THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 ENDOWED BY THE 
 DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC 
 SOCIETIES 
 
 PRU622 
 
 .h6 
 
 1902 
 
 1 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 00043989808 
 
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THE LIBRARY OF THE 
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 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 ENDOWED BY THE 
 DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC 
 SOCIETIES 
 
 823 
 
 D75ho 
 1902 
 
This BOOK may be kept out TTBTO^ 
 ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE 
 CENTS a day thereafter. It is DUE on the 
 DAY indicated below: 
 
 OCT 1* 1974 
 
The Hound of the 
 Baskervilles 
 
I 
 
 A SPECIAL LIMITED EDITION 
 
 The Hound of 
 7"/6^Baskervilles 
 
 ANOTHER ADVENTU RE OF 
 SHERLOCK HOLMES 
 
 By A. CONAN DOYLE 
 
 Author of ^^T*he Adventures of 
 Sherlock Holmes^'' ^^T'he Green Flagyl etc. 
 
 GROSSET £sf DUNLAP 
 
 PUBLISHERS : : NEW YORK 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 https://archive.org/details/houndofbaskervil00doyl_6 
 
My Dear Robinson : 
 
 It was your account of a west country legend 
 which first suggested the Idea of this little tale 
 to iny mind. 
 
 For this, and for the help which you gave me 
 in its evolution, all thanks. 
 
 Yours most truly, 
 
 A. CoNAN Doyle. 
 
A Table of the Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. Mr. Sherlock Holmes i 
 
 II. The Curse of the Baskervilles . . . , ii 
 
 III. The Problem . 27 
 
 IV. Sir Henry Baskerville 41 
 
 V. Three Broken Threads. . , . . . . . 59 
 
 VI. Baskerville Hall 75 
 
 VII. The Stapletons of Merripit House ... 89 
 
 VIII. First Report of Dr. Watson .110 
 
 IX. The Light Upon the Moor 121 
 
 X. Extract from the Diary of Dr. Watson . 147 
 
 XI. The Man on the Tor 162 
 
 XII. Death on the Moor ......... 181 
 
 XIII. Fixing the Nets . . . . . . . . . . 199 
 
 .XIV. The Hound of the Baskervilles .... 217 
 
 XV. A Retrospection 234 
 
The Hound of the 
 Baskervilles 
 
I 
 
 Mr. Sherlock Holmes 
 
 MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES, who was 
 usually very late in the mornings, save up- 
 on those not infrequent occasions when he 
 was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. 
 I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick 
 which our visitor had left behind him the night be- 
 fore. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous- 
 headed, of the sort which is known as a " Penang 
 lawyer.'' Just under the head was a broad silver 
 band, nearly an inch across. " To James Mortimer, 
 M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.,'' was en- 
 graved upon it, with the date 1884." It was just 
 such a stick as the old-fashioned family practitioner 
 used to carry — dignified, solid, and reassuring. 
 Well, Watson, what do you make of it? " 
 Holmes was sitting with his back to me, and I 
 had given him no sign of my occupation. 
 
 " How did you know what I was doing? I be- 
 lieve you have eyes in the back of your head.'* 
 
 " I have, at least, a well-polished silver-plated 
 coffee-pot in front of me," said he. But, tell me, 
 Watson, what do you make of our visitor's stick? 
 Since we have been so unfortunate as to miss him 
 and have no notion of his errand, this accidental 
 
 I 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 souvenir becomes of importance. Let me hear you 
 reconstruct the man by an examination of it." 
 
 I think," said I, following as far as I could the 
 methods of my companion, that Dr. Mortimer is 
 a successful elderly medical man, well-esteemed, 
 since those who know him give him this mark of 
 their appreciation." 
 
 " Good ! " said Holmes. " Excellent ! " 
 I think also that the probability is in favour of 
 his being a country practitioner who does a great 
 deal of his visiting on foot." 
 
 **Whyso?" 
 
 " Because this stick, though originally a very 
 handsome one, has been so knocked about that I 
 can hardly imagine a town practitioner carrying it. 
 The thick iron ferrule is worn down, so it is evident 
 that he has done a great amount of walking with it." 
 Perfectly sound ! " said Holmes. 
 And then again, there is the ' friends of the 
 C.C.H.' I should guess that to be the Something 
 Hunt, the local hunt to whose members he has pos- 
 sibly given some surgical assistance, and which has 
 made him a small presentation in return." 
 
 " Really, Watson, you excel yourself," said 
 Holmes, pushing back his chair and lighting a cigar- 
 ette. I am bound to say that in all the accounts 
 which you have been so good as to give of my own 
 small achievements you have habitually underrated 
 your own abilities. It may be that you are not 
 yourself luminous, but you are a conductor of light. 
 
 2 
 
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES 
 
 Some people without possessing genius have a re- 
 markable power of stimulating it. I confess, my 
 dear fellow, that I am very much in your debt." 
 
 He had never said as much before, and I must 
 admit that his words gave me keen pleasure, for I 
 had often been piqued by his indifTerence to my ad- 
 miration and to the attempts which I had made to 
 give publicity to his methods. I was proud too to 
 think that I had so far mastered his system as to 
 apply it in a way which earned his approval. He 
 now took the stick from my hands and examined it 
 for a few minutes with his naked eyes. Then with 
 an expression of interest he laid down his cigarette 
 and, carrying the cane to the window, he looked 
 over it again with a convex lens. 
 
 " Interesting, though elementary," said he, as he 
 returned to his favourite corner of the settee. 
 " There are certainly one or two indications upon 
 the stick. It gives us the basis for several deduc- 
 tions." 
 
 Has anything escaped me? " I asked, with some 
 self-importance. " I trust that there is nothing of 
 consequence which I have overlooked? " 
 
 " I am afraid, my dear Watson, that most of your 
 conclusions were erroneous. When I said that you 
 stimulated me I meant, to be frank, that in noting 
 your fallacies I was occasionally guided towards the 
 truth. Not that you are entirely wrong in this in- 
 stance. The man is certainly a country practi- 
 tioner. And he walks a good deal." 
 
 3 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Then I was right/' 
 
 To that extent." 
 " But that was all/' 
 
 No, no, my dear Watson, not all — by no means 
 all. I would suggest, for example, that a presenta- 
 tion to a doctor is more likely to come from a 
 hospital than from a hunt, and that when the in- 
 itials * C.C are placed before that hospital the 
 words ' Charing Cross ' very naturally suggest 
 themselves.'' 
 
 You may be right." 
 " The probability lies in that direction. And if 
 we take this as a working hypothesis we have a fresh 
 basis from which to start our construction of this 
 unknown visitor." 
 
 " Well, then, supposing that ' C.C.H.' does stand 
 for ' Charing Cross Hospital,' what further infer- 
 ences may we draw? " 
 
 " Do none suggest themselves? You know my 
 methods. Apply them! " 
 
 I can only think of the obvious conclusion that 
 the man has practised in town before going to the 
 country." 
 
 " I think that we might venture a little farther 
 than this. Look at it in this light. On what occa- 
 sion would it be most probable that such a presenta- 
 tion would be made? When would his friends unite 
 to give him a pledge of their good will? Obviously 
 at the moment when Dr. Mortimer withdrew from 
 the service of the hospital in order to start in prac- 
 
 4 
 
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES 
 
 tice for himself. We know there has been a pres- 
 entation. We believe there has been a change 
 from a town hospital to a country practice. Is it, 
 then, stretching our inference too far to say that the 
 presentation was on the occasion of the change? 
 It certainly seems probable.'' 
 
 " Now, you will observe that he could not have 
 been on the staff of the hospital, since only a man 
 well-established in a London practice could hold 
 such a position, and such a one would not drift into 
 the country. What was he, then? If he was in 
 the hospital and yet not on the staff he could only 
 have been a house-surgeon or a house-physician — 
 little more than a senior student. And he left five 
 years ago — the date is on the stick. So your grave, 
 middle-aged family practitioner vanishes into thin 
 air, my dear Watson, and there emerges a young 
 fellow under thirty, amiable, unambitious, absent- 
 minded, and the possessor of a favourite dog, which 
 I should describe roughly as being larger than a 
 terrier and smaller than a mastiff.'' 
 
 I laughed incredulously as Sherlock Holmes 
 leaned back in his settee and blew little wavering 
 rings of smoke up to the ceiling. 
 
 " As to the latter part, I have no means of check- 
 ing you," said I, ^' but at least it is not difficult to 
 find out a few particulars about the man's age and 
 professional career." From my small medical shelf 
 I took down the Medical Directory and turned up 
 the name. There were several Mortimers, but only 
 
 5 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 one who could be our visitor. I read his record 
 aloud. 
 
 " Mortimer, James, M.R.C.S., 1882, Grimpen, 
 Dartmoor, Devon. House surgeon, from 1882 to 
 1884, at Charing Cross Hospital. Winner of the 
 Jackson prize for Comparative Pathology, with es- 
 say entitled ' Is Disease a Reversion? ' Correspond- 
 ing member of the Swedish Pathological Society. 
 Author of * Some Freaks of Atavism * {Lancet, 
 1882). ' Do We Progress? ' {Journal of Psychol- 
 ogy , March, 1883). Medical Officer for the par- 
 ishes of Grimpen, Thorsley, and High Barrow.*' 
 
 No mention of that local hunt, Watson," said 
 Holmes, with a mischievous smile, " but a country 
 doctor, as you very astutely observed. I think that 
 I am fairly justified in my inferences. As to the 
 adjectives, I said, if I remember right, amiable, un- 
 ambitious, and absent-minded. It is my experience 
 that it is only an amiable man in this world who 
 receives testimonials, only an unambitious one who 
 abandons a London career for the country, and only 
 an absent-minded one who leaves his stick and not 
 his visiting-card after waiting an hour in your 
 room." 
 
 " And the dog? " 
 Has been in the habit of carrying this stick be- 
 hind his master. Being a heavy stick the dog has 
 held it tightly by the middle, and the marks of his 
 teeth are very plainly visible. The dog's jaw, as 
 shown in the space between these marks, is too 
 
 6 
 
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES 
 
 broad in my opinion for a terrier and not broad 
 enough for a mastiff. It may have been^ — yes, by 
 Jove, it is a curly-haired spaniel/' 
 
 He had risen and paced the room as he spoke. 
 Now he halted in the recess of the window. There 
 was such a ring of conviction in his voice that I 
 glanced up in surprise. 
 
 My dear fellow, how can you possibly be so 
 sure of that? " 
 
 For the very simple reason that I see the dog 
 himself on our very door-step, and there is the ring 
 of its owner. Don't move, I beg you, Watson. 
 He is a professional brother of yours, and your pres- 
 ence may be of assistance to me. Now is the dra- 
 matic moment of fate, Watson, when you hear a 
 step upon the stair which is walking into your life, 
 and you know not whether for good or ill. What 
 does Dr. James Mortimer, the man of science, ask 
 of Sherlock Holmes, the speciaHst in crime? Come 
 in!" 
 
 The appearance of our visitor was a surprise to 
 me, since I had expected a typical country practi- 
 tioner. He was a very tall, thin man, with a long 
 nose like a beak, which jutted out between two 
 keen, grey eyes, set closely together and sparkling 
 brightly from behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. 
 He was clad in a professional but rather slovenly 
 fashion, for his frock-coat was dingy and his trousers 
 frayed. Though young, his long back was already 
 bowed, and he walked with a forward thrust of his 
 
 7 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 head and a general air of peering benevolence. As 
 he entered his eyes fell upon the stick in Holmes's 
 hand, and he ran towards it with an exclamation 
 of joy. I am so very glad/' said he. I was not 
 sure whether I had left it here or in the Shipping 
 Office. I would not lose that stick for the world." 
 A presentation, I see," said Holmes. 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 " From Charing Cross Hospital? " 
 
 " From one or two friends there on the occasion 
 of my marriage." 
 
 " Dear, dear, that's bad! " said Holmes, shaking 
 his head. 
 
 Dr. Mortimer blinked through his glasses in mild 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Why was it bad? " 
 
 " Only that you have disarranged our little de- 
 ductions. Your marriage, you say? " 
 
 Yes, sir. I married, and so left the hospital, 
 and with it all hopes of a consulting practice. It 
 was necessary to make a home of my own." 
 
 Come, come, we are not so far wrong after all," 
 said Holmes. And now, Dr. James Morti- 
 
 " Mister, sir, Mister— a humble M.R.C.S." 
 
 " And a man of precise mind, evidently." 
 
