and to confess that some misfortune had occurred through my disregard for your instructions. I
assureyoumycheeksflushedattheverythought.Itmightnotevennowbetoolatetoovertakehim,so
IsetoffatonceinthedirectionofMerripitHouse.

IhurriedalongtheroadatthetopofmyspeedwithoutseeinganythingofSirHenry,untilIcameto

the point where the moor path branches off. There, fearing that perhaps I had come in the wrong
directionafterall,ImountedahillfromwhichIcouldcommandaview—thesamehillwhichiscutinto
thedarkquarry.ThenceIsawhimatonce.Hewasonthemoorpathaboutaquarterofamileoff,anda
lady was by his side who could only be Miss Stapleton. It was clear that there was already an
understandingbetweenthemandthattheyhadmetbyappointment.Theywerewalkingslowlyalongin
deepconversation,andIsawhermakingquicklittlemovementsofherhandsasifshewereveryearnest
inwhatshewassaying,whilehelistenedintently,andonceortwiceshookhisheadinstrongdissent.I
stoodamongtherockswatchingthem,verymuchpuzzledastowhatIshoulddonext.Tofollowthem
andbreakintotheirintimateconversationseemedtobeanoutrage,andyetmycleardutywasneverfor
aninstanttolethimoutofmysight.Toactthespyuponafriendwasahatefultask.Still,Icouldseeno
better course than to observe him from the hill, and to clear my conscience by confessing to him
afterwardswhatIhaddone.ItistruethatifanysuddendangerhadthreatenedhimIwastoofarawayto
beofuse,andyetIamsurethatyouwillagreewithmethatthepositionwasverydifficult,andthat
therewasnothingmorewhichIcoulddo.

Ourfriend,SirHenry,andtheladyhadhaltedonthepathandwerestandingdeeplyabsorbedintheir

conversation,whenIwassuddenlyawarethatIwasnottheonlywitnessoftheirinterview.Awispof
greenfloatingintheaircaughtmyeye,andanotherglanceshowedmethatitwascarriedonastickbya
manwhowasmovingamongthebrokenground.ItwasStapletonwithhisbutterfly-net.Hewasvery

muchclosertothepairthanIwas,andheappearedtobemovingintheirdirection.AtthisinstantSir
HenrysuddenlydrewMissStapletontohisside.Hisarmwasroundher,butitseemedtomethatshe
was straining away from him with her face averted. He stooped his head to hers, and she raised one
handasifinprotest.NextmomentIsawthemspringapartandturnhurriedlyround.Stapletonwasthe
causeoftheinterruption.Hewasrunningwildlytowardsthem,hisabsurdnetdanglingbehindhim.He
gesticulatedandalmostdancedwithexcitementinfrontofthelovers.WhatthescenemeantIcouldnot
imagine, but it seemed to me that Stapleton was abusing Sir Henry, who offered explanations, which
becamemoreangryastheotherrefusedtoacceptthem.Theladystoodbyinhaughtysilence.Finally
Stapletonturneduponhisheelandbeckonedinaperemptorywaytohissister,who,afteranirresolute
glanceatSirHenry,walkedoffbythesideofherbrother.Thenaturalist'sangrygesturesshowedthat
theladywasincludedinhisdispleasure.Thebaronetstoodforaminutelookingafterthem,andthenhe
walkedslowlybackthewaythathehadcome,hisheadhanging,theverypictureofdejection.

WhatallthismeantIcouldnotimagine,butIwasdeeplyashamedtohavewitnessedsointimatea

scenewithoutmyfriend'sknowledge.Irandownthehillthereforeandmetthebaronetatthebottom.
Hisfacewasflushedwithangerandhisbrowswerewrinkled,likeonewhoisathiswit'sendswhatto
do.

"Halloa, Watson! Where have you dropped from?" said he. "You don't mean to say that you came

aftermeinspiteofall?"

Iexplainedeverythingtohim:howIhadfounditimpossibletoremainbehind,howIhadfollowed

him, and how I had witnessed all that had occurred. For an instant his eyes blazed at me, but my
franknessdisarmedhisanger,andhebrokeatlastintoaratherruefullaugh.

"Youwouldhavethoughtthemiddleofthatprairieafairlysafeplaceforamantobeprivate,"said

he, "but, by thunder, the whole countryside seems to have been out to see me do my wooing—and a
mightypoorwooingatthat!Wherehadyouengagedaseat?"

"Iwasonthathill."

"Quiteinthebackrow,eh?Butherbrotherwaswelluptothefront.Didyouseehimcomeouton

us?"

"Yes,Idid."

"Didheeverstrikeyouasbeingcrazy—thisbrotherofhers?"

"Ican'tsaythatheeverdid."

"Idaresaynot.Ialwaysthoughthimsaneenoughuntiltoday,butyoucantakeitfrommethateither

heorIoughttobeinastraitjacket.What'sthematterwithme,anyhow?You'velivednearmeforsome
weeks, Watson. Tell me straight, now! Is there anything that would prevent me from making a good
husbandtoawomanthatIloved?"

"Ishouldsaynot."

"Hecan'tobjecttomyworldlyposition,soitmustbemyselfthathehasthisdownon.Whathashe

againstme?IneverhurtmanorwomaninmylifethatIknowof.Andyethewouldnotsomuchaslet
metouchthetipsofherfingers."

"Didhesayso?"

"That,andadealmore.Itellyou,Watson,I'veonlyknownherthesefewweeks,butfromthefirstI

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 today for the first time that I saw a chance of having a few words with her
alone.Shewasgladtomeetme,butwhenshediditwasnotlovethatshewouldtalkabout,andshe

wouldn'thaveletmetalkaboutiteitherifshecouldhavestoppedit.Shekeptcomingbacktoitthatthis
wasaplaceofdanger,andthatshewouldneverbehappyuntilIhadleftit.ItoldherthatsinceIhad
seenherIwasinnohurrytoleaveit,andthatifshereallywantedmetogo,theonlywaytoworkitwas
forhertoarrangetogowithme.WiththatIofferedinasmanywordstomarryher,butbeforeshecould
answer,downcamethisbrotherofhers,runningatuswithafaceonhimlikeamadman.Hewasjust
white with rage, and those light eyes of his were blazing with fury. What was I doing with the lady?
HowdaredIofferherattentionswhichweredistastefultoher?DidIthinkthatbecauseIwasabaronetI
coulddowhatIliked?IfhehadnotbeenherbrotherIshouldhaveknownbetterhowtoanswerhim.As
itwasItoldhimthatmyfeelingstowardshissisterweresuchasIwasnotashamedof,andthatIhoped
thatshemighthonourmebybecomingmywife.Thatseemedtomakethematternobetter,sothenI
lostmytempertoo,andIansweredhimrathermorehotlythanIshouldperhaps,consideringthatshe
wasstandingby.Soitendedbyhisgoingoffwithher,asyousaw,andhereamIasbadlypuzzleda
manasanyinthiscounty.Justtellmewhatitallmeans,Watson,andI'lloweyoumorethaneverIcan
hopetopay."

Itriedoneortwoexplanations,but,indeed,Iwascompletelypuzzledmyself.Ourfriend'stitle,his

fortune,hisage,hischaracter,andhisappearanceareallinhisfavour,andIknownothingagainsthim
unlessitbethisdarkfatewhichrunsinhisfamily.Thathisadvancesshouldberejectedsobrusquely
without any reference to the lady's own wishes and that the lady should accept the situation without
protestisveryamazing.However,ourconjecturesweresetatrestbyavisitfromStapletonhimselfthat
veryafternoon.Hehadcometoofferapologiesforhisrudenessofthemorning,andafteralongprivate
interview with Sir Henry in his study the upshot of their conversation was that the breach is quite
healed,andthatwearetodineatMerripitHousenextFridayasasignofit.

"Idon'tsaynowthatheisn'tacrazyman,"saidSirHenry;"Ican'tforgetthelookinhiseyeswhenhe

ranatmethismorning,butImustallowthatnomancouldmakeamorehandsomeapologythanhehas
done."

"Didhegiveanyexplanationofhisconduct?"

"His sister is everything in his life, he says. That is natural enough, and I am glad that he should

understandhervalue.Theyhavealwaysbeentogether,andaccordingtohisaccounthehasbeenavery
lonelymanwithonlyherasacompanion,sothatthethoughtoflosingherwasreallyterribletohim.He
hadnotunderstood,hesaid,thatIwasbecomingattachedtoher,butwhenhesawwithhisowneyes
thatitwasreallyso,andthatshemightbetakenawayfromhim,itgavehimsuchashockthatfora
timehewasnotresponsibleforwhathesaidordid.Hewasverysorryforallthathadpassed,andhe
recognized how foolish and how selfish it was that he should imagine that he could hold a beautiful
woman like his sister to himself for her whole life. If she had to leave him he had rather it was to a
neighbourlikemyselfthantoanyoneelse.Butinanycaseitwasablowtohimanditwouldtakehim
sometimebeforehecouldpreparehimselftomeetit.Hewouldwithdrawalloppositionuponhispartif
I would promise for three months to let the matter rest and to be content with cultivating the lady's
friendshipduringthattimewithoutclaimingherlove.ThisIpromised,andsothematterrests."

Sothereisoneofoursmallmysteriesclearedup.Itissomethingtohavetouchedbottomanywherein

this bog in which we are floundering. We know now why Stapleton looked with disfavour upon his
sister'ssuitor—evenwhenthatsuitorwassoeligibleaoneasSirHenry.AndnowIpassontoanother
threadwhichIhaveextricatedoutofthetangledskein,themysteryofthesobsinthenight,ofthetear-
stained face of Mrs. Barrymore, of the secret journey of the butler to the western lattice window.
Congratulateme,mydearHolmes,andtellmethatIhavenotdisappointedyouasanagent—thatyou
donotregrettheconfidencewhichyoushowedinmewhenyousentmedown.Allthesethingshaveby
onenight'sworkbeenthoroughlycleared.

Ihavesaid"byonenight'swork,"but,intruth,itwasbytwonights'work,foronthefirstwedrew

entirely blank. I sat up with Sir Henry in his rooms until nearly three o'clock in the morning, but no
soundofanysortdidwehearexceptthechimingclockuponthestairs.Itwasamostmelancholyvigil
and ended by each of us falling asleep in our chairs. Fortunately we were not discouraged, and we
determinedtotryagain.Thenextnightweloweredthelampandsatsmokingcigaretteswithoutmaking
theleastsound.Itwasincrediblehowslowlythehourscrawledby,andyetwewerehelpedthroughit
by the same sort of patient interest which the hunter must feel as he watches the trap into which he
hopesthegamemaywander.Onestruck,andtwo,andwehadalmostforthesecondtimegivenitupin
despairwheninaninstantwebothsatboltuprightinourchairswithallourwearysenseskeenlyonthe
alertoncemore.Wehadheardthecreakofastepinthepassage.

Very stealthily we heard it pass along until it died away in the distance. Then the baronet gently

openedhisdoorandwesetoutinpursuit.Alreadyourmanhadgoneroundthegalleryandthecorridor
wasallindarkness.Softlywestolealonguntilwehadcomeintotheotherwing.Wewerejustintimeto
catchaglimpseofthetall,black-beardedfigure,hisshouldersroundedashetiptoeddownthepassage.
Thenhepassedthroughthesamedoorasbefore,andthelightofthecandleframeditinthedarkness
and shot one single yellow beam across the gloom of the corridor. We shuffled 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 behind 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
fortunatelyrather deaf, andhe was entirelypreoccupied in that whichhe was doing.When at last we
reachedthedoorandpeepedthroughwefoundhimcrouchingatthewindow,candleinhand,hiswhite,
intentfacepressedagainstthepane,exactlyasIhadseenhimtwonightsbefore.

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
windowwithasharphissofhisbreathandstood,lividandtrembling,beforeus.Hisdarkeyes,glaring
outofthewhitemaskofhisface,werefullofhorrorandastonishmentashegazedfromSirHenryto
me.

"Whatareyoudoinghere,Barrymore?"

"Nothing,sir."Hisagitationwassogreatthathecouldhardlyspeak,andtheshadowssprangupand

downfromtheshakingofhiscandle."Itwasthewindow,sir.Igoroundatnighttoseethattheyare
fastened."

"Onthesecondfloor?"

"Yes,sir,allthewindows."

"Lookhere,Barrymore,"saidSirHenrysternly,"wehavemadeupourmindstohavethetruthoutof

you,soitwillsaveyoutroubletotellitsoonerratherthanlater.Come,now!Nolies!Whatwereyou
doingatthatwindow?"

Thefellowlookedatusinahelplessway,andhewrunghishandstogetherlikeonewhoisinthelast

extremityofdoubtandmisery.

"Iwasdoingnoharm,sir.Iwasholdingacandletothewindow."

"Andwhywereyouholdingacandletothewindow?"

"Don'taskme,SirHenry—don'taskme!Igiveyoumyword,sir,thatitisnotmysecret,andthatI

cannottellit.IfitconcernednoonebutmyselfIwouldnottrytokeepitfromyou."

Asuddenideaoccurredtome,andItookthecandlefromthetremblinghandofthebutler.

"Hemusthavebeenholdingitasasignal,"saidI."Letusseeifthereisanyanswer."Ihelditashe

haddone,andstaredoutintothedarknessofthenight.VaguelyIcoulddiscerntheblackbankofthe
treesandthelighterexpanseofthemoor,forthemoonwasbehindtheclouds.AndthenIgaveacryof
exultation,foratinypinpointofyellowlighthadsuddenlytransfixedthedarkveil,andglowedsteadily
inthecentreoftheblacksquareframedbythewindow.

"Thereitis!"Icried.

"No,no,sir,itisnothing—nothingatall!"thebutlerbrokein;"Iassureyou,sir—"

"Moveyourlightacrossthewindow,Watson!"criedthebaronet."See,theothermovesalso!Now,

yourascal,doyoudenythatitisasignal?Come,speakup!Whoisyourconfederateoutyonder,and
whatisthisconspiracythatisgoingon?"

Theman'sfacebecameopenlydefiant."Itismybusiness,andnotyours.Iwillnottell."

"Thenyouleavemyemploymentrightaway."

"Verygood,sir.IfImustImust."

"Andyougoindisgrace.Bythunder,youmaywellbeashamedofyourself.Yourfamilyhaslived

withmineforoverahundredyearsunderthisroof,andhereIfindyoudeepinsomedarkplotagainst
me."

"No, no, sir; no, not against you!" It was a woman's voice, and Mrs. Barrymore, paler and more

horror-struckthanherhusband,wasstandingatthedoor.Herbulkyfigureinashawlandskirtmight
havebeencomicwereitnotfortheintensityoffeelinguponherface.

"Wehavetogo,Eliza.Thisistheendofit.Youcanpackourthings,"saidthebutler.

"Oh, John, John, have I brought you to this? It is my doing, Sir Henry—all mine. He has done

nothingexceptformysakeandbecauseIaskedhim."

"Speakout,then!Whatdoesitmean?"

"Myunhappybrotherisstarvingonthemoor.Wecannotlethimperishatourverygates.Thelightis

asignaltohimthatfoodisreadyforhim,andhislightoutyonderistoshowthespottowhichtobring
it."

"Thenyourbrotheris—"

"Theescapedconvict,sir—Selden,thecriminal."

"That'sthetruth,sir,"saidBarrymore."IsaidthatitwasnotmysecretandthatIcouldnottellitto

you.Butnowyouhaveheardit,andyouwillseethatiftherewasaplotitwasnotagainstyou."

This,then, was theexplanation of thestealthy expeditions at nightand the lightat the window. Sir

HenryandIbothstaredatthewomaninamazement.Wasitpossiblethatthisstolidlyrespectableperson
wasofthesamebloodasoneofthemostnotoriouscriminalsinthecountry?

"Yes,sir,mynamewasSelden,andheismyyoungerbrother.Wehumouredhimtoomuchwhenhe

wasaladandgavehimhisownwayineverythinguntilhecametothinkthattheworldwasmadefor
hispleasure,andthathecoulddowhathelikedinit.Thenashegrewolderhemetwickedcompanions,
andthedevilenteredintohimuntilhebrokemymother'sheartanddraggedournameinthedirt.From
crimetocrimehesanklowerandloweruntilitisonlythemercyofGodwhichhassnatchedhimfrom
thescaffold;buttome,sir,hewasalwaysthelittlecurly-headedboythatIhadnursedandplayedwith
asaneldersisterwould.Thatwaswhyhebrokeprison,sir.HeknewthatIwashereandthatwecould
notrefusetohelphim.Whenhedraggedhimselfhereonenight,wearyandstarving,withthewarders
hardathisheels,whatcouldwedo?Wetookhiminandfedhimandcaredforhim.Thenyoureturned,
sir,andmybrotherthoughthewouldbesaferonthemoorthananywhereelseuntilthehueandcrywas
over,sohelayinhidingthere.Buteverysecondnightwemadesureifhewasstilltherebyputtinga

light in the window, and if there was an answer my husband took out some bread and meat to him.
Everydaywehopedthathewasgone,butaslongashewastherewecouldnotdeserthim.Thatisthe
wholetruth,asIamanhonestChristianwomanandyouwillseethatifthereisblameinthematterit
doesnotliewithmyhusbandbutwithme,forwhosesakehehasdoneallthathehas."

Thewoman'swordscamewithanintenseearnestnesswhichcarriedconvictionwiththem.

"Isthistrue,Barrymore?"

"Yes,SirHenry.Everywordofit."

"Well,Icannotblameyouforstandingbyyourownwife.ForgetwhatIhavesaid.Gotoyourroom,

youtwo,andweshalltalkfurtheraboutthismatterinthemorning."

Whentheyweregonewelookedoutofthewindowagain.SirHenryhadflungitopen,andthecold

nightwindbeatinuponourfaces.Farawayintheblackdistancetherestillglowedthatonetinypoint
ofyellowlight.

"Iwonderhedares,"saidSirHenry.

"Itmaybesoplacedastobeonlyvisiblefromhere."

"Verylikely.Howfardoyouthinkitis?"

"OutbytheCleftTor,Ithink."

"Notmorethanamileortwooff."

"Hardlythat."

"Well, it cannot be far if Barrymore had to carry out the food to it. And he is waiting, this villain,

besidethatcandle.Bythunder,Watson,Iamgoingouttotakethatman!"

Thesamethoughthadcrossedmyownmind.ItwasnotasiftheBarrymoreshadtakenusintotheir

confidence. Their secret had been forced from them. The man was a danger to the community, an
unmitigated scoundrel for whom there was neither pity nor excuse. We were only doing our duty in
takingthischanceofputtinghimbackwherehecoulddonoharm.Withhisbrutalandviolentnature,
others would have to pay the price if we held our hands. Any night, for example, our neighbours the
Stapletonsmightbeattackedbyhim,anditmayhavebeenthethoughtofthiswhichmadeSirHenryso
keenupontheadventure.

"Iwillcome,"saidI.

"Thengetyourrevolverandputonyourboots.Thesoonerwestartthebetter,asthefellowmayput

outhislightandbeoff."

Infiveminuteswewereoutsidethedoor,startinguponourexpedition.Wehurriedthroughthedark

shrubbery,amidthedullmoaningoftheautumnwindandtherustleofthefallingleaves.Thenightair
washeavywiththesmellofdampanddecay.Nowandagainthemoonpeepedoutforaninstant,but
cloudsweredrivingoverthefaceofthesky,andjustaswecameoutonthemoorathinrainbeganto
fall.Thelightstillburnedsteadilyinfront.

"Areyouarmed?"Iasked.

"Ihaveahunting-crop."