 "A dabbler in science, Mr. Holmes, a picker up 
 of shells on the shores of the great unknown ocean. 
 I presume that it is Mr. Sherlock Holmes whom I 
 
 am addressing and not " 
 
 8 
 
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES 
 
 No, this is my friend Dr. Watson/' 
 " Glad to meet you, sir. I have heard your name 
 mentioned in connection with that of your friend. 
 You interest me very much, Mr. Holmes. I had 
 hardly expected so dolichocephalic a skull or such 
 well-marked supra-orbital development. Would 
 you have any objection to my running my finger 
 along your parietal fissure? A cast of your skull, 
 sir, until the original is available, would be an orna- 
 ment to any anthropological museum. It is not my 
 intention to be fulsome, but I confess that I covet 
 your skull.'' 
 
 Sherlock Holmes waved our strange visitor into 
 a chair. You are an enthusiast in your line of 
 thought, I perceive, sir, as I am in mine," said he. 
 " I observe from your forefinger that you make 
 your own cigarettes. Have no hesitation in light- 
 ing one." 
 
 The man drew out paper and tobacco and twirled 
 the one up in the other with surprising dexterity. 
 He had long, quivering fingers as agile and restless 
 as the antennae of an insect. 
 
 Holmes was silent, but his little darting glances 
 showed me the interest which he took in our curious 
 companion. 
 
 I presume, sir," said he at last, " that it was not 
 merely for the purpose of examining my skull that 
 you have done me the honour to call here last night 
 and again to-day? " 
 
 "No, sir, no; though I am happy to have had 
 
 9 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 the opportunity of doing that as well. I came to 
 you, Mr. Holmes, because I recognised that I am 
 myself an unpractical man, and because I am sud- 
 denly confronted with a most serious and extraor- 
 dinary problem. Recognising, as I do, that you are 
 the second highest expert in Europe " 
 
 " Indeed, sir! May I inquire who has the honour 
 to be the first? asked Holmes, with some asperity. 
 
 To the man of precisely scientific mind the work 
 of Monsieur Bertillon must always appeal strongly." 
 
 " Then had you not better consult him? " 
 I said, sir, to the precisely scientific mind. But 
 as a practical man of affairs it is acknowledged that 
 you stand alone. I trust, sir, that I have not inad- 
 vertently " 
 
 " Just a little,'' said Holmes. " I think, Dr. Mor- 
 timer, you would do wisely if without more ado you 
 would kindly tell me plainly what the exact nature 
 of the problem is in which you demand my assist- 
 ance.'' 
 
 lO 
 
II 
 
 The Curse of the Baskervilles 
 
 I HAVE in my pocket a manuscript/' said Dr. 
 James Mortimer. 
 I observed it as you entered the room," 
 said Holmes. 
 
 It is an old manuscript." 
 
 Early eighteenth century, unless it is a forgery." 
 
 " How can you say that, sir? " 
 
 " You have presented an inch or two of it to my 
 examination all the time that you have been talk- 
 ing. It would be a poor expert who could not give 
 the date of a document within a decade or so. You 
 may possibly have read my little monograph upon 
 the subject. I put that at 1730." 
 
 ''The exact date is 1742." Dr. Mortimer drew 
 it from his breast-pocket. " This family paper was 
 committed to my care by Sir Charles Baskerville, 
 whose sudden and tragic death some three months 
 ago created so much excitement in Devonshire. I 
 may say that I was his personal friend as well as his 
 medical attendant. He was a strong-minded man, 
 sir, shrewd, practical, and as unimaginative as I am 
 myself. Yet he took this document very seriously, 
 and his mind was prepared for just such an end as 
 did eventually overtake him." 
 
 II 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Holmes stretched out his hand for the manuscript 
 and flattened it upon his knee. 
 
 " You will observe, Watson, the alternative use 
 of the long s and the short. It is one of several 
 indications which enabled me to fix the date." 
 
 I looked over his shoulder at the yellow paper 
 and the faded script. At the head was written: 
 
 Baskerville Hall," and below, in large, scrawling 
 figures: " 1742." 
 
 " It appears to be a statement of some sort." 
 Yes, it is a statement of a certain legend which 
 runs in the Baskerville family." 
 
 " But I understand that it is something more 
 modern and practical upon which you wish to con- 
 sult me? " 
 
 " Most modern. A most practical, pressing mat- 
 ter, which must be decided within twenty-four 
 hours. But the manuscript is short and is intimate- 
 ly connected with the affair. With your permission 
 I will read it to you." 
 
 Holmes leaned back in his chair, placed his fin- 
 ger-tips together, and closed his eyes, with an air 
 of resignation. Dr. Mortimer turned the manu- 
 script to the light and read in a high, crackling voice 
 the following curious, old-world narrative:— 
 
 " Of the origin of the Hound of the Baskervilles 
 there have been many statements, yet as I come in 
 a direct line from Hugo Baskerville, and as I had 
 the story from my father, who also had it from his, 
 I have set it down with all belief that it occurred 
 
 12 
 
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 even as is here set forth. And I would have you 
 believe, my sons, that the same Justice which pun- 
 ishes sin may also most graciously forgive it, and 
 that no ban is so heavy but that by prayer and re- 
 pentance it may be removed. Learn then from this 
 story not to fear the fruits of the past, but rather 
 to be circumspect in the future, that those foul pas- 
 sions whereby our family has suffered so grievously 
 may not again be loosed to our undoing. 
 
 " Know then that in the time of the Great Re- 
 bellion (the history of which by the learned Lord 
 Clarendon I most earnestly commend to your at- 
 tention) this Manor of Baskerville was held by 
 Hugo of that name, nor can it be gainsaid that he 
 was a most wild, profane, and godless man. This, 
 in truth, his neighbours might have pardoned, see- 
 ing that saints have never flourished in those parts, 
 but there was in him a certain wanton and cruel 
 humour which made his name a byword through 
 the West. It chanced that this Hugo came to love 
 (if, indeed, so dark a passion may be known under 
 so bright a name) the daughter of a yeoman who 
 held lands near the Baskerville estate. But the 
 young maiden, being discreet and of good repute, 
 would ever avoid him, for she feared his evil name. 
 So it came to pass that one Michaelmas this Hugo, 
 with five or six of his idle and wicked companions, 
 stole down upon the farm and carried off the maid- 
 en, her father and brothers being from home, as he 
 well knew. When they had brought her to the 
 
 13 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Hall the maiden was placed in an upper chamber, 
 while Hugo and his friends sat down to a long 
 carouse, as was their nightly custom. Now, the 
 poor lass upstairs was like to have her wits turned 
 at the singing and shouting and terrible oaths which 
 came up to her from below, for they say that the 
 words used by Hugo Baskerville, when he was in 
 wine, were such as might blast the man who said 
 them. At last in the stress of her fear she did that 
 which might have daunted the bravest or most 
 active man, for by the aid of the growth of ivy 
 which covered (and still covers) the south wall she 
 came down from under the eaves, and so homeward 
 across the moor, there being three leagues betwixt 
 the Hall and her father's farm. 
 
 It chanced that some little time later Hugo left 
 his guests to carry food and drink — with other worse 
 things, perchance — to his captive, and so found the 
 cage empty and the bird escaped. Then, as it would 
 seem, he became as one that hath a devil, for, rush- 
 ing down the stairs into the dining-hall, he sprang 
 upon the great table, flagons and trenchers flying 
 before him, and he cried aloud before all the com- 
 pany that he would that very night render his body 
 and soul to the Powers of Evil if he might but over- 
 take the wench. And while the revellers stood 
 aghast at the fury of the man, one more wicked or, 
 it may be, more drunken than the rest, cried out 
 that they should put the hounds upon her. Where- 
 at Hugo ran from the house, crying to his grooms 
 
 14 
 
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 that they should saddle his mare and unkennel the 
 pack, and giving the hounds a kerchief of the maid's, 
 he swung them to the line, and so of? full cry in the 
 moonlight over the moor. 
 
 " Now, for some space the revellers stood agape, 
 unable to understand all that had been done in such 
 haste. But anon their bemused wits awoke to the 
 nature of the deed which was like to be done upon 
 the moorlands. Everything was now in an uproar, 
 some calling for their pistols, some for their horses, 
 and some for another flask of wine. But at length 
 some sense came back to their crazed minds, and 
 the whole of them, thirteen in number, took horse 
 and started in pursuit. The moon shone clear 
 above them, and they rode swiftly abreast, taking 
 that course which the maid must needs have taken 
 if she were to reach her own home. 
 
 They had gone a mile or two when they passed 
 one of the night shepherds upon the moorlands, and 
 they cried to him to know if he had seen the hunt. 
 And the man, as the story goes, was so crazed with 
 fear that he could scarce speak, but at last he said 
 that he had indeed seen the unhappy maiden, with 
 the hounds upon her track. ' But I have seen more 
 than that,' said he, ' for Hugo Baskerville passed 
 me upon his black mare, and there ran mute behind 
 him such a hound of hell as God forbid should ever 
 be at my heels.' So the drunken squires cursed the 
 shepherd and rode onwards. But soon their skins 
 turned cold, for there came a galloping across the 
 
 IS 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 moor, and the black mare, dabbled with white froth, 
 went past with trailing bridle and empty saddle. 
 Then the revellers rode close together, for a great 
 fear was on them, but they still followed over the 
 moor, though each, had he been alone, would have 
 been right glad to have turned his horse's head. 
 Riding slowly in this fashion they came at last upon 
 the hounds. These, though known for their valour 
 and their breed, were whimpering in a cluster at the 
 head of a deep dip or goyal, as we call it, upon the 
 moor, some slinking away and some, with starting 
 hackles and staring eyes, gazing down the narrow 
 valley before them. 
 
 " The company had come to a halt, more sober 
 men, as you may guess, than when they started. 
 The most of them would by no means advance, but 
 three of them, the boldest, or it may be the most 
 drunken, rode forward down the goyal. Now, it 
 opened into a broad space in which stood two of 
 those great stones, still to be seen there, which were 
 set by certain forgotten peoples in the days of old. 
 The moon was shining bright upon the clearing, and 
 there in the centre lay the unhappy maid where she 
 had fallen, dead of fear and of fatigue. But it was 
 not the sight of her body, nor yet was it that of the 
 body of Hugo Baskerville lying near her, which 
 raised the hair upon the heads of these three dare- 
 devil roysterers, but it was that, standing over 
 Hugo, and plucking at his throat, there stood a foul 
 thing, a great, black beast, shaped like a hound, yet 
 
 i6 
 
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 larger than any hound that ever mortal eye has 
 rested upon. And even as they looked the thing 
 tore the throat out of Hugo Baskerville, on which, 
 as it turned its blazing eyes and dripping jaws upon 
 them, the three shrieked with fear and rode for dear 
 life, still screaming, across the moor. One, it is 
 said, died that very night of what he had seen, and 
 the other twain were but broken men for the rest 
 of their days. 
 
 " Such is the tale, my sons, of the coming of the 
 hound which is said to have plagued the family so 
 sorely ever since. If I have set it down it is be- 
 cause that which is clearly known hath less terror 
 than that which is but hinted at and guessed. Nor 
 can it be denied that many of the family have been 
 unhappy in their deaths, which have been sudden, 
 bloody, and mysterious. Yet may we shelter out- 
 selves in the infinite goodness of Providence, which 
 would not forever punish the innocent beyond that 
 third or fourth generation which is threatened 
 in Holy Writ. To that Providence, my sons, I 
 hereby commend you, and I counsel you by 
 way of caution to forbear from crossing the moor 
 in those dark hours when the powers of evil are 
 exalted. 
 
 " [This from Hugo Baskerville to his sons 
 Rodger and John, with instructions that they say 
 nothing thereof to their sister Elizabeth.] " 
 
 When Dr. Mortimer had finished reading this 
 singular narrative he pushed his spectacles up on 
 
 17 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 his forehead and stared across at Mr. Sherlock 
 Holmes. The latter yawned and tossed the end 
 of his cigarette into the fire. 
 
 Well?'' said he. 
 ) " Do you not find it interesting? '' 
 " To a collector of fairy tales." 
 Dr. Mortimer drew a folded newspaper out of his 
 pocket. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Holmes, we will give you something 
 a little more recent. This is the Devon County 
 Chronicle of May 14th of this year. It is a short 
 account of the facts elicited at the death of Sir 
 Charles Baskerville which occurred a few days be- 
 fore that date.'' 
 