"We must close in on him rapidly, for he is said to be a desperate fellow. We shall take him by

surpriseandhavehimatourmercybeforehecanresist."

"Isay,Watson,"saidthebaronet,"whatwouldHolmessaytothis?Howaboutthathourofdarkness

inwhichthepowerofevilisexalted?"

Asifinanswertohiswordsthererosesuddenlyoutofthevastgloomofthemoorthatstrangecry

whichIhadalreadyhearduponthebordersofthegreatGrimpenMire.Itcamewiththewindthrough
thesilenceofthenight,along,deepmutter,thenarisinghowl,andthenthesadmoaninwhichitdied
away. Again and again it sounded, the whole air throbbing with it, strident, wild, and menacing. The
baronetcaughtmysleeveandhisfaceglimmeredwhitethroughthedarkness.

"MyGod,what'sthat,Watson?"

"Idon'tknow.It'sasoundtheyhaveonthemoor.Ihearditoncebefore."

It died away, and an absolute silence closed in upon us. We stood straining our ears, but nothing

came.

"Watson,"saidthebaronet,"itwasthecryofahound."

Mybloodrancoldinmyveins,fortherewasabreakinhisvoicewhichtoldofthesuddenhorror

whichhadseizedhim.

"Whatdotheycallthissound?"heasked.

"Who?"

"Thefolkonthecountryside."

"Oh,theyareignorantpeople.Whyshouldyoumindwhattheycallit?"

"Tellme,Watson.Whatdotheysayofit?"

Ihesitatedbutcouldnotescapethequestion.

"TheysayitisthecryoftheHoundoftheBaskervilles."

Hegroanedandwassilentforafewmoments.

"Ahounditwas,"hesaidatlast,"butitseemedtocomefrommilesaway,overyonder,Ithink."

"Itwashardtosaywhenceitcame."

"Itroseandfellwiththewind.Isn'tthatthedirectionofthegreatGrimpenMire?"

"Yes,itis."

"Well,itwasupthere.Comenow,Watson,didn'tyouthinkyourselfthatitwasthecryofahound?I

amnotachild.Youneednotfeartospeakthetruth."

"StapletonwaswithmewhenIhearditlast.Hesaidthatitmightbethecallingofastrangebird."

"No,no,itwasahound.MyGod,cantherebesometruthinallthesestories?IsitpossiblethatIam

reallyindangerfromsodarkacause?Youdon'tbelieveit,doyou,Watson?"

"No,no."

"And yet it was one thing to laugh about it in London, and it is another to stand out here in the

darknessofthemoorandtohearsuchacryasthat.Andmyuncle!Therewasthefootprintofthehound
besidehimashelay.Itallfitstogether.Idon'tthinkthatIamacoward,Watson,butthatsoundseemed
tofreezemyveryblood.Feelmyhand!"

Itwasascoldasablockofmarble.

"You'llbeallrighttomorrow."

"Idon'tthinkI'llgetthatcryoutofmyhead.Whatdoyouadvisethatwedonow?"

"Shallweturnback?"

"No,bythunder;wehavecomeouttogetourman,andwewilldoit.Weaftertheconvict,andahell-

hound, as likely as not, after us. Come on! We'll see it through if all the fiends of the pit were loose
uponthemoor."

Westumbledslowlyalonginthedarkness,withtheblackloomofthecraggyhillsaroundus,andthe

yellowspeckoflightburningsteadilyinfront.Thereisnothingsodeceptiveasthedistanceofalight
upon a pitch-dark night, and sometimes the glimmer seemed to be far away upon the horizon and
sometimesitmighthavebeenwithinafewyardsofus.Butatlastwecouldseewhenceitcame,and
then we knew that we were indeed very close. A guttering candle was stuck in a crevice of the rocks
whichflankeditoneachsidesoastokeepthewindfromitandalsotopreventitfrombeingvisible,
saveinthedirectionofBaskervilleHall.Aboulderofgraniteconcealedourapproach,andcrouching
behinditwegazedoveritatthesignallight.Itwasstrangetoseethissinglecandleburningthereinthe
middleofthemoor,withnosignoflifenearit—justtheonestraightyellowflameandthegleamofthe
rockoneachsideofit.

"Whatshallwedonow?"whisperedSirHenry.

"Waithere.Hemustbenearhislight.Letusseeifwecangetaglimpseofhim."

The words were hardly out of my mouth when we both saw him. Over the rocks, in the crevice of

whichthecandleburned,therewasthrustoutanevilyellowface,aterribleanimalface,allseamedand
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
beneathhimwasreflectedinhissmall,cunningeyeswhichpeeredfiercelytorightandleftthroughthe
darknesslikeacraftyandsavageanimalwhohasheardthestepsofthehunters.

Somethinghadevidentlyarousedhissuspicions.ItmayhavebeenthatBarrymorehadsomeprivate

signalwhichwehadneglectedtogive,orthefellowmayhavehadsomeotherreasonforthinkingthat
allwasnotwell,butIcouldreadhisfearsuponhiswickedface.Anyinstanthemightdashoutthelight
andvanishinthedarkness.Isprangforwardtherefore,andSirHenrydidthesame.Atthesamemoment
theconvictscreamedoutacurseatusandhurledarockwhichsplinteredupagainsttheboulderwhich
hadshelteredus.Icaughtoneglimpseofhisshort,squat,stronglybuiltfigureashesprangtohisfeet
and turned to run. At the same moment by a lucky chance the moon broke through the clouds. We
rushedoverthebrowofthehill,andtherewasourmanrunningwithgreatspeeddowntheotherside,
springing over the stones in his way with the activity of a mountain goat. A lucky long shot of my
revolvermighthavecrippledhim,butIhadbroughtitonlytodefendmyselfifattackedandnottoshoot
anunarmedmanwhowasrunningaway.

Wewerebothswiftrunnersandinfairlygoodtraining,butwesoonfoundthatwehadnochanceof

overtakinghim.Wesawhimforalongtimeinthemoonlightuntilhewasonlyasmallspeckmoving
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,
whilewewatchedhimdisappearinginthedistance.

And it was at this moment that there occurred a most strange and unexpected thing. We had risen

fromourrocksandwereturningtogohome,havingabandonedthehopelesschase.Themoonwaslow
upon the right, and the jagged pinnacle of a granite tor stood up against the lower curve of its silver
disc.There,outlinedasblackasanebonystatueonthatshiningbackground,Isawthefigureofaman
uponthetor.Donotthinkthatitwasadelusion,Holmes.IassureyouthatIhaveneverinmylifeseen
anythingmoreclearly.AsfarasIcouldjudge,thefigurewasthatofatall,thinman.Hestoodwithhis
legs a little separated, his arms folded, his head bowed, as if he were brooding over that enormous
wildernessofpeatandgranitewhichlaybeforehim.Hemighthavebeentheveryspiritofthatterrible
place.Itwasnottheconvict.Thismanwasfarfromtheplacewherethelatterhaddisappeared.Besides,
he was a much taller man. With a cry of surprise I pointed him out to the baronet, but in the instant
duringwhichIhadturnedtograsphisarmthemanwasgone.Therewasthesharppinnacleofgranite
stillcuttingtheloweredgeofthemoon,butitspeakborenotraceofthatsilentandmotionlessfigure.

I wished to go in that direction and to search the tor, but it was some distance away. The baronet's

nerveswerestillquiveringfromthatcry,whichrecalledthedarkstoryofhisfamily,andhewasnotin
themoodforfreshadventures.Hehadnotseenthislonelymanuponthetorandcouldnotfeelthethrill
whichhisstrangepresenceandhiscommandingattitudehadgiventome."Awarder,nodoubt,"saidhe.
"Themoorhasbeenthickwiththemsincethisfellowescaped."Well,perhapshisexplanationmaybe
therightone,butIshouldliketohavesomefurtherproofofit.Todaywemeantocommunicatetothe
Princetownpeoplewheretheyshouldlookfortheirmissingman,butitishardlinesthatwehavenot
actually had the triumph of bringing him back as our own prisoner. Such are the adventures of last
night,andyoumustacknowledge,mydearHolmes,thatIhavedoneyouverywellinthematterofa
report.MuchofwhatItellyouisnodoubtquiteirrelevant,butstillIfeelthatitisbestthatIshouldlet
youhaveallthefactsandleaveyoutoselectforyourselfthosewhichwillbeofmostservicetoyouin
helpingyoutoyourconclusions.Wearecertainlymakingsomeprogress.SofarastheBarrymoresgo
wehavefoundthemotiveoftheiractions,andthathasclearedupthesituationverymuch.Butthemoor
withitsmysteriesanditsstrangeinhabitantsremainsasinscrutableasever.PerhapsinmynextImaybe
abletothrowsomelightuponthisalso.Bestofallwoulditbeifyoucouldcomedowntous.Inany
caseyouwillhearfrommeagaininthecourseofthenextfewdays.

Chapter10.ExtractfromtheDiaryofDr.Watson

SofarIhavebeenabletoquotefromthereportswhichIhaveforwardedduringtheseearlydaysto

Sherlock Holmes. Now, however, I have arrived at a point in my narrative where I am compelled to
abandonthismethodandtotrustoncemoretomyrecollections,aidedbythediarywhichIkeptatthe
time.Afewextractsfromthelatterwillcarrymeontothosesceneswhichareindeliblyfixedinevery
detail upon my memory. I proceed, then, from the morning which followed our abortive chase of the
convictandourotherstrangeexperiencesuponthemoor.

October16th.Adullandfoggydaywithadrizzleofrain.Thehouseisbankedinwithrollingclouds,

whichrisenowandthentoshowthedrearycurvesofthemoor,withthin,silverveinsuponthesidesof
thehills,andthedistantbouldersgleamingwherethelightstrikesupontheirwetfaces.Itismelancholy
outside and in. The baronet is in a black reaction after the excitements of the night. I am conscious
myselfofaweightatmyheartandafeelingofimpendingdanger—everpresentdanger,whichisthe
moreterriblebecauseIamunabletodefineit.

And have I not cause for such a feeling? Consider the long sequence of incidents which have all

pointedtosomesinisterinfluencewhichisatworkaroundus.Thereisthedeathofthelastoccupantof
theHall,fulfillingsoexactlytheconditionsofthefamilylegend,andtherearetherepeatedreportsfrom
peasantsoftheappearanceofastrangecreatureuponthemoor.TwiceIhavewithmyownearsheard
the sound which resembled the distant baying of a hound. It is incredible, impossible, that it should
reallybeoutsidetheordinarylawsofnature.Aspectralhoundwhichleavesmaterialfootmarksandfills
theairwithitshowlingissurelynottobethoughtof.Stapletonmayfallinwithsuchasuperstition,and
Mortimeralso,butifIhaveonequalityuponearthitiscommonsense,andnothingwillpersuademeto
believeinsuchathing.Todosowouldbetodescendtothelevelofthesepoorpeasants,whoarenot
contentwithamerefienddogbutmustneedsdescribehimwithhell-fireshootingfromhismouthand
eyes.Holmeswouldnotlistentosuchfancies,andIamhisagent.Butfactsarefacts,andIhavetwice
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
naturalexplanationoffersalmostasmanydifficultiesastheother.Andalways,apartfromthehound,
thereisthefactofthehumanagencyinLondon,themaninthecab,andtheletterwhichwarnedSir
Henryagainstthemoor.Thisatleastwasreal,butitmighthavebeentheworkofaprotectingfriendas
easily as of an enemy. Where is that friend or enemy now? Has he remained in London, or has he
followedusdownhere?Couldhe—couldhebethestrangerwhomIsawuponthetor?

ItistruethatIhavehadonlytheoneglanceathim,andyettherearesomethingstowhichIamready

toswear.HeisnoonewhomIhaveseendownhere,andIhavenowmetalltheneighbours.Thefigure
wasfartallerthanthatofStapleton,farthinnerthanthatofFrankland.Barrymoreitmightpossiblyhave
been, but we had left him behind 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 London. We have never shaken him off. If I
couldlaymyhandsuponthatman,thenatlastwemightfindourselvesattheendofallourdifficulties.
TothisonepurposeImustnowdevoteallmyenergies.

My first impulse was to tell Sir Henry all my plans. My second and wisest one is to play my own

gameandspeakaslittleaspossibletoanyone.Heissilentanddistrait.Hisnerveshavebeenstrangely
shakenbythatsounduponthemoor.Iwillsaynothingtoaddtohisanxieties,butIwilltakemyown
stepstoattainmyownend.

Wehadasmallscenethismorningafterbreakfast.BarrymoreaskedleavetospeakwithSirHenry,

andtheywereclosetedinhisstudysomelittletime.Sittinginthebilliard-roomImorethanonceheard
thesoundofvoicesraised,andIhadaprettygoodideawhatthepointwaswhichwasunderdiscussion.
After a time the baronet opened his door and called for me. "Barrymore considers that he has a
grievance,"hesaid."Hethinksthatitwasunfaironourparttohunthisbrother-in-lawdownwhenhe,
ofhisownfreewill,hadtoldusthesecret."

Thebutlerwasstandingverypalebutverycollectedbeforeus.

"Imayhavespokentoowarmly,sir,"saidhe,"andifIhave,IamsurethatIbegyourpardon.Atthe

same time, I was very much surprised when I heard you two gentlemen come back this morning and
learned that you had been chasing Selden. The poor fellow has enough to fight against without my
puttingmoreuponhistrack."

"Ifyouhadtoldusofyourownfreewillitwouldhavebeenadifferentthing,"saidthebaronet,"you

only told us, or rather your wife only told us, when it was forced from you and you could not help
yourself."

"Ididn'tthinkyouwouldhavetakenadvantageofit,SirHenry—indeedIdidn't."

"Themanisapublicdanger.Therearelonelyhousesscatteredoverthemoor,andheisafellowwho

wouldstickatnothing.Youonlywanttogetaglimpseofhisfacetoseethat.LookatMr.Stapleton's
house,forexample,withnoonebuthimselftodefendit.There'snosafetyforanyoneuntilheisunder
lockandkey."

"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
arrangementswillhavebeenmadeandhewillbeonhiswaytoSouthAmerica.ForGod'ssake,sir,I
begofyounottoletthepoliceknowthatheisstillonthemoor.Theyhavegivenupthechasethere,
andhecanliequietuntiltheshipisreadyforhim.Youcan'ttellonhimwithoutgettingmywifeandme
intotrouble.Ibegyou,sir,tosaynothingtothepolice."

"Whatdoyousay,Watson?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "If he were safely out of the country it would relieve the tax-payer of a

burden."

"Buthowaboutthechanceofhisholdingsomeoneupbeforehegoes?"

"Hewouldnotdoanythingsomad,sir.Wehaveprovidedhimwithallthathecanwant.Tocommita

crimewouldbetoshowwherehewashiding."

"Thatistrue,"saidSirHenry."Well,Barrymore—"

"God bless you, sir, and thank you from my heart! It would have killed my poor wife had he been

takenagain."

"Iguessweareaidingandabettingafelony,Watson?But,afterwhatwehaveheardIdon'tfeelasifI

couldgivethemanup,sothereisanendofit.Allright,Barrymore,youcango."

Withafewbrokenwordsofgratitudethemanturned,buthehesitatedandthencameback.

"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,SirHenry,andperhapsIshouldhavesaiditbefore,butitwaslongaftertheinquestthatI
founditout.I'veneverbreathedawordaboutityettomortalman.It'saboutpoorSirCharles'sdeath."

ThebaronetandIwerebothuponourfeet."Doyouknowhowhedied?"

"No,sir,Idon'tknowthat."

"Whatthen?"

"Iknowwhyhewasatthegateatthathour.Itwastomeetawoman."

"Tomeetawoman!He?"

"Yes,sir."

"Andthewoman'sname?"

"Ican'tgiveyouthename,sir,butIcangiveyoutheinitials.HerinitialswereL.L."

"Howdoyouknowthis,Barrymore?"

"Well,SirHenry,yourunclehadaletterthatmorning.Hehadusuallyagreatmanyletters,forhewas

apublicmanandwellknownforhiskindheart,sothateveryonewhowasintroublewasgladtoturnto
him.Butthatmorning,asitchanced,therewasonlythisoneletter,soItookthemorenoticeofit.Itwas
fromCoombeTracey,anditwasaddressedinawoman'shand."

"Well?"

"Well,sir,Ithoughtnomoreofthematter,andneverwouldhavedonehaditnotbeenformywife.

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
charredtopieces,butonelittleslip,theendofapage,hungtogether,andthewritingcouldstillberead,
thoughitwasgrayonablackground.Itseemedtoustobeapostscriptattheendoftheletterandit
said:'Please,please,asyouareagentleman,burnthisletter,andbeatthegatebytenoclock.Beneathit
weresignedtheinitialsL.L."

"Haveyougotthatslip?"

"No,sir,itcrumbledalltobitsafterwemovedit."

"HadSirCharlesreceivedanyotherlettersinthesamewriting?"

"Well, sir, I took no particular notice of his letters. I should not have noticed this one, only it

happenedtocomealone."

"AndyouhavenoideawhoL.L.is?"

"No,sir.Nomorethanyouhave.ButIexpectifwecouldlayourhandsuponthatladyweshould

knowmoreaboutSirCharles'sdeath."

"Icannotunderstand,Barrymore,howyoucametoconcealthisimportantinformation."

"Well,sir,itwasimmediatelyafterthatourowntroublecametous.Andthenagain,sir,wewereboth

ofusveryfondofSirCharles,aswewellmightbeconsideringallthathehasdoneforus.Torakethis
upcouldn'thelpourpoormaster,andit'swelltogocarefullywhenthere'saladyinthecase.Eventhe
bestofus—"

"Youthoughtitmightinjurehisreputation?"

"Well,sir,Ithoughtnogoodcouldcomeofit.Butnowyouhavebeenkindtous,andIfeelasifit

wouldbetreatingyouunfairlynottotellyouallthatIknowaboutthematter."

"Very good, Barrymore; you can go." When the butler had left us Sir Henry turned to me. "Well,

Watson,whatdoyouthinkofthisnewlight?"

"Itseemstoleavethedarknessratherblackerthanbefore."

"SoIthink.ButifwecanonlytraceL.L.itshouldclearupthewholebusiness.Wehavegainedthat

much.Weknowthatthereissomeonewhohasthefactsifwecanonlyfindher.Whatdoyouthinkwe
shoulddo?"

"LetHolmesknowallaboutitatonce.Itwillgivehimtheclueforwhichhehasbeenseeking.Iam

muchmistakenifitdoesnotbringhimdown."

Iwentatoncetomyroomanddrewupmyreportofthemorning'sconversationforHolmes.Itwas

evidenttomethathehadbeenverybusyoflate,forthenoteswhichIhadfromBakerStreetwerefew
andshort,withnocommentsupontheinformationwhichIhadsuppliedandhardlyanyreferencetomy
mission. No doubt his blackmailing case is absorbing all his faculties. And yet this new factor must
surelyarresthisattentionandrenewhisinterest.Iwishthathewerehere.