 My friend leaned a little forward and his expres- 
 sion became intent. Our visitor readjusted his 
 glasses and began: — 
 
 " The recent sudden death of Sir Charles Basker- 
 ville, whose name has been mentioned as the prob- 
 able Liberal candidate for Mid-Devon at the next 
 election, has cast a gloom over the county. Though 
 Sir Charles had resided at Baskerville Hall for a 
 comparatively short period his amiability of charac- 
 ter and extreme generosity had won the afifection 
 and respect of all who had been brought into con- 
 tact with him. In these days of nouveaux riches it 
 is refreshing to find a case where the scion of an old 
 county family which has fallen upon evil days is able 
 to make his own fortune and to bring it back with 
 him to restore the fallen grandeur of his line. Sir 
 
 18 
 
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Charles, as is well known, made large sums of money 
 in South African speculation. More wise than 
 those who go on until the wheel turns against them, 
 he realized his gains and returned to England with 
 them. It is only two years since he took up his 
 residence at Baskerville Hall, and it is common talk 
 how large were those schemes of reconstruction and 
 improvement which have been interrupted by his 
 death. Being himself childless, it was his openly 
 expressed desire that the whole countryside should, 
 within his own lifetime, profit by his good fortune, 
 and many will have personal reasons for bewailing 
 his untimely end. His generous donations to local 
 and county charities have been frequently chroni- 
 cled in these columns. 
 
 The circumstances connected with the death of 
 Sir Charles cannot be said to have been entirely 
 cleared up by the inquest, but at least enough has 
 been done to dispose of those rumours to which 
 local superstition has given rise. There is no rea- 
 son whatever to suspect foul play, or to imagine that 
 death could be from any but natural causes. Sir 
 Charles was a widower, and a man who may be said 
 to have been in some ways of an eccentric habit of 
 mind. In spite of his considerable wealth he was 
 simple in his personal tastes, and his indoor servants 
 at Baskerville Hall consisted of a married couple 
 named Barrymore, the husband acting as butler and 
 the wife as housekeeper. Their evidence, corrobo- 
 rated by that of several friends, tends to show that 
 
 19 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Sir Charles's health has for some time been im- 
 paired, and points especially to some affection of the 
 heart, manifesting itself in changes of colour, breath- 
 lessness, and acute attacks of nervous depression. 
 Dr. James Mortimer, the friend and medical at- 
 tendant of the deceased, has given evidence to the 
 same effect. 
 
 " The facts of the case are simple. Sir Charles 
 Baskerville was in the habit every night before go- 
 ing to bed of walking down the famous Yew Alley 
 of Baskerville Hall. The evidence of the Barry- 
 mores shows that this had been his custom. On 
 the 4th of May Sir Charles had declared his inten- 
 tion of starting next day for London, and had or- 
 dered Barrymore to prepare his luggage. That 
 night he went out as usual for his nocturnal walk, 
 in the course of which he was in the habit of smok- 
 ing a cigar. He never returned. At twelve o'clock 
 Barrymore, finding the hall door still open, became 
 alarmed, and, lighting a lantern, went in search of 
 his master. The day had been wet, and Sir 
 Charles's footmarks were easily traced down the Al- 
 ley. Half-way down this walk there is a gate which 
 leads out on to the moor. There were indications 
 that Sir Charles had stood for some little time here. 
 He then proceeded down the Alley, and it was at 
 the far end of it that his body was discovered. One 
 fact which has not been explained is the statement 
 of Barrymore that his master's footprints altered 
 their character from the time that he 'passed the 
 
 20 
 
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 moor-gate, and that he appeared from thence on- 
 wards to have been walking upon his toes. One 
 Murphy, a gipsy horse-dealer, was on the moor at 
 no great distance at the time, but he appears by his 
 own confession to have been the worse for drink. 
 He declares that he heard cries, but is unable to 
 state from wha"^ direction they came. No signs of 
 violence were to be discovered upon Sir Charles's 
 person, and though the doctor's evidence pointed 
 to an almost incredible facial distortion — so great 
 that Dr. Mortimer refused at first to believe that it 
 was indeed his friend and patient who lay before 
 him — it was explained that that is a symptom which 
 is not unusual in cases of dyspnoea and death 
 from cardiac exhaustion. This explanation was 
 borne out by the post-mortem examination, which 
 showed long-standing organic disease, and the coro- 
 ner's jury returned a verdict in accordance with the 
 medical evidence. It is well that this is so, for it 
 is obviously of the utmost importance that Sir 
 Charles's heir should settle at the Hall and continue 
 the good work which has been so sadly interrupted. 
 Had the prosaic finding of the coroner not finally 
 put an end to the romantic stories which have been 
 whispered in connection with the affair, it might 
 have been difficult to find a tenant for Baskerville 
 Hall. It is understood that the next-of-kin is Mr. 
 Henry Baskerville, if he be still alive, the son of Sir 
 Charles Baskerville's younger brother. The young 
 man when last heard of was in America, and in- 
 
 21 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 quiries are being instituted with a view to inform- 
 ing him of his good fortune." 
 
 Dr. Mortimer refolded his paper and replaced it 
 in his pocket. 
 
 Those are the public facts, Mr. Holmes, in con- 
 nection with the death of Sir Charles Baskerville." 
 
 " I must thank you," said Sherlock Holmes, for 
 calling my attention to a case which certainly pre- 
 sents some features of interest. I had observed 
 some newspaper comment at the time, but I was ex- 
 ceedingly preoccupied by that little affair of the 
 Vatican cameos, and in my anxiety to oblige the 
 Pope I lost touch with several interesting English 
 cases. This article, you say, contains all the public 
 facts? " 
 
 " It does." 
 
 Then let me have the private ones." He 
 leaned back, put his finger-tips together, and as- 
 sumed his most impassive and judicial expression. 
 
 " In doing so," said Dr. Mortimer, who had be- 
 gun to show signs of some strong emotion, " I am 
 telling that which I have not confided to anyone. 
 My motive for withholding it from the coroner's 
 inquiry is that a man of science shrinks from placing 
 himself in the public position of seeming to indorse 
 a popular superstition. I had the further motive 
 that Baskerville Hall, as the paper says, would cer- 
 tainly remain untenanted if anything were done to 
 increase its already rather grim reputation. For 
 both these reasons I thought that I was justified in 
 
 22 
 
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 telling rather less than I knew, since no practical 
 good could result from it, but with you there is no 
 reason why I should not be perfectly frank. 
 
 " The moor is very sparsely inhabited, and those 
 who live near each other are thrown very much to- 
 gether. For this reason I saw a good deal of Sir 
 Charles Baskerville. With the exception of Mr. 
 Frankland, of Lafter Hall, and Mr. Stapleton, the 
 naturalist, there are no other men of education with- 
 in many miles. Sir Charles was a retiring man, but 
 the chance of his illness brought us together, and a 
 community of interests in science kept us so. He 
 had brought back much scientific information from 
 South Africa, and many a charming evening we 
 have spent together discussing the comparative 
 anatomy of the Bushman and the Hottentot. 
 
 " Within the last few months it became increas- 
 ingly plain to me that Sir Charles's nervous system 
 was strained to the breaking point. He had taken 
 this legend which I have read you exceedingly to 
 heart — so much so that, although he would walk in 
 his own grounds, nothing would induce him to go 
 out upon the moor at night. Incredible as it may 
 appear to you, Mr. Holmes, he was honestly con- 
 vinced that a dreadful fate overhung his family, and 
 certainly the records which he was able to give of 
 his ancestors were not encouraging. The idea of 
 some ghastly presence constantly haunted him, and 
 on more than one occasion he has asked me 
 whether I had on my medical journeys at night 
 
 23 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 ever seen any strange creature or heard the baying 
 of a hound. The latter question he put to me sev- 
 eral times, and always with a voice which vibrated 
 with excitement. 
 
 " I can well remember driving up to his house in 
 the evening, some three weeks before the fatal 
 event. He chanced to be at his hall door. I had 
 descended from my gig and was standing in front 
 of him, when I saw his eyes fix themselves over my 
 shoulder, and stare past me with an expression of 
 the most dreadful horror. I whisked round and 
 had just time to catch a glimpse of something which 
 I took to be a large black calf passing at the head 
 of the drive. So excited and alarmed was he that 
 I was compelled to go down to the spot where the 
 animal had been and look around for it. It was 
 gone, however, and the incident appeared to make 
 the worst impression upon his mind. I stayed with 
 him all the evening, and it was on that occasion, to 
 explain the emotion which he had shown, that he 
 confided to my keeping that narrative which I read 
 to you when first I came. I mention this small 
 episode because it assumes some importance in view 
 of the tragedy which followed, but I was convinced 
 at the time that the matter was entirely trivial and 
 that his excitement had no justification. 
 
 It was at my advice that Sir Charles was about 
 to go to London. His heart was, I knew, affected, 
 and the constant anxiety in which he lived, however 
 chimerical the cause of it might be, was evidently 
 
 24 
 
THE CURSE OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 having a serious effect upon his health. I thought 
 that a few months among the distractions of town 
 would send him back a new man. Mr. Stapleton, 
 a mutual friend who was much concerned at his 
 state of health, was of the same opinion. At the 
 last instant came this terrible catastrophe. 
 
 " On the night of Sir Charles's death Barrymore 
 the butler, who made the discovery, sent Perkins the 
 groom on horseback to me, and as I was sitting up 
 late I was able to reach Baskerville Hall within an 
 hour of the event. I checked and corroborated all 
 the facts which were mentioned at the inquest. I 
 followed the footsteps down the Yew Alley, I saw 
 the spot at the moor-gate where he seemed to have 
 waited, I remarked the change in the shape of the 
 prints after that point, I noted that there were no 
 other footsteps save those of Barrymore on the soft 
 gravel, and finally I carefully examined the body, 
 which had not been touched until my arrival. Sir 
 Charles lay on his face, his arms out, his fingers dug 
 into the ground, and his features convulsed with 
 some strong emotion to such an extent that I could 
 hardly have sworn to his identity. There was cer- 
 tainly no physical injury of any kind. But one false 
 statement was made by Barrymore at the inquest. 
 He said that there were no traces upon the ground 
 round the body. He did not observe any. But I 
 did — some little distance ofif, but fresh and clear.'^ 
 
 Footprints? " 
 
 Footprints." 
 
 25 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " A man's or a woman's? 
 
 Dr. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an in- 
 stant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he 
 answered: — 
 
 Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a 
 gigantic hound! 
 
 26 
 
Ill 
 
 The Problem 
 
 I CONFESS that at these words a shudder 
 passed through me. There was a thrill in the 
 doctor's voice which showed that he was him- 
 self deeply moved by that which he told us. Holmes 
 leaned forward in his excitement and his eyes had 
 the hard, dry glitter which shot from them when 
 he was keenly interested. 
 " You saw this? 
 " As clearly as I see you." 
 " And you said nothing? " 
 "What was the use?" 
 " How was it that no one else saw it? " 
 "The marks were some twenty yards from the 
 body and no one gave them a thought. I don't 
 suppose I should have done so had I not known 
 this legend." 
 
 " There are many sheep-dogs on the moor? " 
 " No doubt, but this was no sheep-dog." 
 " You say it was large? " 
 " Enormous." 
 
 " But it had not approached the body? " 
 "No." 
 
 " What sort of night was it? " 
 
 27 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Damp and raw/' 
 But not actually raining? 
 " No/' 
 What is the alley like? " 
 
 There are two lines of old yew hedge, twelve 
 feet high and impenetrable. The walk in the cen- 
 tre is about eight feet across." 
 
 Is there anything between the hedges and the 
 walk? '' 
 
 Yes, there is a strip of grass about six feet 
 broad on either side." 
 
 I understand that the yew hedge is penetrated 
 at one point by a gate? " 
 
 Yes, the wicket-gate which leads on to the 
 moor." 
 
 Is there any other opening? " 
 None." 
 
 So that to reach the Yew Alley one either has 
 to come down it from the house or else to enter it 
 by the moor-gate? " 
 
 " There is an exit through a summer-house at the 
 far end." 
 
 Had Sir Charles reached this? " 
 " No; he lay about fifty yards from it." 
 Now, tell me, Dr. Mortimer — and this is im- 
 portant — the marks which you saw were on the 
 path and not on the grass? " 
 
 No marks could show on the grass." 
 " Were they on the same side of the path as the 
 moor-gate? " 
 
 28 
 
THE PROBLEM 
 
 " Yes; they were on the edge of the path on the 
 same side as the moor-gate." 
 
 " You interest me exceedingly. Another point. 
 Was the wicket-gate closed? " 
 
 " Closed and padlocked." 
 
 " How high was it? " 
 
 " About four feet high." 
 
 " Then anyone could have got over it? " 
 Yes." 
 
 " And what marks did you see by the wicket- 
 gate? " 
 
 " None in particular." 
 
 Good Heaven! Did no one examine? " 
 *^ Yes, I examined myself." 
 
 And found nothing? " 
 " It was all very confused. Sir Charles had evi- 
 dently stood there for five or ten minutes." 
 How do you know that? " 
 Because the ash had twice dropped from his 
 cigar." 
 
 "Excellent! This is a colleague, Watson, after 
 our own heart. But the marks? " 
 
 " He had left his own marks all over that small 
 patch of gravel. I could discern no others." 
 
 Sherlock Holmes struck his hand against his knee 
 with an impatient gesture. 
 
 If I had only been there! " he cried. " It is evi- 
 dently a case of extraordinary interest, and one 
 which presented immense opportunities to the sci- 
 entific expert. That gravel page upon which I 
 
 29 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 might have read so much has been long ere this 
 smudged by the rain and defaced by the clogs of 
 curious peasants. Oh, Dr. Mortimer, Dr. Morti- 
 mer, to think that you should not have called me 
 in! You have indeed much to answer for.'' 
 
 I could not call you in, Mr. Holmes, without 
 disclosing these facts to the world, and I have al- 
 ready given my reasons for not wishing to do so. 
 
 Besides, besides " 
 
 "Why do you hesitate?" 
 
 There is a realm in which the most acute and 
 most experienced of detectives is helpless." 
 
 You mean that the thing is supernatural? " 
 
 I did not positively say so." 
 
 No, but you evidently think it." 
 
 Since the tragedy, Mr. Holmes, there have 
 come to my ears several incidents which are hard 
 to reconcile with the settled order of Nature." 
 
 For example? " 
 
 I find that before the terrible event occurred 
 several people had seen a creature upon the moor 
 which corresponds with this Baskerville demon, and 
 which could not possibly be any animal known to 
 science. They all agreed that it was a huge creat- 
 ure, luminous, ghastly, and spectral. I have cross- 
 examined these men, one of them a hard-headed 
 countryman, one a farrier, and one a moorland 
 farmer, who all tell the same story of this dreadful 
 apparition, exactly corresponding to the hell-hound 
 of the legend. I assure you that there is a reign 
 
 30 
 
THE PROBLEM 
 
 of terror in the district and that it is a hardy man 
 who will cross the moor at night." 
 
 " And you, a trained man of science, beUeve it to 
 be supernatural? 
 
 " I do not know what to believe." 
 
 Holmes shrugged his shoulders. 
 I have hitherto confined my investigations to 
 this world," said he. In a modest way I have 
 combated evil, but to take on the Father of Evil 
 himself would, perhaps, be too ambitious a task. 
 Yet you must admit that the footmark is material." 
 
 The original hound was material enough to tug 
 a man's throat out, and yet he was diabolical as 
 well." 
 
 I see that you have quite gone over to the su- 
 pernaturalists. But now. Dr. Mortimer, tell me 
 this. If you hold these views, why have you come 
 to consult me at all? You tell me in the same 
 breath that it is useless to investigate Sir Charles's 
 death, and that you desire me to do it." 
 
 I did not say that I desired you to do it." 
 
 " Then, how can I assist you? " , 
 
 " By advising me as to what I should do with Sir 
 Henry Baskerville, who arrives at Waterloo Sta- 
 tion " — Dr. Mortimer looked at his watch — " in ex- 
 actly one hour and a quarter." 
 
 " He being the heir? " 
 Yes. On the death of Sir Charles we inquired 
 for this young gentleman, and found that he had 
 been farming in Canada. From the accounts which 
 
 31 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 have reached us he is an excellent fellow in every 
 way. I speak now not as a medical man but as a 
 trustee and executor of Sir Charles's will." 
 There is no other claimant, I presume? " 
 " None. The only other kinsman whom we have 
 been able to trace was Rodger Baskerville, the 
 youngest of three brothers of whom poor Sir 
 Charles was the elder. The second brother, who 
 died young, is the father of this lad Henry. The 
 third, Rodger, was the black sheep of the family. 
 He came of the old masterful Baskerville strain, and 
 was the very image, they tell me, of the family pict- 
 ure of old Hugo. He made England too hot to 
 hold him, fled to Central America, and died there 
 in 1876 of yellow fever. Henry is the last of the 
 Baskervilles. In one hour and five minutes I meet 
 him at Waterloo Station. I have had a wire that 
 he arrived at Southampton this morning. Now, 
 Mr. Holmes, what would you advise me to do with 
 him? " 
 
 " Why should he not go to the home of his 
 fathers?" 
 
 It seems natural, does it not? And yet, con- 
 sider that every Baskerville who goes there meets 
 with an evil fate. I feel sure that if Sir Charles 
 could have spoken with me before his death he 
 would have warned me against bringing this the 
 last of the old race, and the heir to great wealth, to 
 that deadly place. And yet it cannot be denied that 
 tile prosperity of the whole poor, bleak country-side 
 
 32 
 
THE PROBLEM 
 
 depends upon his presence. All the good work 
 which has been done by Sir Charles will crash to 
 the ground if there is no tenant of the Hall. I fear 
 lest I should be swayed too much by my own ob- 
 vious interest in the matter, and that is why I bring 
 the case before you and ask for your advice." 
 
 Holmes considered for a little time. 
 
 " Put into plain words, the matter is this," said 
 he. " In your opinion there is a diabolical agency 
 which makes Dartmoor an unsafe abode for a Bas- 
 kerville — that is your opinion? " 
 
 At least I might go the length of saying that 
 there is some evidence that this may be so." 
 
 Exactly. But surely, if your supernatural the- 
 ory be correct, it could work the young man evil in 
 London as easily as in Devonshire. A devil with 
 merely local powers like a parish vestry would be 
 too inconceivable a thing." 
 
 " You put the matter more flippantly, Mr. 
 Holmes, than you would probably do if you were 
 brought into personal contact with these things. 
 Your advice, then, as I understand it, is that the 
 young man will be as safe in Devonshire as in Lon- 
 don. He comes in fifty minutes. What would you 
 recommend? " 
 
 I recommend, sir, that you take a cab, call off 
 your spaniel who is scratching at my front door, 
 and proceed to Waterloo to meet Sir Henry Bas- 
 kerville." 
 
 ''And then?" 
 
 33 
 
1 
 
 THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 And then you will say nothing to him at all 
 until I have made up my mind about the matter." 
 
 " How long will it take you to make up your 
 mind? " 
 
 " Twenty-four hours. At ten o'clock to-mor- 
 row, Dr. Mortimer, I will be much obliged to you 
 if you will call upon me here, and it will be of help 
 to me in my plans for the future if you will bring 
 Sir Henry Baskerville with you." 
 
 " I will do so^ Mr. Holmes." He scribbled the 
 appointment on his shirt cuff and hurried oflf in his 
 strange, peering, absent-minded fashion. Holmes 
 stopped him at the head of the stair. 
 
 " Only one more question. Dr. Mortimer. You 
 say that before Sir Charles Baskerville's death sev- 
 eral people saw this apparition upon the moor? " 
 
 " Three people did." 
 
 " Did any see it after? " 
 I have not heard of any.'* 
 Thank you. Good morning." 
 
 Holmes returned to his seat with that quiet look 
 of inward satisfaction which meant that he had a 
 congenial task before him. 
 Going out, Watson? " 
 
 " Unless I can help you." 
 
 " No, my dear fellow, it is at the hour of action 
 that I turn to you for aid. But this is splendid, 
 really unique from some points of view. When you 
 pass Bradley's would you ask him to send up a 
 pound of the strongest shag tobacco? Thank you. 
 
 34 
 
THE PROBLEM 
 
 It would be as well if you could make it convenient 
 not to return before evening. Then I should be 
 very glad to compare impressions as to this most 
 interesting problem which has been submitted to us 
 this morning." 
 
 I knew that seclusion and solitude were very 
 necessary for my friend in those hours of intense 
 mental concentration during which he weighed 
 every particle of evidence, constructed alternative 
 theories, balanced one against the other, and made 
 up his mind as to which points were essential and 
 which immaterial. I therefore spent the day at my 
 club and did not return to Baker Street until even- 
 ing. It was nearly nine o'clock when I found my- 
 self in the sitting-room once more. 
 
 My first impression as I opened the door was that 
 a fire had broken out, for the room was so filled 
 with smoke that the light of the lamp upon the 
 table was blurred by it. As I entered, however, my 
 fears were set at rest, for it was the acrid fumes of 
 strong coarse tobacco which took me by the throat 
 and set me coughing. Through the haze I had a 
 vague vision of Holmes in his dressing-gown coiled 
 up in an arm-chair with his black clay pipe between 
 his lips. Several rolls of paper lay around him. 
 Caught cold, Watson? " said he. 
 No, it's this poisonous atmosphere." 
 
 " I suppose it is pretty thick, now that you men- 
 tion it." 
 
 "Thick! It is intolerable." 
 
 35 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Open the window, then! You have been at 
 your club all day, I perceive.'* 
 
 "My dear Holmes!" 
 
 "Am I right?'' 
 
 " Certainly, but how- ? " 
 
 He laughed at my bewildered expression. 
 
 " There is a delightful freshness about you, Wat- 
 son, which makes it a pleasure to exercise any small 
 powers which I possess at your expense. A gentle- 
 man goes forth on a showery and miry day. He 
 returns immaculate in the evening with the gloss 
 still on his hat and his boots. He has been a fixture 
 therefore all day. He is not a man with intimate 
 friends. Where, then, could he have been? Is it 
 'not obvious? " 
 
 " Well, it is rather obvious." 
 
 " The world is full of obvious things which no- 
 body by any chance ever observes. Where do you 
 think that I have been? " 
 
 " A fixture also." 
 
 " On the contrary, I have been to Devonshire." 
 "Inspirit?" 
 
 " Exactly. My body has remained in this arm- 
 chair, and has, I regret to observe, consumed in my 
 absence two large pots of cof¥ee and an incredible 
 amount of tobacco. After you left I sent down to 
 Stamford's for the Ordnance map of this portion of 
 the moor, and my spirit has hovered over it all day. 
 I flatter myself that I could find my way about." 
 
 " A large scale map, I presume? " 
 
 36 
 
THE PROBLEM 
 
 Very large/' He unrolled one section and held 
 it over his knee. Here you have the particular 
 district which concerns us. That is Baskerville 
 Hall in the middle." 
 
 With a wood round it? 
 
 " Exactly. I fancy the Yew Alley, though not 
 marked under that name, must stretch along this 
 line, with the moor, as you perceive, upon the right 
 of it. This small clump of buildings here is the 
 hamlet of Grimpen, where our friend Dr. Mortimer 
 has his head-quarters. Within a radius of five miles 
 there are, as you see, only a very few scattered dwell- 
 ings. Here is Lafter Hall, which was mentioned in 
 the narrative. There is a house indicated here 
 which may be the residence of the naturalist — Sta- 
 pleton, if I remember right, was his name. Here 
 are two moorland farm-houses. High Tor and Foul- 
 mire. Then fourteen miles away the great convict 
 prison of Princetown. Between and around these 
 scattered points extends the desolate, lifeless moor. 
 This, then, is the stage upon which tragedy has been 
 played, and upon which we may help to play it 
 again." 
 
 " It must be a wild place." 
 
 " Yes, the setting is a worthy one. If the devil 
 
 did desire to have a hand in the affairs of men " 
 
 Then you are yourself inclining to the super- 
 natural explanation." 
 
 " The devil's agents may be of flesh and blood, 
 may they not? There are two questions waiting for 
 
 37 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 US at the outset. The one is whether any crime has 
 been committed at all; the second is, what is the 
 crime and how was it committed? Of course, if 
 Dr. Mortimer's surmise should be correct, and we 
 are dealing with forces outside the ordinary laws of 
 Nature, there is an end of our investigation. But 
 we are bound to exhaust all other hypotheses before 
 falling back upon this one. I think we'll shut that 
 window again, if you don't mind. It is a singular 
 thing, but I find that a concentrated atmosphere 
 helps a concentration of thought. I have not 
 pushed it to the length of getting into a box to 
 think, but that is the logical outcome of my con- 
 victions. Have you turned the case over in your 
 mind? " 
 
 " Yes, I have thought a good deal of it in the 
 course of the day." 
 
 What do you make of it? " 
 " It is very bewildering." 
 
 " It has certainly a character of its own. There 
 are points of distinction about it. That change in 
 the footprints, for example. What do you make of 
 that?" 
 
 " Mortimer said that the man had walked on tip- 
 toe down that portion of the alley." 
 
 He only repeated what some fool had said at 
 the inquest. Why should a man walk on tiptoe 
 down the alley? " 
 " What then?" 
 He was running, Watson — ^running desperate- 
 
 38 
 
THE PROBLEM 
 
 ly, running for his life, running until he burst his 
 heart and fell dead upon his face." 
 Running from what? " 
 
 There lies our problem. There are indications 
 that the man was crazed with fear before ever he 
 began to run." 
 