October17th.Alldaytodaytherainpoureddown,rustlingontheivyanddrippingfromtheeaves.I

thoughtoftheconvictoutuponthebleak,cold,shelterlessmoor.Poordevil!Whateverhiscrimes,he
hassufferedsomethingtoatoneforthem.AndthenIthoughtofthatotherone—thefaceinthecab,the
figureagainstthemoon.Washealsooutinthatdeluged—theunseenwatcher,themanofdarkness?In
theeveningIputonmywaterproofandIwalkedfaruponthesoddenmoor,fullofdarkimaginings,the
rainbeatinguponmyfaceandthewindwhistlingaboutmyears.Godhelpthosewhowanderintothe
greatmirenow,foreventhefirmuplandsarebecomingamorass.IfoundtheblacktoruponwhichI
had seen the solitary watcher, and from its craggy summit I looked out myself across the melancholy
downs.Rainsquallsdriftedacrosstheirrussetface,andtheheavy,slate-colouredcloudshunglowover
thelandscape,trailingingraywreathsdownthesidesofthefantastichills.Inthedistanthollowonthe
left,halfhiddenbythemist,thetwothintowersofBaskervilleHallroseabovethetrees.Theywerethe
onlysignsofhumanlifewhichIcouldsee,saveonlythoseprehistorichutswhichlaythicklyuponthe
slopesofthehills.NowherewasthereanytraceofthatlonelymanwhomIhadseenonthesamespot
twonightsbefore.

As I walked back I was overtaken by Dr. Mortimer driving in his dog-cart over a rough moorland

trackwhichledfromtheoutlyingfarmhouseofFoulmire.Hehasbeenveryattentivetous,andhardlya
dayhaspassedthathehasnotcalledattheHalltoseehowweweregettingon.Heinsisteduponmy
climbing into his dog-cart, and he gave me a lift homeward. I found him much troubled over the
disappearanceofhislittlespaniel.Ithadwanderedontothemoorandhadnevercomeback.Igavehim
suchconsolationasImight,butIthoughtoftheponyontheGrimpenMire,andIdonotfancythathe
willseehislittledogagain.

"By the way, Mortimer," said I as we jolted along the rough road, "I suppose there are few people

livingwithindrivingdistanceofthiswhomyoudonotknow?"

"Hardlyany,Ithink."

"Canyou,then,tellmethenameofanywomanwhoseinitialsareL.L.?"

Hethoughtforafewminutes.

"No,"saidhe."ThereareafewgipsiesandlabouringfolkforwhomIcan'tanswer,butamongthe

farmersorgentrythereisnoonewhoseinitialsarethose.Waitabitthough,"headdedafterapause.
"ThereisLauraLyons—herinitialsareL.L.—butshelivesinCoombeTracey."

"Whoisshe?"Iasked.

"SheisFrankland'sdaughter."

"What!OldFranklandthecrank?"

"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
fatherrefusedtohaveanythingtodowithherbecauseshehadmarriedwithouthisconsentandperhaps
foroneortwootherreasonsaswell.So,betweentheoldsinnerandtheyoungonethegirlhashada
prettybadtime."

"Howdoesshelive?"

"I fancy old Frankland allows her a pittance, but it cannot be more, for his own affairs are

considerablyinvolved.Whatevershemayhavedeservedonecouldnotallowhertogohopelesslytothe
bad.Herstorygotabout,andseveralofthepeopleheredidsomethingtoenablehertoearnanhonest
living.Stapletondidforone,andSirCharlesforanother.Igaveatriflemyself.Itwastosetherupina
typewritingbusiness."

Hewantedtoknowtheobjectofmyinquiries,butImanagedtosatisfyhiscuriositywithouttelling

him too much, for there is no reason why we should take anyone into our confidence. Tomorrow
morningIshallfindmywaytoCoombeTracey,andifIcanseethisMrs.LauraLyons,ofequivocal
reputation,alongstepwillhavebeenmadetowardsclearingoneincidentinthischainofmysteries.I
am certainly developing the wisdom of the serpent, for when Mortimer pressed his questions to an
inconvenientextentIaskedhimcasuallytowhattypeFrankland'sskullbelonged,andsoheardnothing
butcraniologyfortherestofourdrive.IhavenotlivedforyearswithSherlockHolmesfornothing.

I have only one other incident to record upon this tempestuous and melancholy day. This was my

conversationwithBarrymorejustnow,whichgivesmeonemorestrongcardwhichIcanplayindue
time.

Mortimerhadstayedtodinner,andheandthebaronetplayedecarteafterwards.Thebutlerbrought

memycoffeeintothelibrary,andItookthechancetoaskhimafewquestions.

"Well,"saidI,"hasthispreciousrelationofyoursdeparted,orishestilllurkingoutyonder?"

"Idon'tknow,sir.Ihopetoheaventhathehasgone,forhehasbroughtnothingbuttroublehere!I've

notheardofhimsinceIleftoutfoodforhimlast,andthatwasthreedaysago."

"Didyouseehimthen?"

"No,sir,butthefoodwasgonewhennextIwentthatway."

"Thenhewascertainlythere?"

"Soyouwouldthink,sir,unlessitwastheothermanwhotookit."

Isatwithmycoffee-cuphalfwaytomylipsandstaredatBarrymore.

"Youknowthatthereisanothermanthen?"

"Yes,sir;thereisanothermanuponthemoor."

"Haveyouseenhim?"

"No,sir."

"Howdoyouknowofhimthen?"

"Seldentoldmeofhim,sir,aweekagoormore.He'sinhiding,too,buthe'snotaconvictasfarasI

canmakeout.Idon'tlikeit,Dr.Watson—Itellyoustraight,sir,thatIdon'tlikeit."Hespokewitha
suddenpassionofearnestness.

"Now,listentome,Barrymore!Ihavenointerestinthismatterbutthatofyourmaster.Ihavecome

herewithnoobjectexcepttohelphim.Tellme,frankly,whatitisthatyoudon'tlike."

Barrymorehesitatedforamoment,asifheregrettedhisoutburstorfounditdifficulttoexpresshis

ownfeelingsinwords.

"It'sallthesegoings-on,sir,"hecriedatlast,wavinghishandtowardstherain-lashedwindowwhich

facedthemoor."There'sfoulplaysomewhere,andthere'sblackvillainybrewing,tothatI'llswear!Very
gladIshouldbe,sir,toseeSirHenryonhiswaybacktoLondonagain!"

"Butwhatisitthatalarmsyou?"

"LookatSirCharles'sdeath!Thatwasbadenough,forallthatthecoronersaid.Lookatthenoiseson

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 watching and waiting! What's he waiting for? What does it mean? It
meansnogoodtoanyoneofthenameofBaskerville,andverygladIshallbetobequitofitallonthe
daythatSirHenry'snewservantsarereadytotakeovertheHall."

"Butaboutthisstranger,"saidI."Canyoutellmeanythingabouthim?WhatdidSeldensay?Didhe

findoutwherehehid,orwhathewasdoing?"

"Hesawhimonceortwice,butheisadeeponeandgivesnothingaway.Atfirsthethoughtthathe

wasthepolice,butsoonhefoundthathehadsomelayofhisown.Akindofgentlemanhewas,asfar
ashecouldsee,butwhathewasdoinghecouldnotmakeout."

"Andwheredidhesaythathelived?"

"Amongtheoldhousesonthehillside—thestonehutswheretheoldfolkusedtolive."

"Buthowabouthisfood?"

"Seldenfoundoutthathehasgotaladwhoworksforhimandbringsallheneeds.Idaresayhegoes

toCoombeTraceyforwhathewants."

"Very good, Barrymore. We may talk further of this some other time." When the butler had gone I

walkedovertotheblackwindow,andIlookedthroughablurredpaneatthedrivingcloudsandatthe
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 purpose can he have which calls for such a trial! There, in that hut
uponthemoor,seemstolietheverycentreofthatproblemwhichhasvexedmesosorely.Iswearthat
another day shall not have passed before I have done all that man can do to reach the heart of the
mystery.

Chapter11.TheManontheTor

The extract from my private diary which forms the last chapter has brought my narrative up to the

eighteenth of October, a time when these strange events began to move swiftly towards their terrible
conclusion.Theincidentsofthenextfewdaysareindeliblygravenuponmyrecollection,andIcantell
themwithoutreferencetothenotesmadeatthetime.Istartthemfromthedaywhichsucceededthat
uponwhichIhadestablishedtwofactsofgreatimportance,theonethatMrs.LauraLyonsofCoombe
TraceyhadwrittentoSirCharlesBaskervilleandmadeanappointmentwithhimattheveryplaceand
hour that he met his death, the other that the lurking man upon the moor was to be found among the
stonehutsuponthehillside.WiththesetwofactsinmypossessionIfeltthateithermyintelligenceor
mycouragemustbedeficientifIcouldnotthrowsomefurtherlightuponthesedarkplaces.

IhadnoopportunitytotellthebaronetwhatIhadlearnedaboutMrs.Lyonsupontheeveningbefore,

forDr.Mortimerremainedwithhimatcardsuntilitwasverylate.Atbreakfast,however,Iinformed
himaboutmydiscoveryandaskedhimwhetherhewouldcaretoaccompanymetoCoombeTracey.At
firsthewasveryeagertocome,butonsecondthoughtsitseemedtobothofusthatifIwentalonethe
resultsmightbebetter.Themoreformalwemadethevisitthelessinformationwemightobtain.Ileft
Sir Henry behind, therefore, not without some prickings of conscience, and drove off upon my new
quest.

WhenIreachedCoombeTraceyItoldPerkinstoputupthehorses,andImadeinquiriesforthelady

whomIhadcometointerrogate.Ihadnodifficultyinfindingherrooms,whichwerecentralandwell
appointed.Amaidshowedmeinwithoutceremony,andasIenteredthesitting-roomalady,whowas
sitting before a Remington typewriter, sprang up with a pleasant smile of welcome. Her face fell,
however,whenshesawthatIwasastranger,andshesatdownagainandaskedmetheobjectofmy
visit.

The first impression left by Mrs. Lyons was one of extreme beauty. Her eyes and hair were of the

samerichhazelcolour,andhercheeks,thoughconsiderablyfreckled,wereflushedwiththeexquisite
bloomofthebrunette,thedaintypinkwhichlurksattheheartofthesulphurrose.Admirationwas,I
repeat,thefirstimpression.Butthesecondwascriticism.Therewassomethingsubtlywrongwiththe
face, some coarseness of expression, some hardness, perhaps, of eye, some looseness of lip which
marreditsperfectbeauty.Butthese,ofcourse,areafterthoughts.AtthemomentIwassimplyconscious
thatIwasinthepresenceofaveryhandsomewoman,andthatshewasaskingmethereasonsformy
visit.Ihadnotquiteunderstooduntilthatinstanthowdelicatemymissionwas.

"Ihavethepleasure,"saidI,"ofknowingyourfather."

Itwasaclumsyintroduction,andtheladymademefeelit."Thereisnothingincommonbetweenmy

fatherandme,"shesaid."Iowehimnothing,andhisfriendsarenotmine.IfitwerenotforthelateSir
CharlesBaskervilleandsomeotherkindheartsImighthavestarvedforallthatmyfathercared."

"ItwasaboutthelateSirCharlesBaskervillethatIhavecomeheretoseeyou."

Thefrecklesstartedoutonthelady'sface.

"WhatcanItellyouabouthim?"sheasked,andherfingersplayednervouslyoverthestopsofher

typewriter.

"Youknewhim,didyounot?"

"IhavealreadysaidthatIoweagreatdealtohiskindness.IfIamabletosupportmyselfitislargely

duetotheinterestwhichhetookinmyunhappysituation."

"Didyoucorrespondwithhim?"

Theladylookedquicklyupwithanangrygleaminherhazeleyes.

"Whatistheobjectofthesequestions?"sheaskedsharply.

"Theobjectistoavoidapublicscandal.ItisbetterthatIshouldaskthemherethanthatthematter

shouldpassoutsideourcontrol."

She was silent and her face was still very pale. At last she looked up with something reckless and

defiantinhermanner.

"Well,I'llanswer,"shesaid."Whatareyourquestions?"

"DidyoucorrespondwithSirCharles?"

"Icertainlywrotetohimonceortwicetoacknowledgehisdelicacyandhisgenerosity."

"Haveyouthedatesofthoseletters?"

"No."

"Haveyouevermethim?"

"Yes,onceortwice,whenhecameintoCoombeTracey.Hewasaveryretiringman,andhepreferred

todogoodbystealth."

"Butifyousawhimsoseldomandwrotesoseldom,howdidheknowenoughaboutyouraffairsto

beabletohelpyou,asyousaythathehasdone?"

Shemetmydifficultywiththeutmostreadiness.

"There were several gentlemen who knew my sad history and united to help me. One was Mr.

Stapleton,aneighbourandintimatefriendofSirCharles's.Hewasexceedinglykind,anditwasthrough
himthatSirCharleslearnedaboutmyaffairs."

IknewalreadythatSirCharlesBaskervillehadmadeStapletonhisalmoneruponseveraloccasions,

sothelady'sstatementboretheimpressoftruthuponit.

"DidyoueverwritetoSirCharlesaskinghimtomeetyou?"Icontinued.

Mrs.Lyonsflushedwithangeragain."Really,sir,thisisaveryextraordinaryquestion."

"Iamsorry,madam,butImustrepeatit."

"ThenIanswer,certainlynot."

"NotontheverydayofSirCharles'sdeath?"

Theflushhadfadedinaninstant,andadeathlyfacewasbeforeme.Herdrylipscouldnotspeakthe

"No"whichIsawratherthanheard.

"Surely your memory deceives you," said I. "I could even quote a passage of your letter. It ran

'Please,please,asyouareagentleman,burnthisletter,andbeatthegatebyteno'clock.'"

Ithoughtthatshehadfainted,butsherecoveredherselfbyasupremeeffort.

"Istherenosuchthingasagentleman?"shegasped.

"YoudoSirCharlesaninjustice.Hedidburntheletter.Butsometimesalettermaybelegibleeven

whenburned.Youacknowledgenowthatyouwroteit?"

"Yes,Ididwriteit,"shecried,pouringouthersoulinatorrentofwords."Ididwriteit.WhyshouldI

deny it? I have no reason to be ashamed of it. I wished him to help me. I believed that if I had an
interviewIcouldgainhishelp,soIaskedhimtomeetme."

"Butwhyatsuchanhour?"

"Because I had only just learned that he was going to London next day and might be away for

months.TherewerereasonswhyIcouldnotgetthereearlier."

"Butwhyarendezvousinthegardeninsteadofavisittothehouse?"

"Doyouthinkawomancouldgoaloneatthathourtoabachelor'shouse?"

"Well,whathappenedwhenyoudidgetthere?"

"Ineverwent."

"Mrs.Lyons!"

"No,IswearittoyouonallIholdsacred.Ineverwent.Somethingintervenedtopreventmygoing."

"Whatwasthat?"

"Thatisaprivatematter.Icannottellit."

"YouacknowledgethenthatyoumadeanappointmentwithSirCharlesattheveryhourandplaceat

whichhemethisdeath,butyoudenythatyoukepttheappointment."

"Thatisthetruth."

AgainandagainIcross-questionedher,butIcouldnevergetpastthatpoint.

"Mrs.Lyons,"saidIasIrosefromthislongandinconclusiveinterview,"youaretakingaverygreat

responsibilityandputtingyourselfinaveryfalsepositionbynotmakinganabsolutelycleanbreastof
all that you know. If I have to call in the aid of the police you will find how seriously you are
compromised.Ifyourpositionisinnocent,whydidyouinthefirstinstancedenyhavingwrittentoSir
Charlesuponthatdate?"

"Because I feared that some false conclusion might be drawn from it and that I might find myself

involvedinascandal."

"AndwhywereyousopressingthatSirCharlesshoulddestroyyourletter?"

"Ifyouhavereadtheletteryouwillknow."

"IdidnotsaythatIhadreadalltheletter."

"Youquotedsomeofit."

"I quoted the postscript. The letter had, as I said, been burned and it was not all legible. I ask you

once again why it was that you were so pressing that Sir Charles should destroy this letter which he
receivedonthedayofhisdeath."

"Thematterisaveryprivateone."

"Themorereasonwhyyoushouldavoidapublicinvestigation."

"Iwilltellyou,then.IfyouhaveheardanythingofmyunhappyhistoryyouwillknowthatImadea

rashmarriageandhadreasontoregretit."

"Ihaveheardsomuch."

"MylifehasbeenoneincessantpersecutionfromahusbandwhomIabhor.Thelawisuponhisside,

andeverydayIamfacedbythepossibilitythathemayforcemetolivewithhim.AtthetimethatI
wrotethislettertoSirCharlesIhadlearnedthattherewasaprospectofmyregainingmyfreedomif
certain expenses could be met. It meant everything to me—peace of mind, happiness, self-respect—
everything.IknewSirCharles'sgenerosity,andIthoughtthatifheheardthestoryfrommyownlipshe
wouldhelpme."

"Thenhowisitthatyoudidnotgo?"

"BecauseIreceivedhelpintheintervalfromanothersource."

"Whythen,didyounotwritetoSirCharlesandexplainthis?"

"SoIshouldhavedonehadInotseenhisdeathinthepapernextmorning."

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
aboutthetimeofthetragedy.

ItwasunlikelythatshewoulddaretosaythatshehadnotbeentoBaskervilleHallifshereallyhad

been,foratrapwouldbenecessarytotakeherthere,andcouldnothavereturnedtoCoombeTracey
untiltheearlyhoursofthemorning.Suchanexcursioncouldnotbekeptsecret.Theprobabilitywas,
therefore, that she was telling the truth, or, at least, a part of the truth. I came away baffled and
disheartened.Once again Ihad reached thatdead wall which seemedto be builtacross every path by
whichItriedtogetattheobjectofmymission.AndyetthemoreIthoughtofthelady'sfaceandofher
mannerthemoreIfeltthatsomethingwasbeingheldbackfromme.Whyshouldsheturnsopale?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
wouldhavemebelieve.ForthemomentIcouldproceednofartherinthatdirection,butmustturnback
tothatothercluewhichwastobesoughtforamongthestonehutsuponthemoor.

Andthatwasamostvaguedirection.IrealizeditasIdrovebackandnotedhowhillafterhillshowed

tracesoftheancientpeople.Barrymore'sonlyindicationhadbeenthatthestrangerlivedinoneofthese
abandoned huts, and many hundreds of them are scattered throughout the length and breadth of the
moor.ButIhadmyownexperienceforaguidesinceithadshownmethemanhimselfstandingupon
thesummitoftheBlackTor.That,then,shouldbethecentreofmysearch.FromthereIshouldexplore
everyhutuponthemooruntilIlightedupontherightone.IfthismanwereinsideitIshouldfindout
fromhisownlips,atthepointofmyrevolverifnecessary,whohewasandwhyhehaddoggedusso
long.HemightslipawayfromusinthecrowdofRegentStreet,butitwouldpuzzlehimtodosoupon
thelonelymoor.Ontheotherhand,ifIshouldfindthehutanditstenantshouldnotbewithinitImust
remain there, however long the vigil, until he returned. Holmes had missed him in London. It would
indeedbeatriumphformeifIcouldrunhimtoearthwheremymasterhadfailed.

Luckhadbeenagainstusagainandagaininthisinquiry,butnowatlastitcametomyaid.Andthe

messengerofgoodfortunewasnoneotherthanMr.Frankland,whowasstanding,gray-whiskeredand
red-faced,outsidethegateofhisgarden,whichopenedontothehighroadalongwhichItravelled.

"Good-day,Dr.Watson,"criedhewithunwontedgoodhumour,"youmustreallygiveyourhorsesa

restandcomeintohaveaglassofwineandtocongratulateme."

MyfeelingstowardshimwereveryfarfrombeingfriendlyafterwhatIhadheardofhistreatmentof

his daughter, but I was anxious to send Perkins and the wagonette home, and the opportunity was a
goodone.IalightedandsentamessagetoSirHenrythatIshouldwalkoverintimefordinner.ThenI
followedFranklandintohisdining-room.

"Itisagreatdayforme,sir—oneofthered-letterdaysofmylife,"hecriedwithmanychuckles."I

havebroughtoffadoubleevent.Imeantoteachtheminthesepartsthatlawislaw,andthatthereisa
man here who does not fear to invoke it. I have established a right of way through the centre of old
Middleton'spark,slapacrossit,sir,withinahundredyardsofhisownfrontdoor.Whatdoyouthinkof
that? We'll teach these magnates that they cannot ride roughshod over the rights of the commoners,
confound them! And I've closed the wood where the Fernworthy folk used to picnic. These infernal
peopleseemtothinkthattherearenorightsofproperty,andthattheycanswarmwheretheylikewith
theirpapersandtheirbottles.Bothcasesdecided,Dr.Watson,andbothinmyfavour.Ihaven'thadsuch
adaysinceIhadSirJohnMorlandfortrespassbecauseheshotinhisownwarren."

"Howonearthdidyoudothat?"

"Lookitupinthebooks,sir.Itwillrepayreading—Franklandv.Morland,CourtofQueen'sBench.It

costme200pounds,butIgotmyverdict."

"Diditdoyouanygood?"

"None,sir,none.IamproudtosaythatIhadnointerestinthematter.Iactentirelyfromasenseof

publicduty.Ihavenodoubt,forexample,thattheFernworthypeoplewillburnmeineffigytonight.I
told the police last time they did it that they should stop these disgraceful exhibitions. The County
Constabulary is in a scandalous state, sir, and it has not afforded me the protection to which I am
entitled.ThecaseofFranklandv.Reginawillbringthematterbeforetheattentionofthepublic.Itold
themthattheywouldhaveoccasiontoregrettheirtreatmentofme,andalreadymywordshavecome
true."

"Howso?"Iasked.

The old man put on a very knowing expression. "Because I could tell them what they are dying to

know;butnothingwouldinducemetohelptherascalsinanyway."

IhadbeencastingroundforsomeexcusebywhichIcouldgetawayfromhisgossip,butnowIbegan

towishtohearmoreofit.Ihadseenenoughofthecontrarynatureoftheoldsinnertounderstandthat
anystrongsignofinterestwouldbethesurestwaytostophisconfidences.

"Somepoachingcase,nodoubt?"saidIwithanindifferentmanner.

"Ha,ha,myboy,averymuchmoreimportantmatterthanthat!Whatabouttheconvictonthemoor?"

Istared."Youdon'tmeanthatyouknowwhereheis?"saidI.

"Imaynotknowexactlywhereheis,butIamquitesurethatIcouldhelpthepolicetolaytheirhands

onhim.Hasitneverstruckyouthatthewaytocatchthatmanwastofindoutwherehegothisfoodand
sotraceittohim?"

Hecertainlyseemedtobegettinguncomfortablynearthetruth."Nodoubt,"saidI;"buthowdoyou

knowthatheisanywhereuponthemoor?"

"IknowitbecauseIhaveseenwithmyowneyesthemessengerwhotakeshimhisfood."

MyheartsankforBarrymore.Itwasaseriousthingtobeinthepowerofthisspitefuloldbusybody.

Buthisnextremarktookaweightfrommymind.

"You'llbesurprisedtohearthathisfoodistakentohimbyachild.Iseehimeverydaythroughmy

telescope upon the roof. He passes along the same path at the same hour, and to whom should he be
goingexcepttotheconvict?"

Herewasluckindeed!AndyetIsuppressedallappearanceofinterest.Achild!Barrymorehadsaid

thatourunknownwassuppliedbyaboy.Itwasonhistrack,andnotupontheconvict's,thatFrankland
hadstumbled.IfIcouldgethisknowledgeitmightsavemealongandwearyhunt.Butincredulityand
indifferencewereevidentlymystrongestcards.

"Ishouldsaythatitwasmuchmorelikelythatitwasthesonofoneofthemoorlandshepherdstaking

outhisfather'sdinner."

Theleastappearanceofoppositionstruckfireoutoftheoldautocrat.Hiseyeslookedmalignantlyat

me,andhisgraywhiskersbristledlikethoseofanangrycat.

"Indeed,sir!"saidhe,pointingoutoverthewide-stretchingmoor."DoyouseethatBlackTorover

yonder?Well,doyouseethelowhillbeyondwiththethornbushuponit?Itisthestoniestpartofthe
wholemoor.Isthataplacewhereashepherdwouldbelikelytotakehisstation?Yoursuggestion,sir,is
amostabsurdone."

ImeeklyansweredthatIhadspokenwithoutknowingallthefacts.Mysubmissionpleasedhimand

ledhimtofurtherconfidences.

"Youmaybesure,sir,thatIhaveverygoodgroundsbeforeIcometoanopinion.Ihaveseentheboy

againandagainwithhisbundle.Everyday,andsometimestwiceaday,Ihavebeenable—butwaita
moment, Dr. Watson. Do my eyes deceive me, or is there at the present moment something moving
uponthathillside?"

Itwasseveralmilesoff,butIcoulddistinctlyseeasmalldarkdotagainstthedullgreenandgray.

"Come,sir,come!"criedFrankland,rushingupstairs."Youwillseewithyourowneyesandjudgefor

yourself."

Thetelescope,aformidableinstrumentmounteduponatripod,stoodupontheflatleadsofthehouse.

Franklandclappedhiseyetoitandgaveacryofsatisfaction.

"Quick,Dr.Watson,quick,beforehepassesoverthehill!"

Therehewas,sureenough,asmallurchinwithalittlebundleuponhisshoulder,toilingslowlyupthe

hill.WhenhereachedthecrestIsawtheraggeduncouthfigureoutlinedforaninstantagainstthecold
blue sky. He looked round him with a furtive and stealthy air, as one who dreads pursuit. Then he
vanishedoverthehill.

"Well!AmIright?"

"Certainly,thereisaboywhoseemstohavesomesecreterrand."

"Andwhattheerrandisevenacountyconstablecouldguess.Butnotonewordshalltheyhavefrom

me,andIbindyoutosecrecyalso,Dr.Watson.Notaword!Youunderstand!"

"Justasyouwish."

"They have treated me shamefully—shamefully. When the facts come out in Frankland v. Regina I

ventureto think thata thrill ofindignation will run throughthe country. Nothingwould induce me to
helpthepoliceinanyway.Foralltheycareditmighthavebeenme,insteadofmyeffigy,whichthese
rascalsburnedatthestake.Surelyyouarenotgoing!Youwillhelpmetoemptythedecanterinhonour
ofthisgreatoccasion!"

ButIresistedallhissolicitationsandsucceededindissuadinghimfromhisannouncedintentionof

walkinghomewithme.Ikepttheroadaslongashiseyewasonme,andthenIstruckoffacrossthe
moorandmadeforthestonyhilloverwhichtheboyhaddisappeared.Everythingwasworkinginmy
favour,andIsworethatitshouldnotbethroughlackofenergyorperseverancethatIshouldmissthe
chancewhichfortunehadthrowninmyway.

ThesunwasalreadysinkingwhenIreachedthesummitofthehill,andthelongslopesbeneathme

wereallgolden-greenononesideandgrayshadowontheother.Ahazelaylowuponthefarthestsky-
line,outofwhichjuttedthefantasticshapesofBelliverandVixenTor.Overthewideexpansetherewas
nosoundandnomovement.Onegreatgraybird,agullorcurlew,soaredaloftintheblueheaven.He
andIseemedtobetheonlylivingthingsbetweenthehugearchoftheskyandthedesertbeneathit.The
barrenscene,thesenseofloneliness,andthemysteryandurgencyofmytaskallstruckachillintomy
heart.Theboywasnowheretobeseen.Butdownbeneathmeinacleftofthehillstherewasacircleof
the old stone huts, and in the middle of them there was one which retained sufficient roof to act as a
screenagainsttheweather.MyheartleapedwithinmeasIsawit.Thismustbetheburrowwherethe
stranger lurked. At last my foot was on the threshold of his hiding place—his secret was within my
grasp.

AsIapproachedthehut,walkingaswarilyasStapletonwoulddowhenwithpoisednethedrewnear

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.Theunknownmightbelurkingthere,orhemightbeprowlingonthemoor.Mynervestingled
with the sense of adventure. Throwing aside my cigarette, I closed my hand upon the butt of my
revolverand,walkingswiftlyuptothedoor,Ilookedin.Theplacewasempty.

ButtherewereamplesignsthatIhadnotcomeuponafalsescent.Thiswascertainlywheretheman

lived.SomeblanketsrolledinawaterprooflayuponthatverystoneslabuponwhichNeolithicmanhad
onceslumbered.Theashesofafirewereheapedinarudegrate.Besideitlaysomecookingutensilsand
a bucket half-full of water. A litter of empty tins showed that the place had been occupied for some
time,andIsaw,asmyeyesbecameaccustomedtothecheckeredlight,apannikinandahalf-fullbottle
ofspiritsstandinginthecorner.Inthemiddleofthehutaflatstoneservedthepurposeofatable,and
uponthisstoodasmallclothbundle—thesame,nodoubt,whichIhadseenthroughthetelescopeupon
theshoulderoftheboy.Itcontainedaloafofbread,atinnedtongue,andtwotinsofpreservedpeaches.
AsIsetitdownagain,afterhavingexaminedit,myheartleapedtoseethatbeneathittherelayasheet
of paper with writing upon it. I raised it, and this was what I read, roughly scrawled in pencil: "Dr.
WatsonhasgonetoCoombeTracey."

ForaminuteIstoodtherewiththepaperinmyhandsthinkingoutthemeaningofthiscurtmessage.

ItwasI,then,andnotSirHenry,whowasbeingdoggedbythissecretman.Hehadnotfollowedme
himself,buthehadsetanagent—theboy,perhaps—uponmytrack,andthiswashisreport.PossiblyI
hadtakennostepsinceIhadbeenuponthemoorwhichhadnotbeenobservedandreported.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 only at some supreme moment that one realized that one was indeed
entangledinitsmeshes.

Iftherewasonereporttheremightbeothers,soIlookedroundthehutinsearchofthem.Therewas

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
habits 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 immutable must be the purpose which had kept him in that
inhospitableabode.Washeourmalignantenemy,orwashebychanceourguardianangel?Isworethat
IwouldnotleavethehutuntilIknew.

Outside the sun was sinking low and the west was blazing with scarlet and gold. Its reflection was

shotbackinruddypatchesbythedistantpoolswhichlayamidthegreatGrimpenMire.Therewerethe
twotowersofBaskervilleHall,andthereadistantblurofsmokewhichmarkedthevillageofGrimpen.
Between the two, behind the hill, was the house of the Stapletons. All was sweet and mellow and
peacefulinthegoldeneveninglight,andyetasIlookedatthemmysoulsharednoneofthepeaceof
Naturebutquiveredatthevaguenessandtheterrorofthatinterviewwhicheveryinstantwasbringing
nearer. With tingling nerves but a fixed purpose, I sat in the dark recess of the hut and waited with
sombrepatienceforthecomingofitstenant.

And then at last I heard him. Far away came the sharp clink of a boot striking upon a stone. Then

anotherandyetanother,comingnearerandnearer.Ishrankbackintothedarkestcornerandcockedthe
pistolinmypocket,determinednottodiscovermyselfuntilIhadanopportunityofseeingsomethingof
thestranger.Therewasalongpausewhichshowedthathehadstopped.Thenoncemorethefootsteps
approachedandashadowfellacrosstheopeningofthehut.

"It is a lovely evening, my dear Watson," said a well-known voice. "I really think that you will be

morecomfortableoutsidethanin."

Chapter12.DeathontheMoor

ForamomentortwoIsatbreathless,hardlyabletobelievemyears.Thenmysensesandmyvoice

camebacktome,whileacrushingweightofresponsibilityseemedinaninstanttobeliftedfrommy
soul.Thatcold,incisive,ironicalvoicecouldbelongtobutonemaninalltheworld.

"Holmes!"Icried—"Holmes!"

"Comeout,"saidhe,"andpleasebecarefulwiththerevolver."

I stooped under the rude lintel, and there he sat upon a stone outside, his gray eyes dancing with

amusementastheyfelluponmyastonishedfeatures.Hewasthinandworn,butclearandalert,hiskeen
facebronzedbythesunandroughenedbythewind.Inhistweedsuitandclothcaphelookedlikeany
othertouristuponthemoor,andhehadcontrived,withthatcatlikeloveofpersonalcleanlinesswhich
wasoneofhischaracteristics,thathischinshouldbeassmoothandhislinenasperfectasifhewerein
BakerStreet.

"Ineverwasmoregladtoseeanyoneinmylife,"saidIasIwrunghimbythehand.

"Ormoreastonished,eh?"

"Well,Imustconfesstoit."

"Thesurprisewasnotallononeside,Iassureyou.Ihadnoideathatyouhadfoundmyoccasional

retreat,stilllessthatyouwereinsideit,untilIwaswithintwentypacesofthedoor."

"Myfootprint,Ipresume?"

"No,Watson,IfearthatIcouldnotundertaketorecognizeyourfootprintamidallthefootprintsof

theworld.Ifyouseriouslydesiretodeceivemeyoumustchangeyourtobacconist;forwhenIseethe
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 supreme
momentwhenyouchargedintotheemptyhut."

"Exactly."

"Ithoughtasmuch—andknowingyouradmirabletenacityIwasconvincedthatyouweresittingin

ambush,aweaponwithinreach,waitingforthetenanttoreturn.SoyouactuallythoughtthatIwasthe
criminal?"

"Ididnotknowwhoyouwere,butIwasdeterminedtofindout."

"Excellent,Watson!Andhowdidyoulocalizeme?Yousawme,perhaps,onthenightoftheconvict

hunt,whenIwassoimprudentastoallowthemoontorisebehindme?"

"Yes,Isawyouthen."

"Andhavenodoubtsearchedallthehutsuntilyoucametothisone?"

"No,yourboyhadbeenobserved,andthatgavemeaguidewheretolook."

"Theoldgentlemanwiththetelescope,nodoubt.IcouldnotmakeitoutwhenfirstIsawthelight

flashinguponthelens."Heroseandpeepedintothehut."Ha,IseethatCartwrighthasbroughtupsome
supplies.What'sthispaper?SoyouhavebeentoCoombeTracey,haveyou?"

"Yes."

"ToseeMrs.LauraLyons?"

"Exactly."

"Well done! Our researches have evidently been running on parallel lines, and when we unite our

resultsIexpectweshallhaveafairlyfullknowledgeofthecase."

"Well,Iamgladfrommyheartthatyouarehere,forindeedtheresponsibilityandthemysterywere

bothbecomingtoomuchformynerves.Buthowinthenameofwonderdidyoucomehere,andwhat
haveyoubeendoing?IthoughtthatyouwereinBakerStreetworkingoutthatcaseofblackmailing."

"ThatwaswhatIwishedyoutothink."

"Then you use me, and yet do not trust me!" I cried with some bitterness. "I think that I have

deservedbetteratyourhands,Holmes."

"Mydearfellow,youhavebeeninvaluabletomeinthisasinmanyothercases,andIbegthatyou

willforgivemeifIhaveseemedtoplayatrickuponyou.Intruth,itwaspartlyforyourownsakethatI
didit,anditwasmyappreciationofthedangerwhichyouranwhichledmetocomedownandexamine
thematterformyself.HadIbeenwithSirHenryandyouitisconfidentthatmypointofviewwould
havebeenthesameasyours,andmypresencewouldhavewarnedourveryformidableopponentstobe
ontheirguard.Asitis,IhavebeenabletogetaboutasIcouldnotpossiblyhavedonehadIbeenliving
intheHall,andIremainanunknownfactorinthebusiness,readytothrowinallmyweightatacritical
moment."

"Butwhykeepmeinthedark?"

"Foryoutoknowcouldnothavehelpedusandmightpossiblyhaveledtomydiscovery.Youwould

havewishedtotellmesomething,orinyourkindnessyouwouldhavebroughtmeoutsomecomfortor
other,andsoanunnecessaryriskwouldberun.IbroughtCartwrightdownwithme—yourememberthe
little chap at the express office—and he has seen after my simple wants: a loaf of bread and a clean
collar.Whatdoesmanwantmore?Hehasgivenmeanextrapairofeyesuponaveryactivepairoffeet,
andbothhavebeeninvaluable."

"Then my reports have all been wasted!"—My voice trembled as I recalled the pains and the pride

withwhichIhadcomposedthem.

Holmestookabundleofpapersfromhispocket.

"Here are your reports, my dear fellow, and very well thumbed, I assure you. I made excellent

arrangements,andtheyareonlydelayedonedayupontheirway.Imustcomplimentyouexceedingly
uponthezealandtheintelligencewhichyouhaveshownoveranextraordinarilydifficultcase."

I was still rather raw over the deception which had been practised upon me, but the warmth of

Holmes'spraisedrovemyangerfrommymind.Ifeltalsoinmyheartthathewasrightinwhathesaid
andthatitwasreallybestforourpurposethatIshouldnothaveknownthathewasuponthemoor.

"That's better," said he, seeing the shadow rise from my face. "And now tell me the result of your

visittoMrs.LauraLyons—itwasnotdifficultformetoguessthatitwastoseeherthatyouhadgone,
forIamalreadyawarethatsheistheonepersoninCoombeTraceywhomightbeofservicetousinthe
matter.Infact,ifyouhadnotgonetodayitisexceedinglyprobablethatIshouldhavegonetomorrow."

Thesunhadsetandduskwassettlingoverthemoor.Theairhadturnedchillandwewithdrewinto

the hut for warmth. There, sitting together in the twilight, I told Holmes of my conversation with the
lady.SointerestedwashethatIhadtorepeatsomeofittwicebeforehewassatisfied.

"Thisismostimportant,"saidhewhenIhadconcluded."ItfillsupagapwhichIhadbeenunableto

bridge in this most complex affair. You are aware, perhaps, that a close intimacy exists between this
ladyandthemanStapleton?"

"Ididnotknowofacloseintimacy."

"There can be no doubt about the matter. They meet, they write, there is a complete understanding

betweenthem.Now,thisputsaverypowerfulweaponintoourhands.IfIcouldonlyuseittodetachhis

wife—"

"Hiswife?"

"Iamgivingyousomeinformationnow,inreturnforallthatyouhavegivenme.Theladywhohas

passedhereasMissStapletonisinrealityhiswife."

"Goodheavens,Holmes!Areyousureofwhatyousay?HowcouldhehavepermittedSirHenryto

fallinlovewithher?"

"SirHenry'sfallinginlovecoulddonoharmtoanyoneexceptSirHenry.Hetookparticularcarethat

SirHenrydidnotmakelovetoher,asyouhaveyourselfobserved.Irepeatthattheladyishiswifeand
nothissister."

"Butwhythiselaboratedeception?"

"Because he foresaw that she would be very much more useful to him in the character of a free

woman."

Allmyunspokeninstincts,myvaguesuspicions,suddenlytookshapeandcentreduponthenaturalist.

In that impassive colourless man, with his straw hat and his butterfly-net, I seemed to see something
terrible—acreatureofinfinitepatienceandcraft,withasmilingfaceandamurderousheart.

"Itishe,then,whoisourenemy—itishewhodoggedusinLondon?"

"SoIreadtheriddle."

"Andthewarning—itmusthavecomefromher!"

"Exactly."

The shape of some monstrous villainy, half seen, half guessed, loomed through the darkness which

hadgirtmesolong.

"Butareyousureofthis,Holmes?Howdoyouknowthatthewomanishiswife?"