 " How can you say that? " 
 
 " I am presuming that the cause of his fears came 
 to him across the moor. If that were so, and it 
 seems most probable, only a man who had lost his 
 wits would have run from the house instead of tow- 
 ards it. If the gipsy's evidence may be taken as 
 true, he ran with cries for help in the direction where 
 help was least likely to be. Then, again, whom was 
 he waiting for that night, and why was he waiting 
 for him in the Yew Alley rather than in his own 
 house? " 
 
 " You think that he was waiting for someone? " 
 
 " The man was elderly and infirm. We can un- 
 derstand his taking an evening stroll, but the ground 
 was damp and the night inclement. Is it natural 
 that he should stand for five or ten minutes, as Dr. 
 Mortimer, with more practical sense than I should 
 have given him credit for, deduced from the cigar 
 ash? " 
 
 " But he went out every evening." 
 
 " I think it unlikely that he waited at the moor- 
 gate every evening. On the contrary, the evidence 
 is that he avoided the moor. That night he waited 
 there. It was the night before he made his depart- 
 
 39 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 ure for London. The thing takes shape, Watson. 
 It becomes coherent. Might I ask you to hand me 
 my violin, and we will postpone all further thought 
 upon this business until we have had the advantage 
 of meeting Dr. Mortimer and Sir Henry Baskerville 
 in the morning.'' 
 
 40 
 
IV 
 
 Sir Henry Baskerville 
 
 OUR breakfast-table was cleared early, and 
 Holmes waited in his dressing-gown for 
 the promised interview. Our clients were 
 punctual to their appointment, for the clock had just 
 struck ten when Dr. Mortimer was shown up, fol- 
 lowed by the young ^baronet. The latter was a 
 small, alert, dark-eyed man about thirty years of 
 age, very sturdily built, with thick black eyebrows 
 and a strong, pugnacious face. He wore a ruddy- 
 tinted tweed suit, and had the weather-beaten ap- 
 pearance of one who has spent most of his time in 
 the open air, and yet there was something in his 
 steady eye and the quiet assurance of his bearing 
 which indicated the gentleman. 
 
 " This is Sir Henry Baskerville," said Dr. Mor- 
 timer. 
 
 " Why, yes,'' said he, " and the strange thing is, 
 Mr. Sherlock Holmes, that if my friend here had 
 not proposed coming round to you this morning I 
 should have come on my own account. I under- 
 stand that you think out little puzzles, and I've had 
 one this morning which wants more thinking out 
 than I am able to give to it." 
 
 " Pray take a seat. Sir Henry. Do I understand 
 
 41 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 you to say that you have yourself had some re- 
 markable experience since you arrived in Lon- 
 don?" 
 
 " Nothing of much importance, Mr. Holmes. 
 Only a joke, as like as not. It was this letter, if 
 you can call it a letter, which reached me this morn- 
 mg. 
 
 He laid an envelope upon the table, and we all 
 bent over it. It was of common quality, greyish in 
 colour. The address, Sir Henry Baskerville, 
 Northumberland Hotel," was printed in rough char- 
 acters; the post-mark Charing Cross," and the 
 date of posting the preceding evening. 
 
 " Who knew that you were going to the Nor- 
 thumberland Hotel? " asked Holmes, glancing 
 keenly across at our visitor. 
 
 No one could have known. We only decided 
 after I met Dr. Mortimer." 
 
 But Dr. Mortimer was no doubt already stop- 
 ping there? " 
 
 " No, I had been staying with a friend," said the 
 doctor. There was no possible indication that we 
 intended to go to this hotel." 
 
 Hum! Someone seems to be very deeply in- 
 terested in your movements." Out of the envelope 
 he took a half-sheet of foolscap paper folded into 
 four. This he opened and spread flat upon the 
 table. Across the middle of it a single sentence had 
 been formed by the expedient of pasting printed 
 words upon it. It ran: **As you value your life 
 
 42 
 
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE 
 
 or your reason keep away from the moor." The 
 word moor " only was printed in ink. 
 
 " Now," said Sir Henry Baskerville, " perhaps 
 you will tell me, Mr. Holmes, what in thunder is 
 the meaning of that, and who it is that takes so 
 much interest in my affairs? " 
 
 " What do you make of it. Dr. Mortimer? You 
 must allow that there is nothing supernatural about 
 this, at any rate? " 
 
 No, sir, but it might very well come from some- 
 one who was convinced that the business is super- 
 natural." 
 
 " What business? " asked Sir Henry, sharply. 
 " It seems to me that all you gentlemen know 
 a great deal more than I do about my own af- 
 fairs." 
 
 You shall share our knowledge before you leave 
 this room, Sir Henry. I promise you that," said 
 Sherlock Holmes. " We will confine ourselves for 
 the present with your permission to this very inter- 
 esting document, which must have been put to- 
 gether and posted yesterday evening. Have you 
 yesterday's Times, Watson? " 
 " It is here in the corner." 
 
 " Might I trouble you for it — the inside page, 
 please, with the leading articles? " He glanced 
 swiftly over it, running his eyes up and down the 
 columns. Capital article this on Free Trade. 
 Permit me to give you an extract from it. ' You 
 may be cajoled into imagining that your own 
 
 43 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 special trade or your own industry will be encour- 
 aged by a protective tariff, but it stands to rea- 
 son that such legislation must in the long run keep 
 away wealth from the country, diminish the value 
 of our imports, and lower the general conditions of 
 life in this island/ What do you think of that, 
 Watson? cried Holmes, in high glee, rubbing his 
 hands together with satisfaction. " Don't you 
 think that is an admirable sentiment? 
 
 Dr. Mortimer looked at Holmes with an air of 
 professional interest, and Sir Henry Baskerville 
 turned a pair of puzzled dark eyes upon me. 
 
 I don't know much about the tariff and things 
 of that kind,'' said he; "but it seems to me we've 
 got a bit off the trail so far as that note is con- 
 cerned." 
 
 " On the contrary, I think we are particularly hot 
 upon the trail, Sir Henry. Watson here knows 
 more about my methods than you do, but I fear that 
 even he has not quite grasped the significance of 
 this sentence." 
 
 " No, I confess that I see no connection." 
 
 " And yet, my dear Watson, there is so very close 
 a connection that the one is extracted out of the 
 other. ' You,' ' your,' ' your,' ' life,' ' reason,' 
 * value,' ^ keep away,' ^ from the.' Don't you see 
 now whence these words have been taken? " 
 
 By thunder, you're right! Well, if that isn't 
 smart! " cried Sir Henry. 
 
 " If any possible doubt remained it is settled by 
 
 44 
 
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE 
 
 the fact that ' keep away ' and ' from the ' are cut 
 out in one piece." 
 
 "Well, now— so it is!'' 
 Really, Mr. Holmes, this exceeds anything 
 which I could have imagined," said Dr. Mortimer, 
 gazing at my friend in amazement. I could un- 
 derstand anyone saying that the words were from 
 a newspaper; but that you should name which, and 
 add that it came from the leading article, is really 
 one of the most remarkable things which I have 
 ever known. How did you do it? " 
 
 " I presume, doctor, that you could tell the skull 
 of a negro from that of an Esquimaux? " 
 Most certainly." 
 
 "But how?" 
 
 " Because that is my special hobby. The differ- 
 ences are obvious. The supra-orbital crest, the 
 facial angle, the maxillary curve, the " 
 
 " But this is my special hobby, and the differences 
 are equally obvious. There is as much difference 
 to my eyes between the leaded bourgeois type of a 
 Times article and the slovenly print of an evening 
 halfpenny paper as there could be between your 
 negro and your Esquimaux. The detection of 
 types is one of the most elementary branches of 
 knowledge to the special expert in crime, though I 
 confess that once when I was very young I confused 
 the Leeds Mercury with the Western Morning News. 
 But a Times leader is entirely distinctive, and these 
 words could have been taken from nothing else. 
 
 45 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 As it was done yesterday the strong probability was 
 that we should find the words in yesterday's issue." 
 
 So far as I can follow you, then, Mr. Holmes,'* 
 said Sir Henry Baskerville, someone cut out this 
 message with a scissors " 
 
 Nail-scissors," said Holmes. You can see 
 that it was a very short-bladed scissors, since the 
 cutter had to take two snips over ' keep away.' " 
 
 That is so. Someone, then, cut out the mes- 
 sage with a pair of short-bladed scissors, pasted it 
 with paste " 
 
 Gum," said Holmes. 
 
 With gum on to the paper. But I want to 
 know why the word ' moor ' should have been writ- 
 ten? " 
 
 Because he could not find it in print. The 
 other words were all simple and might be found in 
 any issue, but * moor ' would be less common." 
 
 Why, of course, that would explain it. Have 
 you read anything else in this message, Mr. 
 Holmes?" 
 
 There are one or two indications, and yet the 
 utmost pains have been taken to remove all clues. 
 The address, you observe, is printed in rough char- 
 acters. But the Times is a paper which is seldom 
 found in any hands but those of the highly educated. 
 We may take it, therefore, that the letter was com- 
 posed by an educated man who wished to pose as 
 an uneducated one, and his effort to, conceal his own 
 writing suggests that that writing might be known, 
 
 46 
 
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE 
 
 or come to be known, by you. Again, you will ob- 
 serve that the words are not gummed on in an ac- 
 curate line, but that some are much higher than 
 others. * Life,' for example, is quite out of its 
 proper place. That may point to carelessness or 
 it may point to agitation and hurry upon the part 
 of the cutter. On the whole I incline to the latter 
 view, since the matter was evidently important, and 
 it is unlikely that the composer of such a letter 
 would be careless. If he were in a hurry it opens 
 up the interesting question why he should be in a 
 hurry, since any letter posted up to early morning 
 would reach Sir Henry before he would leave his 
 hotel. Did the composer fear an interruption — 
 and from whom? " 
 
 " We are coming now rather into the region of 
 guess work,'' said Dr. Mortimer. 
 
 " Say, rather, into the region where we balance 
 probabilities and choose the most likely. It is the 
 scientific use of the imagination, but we have always 
 some material basis on which to start our specula- 
 tions. Now, you would call it a guess, no doubt, 
 but I am almost certain that this address has been 
 written in an hotel." 
 
 " How in the world can you say that? 
 
 " If you examine it carefully you will see that 
 both the pen and the ink have given the writer 
 trouble. The pen has spluttered twice in a single 
 word, and has run dry three times in a short ad- 
 dress, showing that there was very little ink in the 
 
 47 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 bottle. Now, a private pen or ink-bottle is seldom 
 allowed to be in such a state, and the combination 
 of the two must be quite rare. But you know the 
 hotel ink and the hotel pen, where it is rare to get 
 anything else. Yes, I have very little hesitation in 
 saying that could we examine the waste-paper bas- 
 kets of the hotels round Charing Cross until we 
 found the remains of the mutilated Times leader 
 we could lay our hands straight upon the person 
 who sent this singular message. Halloa ! Halloa ! 
 What's this? " 
 
 He was carefully examining the foolscap, upon 
 which the words were pasted, holding it only an 
 inch or two from his eyes. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 Nothing," said he, throwing it down. " It is a 
 blank half-sheet of paper, without even a watermark 
 upon it. I think we have drawn as much as we 
 can from this curious letter; and now, Sir Henry, 
 has anything else of interest happened to you since 
 you have been in London? " 
 
 Why, no, Mr. Holmes. I think not." 
 
 You have not observed anyone follow or watch 
 you? " 
 
 " I seem to have walked right into the thick of a 
 dime novel," said our visitor. Why in thunder 
 should anyone follow or watch me? " 
 
 " We are coming to that. You have nothing 
 'else to report to us before we go into this mat- 
 ter? " 
 
 48 
 
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE 
 
 "Well, it depends upon what you think worth 
 reporting." 
 
 I think anything out of the ordinary routine of 
 life well worth reporting." 
 Sir Henry smiled. 
 
 " I don't know much of British life yet, for I have 
 spent nearly all my time in the States and in Canada. 
 But I hope that to lose one of your boots is not 
 part of the ordinary routine of life over here." 
 
 " You have lost one of your boots? " 
 My dear sir," cried Dr. Mortimer, " it is only 
 mislaid. You will find it when you return to the 
 hotel. What is the use of troubling Mr. Holmes 
 with trifles of this kind? " 
 
 Well, he asked me for anything outside the or- 
 dinary routine." 
 