"Becausehesofarforgothimselfastotellyouatruepieceofautobiographyupontheoccasionwhen

hefirstmetyou,andIdaresayhehasmanyatimeregretteditsince.Hewasonceaschoolmasterinthe
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
showedmethataschoolhadcometogriefunderatrociouscircumstances,andthatthemanwhohad
owned it—the name was different—had disappeared with his wife. The descriptions agreed. When I
learnedthatthemissingmanwasdevotedtoentomologytheidentificationwascomplete."

Thedarknesswasrising,butmuchwasstillhiddenbytheshadows.

"Ifthiswomanisintruthhiswife,wheredoesMrs.LauraLyonscomein?"Iasked.

"Thatisoneofthepointsuponwhichyourownresearcheshaveshedalight.Yourinterviewwiththe

ladyhasclearedthesituationverymuch.Ididnotknowaboutaprojecteddivorcebetweenherselfand
her husband. In that case, regarding Stapleton as an unmarried man, she counted no doubt upon
becominghiswife."

"Andwhensheisundeceived?"

"Why, then we may find the lady of service. It must be our first duty to see her—both of us—

tomorrow.Don'tyouthink,Watson,thatyouareawayfromyourchargeratherlong?Yourplaceshould
beatBaskervilleHall."

Thelastredstreakshadfadedawayinthewestandnighthadsettleduponthemoor.Afewfaintstars

weregleaminginavioletsky.

"Onelastquestion,Holmes,"IsaidasIrose."Surelythereisnoneedofsecrecybetweenyouandme.

Whatisthemeaningofitall?Whatisheafter?"

Holmes'svoicesankasheanswered:

"Itismurder,Watson—refined,cold-blooded,deliberatemurder.Donotaskmeforparticulars.My

netsareclosinguponhim,evenashisareuponSirHenry,andwithyourhelpheisalreadyalmostatmy
mercy.Thereisbutonedangerwhichcanthreatenus.Itisthatheshouldstrikebeforewearereadyto
doso.Anotherday—twoatthemost—andIhavemycasecomplete,butuntilthenguardyourchargeas
closelyaseverafondmotherwatchedherailingchild.Yourmissiontodayhasjustifieditself,andyetI
couldalmostwishthatyouhadnotlefthisside.Hark!"

Aterriblescream—aprolongedyellofhorrorandanguish—burstoutofthesilenceofthemoor.That

frightfulcryturnedthebloodtoiceinmyveins.

"Oh,myGod!"Igasped."Whatisit?Whatdoesitmean?"

Holmeshadsprungtohisfeet,andIsawhisdark,athleticoutlineatthedoorofthehut,hisshoulders

stooping,hisheadthrustforward,hisfacepeeringintothedarkness.

"Hush!"hewhispered."Hush!"

Thecryhadbeenloudonaccountofitsvehemence,butithadpealedoutfromsomewherefaroffon

theshadowyplain.Nowitburstuponourears,nearer,louder,moreurgentthanbefore.

"Whereisit?"Holmeswhispered;andIknewfromthethrillofhisvoicethathe,themanofiron,was

shakentothesoul."Whereisit,Watson?"

"There,Ithink."Ipointedintothedarkness.

"No,there!"

Againtheagonizedcrysweptthroughthesilentnight,louderandmuchnearerthanever.Andanew

soundmingledwithit,adeep,mutteredrumble,musicalandyetmenacing,risingandfallinglikethe
low,constantmurmurofthesea.

"Thehound!"criedHolmes."Come,Watson,come!Greatheavens,ifwearetoolate!"

He had started running swiftly over the moor, and I had followed at his heels. But now from

somewhere among the broken ground immediately in front of us there came one last despairing yell,
andthenadull,heavythud.Wehaltedandlistened.Notanothersoundbroketheheavysilenceofthe
windlessnight.

I saw Holmes put his hand to his forehead like a man distracted. He stamped his feet upon the

ground.

"Hehasbeatenus,Watson.Wearetoolate."

"No,no,surelynot!"

"FoolthatIwastoholdmyhand.Andyou,Watson,seewhatcomesofabandoningyourcharge!But,

byHeaven,iftheworsthashappenedwe'llavengehim!"

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
dreadfulsoundshadcome.AteveryriseHolmeslookedeagerlyroundhim,buttheshadowswerethick
uponthemoor,andnothingmoveduponitsdrearyface.

"Canyouseeanything?"

"Nothing."

"But,hark,whatisthat?"

Alowmoanhadfallenuponourears.Thereitwasagainuponourleft!Onthatsidearidgeofrocks

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 definite shape. It
wasaprostratemanfacedownwardupontheground,theheaddoubledunderhimatahorribleangle,
the shoulders rounded and the body hunched together as if in the act of throwing a somersault. So
grotesquewastheattitudethatIcouldnotfortheinstantrealizethatthatmoanhadbeenthepassingof
hissoul.Notawhisper,notarustle,rosenowfromthedarkfigureoverwhichwestooped.Holmeslaid
hishanduponhimandhelditupagainwithanexclamationofhorror.Thegleamofthematchwhichhe
struckshoneuponhisclottedfingersandupontheghastlypoolwhichwidenedslowlyfromthecrushed
skullofthevictim.Anditshoneuponsomethingelsewhichturnedourheartssickandfaintwithinus—
thebodyofSirHenryBaskerville!

Therewasnochanceofeitherofusforgettingthatpeculiarruddytweedsuit—theveryonewhichhe

hadwornonthefirstmorningthatwehadseenhiminBakerStreet.Wecaughttheoneclearglimpseof
it, and then the match flickered and went out, even as the hope had gone out of our souls. Holmes
groaned,andhisfaceglimmeredwhitethroughthedarkness.

"The brute! The brute!" I cried with clenched hands. "Oh Holmes, I shall never forgive myself for

havinglefthimtohisfate."

"Iammoretoblamethanyou,Watson.Inordertohavemycasewellroundedandcomplete,Ihave

thrownawaythelifeofmyclient.Itisthegreatestblowwhichhasbefallenmeinmycareer.Buthow
couldIknow—howcouldIknow—thathewouldriskhislifealoneuponthemoorinthefaceofallmy
warnings?"

"That we should have heard his screams—my God, those screams!—and yet have been unable to

savehim!Whereisthisbruteofahoundwhichdrovehimtohisdeath?Itmaybelurkingamongthese
rocksatthisinstant.AndStapleton,whereishe?Heshallanswerforthisdeed."

"Heshall.Iwillseetothat.Uncleandnephewhavebeenmurdered—theonefrightenedtodeathby

the very sight of a beast which he thought to be supernatural, the other driven to his end in his wild
flighttoescapefromit.Butnowwehavetoprovetheconnectionbetweenthemanandthebeast.Save
fromwhatweheard,wecannotevensweartotheexistenceofthelatter,sinceSirHenryhasevidently
diedfromthefall.But,byheavens,cunningasheis,thefellowshallbeinmypowerbeforeanotherday
ispast!"

We stood with bitter hearts on either side of the mangled body, overwhelmed by this sudden and

irrevocabledisasterwhichhadbroughtallourlongandwearylabourstosopiteousanend.Thenasthe
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
abodeoftheStapletons.WithabittercurseIshookmyfistatitasIgazed.

"Whyshouldwenotseizehimatonce?"

"Ourcaseisnotcomplete.Thefellowiswaryandcunningtothelastdegree.Itisnotwhatweknow,

butwhatwecanprove.Ifwemakeonefalsemovethevillainmayescapeusyet."

"Whatcanwedo?"

"Therewillbeplentyforustodotomorrow.Tonightwecanonlyperformthelastofficestoourpoor

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
blurredmyeyeswithtears.

"Wemustsendforhelp,Holmes!WecannotcarryhimallthewaytotheHall.Goodheavens,areyou

mad?"

He had uttered a cry and bent over the body. Now he was dancing and laughing and wringing my

hand.Couldthisbemystern,self-containedfriend?Thesewerehiddenfires,indeed!

"Abeard!Abeard!Themanhasabeard!"

"Abeard?"

"Itisnotthebaronet—itis—why,itismyneighbour,theconvict!"

Withfeverishhastewehadturnedthebodyover,andthatdrippingbeardwaspointinguptothecold,

clearmoon.Therecouldbenodoubtaboutthebeetlingforehead,thesunkenanimaleyes.Itwasindeed
the same face which had glared upon me in the light of the candle from over the rock—the face of
Selden,thecriminal.

Then in an instant it was all clear to me. I remembered how the baronet had told me that he had

handed his old wardrobe to Barrymore. Barrymore had passed it on in order to help Selden in his
escape.Boots,shirt,cap—itwasallSirHenry's.Thetragedywasstillblackenough,butthismanhadat
leastdeserveddeathbythelawsofhiscountry.ItoldHolmeshowthematterstood,myheartbubbling
overwiththankfulnessandjoy.

"Thentheclotheshavebeenthepoordevil'sdeath,"saidhe."Itisclearenoughthatthehoundhas

been laid on from some article of Sir Henry's—the boot which was abstracted in the hotel, in all
probability—andsoranthismandown.Thereisoneverysingularthing,however:HowcameSelden,
inthedarkness,toknowthatthehoundwasonhistrail?"

"Heheardhim."

"Tohearahounduponthemoorwouldnotworkahardmanlikethisconvictintosuchaparoxysmof

terrorthathewouldriskrecapturebyscreamingwildlyforhelp.Byhiscrieshemusthaverunalong
wayafterheknewtheanimalwasonhistrack.Howdidheknow?"

"Agreatermysterytomeiswhythishound,presumingthatallourconjecturesarecorrect—"

"Ipresumenothing."

"Well,then,whythishoundshouldbeloosetonight.Isupposethatitdoesnotalwaysrunlooseupon

themoor.StapletonwouldnotletitgounlesshehadreasontothinkthatSirHenrywouldbethere."

"My difficulty is the more formidable of the two, for I think that we shall very shortly get an

explanationofyours,whileminemayremainforeveramystery.Thequestionnowis,whatshallwedo
withthispoorwretch'sbody?Wecannotleaveitheretothefoxesandtheravens."

"Isuggestthatweputitinoneofthehutsuntilwecancommunicatewiththepolice."

"Exactly.IhavenodoubtthatyouandIcouldcarryitsofar.Halloa,Watson,what'sthis?It'stheman

himself,byallthat'swonderfulandaudacious!Notawordtoshowyoursuspicions—notaword,ormy
planscrumbletotheground."

Afigurewasapproachingusoverthemoor,andIsawthedullredglowofacigar.Themoonshone

uponhim,andIcoulddistinguishthedappershapeandjauntywalkofthenaturalist.Hestoppedwhen
hesawus,andthencameonagain.

"Why,Dr.Watson,that'snotyou,isit?YouarethelastmanthatIshouldhaveexpectedtoseeouton

themooratthistimeofnight.But,dearme,what'sthis?Somebodyhurt?Not—don'ttellmethatitis
ourfriendSirHenry!"Hehurriedpastmeandstoopedoverthedeadman.Iheardasharpintakeofhis
breathandthecigarfellfromhisfingers.

"Who—who'sthis?"hestammered.

"ItisSelden,themanwhoescapedfromPrincetown."

Stapletonturnedaghastlyfaceuponus,butbyasupremeefforthehadovercomehisamazementand

his disappointment. He looked sharply from Holmes to me. "Dear me! What a very shocking affair!
Howdidhedie?"

"Heappearstohavebrokenhisneckbyfallingovertheserocks.MyfriendandIwerestrollingonthe

moorwhenweheardacry."

"Iheardacryalso.Thatwaswhatbroughtmeout.IwasuneasyaboutSirHenry."

"WhyaboutSirHenryinparticular?"Icouldnothelpasking.

"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
dartedagainfrommyfacetoHolmes's—"didyouhearanythingelsebesidesacry?"

"No,"saidHolmes;"didyou?"

"No."

"Whatdoyoumean,then?"

"Oh, you know the stories that the peasants tell about a phantom hound, and so on. It is said to be

heardatnightuponthemoor.Iwaswonderingiftherewereanyevidenceofsuchasoundtonight."

"Weheardnothingofthekind,"saidI.

"Andwhatisyourtheoryofthispoorfellow'sdeath?"

"I have no doubt that anxiety and exposure have driven him off his head. He has rushed about the

moorinacrazystateandeventuallyfallenoverhereandbrokenhisneck."

"Thatseemsthemostreasonabletheory,"saidStapleton,andhegaveasighwhichItooktoindicate

hisrelief."Whatdoyouthinkaboutit,Mr.SherlockHolmes?"

Myfriendbowedhiscompliments."Youarequickatidentification,"saidhe.

"WehavebeenexpectingyouinthesepartssinceDr.Watsoncamedown.Youareintimetoseea

tragedy."

"Yes, indeed. I have no doubt that my friend's explanation will cover the facts. I will take an

unpleasantremembrancebacktoLondonwithmetomorrow."

"Oh,youreturntomorrow?"

"Thatismyintention."

"Ihopeyourvisithascastsomelightuponthoseoccurrenceswhichhavepuzzledus?"

Holmesshruggedhisshoulders.

"One cannot always have the success for which one hopes. An investigator needs facts and not

legendsorrumours.Ithasnotbeenasatisfactorycase."

My friend spoke in his frankest and most unconcerned manner. Stapleton still looked hard at him.

Thenheturnedtome.

"Iwouldsuggestcarryingthispoorfellowtomyhouse,butitwouldgivemysistersuchafrightthat

I do not feel justified in doing it. I think that if we put something over his face he will be safe until
morning."

Andsoitwasarranged.ResistingStapleton'sofferofhospitality,HolmesandIsetofftoBaskerville

Hall,leavingthenaturalisttoreturnalone.Lookingbackwesawthefiguremovingslowlyawayover
thebroadmoor,andbehindhimthatoneblacksmudgeonthesilveredslopewhichshowedwherethe
manwaslyingwhohadcomesohorriblytohisend.

Chapter13.FixingtheNets

"We'reatclosegripsatlast,"saidHolmesaswewalkedtogetheracrossthemoor."Whatanervethe

fellowhas!Howhepulledhimselftogetherinthefaceofwhatmusthavebeenaparalyzingshockwhen
hefoundthatthewrongmanhadfallenavictimtohisplot.ItoldyouinLondon,Watson,andItellyou
nowagain,thatwehaveneverhadafoemanmoreworthyofoursteel."

"Iamsorrythathehasseenyou."

"AndsowasIatfirst.Buttherewasnogettingoutofit."

"Whateffectdoyouthinkitwillhaveuponhisplansnowthatheknowsyouarehere?"

"Itmaycausehimtobemorecautious,oritmaydrivehimtodesperatemeasuresatonce.Likemost

clever criminals, he may be too confident in his own cleverness and imagine that he has completely
deceivedus."

"Whyshouldwenotarresthimatonce?"

"My dear Watson, you were born to be a man of action. Your instinct is always to do something

energetic.Butsupposing,forargument'ssake,thatwehadhimarrestedtonight,whatonearththebetter
offshouldwebeforthat?Wecouldprovenothingagainsthim.There'sthedevilishcunningofit!Ifhe
wereactingthroughahumanagentwecouldgetsomeevidence,butifweweretodragthisgreatdogto
thelightofdayitwouldnothelpusinputtingaroperoundtheneckofitsmaster."

"Surelywehaveacase."

"Notashadowofone—onlysurmiseandconjecture.Weshouldbelaughedoutofcourtifwecame

withsuchastoryandsuchevidence."

"ThereisSirCharles'sdeath."

"Found dead without a mark upon him. You and I know that he died of sheer fright, and we know

alsowhatfrightenedhim,buthowarewetogettwelvestolidjurymentoknowit?Whatsignsarethere
of a hound? Where are the marks of its fangs? Of course we know that a hound does not bite a dead
bodyandthatSirCharleswasdeadbeforeeverthebruteovertookhim.Butwehavetoproveallthis,
andwearenotinapositiontodoit."

"Well,then,tonight?"

"Wearenotmuchbetterofftonight.Again,therewasnodirectconnectionbetweenthehoundand

theman'sdeath.Weneversawthehound.Weheardit,butwecouldnotprovethatitwasrunningupon
this man's trail. There is a complete absence of motive. No, my dear fellow; we must reconcile
ourselvestothe factthatwe havenocase atpresent,and thatit isworthour whiletorun anyriskin
ordertoestablishone."

"Andhowdoyouproposetodoso?"

"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 tomorrow is the evil thereof; but I hope
beforethedayispasttohavetheupperhandatlast."

Icoulddrawnothingfurtherfromhim,andhewalked,lostinthought,asfarastheBaskervillegates.

"Areyoucomingup?"

"Yes;Iseenoreasonforfurtherconcealment.Butonelastword,Watson.Saynothingofthehoundto

Sir Henry. Let him think that Selden's death was as Stapleton would have us believe. He will have a

betternervefortheordealwhichhewillhavetoundergotomorrow,whenheisengaged,ifIremember
yourreportaright,todinewiththesepeople."

"AndsoamI."

"Thenyoumustexcuseyourselfandhemustgoalone.Thatwillbeeasilyarranged.Andnow,ifwe

aretoolatefordinner,Ithinkthatwearebothreadyforoursuppers."

SirHenrywasmorepleasedthansurprisedtoseeSherlockHolmes,forhehadforsomedaysbeen

expectingthatrecenteventswouldbringhimdownfromLondon.Hedidraisehiseyebrows,however,
whenhefoundthatmyfriendhadneitheranyluggagenoranyexplanationsforitsabsence.Betweenus
wesoonsuppliedhiswants,andthenoverabelatedsupperweexplainedtothebaronetasmuchofour
experienceasitseemeddesirablethatheshouldknow.ButfirstIhadtheunpleasantdutyofbreaking
the news to Barrymore and his wife. To him it may have been an unmitigated relief, but she wept
bitterlyinherapron.Toalltheworldhewasthemanofviolence,halfanimalandhalfdemon;butto
herhealwaysremainedthelittlewilfulboyofherowngirlhood,thechildwhohadclungtoherhand.
Evilindeedisthemanwhohasnotonewomantomournhim.

"I've been moping in the house all day since Watson went off in the morning," said the baronet. "I

guessIshouldhavesomecredit,forIhavekeptmypromise.IfIhadn'tswornnottogoaboutaloneI
mighthavehadamorelivelyevening,forIhadamessagefromStapletonaskingmeoverthere."

"Ihavenodoubtthatyouwouldhavehadamorelivelyevening,"saidHolmesdrily."Bytheway,I

don'tsupposeyouappreciatethatwehavebeenmourningoveryouashavingbrokenyourneck?"

SirHenryopenedhiseyes."Howwasthat?"

"Thispoorwretchwasdressedinyourclothes.Ifearyourservantwhogavethemtohimmaygetinto

troublewiththepolice."

"Thatisunlikely.Therewasnomarkonanyofthem,asfarasIknow."

"That'sluckyforhim—infact,it'sluckyforallofyou,sinceyouareallonthewrongsideofthelaw

in this matter. I am not sure that as a conscientious detective my first duty is not to arrest the whole
household.Watson'sreportsaremostincriminatingdocuments."

"But how about the case?" asked the baronet. "Have you made anything out of the tangle? I don't

knowthatWatsonandIaremuchthewisersincewecamedown."

"IthinkthatIshallbeinapositiontomakethesituationrathermorecleartoyoubeforelong.Ithas

beenanexceedinglydifficultandmostcomplicatedbusiness.Thereareseveralpointsuponwhichwe
stillwantlight—butitiscomingallthesame."

"We'vehadoneexperience,asWatsonhasnodoubttoldyou.Weheardthehoundonthemoor,soI

canswearthatitisnotallemptysuperstition.IhadsomethingtodowithdogswhenIwasoutWest,and
IknowonewhenIhearone.IfyoucanmuzzlethatoneandputhimonachainI'llbereadytoswear
youarethegreatestdetectiveofalltime."

"IthinkIwillmuzzlehimandchainhimallrightifyouwillgivemeyourhelp."

"WhateveryoutellmetodoIwilldo."

"Verygood;andIwillaskyoualsotodoitblindly,withoutalwaysaskingthereason."

"Justasyoulike."

"IfyouwilldothisIthinkthechancesarethatourlittleproblemwillsoonbesolved.Ihavenodoubt

—"

Hestoppedsuddenlyandstaredfixedlyupovermyheadintotheair.Thelampbeatuponhisface,

and so intent was it and so still that it might have been that of a clear-cut classical statue, a

personificationofalertnessandexpectation.

"Whatisit?"webothcried.

Icouldseeashelookeddownthathewasrepressingsomeinternalemotion.Hisfeatureswerestill

composed,buthiseyesshonewithamusedexultation.

"Excusetheadmirationofaconnoisseur,"saidheashewavedhishandtowardsthelineofportraits

which covered the opposite wall. "Watson won't allow that I know anything of art but that is mere
jealousybecauseourviewsuponthesubjectdiffer.Now,theseareareallyveryfineseriesofportraits."

"Well,I'mgladtohearyousayso,"saidSirHenry,glancingwithsomesurpriseatmyfriend."Idon't

pretendtoknowmuchaboutthesethings,andI'dbeabetterjudgeofahorseorasteerthanofapicture.
Ididn'tknowthatyoufoundtimeforsuchthings."

"IknowwhatisgoodwhenIseeit,andIseeitnow.That'saKneller,I'llswear,thatladyintheblue

silk over yonder, and the stout gentleman with the wig ought to be a Reynolds. They are all family
portraits,Ipresume?"

"Everyone."

"Doyouknowthenames?"

"Barrymorehasbeencoachingmeinthem,andIthinkIcansaymylessonsfairlywell."

"Whoisthegentlemanwiththetelescope?"

"ThatisRear-AdmiralBaskerville,whoservedunderRodneyintheWestIndies.Themanwiththe

blue coat and the roll of paper is Sir William Baskerville, who was Chairman of Committees of the
HouseofCommonsunderPitt."

"AndthisCavalieroppositetome—theonewiththeblackvelvetandthelace?"

"Ah,youhavearighttoknowabouthim.Thatisthecauseofallthemischief,thewickedHugo,who

startedtheHoundoftheBaskervilles.We'renotlikelytoforgethim."

Igazedwithinterestandsomesurpriseupontheportrait.

"Dear me!" said Holmes, "he seems a quiet, meek-mannered man enough, but I dare say that there

wasalurkingdevilinhiseyes.Ihadpicturedhimasamorerobustandruffianlyperson."

"There's no doubt about the authenticity, for the name and the date, 1647, are on the back of the

canvas."

Holmessaidlittlemore,butthepictureoftheoldroystererseemedtohaveafascinationforhim,and

hiseyeswerecontinuallyfixeduponitduringsupper.Itwasnotuntillater,whenSirHenryhadgoneto
hisroom,thatIwasabletofollowthetrendofhisthoughts.Heledmebackintothebanqueting-hall,
hisbedroomcandleinhishand,andhehelditupagainstthetime-stainedportraitonthewall.

"Doyouseeanythingthere?"

Ilookedatthebroadplumedhat,thecurlinglove-locks,thewhitelacecollar,andthestraight,severe

facewhichwasframedbetweenthem.Itwasnotabrutalcountenance,butitwasprim,hard,andstern,
withafirm-set,thin-lippedmouth,andacoldlyintoleranteye.

"Isitlikeanyoneyouknow?"

"ThereissomethingofSirHenryaboutthejaw."

"Justasuggestion,perhaps.Butwaitaninstant!"Hestooduponachair,and,holdingupthelightin

hislefthand,hecurvedhisrightarmoverthebroadhatandroundthelongringlets.

"Goodheavens!"Icriedinamazement.

ThefaceofStapletonhadsprungoutofthecanvas.

"Ha,youseeitnow.Myeyeshavebeentrainedtoexaminefacesandnottheirtrimmings.Itisthe

firstqualityofacriminalinvestigatorthatheshouldseethroughadisguise."

"Butthisismarvellous.Itmightbehisportrait."

"Yes,itisaninterestinginstanceofathrowback,whichappearstobebothphysicalandspiritual.A

study of family portraits is enough to convert a man to the doctrine of reincarnation. The fellow is a
Baskerville—thatisevident."

"Withdesignsuponthesuccession."

"Exactly.Thischanceofthepicturehassupplieduswithoneofourmostobviousmissinglinks.We

havehim,Watson,wehavehim,andIdareswearthatbeforetomorrownighthewillbeflutteringinour
net as helpless as one of his own butterflies. A pin, a cork, and a card, and we add him to the Baker
Street collection!" He burst into one of his rare fits of laughter as he turned away from the picture. I
havenotheardhimlaughoften,andithasalwaysbodedilltosomebody.

I was up betimes in the morning, but Holmes was afoot earlier still, for I saw him as I dressed,

comingupthedrive.

"Yes,weshouldhaveafulldaytoday,"heremarked,andherubbedhishandswiththejoyofaction.

"Thenetsareallinplace,andthedragisabouttobegin.We'llknowbeforethedayisoutwhetherwe
havecaughtourbig,leanjawedpike,orwhetherhehasgotthroughthemeshes."

"Haveyoubeenonthemooralready?"

"IhavesentareportfromGrimpentoPrincetownastothedeathofSelden.IthinkIcanpromisethat

noneofyouwillbetroubledinthematter.AndIhavealsocommunicatedwithmyfaithfulCartwright,
whowouldcertainlyhavepinedawayatthedoorofmyhut,asadogdoesathismaster'sgrave,ifIhad
notsethismindatrestaboutmysafety."

"Whatisthenextmove?"

"ToseeSirHenry.Ah,hereheis!"

"Good-morning,Holmes,"saidthebaronet."Youlooklikeageneralwhoisplanningabattlewithhis

chiefofthestaff."

"Thatistheexactsituation.Watsonwasaskingfororders."

"AndsodoI."

"Verygood.Youareengaged,asIunderstand,todinewithourfriendstheStapletonstonight."

"Ihopethatyouwillcomealso.Theyareveryhospitablepeople,andIamsurethattheywouldbe

verygladtoseeyou."

"IfearthatWatsonandImustgotoLondon."

"ToLondon?"

"Yes,Ithinkthatweshouldbemoreusefulthereatthepresentjuncture."

Thebaronet'sfaceperceptiblylengthened.

"I hoped that you were going to see me through this business. The Hall and the moor are not very

pleasantplaceswhenoneisalone."

"My dear fellow, you must trust me implicitly and do exactly what I tell you. You can tell your

friendsthatweshouldhavebeenhappytohavecomewithyou,butthaturgentbusinessrequiredusto
beintown.WehopeverysoontoreturntoDevonshire.Willyouremembertogivethemthatmessage?"

"Ifyouinsistuponit."

"Thereisnoalternative,Iassureyou."

Isawbythebaronet'scloudedbrowthathewasdeeplyhurtbywhatheregardedasourdesertion.

"Whendoyoudesiretogo?"heaskedcoldly.

"Immediatelyafterbreakfast.WewilldriveintoCoombeTracey,butWatsonwillleavehisthingsas

apledgethathewillcomebacktoyou.Watson,youwillsendanotetoStapletontotellhimthatyou
regretthatyoucannotcome."

"IhaveagoodmindtogotoLondonwithyou,"saidthebaronet."WhyshouldIstayherealone?"

"Becauseitisyourpostofduty.Becauseyougavemeyourwordthatyouwoulddoasyouweretold,

andItellyoutostay."

"Allright,then,I'llstay."

"Onemoredirection!IwishyoutodrivetoMerripitHouse.Sendbackyourtrap,however,andlet

themknowthatyouintendtowalkhome."

"Towalkacrossthemoor?"

"Yes."

"Butthatistheverythingwhichyouhavesooftencautionedmenottodo."

"Thistimeyoumaydoitwithsafety.IfIhadnoteveryconfidenceinyournerveandcourageIwould

notsuggestit,butitisessentialthatyoushoulddoit."

"ThenIwilldoit."

"Andasyouvalueyourlifedonotgoacrossthemoorinanydirectionsavealongthestraightpath

whichleadsfromMerripitHousetotheGrimpenRoad,andisyournaturalwayhome."

"Iwilldojustwhatyousay."

"Verygood.Ishouldbegladtogetawayassoonafterbreakfastaspossible,soastoreachLondonin

theafternoon."

Iwasmuchastoundedbythisprogramme,thoughIrememberedthatHolmeshadsaidtoStapletonon

the night before that his visit would terminate next day. It had not crossed my mind however, that he
wouldwishmetogowithhim,norcouldIunderstandhowwecouldbothbeabsentatamomentwhich
hehimselfdeclaredtobecritical.Therewasnothingforit,however,butimplicitobedience;sowebade
good-bye to our rueful friend, and a couple of hours afterwards we were at the station of Coombe
Traceyandhaddispatchedthetrapuponitsreturnjourney.Asmallboywaswaitingupontheplatform.

"Anyorders,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 pocketbook which I have dropped he is to
senditbyregisteredposttoBakerStreet."

"Yes,sir."

"Andaskatthestationofficeifthereisamessageforme."

Theboyreturnedwithatelegram,whichHolmeshandedtome.Itran:

Wirereceived.Comingdownwithunsignedwarrant.Arrivefive-forty.Lestrade.

"Thatisinanswertomineofthismorning.Heisthebestoftheprofessionals,Ithink,andwemay

needhisassistance.Now,Watson,Ithinkthatwecannotemployourtimebetterthanbycallingupon
youracquaintance,Mrs.LauraLyons."

Hisplanofcampaignwasbeginningtobeevident.Hewouldusethebaronetinordertoconvincethe

Stapletonsthatwewerereallygone,whileweshouldactuallyreturnattheinstantwhenwewerelikely
tobeneeded.ThattelegramfromLondon,ifmentionedbySirHenrytotheStapletons,mustremovethe

lastsuspicionsfromtheirminds.AlreadyIseemedtoseeournetsdrawingcloseraroundthatleanjawed
pike.

Mrs.LauraLyonswasinheroffice,andSherlockHolmesopenedhisinterviewwithafranknessand

directnesswhichconsiderablyamazedher.

"IaminvestigatingthecircumstanceswhichattendedthedeathofthelateSirCharlesBaskerville,"

said he. "My friend here, Dr. Watson, has informed me of what you have communicated, and also of
whatyouhavewithheldinconnectionwiththatmatter."

"WhathaveIwithheld?"sheaskeddefiantly.

"YouhaveconfessedthatyouaskedSirCharlestobeatthegateatteno'clock.Weknowthatthatwas

theplaceandhourofhisdeath.Youhavewithheldwhattheconnectionisbetweentheseevents."

"Thereisnoconnection."

"Inthatcasethecoincidencemustindeedbeanextraordinaryone.ButIthinkthatweshallsucceed

inestablishingaconnection,afterall.Iwishtobeperfectlyfrankwithyou,Mrs.Lyons.Weregardthis
caseasoneofmurder,andtheevidencemayimplicatenotonlyyourfriendMr.Stapletonbuthiswife
aswell."

Theladysprangfromherchair.

"Hiswife!"shecried.

"Thefactisnolongerasecret.Thepersonwhohaspassedforhissisterisreallyhiswife."

Mrs.Lyonshadresumedherseat.Herhandsweregraspingthearmsofherchair,andIsawthatthe

pinknailshadturnedwhitewiththepressureofhergrip.

"Hiswife!"shesaidagain."Hiswife!Heisnotamarriedman."

SherlockHolmesshruggedhisshoulders.

"Proveittome!Proveittome!Andifyoucandoso—!"

Thefierceflashofhereyessaidmorethananywords.

"I have come prepared to do so," said Holmes, drawing several papers from his pocket. "Here is a

photographofthecoupletakeninYorkfouryearsago.Itisindorsed'Mr.andMrs.Vandeleur,'butyou
willhavenodifficultyinrecognizinghim,andheralso,ifyouknowherbysight.Herearethreewritten
descriptions by trustworthy witnesses of Mr. and Mrs. Vandeleur, who at that time kept St. Oliver's
privateschool.Readthemandseeifyoucandoubttheidentityofthesepeople."

Sheglancedatthem,andthenlookedupatuswiththeset,rigidfaceofadesperatewoman.

"Mr. Holmes," she said, "this man had offered me marriage on condition that I could get a divorce

frommyhusband.Hehasliedtome,thevillain,ineveryconceivableway.Notonewordoftruthhashe
evertoldme.Andwhy—why?Iimaginedthatallwasformyownsake.ButnowIseethatIwasnever
anythingbutatoolinhishands.WhyshouldIpreservefaithwithhimwhoneverkeptanywithme?
WhyshouldItrytoshieldhimfromtheconsequencesofhisownwickedacts?Askmewhatyoulike,
andthereisnothingwhichIshallholdback.OnethingIsweartoyou,andthatisthatwhenIwrotethe
letterIneverdreamedofanyharmtotheoldgentleman,whohadbeenmykindestfriend."

"I entirely believe you, madam," said Sherlock Holmes. "The recital of these events must be very

painfultoyou,andperhapsitwillmakeiteasierifItellyouwhatoccurred,andyoucancheckmeifI
makeanymaterialmistake.ThesendingofthisletterwassuggestedtoyoubyStapleton?"

"Hedictatedit."

"I presume that the reason he gave was that you would receive help from Sir Charles for the legal

expensesconnectedwithyourdivorce?"

"Exactly."

"Andthenafteryouhadsenttheletterhedissuadedyoufromkeepingtheappointment?"

"Hetoldmethatitwouldhurthisself-respectthatanyothermanshouldfindthemoneyforsuchan

object, and that though he was a poor man himself he would devote his last penny to removing the
obstacleswhichdividedus."

"Heappearstobeaveryconsistentcharacter.Andthenyouheardnothinguntilyoureadthereports

ofthedeathinthepaper?"

"No."

"AndhemadeyousweartosaynothingaboutyourappointmentwithSirCharles?"

"Hedid.Hesaidthatthedeathwasaverymysteriousone,andthatIshouldcertainlybesuspectedif

thefactscameout.Hefrightenedmeintoremainingsilent."

"Quiteso.Butyouhadyoursuspicions?"

Shehesitatedandlookeddown.

"Iknewhim,"shesaid."ButifhehadkeptfaithwithmeIshouldalwayshavedonesowithhim."

"Ithinkthatonthewholeyouhavehadafortunateescape,"saidSherlockHolmes."Youhavehad

himinyourpowerandheknewit,andyetyouarealive.Youhavebeenwalkingforsomemonthsvery
neartotheedgeofaprecipice.Wemustwishyougood-morningnow,Mrs.Lyons,anditisprobable
thatyouwillveryshortlyhearfromusagain."

"Ourcasebecomesroundedoff,anddifficultyafterdifficultythinsawayinfrontofus,"saidHolmes

aswestoodwaitingforthearrivaloftheexpressfromtown."Ishallsoonbeinthepositionofbeing
abletoputintoasingleconnectednarrativeoneofthemostsingularandsensationalcrimesofmodern
times.StudentsofcriminologywillremembertheanalogousincidentsinGodno,inLittleRussia,inthe
year'66,andofcoursetherearetheAndersonmurdersinNorthCarolina,butthiscasepossessessome
featureswhichareentirelyitsown.Evennowwehavenoclearcaseagainstthisverywilyman.ButI
shallbeverymuchsurprisedifitisnotclearenoughbeforewegotobedthisnight."

The London express came roaring into the station, 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
whichLestradegazedatmycompanionthathehadlearnedagooddealsincethedayswhentheyhad
firstworkedtogether.Icouldwellrememberthescornwhichthetheoriesofthereasonerusedthento
exciteinthepracticalman.

"Anythinggood?"heasked.

"Thebiggestthingforyears,"saidHolmes."Wehavetwohoursbeforeweneedthinkofstarting.I

thinkwemightemployitingettingsomedinnerandthen,Lestrade,wewilltaketheLondonfogoutof
yourthroatbygivingyouabreathofthepurenightairofDartmoor.Neverbeenthere?Ah,well,Idon't
supposeyouwillforgetyourfirstvisit."

Chapter14.TheHoundoftheBaskervilles

OneofSherlockHolmes'sdefects—if,indeed,onemaycallitadefect—wasthathewasexceedingly

loath to communicate his full plans to any other person until the instant of their fulfilment. Partly it
came no doubt from his own masterful nature, which loved to dominate and surprise those who were
aroundhim.Partlyalsofromhisprofessionalcaution,whichurgedhimnevertotakeanychances.The
result, however, was very trying for those who were acting as his agents and assistants. I had often
sufferedunderit,butnevermoresothanduringthatlongdriveinthedarkness.Thegreatordealwasin
frontofus;atlastwewereabouttomakeourfinaleffort,andyetHolmeshadsaidnothing,andIcould
onlysurmisewhathiscourseofactionwouldbe.Mynervesthrilledwithanticipationwhenatlastthe
coldwinduponourfacesandthedark,voidspacesoneithersideofthenarrowroadtoldmethatwe
werebackuponthemooronceagain.Everystrideofthehorsesandeveryturnofthewheelswastaking
usnearertooursupremeadventure.

Ourconversationwashamperedbythepresenceofthedriverofthehiredwagonette,sothatwewere

forcedtotalkoftrivialmatterswhenournervesweretensewithemotionandanticipation.Itwasarelief
tome,afterthatunnaturalrestraint,whenweatlastpassedFrankland'shouseandknewthatwewere
drawingneartotheHallandtothesceneofaction.Wedidnotdriveuptothedoorbutgotdownnear
thegateoftheavenue.ThewagonettewaspaidoffandorderedtoreturntoCoombeTraceyforthwith,
whilewestartedtowalktoMerripitHouse.

"Areyouarmed,Lestrade?"

Thelittledetectivesmiled."AslongasIhavemytrousersIhaveahip-pocket,andaslongasIhave

myhip-pocketIhavesomethinginit."

"Good!MyfriendandIarealsoreadyforemergencies."

"You'remightycloseaboutthisaffair,Mr.Holmes.What'sthegamenow?"

"Awaitinggame."

"Myword,itdoesnotseemaverycheerfulplace,"saidthedetectivewithashiver,glancinground

himatthegloomyslopesofthehillandatthehugelakeoffogwhichlayovertheGrimpenMire."Isee
thelightsofahouseaheadofus."

"ThatisMerripitHouseandtheendofourjourney.Imustrequestyoutowalkontiptoeandnotto

talkaboveawhisper."

Wemovedcautiouslyalongthetrackasifwewereboundforthehouse,butHolmeshalteduswhen

wewereabouttwohundredyardsfromit.

"Thiswilldo,"saidhe."Theserocksupontherightmakeanadmirablescreen."

"Wearetowaithere?"

"Yes,weshallmakeourlittleambushhere.Getintothishollow,Lestrade.Youhavebeeninsidethe

house,haveyounot,Watson?Canyoutellthepositionoftherooms?Whatarethoselatticedwindows
atthisend?"

"Ithinktheyarethekitchenwindows."

"Andtheonebeyond,whichshinessobrightly?"

"Thatiscertainlythedining-room."

"Theblindsareup.Youknowthelieofthelandbest.Creepforwardquietlyandseewhattheyare

doing—butforheaven'ssakedon'tletthemknowthattheyarewatched!"