 Exactly," said Holmes, " however foolish the 
 incident may seem. You have lost one of your 
 boots, you say? " 
 
 Well, mislaid it, anyhow. I put them both out- 
 side my door lastt^night, and there was only one in 
 the morning. I could get no sense out of the chap 
 who cleans them. The worst of it is that I only 
 bought the pair last night in the Strand, and I have 
 never had them on." 
 
 " If you have never worn them, why did you put 
 them out to be cleaned? " 
 
 " They were tan boots, and had never been var- 
 nished. That was why I put them out." 
 
 " Then I understand that on your arrival in Lon- 
 
 49 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 don yesterday you went out at once and bought a 
 pair of boots? 
 
 I did a good deal of shopping. Dr. Mortimer 
 here went round with me. You see, if I am to be 
 squire down there I must dress the part, and it may 
 be that I have got a little careless in my ways out 
 West. Among other things I bought these brown 
 boots — gave six dollars for them — and had one 
 stolen before ever I had them on my feet." 
 
 " It seems a singularly useless thing to steal,'' said 
 Sherlock Holmes. " I confess that I share Dr. 
 Mortimer's belief that it will not be long before the 
 missing boot is found." 
 
 "And, now, gentlemen," said the baronet, with 
 decision, " it seems to me that I have spoken quite 
 enough about the little that I know. It is time that 
 you kept your promise and gave me a full account 
 of what we are all driving at." 
 
 " Your request is a very reasonable one," Holmes 
 answered. Dr. Mortimer, I think you could not 
 do better than to tell your story as you told it to 
 us.'^ 
 
 Thus encouraged, our scientific friend drew his 
 papers from his pocket, and presented the whole case 
 as he had done upon the morning before. Sir 
 Henry Baskerville listened with the deepest at- 
 tention, and with an occasional exclamation of sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Well, I seem to have come into an inheritance 
 with a vengeance," said he, when the long narrative 
 
 50 
 
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE 
 
 was finished. " Of course, I've heard of the hound 
 ever since I was in the nursery. It's the pet story 
 of the family, though I never thought of taking it 
 seriously before. But as to my uncle's death — 
 well, it all seems boiling up in my head, and I can't 
 get it clear yet. You don't seem quite to have 
 made up your mind whether it's a case for a police- 
 man or a clergyman." 
 "Precisely." 
 
 " And now there's this af¥air of the letter to me 
 at the hotel. I suppose that fits into its place." 
 
 " It seems to show that someone knows more 
 than we do about what goes on upon the moor," 
 said Dr. Mortimer. 
 
 And also," said Holmes, " that someone is not 
 ill-disposed towards you, since they warn you of 
 danger." 
 
 Or it may be that they wish, for their own pur- 
 poses, to scare me away." 
 
 " Well, of course, that is possible also. I am 
 very much indebted to you. Dr. Mortimer, for in- 
 troducing me to a problem which presents several 
 interesting alternatives. But the practical point 
 which we now have to decide. Sir Henry, is whether 
 it is or is not advisable for you to go to Baskerville 
 Hall." 
 
 " Why should I not go?" 
 " There seems to be danger." 
 " Do you mean danger from this family fiend or 
 do you mean danger from human beings? " 
 
 51 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Well, that is what we have to find out." 
 
 " Whichever it is, my answer is fixed. There is 
 no devil in hell, Mr. Holmes, and there is no man 
 upon earth who can prevent me from going to the 
 home of my own people, and you may take that to 
 be my final answer." His dark brows knitted and 
 his face flushed to a dusky red as he spoke. It was 
 evident that .the fiery temper of the Baskervilles was 
 not extinct in this their last representative. Mean- 
 while," said he, I have hardly had time to think 
 over all that you have told me. It's a big thing for 
 a man to have to understand and to decide at one 
 sitting. I should like to have a quiet hour by my- 
 self to make up my mind. Now, look here, Mr. 
 Holmes, it's half-past eleven now and I am going 
 back right away to my hotel. Suppose you and 
 your friend. Dr. Watson, come round and lunch 
 with us at two? Til be able to tell you more clearly 
 then how this thing strikes me." 
 
 Is that convenient to you, Watson? " 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " Then you may expect us. Shall I have a cab 
 called? " 
 
 Fd prefer to walk, for this afifair has flurried me 
 rather." 
 
 " ril join you in a walk, with pleasure," said his 
 companion. 
 
 " Then we meet again at two o'clock. Au revoir, 
 and good morning! " 
 
 We heard the steps of our visitors descend the 
 
 52 
 
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE 
 
 stair and the bang of the front door. In an instant 
 Holmes had changed from the languid dreamer to 
 the man of action. 
 
 "Your hat and boots, Watson, quick! Not a 
 moment to lose! " He rushed into his room in his 
 dressing-gown and was back again in a few seconds 
 in a frock-coat. We hurried together down the 
 stairs and into the street. Dr. Mortimer and Bas- 
 kerville were still visible about two hundred yards 
 ahead of us in the direction of Oxford Street. 
 
 " Shall I run on and stop them? " 
 
 " Not for the world, my dear Watson. I am per- 
 fectly satisfied with your company if you will tol- 
 erate mine. Our friends are wise, for it is certainly 
 a very fine morning for a walk.'* 
 
 He quickened his pace until we had decreased 
 the distance which divided us by about half. Then, 
 still keeping a hundred yards behind, we followed 
 into Oxford Street and so down Regent Street. 
 Once our friends stopped and stared into a shop 
 window, upon which Holmes did the same. An in- 
 stant afterwards he gave a little cry of satisfaction, 
 and, following the direction of his eager eyes, I saw 
 that a hansom cab with a man inside which had 
 halted on the other side of the street was now walk- 
 ing slowly onwards again. 
 
 "There's our man, Watson! Come along! 
 We'll have a good look at him, if we can do no 
 more." 
 
 At that instant I was aware of a bushy black 
 
 53 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 beard and a pair of piercing eyes turned upon us 
 through the side window of the cab. Instantly the 
 trap-door at the top flew up, something was 
 screamed to the driver, and the cab flew madly off 
 down Regent Street. Holmes looked eagerly 
 round for another, but no empty one was in sight. 
 Then he dashed in wild pursuit amid the stream of 
 the traffic, but the start was too great, and already 
 the cab was out of sight. 
 
 "There now!'' said Holmes, bitterly, as he 
 emerged panting and white with vexation from the 
 tide of vehicles. " Was ever such bad luck and 
 such bad management, too? Watson, Watson, if 
 you are an honest man you will record this also and 
 set it against my successes! 
 
 " Who was the man? " 
 
 " I have not an idea." 
 
 " A spy? '' 
 
 " Well, it was evident from what we have heard 
 that Baskerville has been very closely shadowed by 
 someone since he has been in town. How else 
 could it be known so quickly that it was the Nor- 
 thumberland Hotel which he had chosen? If they 
 had followed him the first day I argued that they 
 would follow him also the second. You may have 
 observed that I twice strolled over to the window 
 while Dr. Mortimer was reading his legend.'' 
 
 " Yes, I remember." 
 
 " I was looking out for loiterers in the street, but 
 I saw none. We are dealing with a clever man, 
 
 54 
 
I was aware of a bushv black beard and a pair of 
 piercing eyes turned upon us. 
 
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE 
 
 Watson. This matter cuts very deep, and though 
 I have not finally made up my mind whether it is 
 a benevolent or a malevolent agency which is in 
 touch with us, I am conscious always of power and 
 design. When our friends left I at once followed 
 them in the hopes of marking down their invisible 
 attendant. So wily was he that he had not trusted 
 himself upon foot, but he had availed himself of a 
 cab, so that he could loiter behind or dash past them 
 and so escape their notice. His method had the 
 additional advantage that if they were to take a cab 
 he was all ready to follow them. It has, however, 
 one obvious disadvantage." 
 
 It puts him in the power of the cabman.'' 
 
 " Exactly." 
 What a pity we did not get the number! " 
 
 " My dear Watson, clumsy as I have been, you 
 surely do not seriously imagine that I neglected to 
 get the number? 2704 is our man. But that is no 
 use to us for the moment." 
 
 " I fail to see how you could have done more." 
 
 " On observing the cab I should have instantly 
 turned and walked in the other direction. I should 
 then at my leisure have hired a second cab and fol- 
 lowed the first at a respectful distance, or, better 
 still, have driven to the Northumberland Hotel and 
 waited there. When our unknown had followed 
 Baskerville home we should have had the oppor- 
 tunity of playing his own game upon himself, and 
 seeing where he made for. As it is, by an indiscreet 
 
 55 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 eagerness, which was taken advantage of with ex- 
 traordinary quickness and energy by our opponent, 
 we have betrayed ourselves and lost our man." 
 
 We had been sauntering slowly down Regent 
 Street during this conversation, and Dr. Mortimer, 
 with his companion, had long vanished in front of 
 us. 
 
 There is no object in our following them," said 
 Holmes. " The shadow has departed and will not 
 return. We must see what further cards we have 
 in our hands, and play them with decision. Could 
 you swear to that man's face within the cab? " 
 
 " I could swear only to the beard." 
 And so could I — from which I gather that in all 
 probability it was a false one. A clever man upon 
 so delicate an errand has no use for a beard save to 
 conceal his features. Come in here, Watson! " 
 
 He turned into one of the district messenger of- 
 fices, where he was warmly greeted by the manager. 
 
 " Ah, Wilson, I see you have not forgotten the 
 little case in which I had the good fortune to help 
 you?" 
 
 " No, sir, indeed I have not. You saved my 
 good name, and perhaps my life." 
 
 My dear fellow, you exaggerate. I have some 
 recollection, Wilson, that you had among your boys 
 a lad named Cartwright, who showed some ability 
 during the investigation." 
 
 " Yes, sir, he is still with us.*' 
 
 " Could you ring him up? — thank you! And I 
 
 56 
 
SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE 
 
 should be glad to have change of this five-pound 
 note." 
 
 A lad of fourteen, with a bright, keen face, had 
 obeyed the summons of the manager. He stood 
 now gazing with great reverence at the famous de- 
 tective. 
 
 " Let me have the Hotel Directory," said 
 Holmes. " Thank you ! Now, Cartwright, there 
 are the names of twenty-three hotels here, all in the 
 immediate neighbourhood of Charing Cross. Do 
 you see? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " You will visit each of these in turn." 
 ''Yes, sir." 
 
 " You will begin in each case by giving the out- 
 side porter one shilling. Here are twenty-three 
 shillings." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " You will tell him that you want to see the waste 
 paper of yesterday. You will say that an important 
 telegram has miscarried and that you are looking 
 for it. You understand? " 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 " But what you are really looking for is the cen- 
 tre page of the Times with some holes cut in it with 
 scissors. Here is a copy of the Times, It is this 
 page. You could easily recognise it, could you 
 not?" 
 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 " In each case the outside porter will send for 
 
 57 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 the hall porter, to whom also you will give a shil- 
 ling. Here are twenty-three shillings. You will 
 then learn in possibly twenty cases out of the 
 twenty-three that the waste of the day before has 
 been burned or removed. In the three other cases 
 you will be shown a heap of paper and you will look 
 for this page of the Times among it. The odds are 
 enormously against your finding it. There are ten 
 shillings over in case of emergencies. Let me have 
 a report by wire at Baker Street before evening. 
 And now, Watson, it only remains for us to find out 
 by wire the identity of the cabman, No. 2704, and 
 then we will drop into one of the Bond Street pict- 
 ure galleries and fill in the time until we are due at 
 the hotel." 
 
 58 
 
V 
 
 Three Broken Threads 
 
 SHERLOCK HOLMES had, in a very re- 
 markable degree, the power of detaching his 
 mind at will. For two hours the strange busi- 
 ness in which we had been involved appeared to be 
 forgotten, and he was entirely absorbed in the pict- 
 ures of the modern Belgian masters. He would 
 talk of nothing but art, of which he had the crudest 
 ideas, from our leaving the gallery until we found 
 ourselves at the Northumberland Hotel. 
 
 " Sir Henry Baskerville is upstairs expecting 
 you," said the clerk. He asked me to show you 
 up at once when you came." 
 
 " Have you any objection to my looking at your 
 register? " said Holmes. 
 Not in the least." 
 The book showed that two names had been added 
 after that of Baskerville. One was Theophilus 
 Johnson and family, of Newcastle; the other Mrs. 
 Oldmore and maid, of High Lodge, Alton. 
 
 " Surely that must be the same Johnson whom I 
 used to know," said Holmes to the porter. A 
 lawyer, is he not, grey-headed, and walks with a 
 limp? " 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " No, sir, this is Mr. Johnson, the coal-owner, a 
 very active gentleman, not older than yourself/' 
 
 " Surely you are mistaken about his trade? 
 
 " No, sir; he has used this hotel for many years, 
 and he is very well known to us." 
 
 " Ah, that settles it. Mrs. Oldmore, too; I seem 
 to remember the name. Excuse my curiosity, but 
 often in calling upon one friend one finds another." 
 
 She is an invalid lady, sir. Her husband was 
 once Mayor of Gloucester. She always comes to 
 us when she is in town." 
 
 " Thank you; I am afraid I cannot claim her ac- 
 quaintance. We have established a most important 
 fact by these questions, Watson," he continued, in a 
 low voice, as we went upstairs together. " We 
 know now that the people who are so interested in 
 our friend have not settled down in his own hotel. 
 That means that while they are, as we have seen, 
 very anxious to watch him they are equally anxious 
 that he should not see them. Now, this is a most 
 suggestive fact." 
 
 " What does it suggest? " 
 
 " It suggests — halloa, my dear fellow, what on 
 earth is the matter? " 
 
 As we came round the top of the stairs we had 
 run up against Sir Henry Baskerville himself. His 
 face was flushed with anger, and he held an old and 
 dusty boot in one of his hands. So furious was he 
 that he was hardly articulate, and when he did speak 
 it was in a much broader and more Western dialect 
 
 60 
 
THREE BROKEN THREADS 
 
 than any which we had heard from him in the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 " Seems to me they are playing me for a sucker 
 in this hotel/' he cried. They'll find they've 
 started in to monkey with the wrong man unless 
 they are careful. By thunder, if that chap can't find 
 my missing boot there will be trouble. I can take 
 a joke with the best, Mr. Holmes, but they've got a 
 bit over the mark this time." 
 
 Still looking for your boot? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, and mean to find it." 
 
 " But, surely, you said that it was a new brown 
 boot?" 
 
 So it was, sir. And now it's an old black 
 one." 
 
 " What! you don't mean to say ? " 
 
 " That's just what I do mean to say. I only had 
 three pairs in the world — the new brown, the old 
 black, and the patent leathers, which I am wearing. 
 Last night they took one of my brown ones, and 
 to-day they have sneaked one of the black. Well, 
 have you got it? Speak out, man, and don't stand 
 staring! " 
 
 An agitated German waiter had appeared upon 
 the scene. 
 
 " No, sir; I have made inquiry all over the hotel, 
 but I can hear no word of it." 
 
 " Well, either that boot comes back before sun- 
 down or I'll see the manager and tell him that I go 
 right straight out of this hotel." 
 
 6i 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 It shall be found, sir — I promise you that if you 
 will have a little patience it will be found/' 
 
 Mind it is, for it's the last thing of mine that 
 ril lose in this den of thieves. Well, well, Mr. 
 Holmes, you'll excuse my troubling you about such 
 a trifle " 
 
 I think it's well worth troubling about." 
 " Why, you look very serious over it." 
 
 How do you explain it? " 
 
 I just don't attempt to explain it. It seems the 
 very maddest, queerest thing that ever happened to 
 me. 
 
 The queerest perhaps " said Holmes, 
 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 What do you make of it yourself? " 
 
 Well, I don't profess to understand it yet. This 
 case of yours is very complex. Sir Henry. When 
 taken in conjunction with your uncle's death I am 
 not sure that of all the five hundred cases of capital 
 importance which I have handled there is one which 
 cuts so deep. But we hold several threads in our 
 hands, and the odds are that one or other of them 
 guides us to the truth. We may waste time in fol- 
 lowing the wrong one, but sooner or later we must 
 come upon the right." 
 
 We had a pleasant luncheon in which little was 
 said of the business which had brought us together. 
 It was in the private sitting-room to which we after- 
 wards repaired that Holmes asked Baskerville what 
 were his intentions. 
 
 62 
 
THREE BROKEN THREADS 
 
 To go to Baskerville Hall." 
 
 ''And when?" 
 
 " At the end of the week." 
 On the whole," said Holmes, " I think that your 
 decision is a wise one. I have ample evidence that 
 you are being dogged in London, and amid the mill- 
 ions of this great city it is difficult to discover who 
 these people are or what their object can be. If 
 their intentions are evil they might do you a mis- 
 chief, and we should be powerless to prevent it. 
 You did not know. Dr. Mortimer, that you were 
 followed this morning from my house? " 
 
 Dr. Mortimer started violently. 
 
 "Followed! By whom?" 
 
 " That, unfortunately, is what I cannot tell you. 
 Have you among your neighbours or acquaintances 
 on Dartmoor any man with a black, full beard? " 
 
 " No — or, let me see — why, yes. Barrymore, Sir 
 Charles's butler, is a man with a full, black beard." 
 
 " Ha! Where is Barrymore? " 
 
 " He is in charge of the Hall." 
 
 " We had best ascertain if he is really there, or if 
 by any possibility he might be in London." 
 
 " How can you do that? " 
 
 " Give me a telegraph form. ' Is all ready for Sir 
 Henry?' That will do. Address to Mr. Barry- 
 more, Baskerville Hall. What is the nearest tele- 
 graph-office? Grimpen. Very good, we will send 
 a second wire to the post-master, Grimpen: 'Tele- 
 gram to Mr. Barrymore, to be delivered into his 
 
 63 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 own hand. If absent, please return wire to Sir 
 Henry Baskerville, Northumberland Hotel.' That 
 should let us know before evening whether Barry- 
 more is at his post in Devonshire or not." 
 
 That's so," said Baskerville. By the way, Dr. 
 Mortimer, who is this Barrymore, anyhow? " 
 
 " He is the son of the old caretaker, who is dead. 
 They have looked after the Hall for four generations 
 now. So far as I know, he and his wife are as re- 
 spectable a couple as any in the county," 
 
 " At the same time," said Baskerville, it's clear 
 enough that so long as there are none of the family 
 at the Hall these people have a mighty fine home 
 and nothing to do." 
 
 " That is true." 
 Did Barrymore profit at all by Sir Charles's 
 will? " asked Holmes. 
 
 " He and his wife had five hundred pounds 
 each." 
 
 " Ha! Did they know that they would receive 
 this? " 
 
 " Yes; Sir Charles was very fond of talking about 
 the provisions of his will." 
 That is very interesting," 
 
 " I hope," said Dr. Mortimer, " that you do not 
 look with suspicious eyes upon everyone who re- 
 ceived a legacy from Sir Charles, for I also had a 
 thousand pounds left to me." 
 
 " Indeed! And anyone else? " 
 
 " There were many insignificant sums to individ- 
 
 64 
 
5 
 
 THREE BROKEN THREADS 
 
 uals, and a large number of public charities. The 
 residue all went to Sir Henry." 
 
 " And how much was the residue? " 
 
 " Seven hundred and forty thousand pounds." 
 
 Holmes raised his eyebrows in surprise. I had 
 no idea that so gigantic a sum was involved/' said 
 he. 
 
 " Sir Charles had the reputation of being rich, but 
 we did not know how very rich he was until we 
 came to examine his securities. The total value of 
 the estate was close on to a million." 
 
 " Dear me! It is a stake for which a man might 
 well play a desperate game. And one more ques- 
 tion, Dr. Mortimer. Supposing that anything 
 happened to our young friend here — ^you will for- 
 give the unpleasant hypothesis ! — who would inherit 
 the estate? " 
 
 " Since Rodger Baskerville, Sir Charles's younger 
 brother, died unmarried, the estate would descend 
 to the Desmonds^ who are distant cousins. James 
 Desmond is an elderly clergyman in Westmorland." 
 
 " Thank you. These details are all of great in- 
 terest. Have you met Mr. James Desmond?" 
 
 "Yes; he once came down to visit Sir Charles. 
 He is a man of venerable appearance and of saintly 
 life. I remember that he refused to accept any set- 
 tlement from Sir Charles, though he pressed it upon 
 him." 
 
 " And this man of simple tastes would be the heir 
 to Sir Charles's thousands." 
 
 65 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 He would be the heir to the estate, because 
 that is entailed. He would also be the heir to the 
 money unless it wer^ willed otherwise by the pres- 
 ent owner, who can, of course, do what he likes 
 with it/' 
 
 " And have you made your will, Sir Henry? " 
 
 " No, Mr. Holmes, I have not. IVe had no 
 time, for it was only yesterday that I learned how 
 matters stood. But in any case I feel that the 
 money should go with the title and estate. That 
 was my poor uncle's idea. How is the owner going 
 to restore the glories of the Baskervilles if he has 
 not money enough to keep up the property? 
 House, land, and dollars must go together." 
 
 Quite so. Well, Sir Henry, I am of one mind 
 with you as to the advisability of your going down 
 to Devonshire without delay. There is only one 
 provision which I must make. You certainly must 
 not go alone.'' 
 
 " Dr. Mortimer returns with me." 
 
 " But Dr. Mortimer has his practice to attend to, 
 and his house is miles away from yours. With all 
 the good will in the world, he may be unable to 
 help you. No, Sir Henry, you must take with you 
 someone, a trusty man, who will be always by your 
 side." 
 
 " Is it possible that you could come yourself, Mr. 
 Holmes?" 
 
 If matters came to a crisis I should endeavour 
 to be present in person; but you can understand 
 
 66 
 
THREE BROKEN THREADS 
 
 that, with my extensive consulting practice and 
 with the constant appeals which reach me from 
 many quarters, it is impossible for me to be absent 
 from London for an indefinite time. At the pres- 
 ent instant one of the most revered names in Eng- 
 land is being besmirched by a blackmailer, and only 
 I can stop a disastrous scandal. You will see how 
 impossible it is for me to go to Dartmoor." 
 
 " Whom would you recommend, then? " 
 
 Holmes laid his hand upon my arm. 
 
 " If my friend would undertake it there is no man 
 who is better worth having at your side when you 
 are in a tight place. No one can say so more con- 
 fidently than 1." 
 
 The proposition took me completely by surprise, 
 but before I had time to answer, Baskerville seized 
 me by the hand and wrung it heartily. 
 
 " Well, now, that is real kind of you. Dr. Wat- 
 son,'' said he. You see how it is with me, and 
 you know just as much about the matter as I do. 
 If you will come down to Baskerville Hall and see 
 me through Til never forget it." 
 
 The promise of adventure had always a fascina- 
 tion for me, and I was complimented by the words 
 of Holmes and by the eagerness with which the 
 baronet hailed me as a companion. 
 
 " I will come, with pleasure," said I. I do not 
 know how I could employ my time better." 
 
 " And you will report very carefully to me," said 
 Holmes. " When a crisis comes, as it will do, I 
 
 67 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 will direct how you shall act. I suppose that by 
 Saturday all might be ready?'' 
 
 Would that suit Dr. Watson? " 
 
 Perfectly." 
 
 Then on Saturday, unless you hear to the con- 
 trary, we shall meet at the 10.30 train from Pad- 
 dington." 
 
 We had risen to depart when Baskerville gave 
 a cry of triumph, and diving into one of the corners 
 of the room he drew a brown boot from under a 
 cabinet. 
 
 " My missing boot! " he cried. 
 May all our difficulties vanish as easily!" said 
 Sherlock Holmes. 
 
 " But it is a very singular thing," Dr. Mortimer 
 remarked. " I searched this room carefully before 
 lunch." 
 
 " And so did I," said Baskerville. " Every inch 
 of it." 
 
 There was certainly no boot in it then." 
 
 In that case the waiter must have placed it there 
 while we were lunching." 
 
 The German was sent for, but professed to know 
 nothing of the matter, nor could any inquiry clear 
 it up. Another item had been added to that con- 
 stant and apparently purposeless series of small mys- 
 teries which had succeeded each other so rapidly. 
 Setting aside the whole grim story of Sir Charles's 
 death, we had a line of inexplicable incidents all 
 within the limits of two days, which included the 
 
 68 
 
THREE BROKEN THREADS 
 
 receipt of the printed letter, the black-bearded spy 
 in the hansom, the loss of the new brown boot, the 
 loss of the old black boot, and now the return of 
 the new brown boot. Holmes sat in silence in the 
 cab as we drove back to Baker Street, and I knew 
 from his drawn brows and keen face that his mind, 
 like my own, was busy in endeavouring to frame 
 some scheme into which all these strange and ap- 
 parently disconnected episodes could be fitted. All 
 afternoon and late into the evening he sat lost in 
 tobacco and thought. 
 
 Just before dinner two telegrams were handed in. 
 The first ran : — 
 
 Have just heard that Barrymore is at the Hall. 
 — Baskerville." The second: — 
 
 Visited twenty-three hotels as directed, but 
 sorry to report unable to trace cut sheet of Times. 
 — Cartwright." 
 
 There go two of my threads, Watson. There 
 is nothing more stimulating than a case where every- 
 thing goes against you. We must cast round for 
 another scent. 
 