I tiptoed down the path and stooped behind the low wall which surrounded the stunted orchard.

CreepinginitsshadowIreachedapointwhenceIcouldlookstraightthroughtheuncurtainedwindow.

Therewereonlytwomenintheroom,SirHenryandStapleton.Theysatwiththeirprofilestowards

meoneithersideoftheroundtable.Bothofthemweresmokingcigars,andcoffeeandwinewerein
frontofthem.Stapletonwastalkingwithanimation,butthebaronetlookedpaleanddistrait.Perhaps
thethoughtofthatlonelywalkacrosstheill-omenedmoorwasweighingheavilyuponhismind.

AsIwatchedthemStapletonroseandlefttheroom,whileSirHenryfilledhisglassagainandleaned

back in his chair, puffing at his cigar. I heard the creak of a door and the crisp sound of boots upon
gravel.ThestepspassedalongthepathontheothersideofthewallunderwhichIcrouched.Looking
over,Isawthenaturalistpauseatthedoorofanout-houseinthecorneroftheorchard.Akeyturnedin
alock,andashepassedintherewasacuriousscufflingnoisefromwithin.Hewasonlyaminuteorso
inside,andthenIheardthekeyturnoncemoreandhepassedmeandreenteredthehouse.Isawhim
rejoinhisguest,andIcreptquietlybacktowheremycompanionswerewaitingtotellthemwhatIhad
seen.

"Yousay,Watson,thattheladyisnotthere?"HolmesaskedwhenIhadfinishedmyreport.

"No."

"Wherecanshebe,then,sincethereisnolightinanyotherroomexceptthekitchen?"

"Icannotthinkwheresheis."

IhavesaidthatoverthegreatGrimpenMiretherehungadense,whitefog.Itwasdriftingslowlyin

our direction and banked itself up like a wall on that side of us, low but thick and well defined. The
moonshoneonit,anditlookedlikeagreatshimmeringice-field,withtheheadsofthedistanttorsas
rocks borne upon its surface. Holmes's face was turned towards it, and he muttered impatiently as he
watcheditssluggishdrift.

"It'smovingtowardsus,Watson."

"Isthatserious?"

"Veryserious,indeed—theonethinguponearthwhichcouldhavedisarrangedmyplans.Hecan'tbe

verylong,now.Itisalreadyteno'clock.Oursuccessandevenhislifemaydependuponhiscomingout
beforethefogisoverthepath."

Thenightwasclearandfineaboveus.Thestarsshonecoldandbright,whileahalf-moonbathedthe

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 off. The
servantshadleftthekitchen.Thereonlyremainedthelampinthedining-roomwherethetwomen,the
murderoushostandtheunconsciousguest,stillchattedovertheircigars.

Every minute that white woolly plain which covered one-half of the moor was drifting closer and

closertothehouse.Alreadythefirstthinwispsofitwerecurlingacrossthegoldensquareofthelighted
window.Thefartherwalloftheorchardwasalreadyinvisible,andthetreeswerestandingoutofaswirl
ofwhitevapour.Aswewatcheditthefog-wreathscamecrawlingroundbothcornersofthehouseand
rolledslowlyintoonedensebankonwhichtheupperfloorandtherooffloatedlikeastrangeshipupon
ashadowysea.Holmesstruckhishandpassionatelyupontherockinfrontofusandstampedhisfeetin
hisimpatience.

"Ifheisn'toutinaquarterofanhourthepathwillbecovered.Inhalfanhourwewon'tbeabletosee

ourhandsinfrontofus."

"Shallwemovefartherbackuponhigherground?"

"Yes,Ithinkitwouldbeaswell."

Soasthefog-bankflowedonwardwefellbackbeforeituntilwewerehalfamilefromthehouse,

andstillthatdensewhitesea,withthemoonsilveringitsupperedge,sweptslowlyandinexorablyon.

"Wearegoingtoofar,"saidHolmes."Wedarenottakethechanceofhisbeingovertakenbeforehe

canreachus.Atallcostswemustholdourgroundwhereweare."Hedroppedonhiskneesandclapped
hiseartotheground."ThankGod,IthinkthatIhearhimcoming."

Asoundofquickstepsbrokethesilenceofthemoor.Crouchingamongthestoneswestaredintently

atthesilver-tippedbankinfrontofus.Thestepsgrewlouder,andthroughthefog,asthroughacurtain,
theresteppedthemanwhomwewereawaiting.Helookedroundhiminsurpriseasheemergedintothe
clear,starlitnight.Thenhecameswiftlyalongthepath,passedclosetowherewelay,andwentonup
thelongslopebehindus.Ashewalkedheglancedcontinuallyovereithershoulder,likeamanwhoisill
atease.

"Hist!"criedHolmes,andIheardthesharpclickofacockingpistol."Lookout!It'scoming!"

There was a thin, crisp, continuous patter from somewhere in the heart of that crawling bank. The

cloudwaswithinfiftyyardsofwherewelay,andweglaredatit,allthree,uncertainwhathorrorwas
abouttobreakfromtheheartofit.IwasatHolmes'selbow,andIglancedforaninstantathisface.It
waspaleandexultant,hiseyesshiningbrightlyinthemoonlight.Butsuddenlytheystartedforwardina
rigid,fixedstare,andhislipspartedinamazement.AtthesameinstantLestradegaveayellofterror
and threw himself face downward upon the ground. I sprang to my feet, my inert hand grasping my
pistol,mymindparalyzedbythedreadfulshapewhichhadsprungoutuponusfromtheshadowsofthe
fog. A hound it was, an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever
seen.Fireburstfromitsopenmouth,itseyesglowedwithasmoulderingglare,itsmuzzleandhackles
anddewlapwereoutlinedinflickeringflame.Neverinthedeliriousdreamofadisorderedbraincould
anythingmoresavage,moreappalling,morehellishbeconceivedthanthatdarkformandsavageface
whichbrokeuponusoutofthewalloffog.

With long bounds the huge black creature was leaping down the track, following hard upon the

footstepsofourfriend.Soparalyzedwerewebytheapparitionthatweallowedhimtopassbeforewe
hadrecoveredournerve.ThenHolmesandIbothfiredtogether,andthecreaturegaveahideoushowl,
whichshowedthatoneatleasthadhithim.Hedidnotpause,however,butboundedonward.Faraway
onthepathwesawSirHenrylookingback,hisfacewhiteinthemoonlight,hishandsraisedinhorror,
glaring helplessly at the frightful thing which was hunting him down. But that cry of pain from the
houndhadblownallourfearstothewinds.Ifhewasvulnerablehewasmortal,andifwecouldwound
himwecouldkillhim.NeverhaveIseenamanrunasHolmesranthatnight.Iamreckonedfleetof
foot,butheoutpacedmeasmuchasIoutpacedthelittleprofessional.Infrontofusasweflewupthe
trackweheardscreamafterscreamfromSirHenryandthedeeproarofthehound.Iwasintimetosee
the beast spring upon its victim, hurl him to the ground, and worry at his throat. But the next instant
Holmeshademptiedfivebarrelsofhisrevolverintothecreature'sflank.Withalasthowlofagonyand
avicioussnapintheair,itrolleduponitsback,fourfeetpawingfuriously,andthenfelllimpuponits
side.Istooped,panting,andpressedmypistoltothedreadful,shimmeringhead,butitwasuselessto
pressthetrigger.Thegianthoundwasdead.

SirHenrylayinsensiblewherehehadfallen.Wetoreawayhiscollar,andHolmesbreathedaprayer

of gratitude when we saw that there was no sign of a wound and that the rescue had been in time.
Alreadyourfriend'seyelidsshiveredandhemadeafeebleefforttomove.Lestradethrusthisbrandy-
flaskbetweenthebaronet'steeth,andtwofrightenedeyeswerelookingupatus.

"MyGod!"hewhispered."Whatwasit?What,inheaven'sname,wasit?"

"It'sdead,whateveritis,"saidHolmes."We'velaidthefamilyghostonceandforever."

Inmeresizeandstrengthitwasaterriblecreaturewhichwaslyingstretchedbeforeus.Itwasnota

purebloodhoundanditwasnotapuremastiff;butitappearedtobeacombinationofthetwo—gaunt,
savage,andaslargeasasmalllioness.Evennowinthestillnessofdeath,thehugejawsseemedtobe
drippingwithabluishflameandthesmall,deep-set,crueleyeswereringedwithfire.Iplacedmyhand
upon the glowing muzzle, and as I held them up my own fingers smouldered and gleamed in the
darkness.

"Phosphorus,"Isaid.

"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
exposedyoutothisfright.Iwaspreparedforahound,butnotforsuchacreatureasthis.Andthefog
gaveuslittletimetoreceivehim."

"Youhavesavedmylife."

"Havingfirstendangeredit.Areyoustrongenoughtostand?"

"GivemeanothermouthfulofthatbrandyandIshallbereadyforanything.So!Now,ifyouwillhelp

meup.Whatdoyouproposetodo?"

"Toleaveyouhere.Youarenotfitforfurtheradventurestonight.Ifyouwillwait,oneorotherofus

willgobackwithyoutotheHall."

Hetriedtostaggertohisfeet;buthewasstillghastlypaleandtremblingineverylimb.Wehelped

himtoarock,wherehesatshiveringwithhisfaceburiedinhishands.

"Wemustleaveyounow,"saidHolmes."Therestofourworkmustbedone,andeverymomentisof

importance.Wehaveourcase,andnowweonlywantourman.

"It'sathousandtooneagainstourfindinghimatthehouse,"hecontinuedasweretracedoursteps

swiftlydownthepath."Thoseshotsmusthavetoldhimthatthegamewasup."

"Weweresomedistanceoff,andthisfogmayhavedeadenedthem."

"Hefollowedthehoundtocallhimoff—ofthatyoumaybecertain.No,no,he'sgonebythistime!

Butwe'llsearchthehouseandmakesure."

The front door was open, so we rushed in and hurried from room to room to the amazement of a

dodderingoldmanservant,whometusinthepassage.Therewasnolightsaveinthedining-room,but
Holmescaughtupthelampandleftnocornerofthehouseunexplored.Nosigncouldweseeoftheman
whomwewerechasing.Ontheupperfloor,however,oneofthebedroomdoorswaslocked.

"There'ssomeoneinhere,"criedLestrade."Icanhearamovement.Openthisdoor!"

Afaintmoaningandrustlingcamefromwithin.Holmesstruckthedoorjustoverthelockwiththe

flatofhisfootanditflewopen.Pistolinhand,weallthreerushedintotheroom.

Buttherewasnosignwithinitofthatdesperateanddefiantvillainwhomweexpectedtosee.Instead

we were faced by an object so strange and so unexpected that we stood for a moment staring at it in
amazement.

Theroomhadbeenfashionedintoasmallmuseum,andthewallswerelinedbyanumberofglass-

topped cases full of that collection of butterflies 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 baulk of timber which
spannedtheroof.Tothispostafigurewastied,soswathedandmuffledinthesheetswhichhadbeen
usedtosecureitthatonecouldnotforthemomenttellwhetheritwasthatofamanorawoman.One

towelpassedroundthethroatandwassecuredatthebackofthepillar.Anothercoveredthelowerpart
oftheface,andoverittwodarkeyes—eyesfullofgriefandshameandadreadfulquestioning—stared
backatus.Inaminutewehadtornoffthegag,unswathedthebonds,andMrs.Stapletonsankuponthe
floor in front of us. As her beautiful head fell upon her chest I saw the clear red weal of a whiplash
acrossherneck.

"Thebrute!"criedHolmes."Here,Lestrade,yourbrandy-bottle!Putherinthechair!Shehasfainted

fromill-usageandexhaustion."

Sheopenedhereyesagain.

"Ishesafe?"sheasked."Hasheescaped?"

"Hecannotescapeus,madam."

"No,no,Ididnotmeanmyhusband.SirHenry?Ishesafe?"

"Yes."

"Andthehound?"

"Itisdead."

Shegavealongsighofsatisfaction.

"ThankGod!ThankGod!Oh,thisvillain!Seehowhehastreatedme!"Sheshotherarmsoutfrom

her sleeves, and we saw with horror that they were all mottled with bruises. "But this is nothing—
nothing!Itismymindandsoulthathehastorturedanddefiled.Icouldendureitall,ill-usage,solitude,
alifeofdeception,everything,aslongasIcouldstillclingtothehopethatIhadhislove,butnowI
know that in this also I have been his dupe and his tool." She broke into passionate sobbing as she
spoke.

"You bear him no good will, madam," said Holmes. "Tell us then where we shall find him. If you

haveeveraidedhiminevil,helpusnowandsoatone."

"Thereisbutoneplacewherehecanhavefled,"sheanswered."Thereisanoldtinmineonanisland

intheheartofthemire.Itwastherethathekepthishoundandtherealsohehadmadepreparationsso
thathemighthavearefuge.Thatiswherehewouldfly."

Thefog-banklaylikewhitewoolagainstthewindow.Holmesheldthelamptowardsit.

"See,"saidhe."NoonecouldfindhiswayintotheGrimpenMiretonight."

Shelaughedandclappedherhands.Hereyesandteethgleamedwithfiercemerriment.

"Hemayfindhiswayin,butneverout,"shecried."Howcanheseetheguidingwandstonight?We

plantedthemtogether,heandI,tomarkthepathwaythroughthemire.Oh,ifIcouldonlyhaveplucked
themouttoday.Thenindeedyouwouldhavehadhimatyourmercy!"

Itwasevidenttousthatallpursuitwasinvainuntilthefoghadlifted.MeanwhileweleftLestradein

possessionofthehousewhileHolmesandIwentbackwiththebaronettoBaskervilleHall.Thestoryof
theStapletonscouldnolongerbewithheldfromhim,buthetooktheblowbravelywhenhelearnedthe
truth about the woman whom he had loved. But the shock of the night's adventures had shattered his
nerves,andbeforemorninghelaydeliriousinahighfeverunderthecareofDr.Mortimer.Thetwoof
themweredestinedtotraveltogetherroundtheworldbeforeSirHenryhadbecomeoncemorethehale,
heartymanthathehadbeenbeforehebecamemasterofthatill-omenedestate.

AndnowIcomerapidlytotheconclusionofthissingularnarrative,inwhichIhavetriedtomakethe

readersharethosedarkfearsandvaguesurmiseswhichcloudedourlivessolongandendedinsotragic
amanner.OnthemorningafterthedeathofthehoundthefoghadliftedandwewereguidedbyMrs.
Stapletontothepointwheretheyhadfoundapathwaythroughthebog.Ithelpedustorealizethehorror

ofthiswoman'slifewhenwesawtheeagernessandjoywithwhichshelaidusonherhusband'strack.
Weleftherstandinguponthethinpeninsulaoffirm,peatysoilwhichtaperedoutintothewidespread
bog.Fromtheendofitasmallwandplantedhereandthereshowedwherethepathzigzaggedfromtuft
to tuft of rushes among those green-scummed pits and foul quagmires which barred the way to the
stranger.Rankreedsandlush,slimywater-plantssentanodourofdecayandaheavymiasmaticvapour
ontoourfaces,whileafalsestepplungedusmorethanoncethigh-deepintothedark,quiveringmire,
whichshookforyardsinsoftundulationsaroundourfeet.Itstenaciousgrippluckedatourheelsaswe
walked, and when we sank into it it was as if some malignant hand was tugging us down into those
obscenedepths,sogrimandpurposefulwastheclutchinwhichitheldus.Onceonlywesawatrace
thatsomeonehadpassedthatperilouswaybeforeus.Fromamidatuftofcottongrasswhichboreitup
outoftheslimesomedarkthingwasprojecting.Holmessanktohiswaistashesteppedfromthepathto
seize it, and had we not been there to drag him out he could never have set his foot upon firm land
again.Heheldanoldblackbootintheair."Meyers,Toronto,"wasprintedontheleatherinside.

"Itisworthamudbath,"saidhe."ItisourfriendSirHenry'smissingboot."

"ThrowntherebyStapletoninhisflight."

"Exactly. He retained it in his hand after using it to set the hound upon the track. He fled when he

knewthegamewasup,stillclutchingit.Andhehurleditawayatthispointofhisflight.Weknowat
leastthathecamesofarinsafety."

Butmorethanthatwewereneverdestinedtoknow,thoughtherewasmuchwhichwemightsurmise.

Therewasnochanceoffindingfootstepsinthemire,fortherisingmudoozedswiftlyinuponthem,but
asweatlastreachedfirmergroundbeyondthemorasswealllookedeagerlyforthem.Butnoslightest
signofthemevermetoureyes.Iftheearthtoldatruestory,thenStapletonneverreachedthatislandof
refugetowardswhichhestruggledthroughthefoguponthatlastnight.Somewhereintheheartofthe
greatGrimpenMire,downinthefoulslimeofthehugemorasswhichhadsuckedhimin,thiscoldand
cruel-heartedmanisforeverburied.

Manytraceswefoundofhiminthebog-girtislandwherehehadhidhissavageally.Ahugedriving-

wheelandashafthalf-filledwithrubbishshowedthepositionofanabandonedmine.Besideitwerethe
crumbling remains of the cottages of the miners, driven away no doubt by the foul reek of the
surroundingswamp.Inoneoftheseastapleandchainwithaquantityofgnawedbonesshowedwhere
the animal had been confined. A skeleton with a tangle of brown hair adhering to it lay among the
debris.

"Adog!"saidHolmes."ByJove,acurly-hairedspaniel.PoorMortimerwillneverseehispetagain.

Well,Idonotknowthatthisplacecontainsanysecretwhichwehavenotalreadyfathomed.Hecould
hidehishound,buthecouldnothushitsvoice,andhencecamethosecrieswhichevenindaylightwere
notpleasanttohear.Onanemergencyhecouldkeepthehoundintheout-houseatMerripit,butitwas
alwaysarisk,anditwasonlyonthesupremeday,whichheregardedastheendofallhisefforts,thathe
dareddoit.Thispasteinthetinisnodoubttheluminousmixturewithwhichthecreaturewasdaubed.
Itwassuggested,ofcourse,bythestoryofthefamilyhell-hound,andbythedesiretofrightenoldSir
Charlestodeath.Nowonderthepoordevilofaconvictranandscreamed,evenasourfrienddid,andas
weourselvesmighthavedone,whenhesawsuchacreatureboundingthroughthedarknessofthemoor
uponhistrack.Itwasacunningdevice,for,apartfromthechanceofdrivingyourvictimtohisdeath,
whatpeasantwouldventuretoinquiretoocloselyintosuchacreatureshouldhegetsightofit,asmany
havedone,uponthemoor?IsaiditinLondon,Watson,andIsayitagainnow,thatneveryethavewe
helped to hunt down a more dangerous man than he who is lying yonder"—he swept his long arm
towardsthehugemottledexpanseofgreen-splotchedbogwhichstretchedawayuntilitmergedintothe
russetslopesofthemoor.

Chapter15.ARetrospection

ItwastheendofNovember,andHolmesandIsat,uponarawandfoggynight,oneithersideofa

blazingfireinoursitting-roominBakerStreet.SincethetragicupshotofourvisittoDevonshirehehad
beenengagedintwoaffairsoftheutmostimportance,inthefirstofwhichhehadexposedtheatrocious
conductofColonelUpwoodinconnectionwiththefamouscardscandaloftheNonpareilClub,whilein
thesecondhehaddefendedtheunfortunateMme.Montpensierfromthechargeofmurderwhichhung
overherinconnectionwiththedeathofherstep-daughter,Mlle.Carere,theyoungladywho,asitwill
beremembered,wasfoundsixmonthslateraliveandmarriedinNewYork.Myfriendwasinexcellent
spiritsoverthesuccesswhichhadattendedasuccessionofdifficultandimportantcases,sothatIwas
able to induce him to discuss the details of the Baskerville mystery. I had waited patiently for the
opportunityforIwasawarethathewouldneverpermitcasestooverlap,andthathisclearandlogical
mindwouldnotbedrawnfromitspresentworktodwelluponmemoriesofthepast.SirHenryandDr.
Mortimerwere,however,inLondon,ontheirwaytothatlongvoyagewhichhadbeenrecommended
fortherestorationofhisshatterednerves.Theyhadcalleduponusthatveryafternoon,sothatitwas
naturalthatthesubjectshouldcomeupfordiscussion.

"Thewholecourseofevents,"saidHolmes,"fromthepointofviewofthemanwhocalledhimself

Stapleton was simple and direct, although to us, who had no means in the beginning of knowing the
motivesofhisactionsandcouldonlylearnpartofthefacts,itallappearedexceedinglycomplex.Ihave
had the advantage of two conversations with Mrs. Stapleton, and the case has now been so entirely
clearedupthatIamnotawarethatthereisanythingwhichhasremainedasecrettous.Youwillfinda
fewnotesuponthematterundertheheadingBinmyindexedlistofcases."

"Perhapsyouwouldkindlygivemeasketchofthecourseofeventsfrommemory."

"Certainly, though I cannot guarantee that I carry all the facts in my mind. Intense mental

concentrationhasacuriouswayofblottingoutwhathaspassed.Thebarristerwhohashiscaseathis
fingers'endsandisabletoarguewithanexpertuponhisownsubjectfindsthataweekortwoofthe
courts will drive it all out of his head once more. So each of my cases displaces the last, and Mlle.
Carere has blurred my recollection of Baskerville Hall. Tomorrow some other little problem may be
submittedtomynoticewhichwillinturndispossessthefairFrenchladyandtheinfamousUpwood.So
farasthecaseofthehoundgoes,however,IwillgiveyouthecourseofeventsasnearlyasIcan,and
youwillsuggestanythingwhichImayhaveforgotten.

"Myinquiriesshowbeyondallquestionthatthefamilyportraitdidnotlie,andthatthisfellowwas

indeedaBaskerville.HewasasonofthatRodgerBaskerville,theyoungerbrotherofSirCharles,who
fledwithasinisterreputationtoSouthAmerica,wherehewassaidtohavediedunmarried.Hedid,asa
matter of fact, marry, and had one child, this fellow, whose real name is the same as his father's. He
marriedBerylGarcia,oneofthebeautiesofCostaRica,and,havingpurloinedaconsiderablesumof
publicmoney,hechangedhisnametoVandeleurandfledtoEngland,whereheestablishedaschoolin
theeastofYorkshire.Hisreasonforattemptingthisspeciallineofbusinesswasthathehadstruckupan
acquaintancewithaconsumptivetutoruponthevoyagehome,andthathehadusedthisman'sabilityto
maketheundertakingasuccess.Fraser,thetutor,diedhowever,andtheschoolwhichhadbegunwell
sankfromdisreputeintoinfamy.TheVandeleursfounditconvenienttochangetheirnametoStapleton,
andhebroughttheremainsofhisfortune,hisschemesforthefuture,andhistasteforentomologytothe
southofEngland.IlearnedattheBritishMuseumthathewasarecognizedauthorityuponthesubject,
andthatthenameofVandeleurhasbeenpermanentlyattachedtoacertainmothwhichhehad,inhis

Yorkshiredays,beenthefirsttodescribe.

"Wenowcometothatportionofhislifewhichhasprovedtobeofsuchintenseinteresttous.The

fellowhadevidentlymadeinquiryandfoundthatonlytwolivesintervenedbetweenhimandavaluable
estate. When he went to Devonshire his plans were, I believe, exceedingly hazy, but that he meant
mischieffromthefirstisevidentfromthewayinwhichhetookhiswifewithhiminthecharacterofhis
sister.Theideaofusingherasadecoywasclearlyalreadyinhismind,thoughhemaynothavebeen
certainhowthedetailsofhisplotweretobearranged.Hemeantintheendtohavetheestate,andhe
wasreadytouseanytoolorrunanyriskforthatend.Hisfirstactwastoestablishhimselfasneartohis
ancestral home as he could, and his second was to cultivate a friendship with Sir Charles Baskerville
andwiththeneighbours.

"Thebaronethimselftoldhimaboutthefamilyhound,andsopreparedthewayforhisowndeath.

Stapleton,asIwillcontinuetocallhim,knewthattheoldman'sheartwasweakandthatashockwould
kill him. So much he had learned from Dr. Mortimer. He had heard also that Sir Charles was
superstitious and had taken this grim legend very seriously. His ingenious mind instantly suggested a
waybywhichthebaronetcouldbedonetodeath,andyetitwouldbehardlypossibletobringhomethe
guilttotherealmurderer.

"Having conceived the idea he proceeded to carry it out with considerable finesse. An ordinary

schemerwouldhavebeencontenttoworkwithasavagehound.Theuseofartificialmeanstomakethe
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
broughtitdownbytheNorthDevonlineandwalkedagreatdistanceoverthemoorsoastogetithome
withoutexcitinganyremarks.HehadalreadyonhisinsecthuntslearnedtopenetratetheGrimpenMire,
andsohadfoundasafehiding-placeforthecreature.Herehekennelleditandwaitedhischance.

"But it was some time coming. The old gentleman could not be decoyed outside of his grounds at

night. Several times Stapleton lurked about with his hound, but without avail. It was during these
fruitlessqueststhathe,orratherhisally,wasseenbypeasants,andthatthelegendofthedemondog
receivedanewconfirmation.HehadhopedthathiswifemightlureSirCharlestohisruin,buthereshe
proved unexpectedly independent. She would not endeavour to entangle the old gentleman in a
sentimentalattachmentwhichmightdeliverhimovertohisenemy.Threatsandeven,Iamsorrytosay,
blows refused to move her. She 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.
LauraLyons.Byrepresentinghimselfasasinglemanheacquiredcompleteinfluenceoverher,andhe
gavehertounderstandthatintheeventofherobtainingadivorcefromherhusbandhewouldmarry
her.HisplansweresuddenlybroughttoaheadbyhisknowledgethatSirCharleswasabouttoleavethe
HallontheadviceofDr.Mortimer,withwhoseopinionhehimselfpretendedtocoincide.Hemustact
atonce,orhisvictimmightgetbeyondhispower.HethereforeputpressureuponMrs.Lyonstowrite
this letter, imploring the old man to give her an interview on the evening before his departure for
London.Hethen,byaspeciousargument,preventedherfromgoing,andsohadthechanceforwhich
hehadwaited.

"DrivingbackintheeveningfromCoombeTraceyhewasintimetogethishound,totreatitwithhis

infernalpaint,andtobringthebeastroundtothegateatwhichhehadreasontoexpectthathewould
findtheoldgentlemanwaiting.Thedog,incitedbyitsmaster,sprangoverthewicket-gateandpursued
theunfortunatebaronet,whofledscreamingdowntheyewalley.Inthatgloomytunnelitmustindeed
have been a dreadful sight to see that huge black creature, with its flaming jaws and blazing eyes,

boundingafteritsvictim.Hefelldeadattheendofthealleyfromheartdiseaseandterror.Thehound
hadkeptuponthegrassyborderwhilethebaronethadrundownthepath,sothatnotrackbuttheman's
wasvisible.Onseeinghimlyingstillthecreaturehadprobablyapproachedtosniffathim,butfinding
himdeadhadturnedawayagain.ItwasthenthatitlefttheprintwhichwasactuallyobservedbyDr.
Mortimer. The hound was called off and hurried away to its lair in the Grimpen Mire, and a mystery
wasleftwhichpuzzledtheauthorities,alarmedthecountryside,andfinallybroughtthecasewithinthe
scopeofourobservation.

"SomuchforthedeathofSirCharlesBaskerville.Youperceivethedevilishcunningofit,forreally

itwouldbealmostimpossibletomakeacaseagainsttherealmurderer.Hisonlyaccomplicewasone
whocouldnevergivehimaway,andthegrotesque,inconceivablenatureofthedeviceonlyservedto
makeitmoreeffective.Bothofthewomenconcernedinthecase,Mrs.StapletonandMrs.LauraLyons,
wereleftwithastrongsuspicionagainstStapleton.Mrs.Stapletonknewthathehaddesignsuponthe
oldman,andalsooftheexistenceofthehound.Mrs.Lyonsknewneitherofthesethings,buthadbeen
impressedbythedeathoccurringatthetimeofanuncancelledappointmentwhichwasonlyknownto
him.However,bothofthemwereunderhisinfluence,andhehadnothingtofearfromthem.Thefirst
halfofhistaskwassuccessfullyaccomplishedbutthemoredifficultstillremained.

"ItispossiblethatStapletondidnotknowoftheexistenceofanheirinCanada.Inanycasehewould

verysoonlearnitfromhisfriendDr.Mortimer,andhewastoldbythelatteralldetailsaboutthearrival
ofHenryBaskerville.Stapleton'sfirstideawasthatthisyoungstrangerfromCanadamightpossiblybe
donetodeathinLondonwithoutcomingdowntoDevonshireatall.Hedistrustedhiswifeeversince
shehadrefusedtohelphiminlayingatrapfortheoldman,andhedarednotleaveherlongoutofhis
sight for fear he should lose his influence over her. It was for this reason that he took her to London
withhim.Theylodged,Ifind,attheMexboroughPrivateHotel,inCravenStreet,whichwasactually
one of those called upon by my agent in search of evidence. Here he kept his wife imprisoned in her
roomwhilehe,disguisedinabeard,followedDr.MortimertoBakerStreetandafterwardstothestation
andtotheNorthumberlandHotel.Hiswifehadsomeinklingofhisplans;butshehadsuchafearofher
husband—afearfoundeduponbrutalill-treatment—thatshedarenotwritetowarnthemanwhomshe
knew to be in danger. If the letter should fall into Stapleton's hands her own life would not be safe.
Eventually, as we know, she adopted the expedient 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
warningofhisdanger.

"It was very essential for Stapleton to get some article of Sir Henry's attire so that, in case he was

driventousethedog,hemightalwayshavethemeansofsettinghimuponhistrack.Withcharacteristic
promptnessandaudacityhesetaboutthisatonce,andwecannotdoubtthatthebootsorchamber-maid
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 instructive incident, since it proved conclusively to my mind that we were
dealingwitharealhound,asnoothersuppositioncouldexplainthisanxietytoobtainanoldbootand
this indifference 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
consideredandscientificallyhandled,theonewhichismostlikelytoelucidateit.

"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 appearance, as well as from his general conduct, I am
inclinedtothinkthatStapleton'scareerofcrimehasbeenbynomeanslimitedtothissingleBaskerville
affair.Itissuggestivethatduringthelastthreeyearstherehavebeenfourconsiderableburglariesinthe
westcountry,fornoneofwhichwasanycriminaleverarrested.Thelastofthese,atFolkestoneCourt,

in May, was remarkable for the cold-blooded pistolling of the page, who surprised the masked and
solitaryburglar.IcannotdoubtthatStapletonrecruitedhiswaningresourcesinthisfashion,andthatfor
yearshehasbeenadesperateanddangerousman.

"We had an example of his readiness of resource that morning when he got away from us so

successfully,andalsoofhisaudacityinsendingbackmyownnametomethroughthecabman.From
that moment he understood that I had taken over the case in London, and that therefore there was no
chanceforhimthere.HereturnedtoDartmoorandawaitedthearrivalofthebaronet."

"Onemoment!"saidI."Youhave,nodoubt,describedthesequenceofeventscorrectly,butthereis

one point which you have left unexplained. What became of the hound when its master was in
London?"

"I have given some attention to this matter and it is undoubtedly of importance. There can be no

questionthatStapletonhadaconfidant,thoughitisunlikelythatheeverplacedhimselfinhispowerby
sharing all his plans with him. There was an old manservant at Merripit House, whose name was
Anthony.HisconnectionwiththeStapletonscanbetracedforseveralyears,asfarbackastheschool-
masteringdays,sothathemusthavebeenawarethathismasterandmistresswerereallyhusbandand
wife.Thismanhasdisappearedandhasescapedfromthecountry.ItissuggestivethatAnthonyisnota
commonnameinEngland,whileAntonioissoinallSpanishorSpanish-Americancountries.Theman,
likeMrs.Stapletonherself,spokegoodEnglish,butwithacuriouslispingaccent.Ihavemyselfseen
thisoldmancrosstheGrimpenMirebythepathwhichStapletonhadmarkedout.Itisveryprobable,
therefore, that in the absence of his master it was he who cared for the hound, though he may never
haveknownthepurposeforwhichthebeastwasused.

"TheStapletonsthenwentdowntoDevonshire,whithertheyweresoonfollowedbySirHenryand

you.OnewordnowastohowIstoodmyselfatthattime.Itmaypossiblyrecurtoyourmemorythat
whenIexaminedthepaperuponwhichtheprintedwordswerefastenedImadeacloseinspectionfor
thewater-mark.IndoingsoIhelditwithinafewinchesofmyeyes,andwasconsciousofafaintsmell
ofthescentknownaswhitejessamine.Thereareseventy-fiveperfumes,whichitisverynecessarythat
acriminalexpertshouldbeabletodistinguishfromeachother,andcaseshavemorethanoncewithin
my own experience depended upon their prompt recognition. The scent suggested the presence of a
lady, and already my thoughts began to turn towards the Stapletons. Thus I had made certain of the
hound,andhadguessedatthecriminalbeforeeverwewenttothewestcountry.

"ItwasmygametowatchStapleton.Itwasevident,however,thatIcouldnotdothisifIwerewith

you,sincehewouldbekeenlyonhisguard.Ideceivedeverybody,therefore,yourselfincluded,andI
came down secretly when I was supposed to be in London. My hardships were not so great as you
imagined,thoughsuchtriflingdetailsmustneverinterferewiththeinvestigationofacase.Istayedfor
themostpartatCoombeTracey,andonlyusedthehutuponthemoorwhenitwasnecessarytobenear
thesceneofaction.Cartwrighthadcomedownwithme,andinhisdisguiseasacountryboyhewasof
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.

"Ihavealreadytoldyouthatyourreportsreachedmerapidly,beingforwardedinstantlyfromBaker

StreettoCoombeTracey.Theywereofgreatservicetome,andespeciallythatoneincidentallytruthful
piece of biography of Stapleton's. I was able to establish the identity of the man and the woman and
knewatlastexactlyhowIstood.Thecasehadbeenconsiderablycomplicatedthroughtheincidentof
the escaped convict and the relations between him and the Barrymores. This also you cleared up in a
veryeffectiveway,thoughIhadalreadycometothesameconclusionsfrommyownobservations.

"By the time that you discovered me upon the moor I had a complete knowledge of the whole

business,butIhadnotacasewhichcouldgotoajury.EvenStapleton'sattemptuponSirHenrythat
night which ended in the death of the unfortunate convict did not help us much in proving murder
againstourman.Thereseemedtobenoalternativebuttocatchhimred-handed,andtodosowehadto
useSirHenry,aloneandapparentlyunprotected,asabait.Wedidso,andatthecostofasevereshock
to our client we succeeded in completing our case and driving Stapleton to his destruction. That Sir
Henryshouldhavebeenexposedtothisis,Imustconfess,areproachtomymanagementofthecase,
butwehadnomeansofforeseeingtheterribleandparalyzingspectaclewhichthebeastpresented,nor
couldwepredictthefogwhichenabledhimtoburstuponusatsuchshortnotice.Wesucceededinour
objectatacostwhichboththespecialistandDr.Mortimerassuremewillbeatemporaryone.Along
journeymayenableourfriendtorecovernotonlyfromhisshatterednervesbutalsofromhiswounded
feelings. His love for the lady was deep and sincere, and to him the saddest part of all this black
businesswasthatheshouldhavebeendeceivedbyher.

"It only remains to indicate the part which she 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
possiblyboth,sincetheyarebynomeansincompatibleemotions.Itwas,atleast,absolutelyeffective.
Athiscommandsheconsentedtopassashissister,thoughhefoundthelimitsofhispoweroverher
whenheendeavouredtomakeherthedirectaccessorytomurder.ShewasreadytowarnSirHenryso
far as she could without implicating her husband, and again and again she tried to do so. Stapleton
himselfseemstohavebeencapableofjealousy,andwhenhesawthebaronetpayingcourttothelady,
eventhoughitwaspartofhisownplan,stillhecouldnothelpinterruptingwithapassionateoutburst
which revealed the fiery soul which his self-contained manner so cleverly concealed. By encouraging
the intimacy he made it certain that Sir Henry would frequently come to Merripit House and that he
wouldsoonerorlatergettheopportunitywhichhedesired.Onthedayofthecrisis,however,hiswife
turnedsuddenlyagainsthim.Shehadlearnedsomethingofthedeathoftheconvict,andsheknewthat
the hound was being kept in the outhouse on the evening that Sir Henry was coming to dinner. She
taxedherhusbandwithhisintendedcrime,andafuriousscenefollowedinwhichheshowedherforthe
firsttimethatshehadarivalinhislove.Herfidelityturnedinaninstanttobitterhatred,andhesawthat
shewouldbetrayhim.Hetiedherup,therefore,thatshemighthavenochanceofwarningSirHenry,
andhehoped,nodoubt,thatwhenthewholecountrysideputdownthebaronet'sdeathtothecurseof
hisfamily,astheycertainlywoulddo,hecouldwinhiswifebacktoacceptanaccomplishedfactandto
keepsilentuponwhatsheknew.InthisIfancythatinanycasehemadeamiscalculation,andthat,ifwe
hadnotbeenthere,hisdoomwouldnonethelesshavebeensealed.AwomanofSpanishblooddoesnot
condonesuchaninjurysolightly.Andnow,mydearWatson,withoutreferringtomynotes,Icannot
giveyouamoredetailedaccountofthiscuriouscase.Idonotknowthatanythingessentialhasbeenleft
unexplained."

"HecouldnothopetofrightenSirHenrytodeathashehaddonetheoldunclewithhisbogiehound."

"Thebeastwassavageandhalf-starved.Ifitsappearancedidnotfrightenitsvictimtodeath,atleast

itwouldparalyzetheresistancewhichmightbeoffered."

"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?Howcouldheclaimitwithoutcausingsuspicionandinquiry?"

"Itisaformidabledifficulty,andIfearthatyouasktoomuchwhenyouexpectmetosolveit.The

pastandthepresentarewithinthefieldofmyinquiry,butwhatamanmaydointhefutureisahard
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, establish his

identitybeforetheBritishauthoritiesthereandsoobtainthefortunewithoutevercomingtoEnglandat
all,orhemightadoptanelaboratedisguiseduringtheshorttimethatheneedbeinLondon;or,again,
hemightfurnishanaccomplicewiththeproofsandpapers,puttinghiminasheir,andretainingaclaim
uponsomeproportionofhisincome.Wecannotdoubtfromwhatweknowofhimthathewouldhave
foundsomewayoutofthedifficulty.Andnow,mydearWatson,wehavehadsomeweeksofsevere
work,andforoneevening,Ithink,wemayturnourthoughtsintomorepleasantchannels.Ihaveabox
for'LesHuguenots.'HaveyouheardtheDeReszkes?MightItroubleyouthentobereadyinhalfan
hour,andwecanstopatMarcini'sforalittledinnerontheway?"

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