 " We have still the cabman who drove the spy." 
 
 " Exactly. I have wired to get his name and 
 address from the Ofificial Registry. I should not 
 be surprised if this were an answer to my question." 
 
 The ring at the bell proved to be something even 
 more satisfactory than an answer, however, for the 
 door opened and a rough-looking fellow entered 
 who was evidently the man himself. 
 
 69 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 I got a message from the head office that a gent 
 at this address had been inquiring for 2,704/' said 
 he. Tve driven my cab this seven years and never 
 a word of complaint. I came here straight from the 
 Yard to ask you to your face what you had against 
 me. 
 
 " I have nothing in the world against you, my 
 good man," said Holmes. On the contrary, I 
 have half a sovereign for you if you will give me 
 a clear answer to my questions." 
 
 Well, I've had a good day and no mistake," said 
 the cabman, with a grin. What was it you want- 
 ed to ask, sir? " 
 
 First of all your name and address, in case I 
 want you again." 
 
 " John Clayton, 3, Turpey Street, the Borough. 
 My cab is out of Shipley's Yard, near Waterloo 
 Station." 
 
 Sherlock Holmes made a note of it. 
 
 " Now, Clayton, tell me all about the fare who 
 came and watched this house at ten o'clock this 
 morning and afterwards followed the two gentle- 
 men down Regent Street." 
 
 The man looked surprised and a little embar- 
 rassed. Why, there's no good my telling you 
 things, for you seem to know as much as I do al- 
 ready," said he. " The truth is that the gentleman 
 told me that he was a detective and that I was to 
 say nothing about him to anyone." 
 
 " My good fellow, this is a very serious business, 
 
 70 
 
THREE BROKEN THREADS 
 
 and you may find yourself in a pretty bad position 
 if you try to hide anything from me. You say that 
 your fare told you that he was a detective? " 
 
 " Yes, he did." 
 
 " When did he say this? 
 
 " When he left me." 
 
 " Did he say anything more? " 
 
 " He mentioned his name." 
 
 Holmes cast a swift glance of triumph at me. 
 " Oh, he mentioned his name, did he? That was 
 imprudent. What was the name that he men- 
 tioned?" 
 
 " His name," said the cabman, " was Mr. Sher- 
 lock Holmes." 
 
 Never have I seen my friend more completely 
 taken aback than by the cabman's reply. For an 
 instant he sat in silent amazement. Then he burst 
 into a hearty laugh. 
 
 "A touch, Watson — an undeniable touch!" said 
 he. " I feel a foil as quick and supple as my own. 
 He got home upon me very prettily that time. So 
 his name was Sherlock Holmes, was it? " 
 Yes, sir, that was the gentleman's name." 
 
 " Excellent ! Tell me where you picked him up 
 and all that occurred." 
 
 " He hailed me at half-past nine in Trafalgar 
 Square. He said that he was a detective, and he 
 offered me two guineas if I would do exactly what 
 he wanted all day and ask no questions. I was glad 
 enough to agree. First we drove down to the Nor- 
 
 71 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 thumberland Hotel and waited there until two 
 gentlemen came out and took a cab from the rank. 
 We followed their cab until it pulled up somewhere 
 near here." 
 
 This very door," said Holmes. 
 " Well, I couldn't be sure of that, but I daresay 
 my fare knew all about it. We pulled up half-way 
 down the street and waited an hour and a half. 
 Then the two gentlemen passed us, walking, and we 
 
 followed down Baker Street and along " 
 
 I know," said Holmes. 
 
 Until we got three-quarters down Regent 
 Street. Then my gentleman threw up the trap, and 
 he cried that I should drive right away to Waterloo 
 Station as hard as I could go. I whipped up the 
 mare and we were there under the ten minutes. 
 Then he paid up his two guineas, like a good one, 
 and away he went into the station. Only just as he 
 was leaving he turned round and he said: * It might 
 interest you to know that you have been driving 
 Mr. Sherlock Holmes.' That's how I come to 
 know the name." 
 
 I see. And you saw no more of him? " 
 
 Not after he went into the station." 
 
 And how would you describe Mr. Sherlock 
 Holmes? " 
 
 The cabman scratched his head. ^'Well, he 
 wasn't altogether such an easy gentleman to de- 
 scribe. I'd put him at forty years of age, and he 
 was of a middle height, two or three inches shorter 
 
 72 
 
THREE BROKEN THREADS 
 
 than you, sir. He was dressed like a toff, and he 
 had a black beard, cut square at the end, and a pale 
 face. I don't know as I could say more than 
 that." 
 
 " Colour of his eyes? " 
 
 " No, I can't say that." 
 
 " Nothing more that you can remember? " 
 
 " No, sir; nothing." 
 
 " Well, then, here is your half-sovereign. There's 
 another one waiting for you if you can bring any 
 more information. Good night!" 
 
 " Good night, sir, and thank you! " 
 
 John Clayton departed chuckling, and Holmes 
 turned to me with a shrug of the shoulders and a 
 rueful smile. 
 
 Snap goes our third thread, and we end where 
 we began," said he. ''The cunning rascal! He 
 knew our number, knew that Sir Henry Baskerville 
 had consulted me, spotted who I was in Regent 
 Street, conjectured that I had got the number of 
 the cab and would lay my hands on the driver, and 
 so sent back this audacious message. I tell you, 
 Watson, this time we have got a foeman who is 
 worthy of our steel. I've been checkmated in 
 London. I can only wish you better luck in 
 Devonshire. But I'm not easy in my mind about 
 it." 
 
 About what? " 
 "About sending you. It's an ugly business, 
 Watson, an ugly, dangerous business, and the more 
 
 73 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 I see of it the less I like it. Yes, my dear fellow, 
 you may laugh, but I give you my word that I shall 
 be very glad to have you back safe and sound in 
 Baker Street once more/' 
 
 74 
 
VI 
 
 Baskerville Hall 
 
 SIR HENRY BASKERVILLE and Dr. Mor- 
 timer were ready upon the appointed day, 
 and we started as arranged for Devonshire. 
 Mr. Sherlock Holmes drove with me to the station 
 and gave me his last parting injunctions and advice. 
 
 " I will not bias your mind by suggesting theories 
 or suspicions, Watson,'' said he; I wish you simply 
 to report facts in the fullest possible manner to me, 
 and you can leave me to do the theorizing." 
 " What sort of facts? '' I asked. 
 " Anything which may seem to have a bearing 
 however indirect upon the case, and especially the 
 relations between young Baskerville and his neigh- 
 bours or any fresh particulars concerning the death 
 of Sir Charles. I have made some inquiries myself 
 in the last few days, but the results have, I fear, been 
 negative. One thing only appears to be certain, 
 and that is that Mr. James Desmond, who is the 
 next heir, is an elderly gentleman of a very amiable 
 disposition, so that this persecution does not arise 
 from him. I really think that we may eliminate 
 him entirely from our calculations. There remain 
 the people who will actually surround Sir Henry 
 Baskerville upon the moor." 
 
 75 
 
THE MOlTND OF THE BASKERVlLLES 
 
 Would it not be well in the first place to get 
 rid of this Barrymore couple? " 
 
 " By no means. You could not make a greater 
 mistake. If they are innocent it would be a cruel 
 injustice, and if they are guilty we should be giving 
 up all chance of bringing it home to them. No, no, 
 we will preserve them upon our list of suspects. 
 Then there is a groom at the Hall, if I remember 
 right. There are two moorland farmers. There is 
 our friend Dr. Mortimer, whom I believe to be en- 
 tirely honest, and there is his wife, of whom we 
 know nothing. There is this naturalist Stapleton, 
 and there is his sister, who is said to be a young 
 lady of attractions. There is Mr. Frankland, of 
 Lafter Hall, who is also an unknown factor, and 
 there are one or two other neighbours. These are 
 the folk who must be your very special study.'* 
 
 " I will do my best." 
 
 " You have arms, I suppose? 
 
 " Yes, I thought it as well to take them." 
 
 " Most certainly. Keep your revolver near you 
 night and day, and never relax your precautions." 
 
 Our friends had already secured a first-class car- 
 riage, and were waiting for us upon the platform. 
 
 " No, we have no news of any kind," said Dr. 
 Mortimer, in answer to my friend's questions. " I 
 can swear to one thing, and that is that we have 
 not been shadowed during the last two days. We 
 have never gone out without keeping a sharp watch, 
 and no one could have escaped our notice." 
 
 76 
 
BASKERVILLE HALL 
 
 " You have always kept together, I presume? 
 
 " Except yesterday afternoon. I usually give up 
 one day to pure amusement when I come to town, 
 so I spent it at the Museum of the College of Sur- 
 geons." 
 
 And I went to look at the folk in the park,'' 
 said Baskerville. " But we had no trouble of any 
 kind." 
 
 It was imprudent, all the same," said Holmes, 
 shaking his head and looking very grave. I beg, 
 Sir Henry, that you will not go about alone. Some 
 great misfortune will befall you if you do. Did you 
 get your other boot? " 
 
 No, sir, it is gone for ever." 
 " Indeed. That is very interesting. Well, good- 
 bye," he added, as the train began to glide down 
 the platform. Bear in mind, Sir Henry, one of 
 the phrases in that queer old legend which Dr. Mor- 
 timer has read to us, and avoid the moor in those 
 hours of darkness when the powers of evil are ex- 
 alted." 
 
 I looked back at the platform when we had left 
 it far behind, and saw the tall, austere figure of 
 Holmes standing motionless and gazing after us. 
 
 The journey was a swift and pleasant one, and 
 I spent it in making the more intimate acquaintance 
 of my two companions and in playing with Dr. Mor- 
 timer's spaniel. In a very few hours the brown 
 earth had become ruddy, the brick had changed to 
 granite, and red cows grazed in well-hedged fields 
 
 77 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 where the lush grasses and more luxuriant vegeta- 
 tion spoke of a richer, if a damper, climate. Young 
 Baskerville stared eagerly out of the window, and 
 cried aloud with delight as he recognised the famil- 
 iar features of the Devon scenery. 
 
 I've been over a good part of the world since 
 I left it, Dr. Watson," said he; but I have never 
 seen a place to compare with it.'' 
 
 " I never saw a Devonshire man who did not 
 swear by his county," I remarked. 
 
 It depends upon the breed of men quite as much 
 as on the county," said Dr. Mortimer. " A glance 
 at our friend here reveals the rounded head of the 
 Celt, which carries inside it the Celtic enthusiasm 
 and power of attachment. Poor Sir Charles's head 
 was of a very rare type, half Gaelic, half Ivernian 
 in its characteristics. But you were very young 
 when you last saw Baskerville Hall, were you not? 
 
 " I was a boy in my 'teens at the time of my 
 father's death, and had never seen the Hall, for he 
 lived in a little cottage on the South Coast. Thence 
 I went straight to a friend in America. I tell you 
 it is all as new to me as it is to Dr. Watson, and I'm 
 as keen as possible to see the moor." 
 
 " Are you? Then your wish is easily granted, for 
 there is your first sight of the moor," said Dr. Mor- 
 timer, pointing out of the carriage window. 
 
 Over the green squares of the fields and the low 
 curve of a wood there rose in the distance a grey, 
 melancholy hill, with a strange jagged summit, dim 
 
 78 
 
BASKERVILLE HALL 
 
 and vague in the distance, like some fantastic land- 
 scape in a dream. Baskerville sat for a long time, 
 his eyes fixed upon it, and I read upon his eager 
 face how much it meant to him, this first sight of 
 that strange spot where the men of his blood had 
 held sway so long and left their mark so deep. 
 There he sat, with his tweed suit and his American 
 accent, in the corner of a prosaic railway-carriage, 
 and yet as I looked at his dark and expressive face 
 I felt more than ever how true a descendant he was 
 of that long line of high-blooded, fiery, and master- 
 ful men. There were pride, valour, and strength in 
 his thick brows, his sensitive nostrils, and his large 
 hazel eyes. If on that forbidding moor a difficult 
 and dangerous quest should lie before us, this was 
 at least a comrade for whom one might venture to 
 take a risk with the certainty that he would bravely 
 share it. 
 
 The train pulled up at a small wayside station and 
 we all descended. Outside, beyond the low, white 
 fence, a wagonette with a pair of cobs was waiting. 
 Our coming was evidently a great event, for station- 
 master and porters clustered round us to carry out 
 our luggage. It was a sweet, simple country spot, 
 but I was surprised to observe that by the gate there 
 stood two soldierly men in dark uniforms, who 
 leaned upon their short rifles and glanced keenly at 
 us as we passed. The coachman, a hard-faced, 
 gnarled little fellow, saluted Sir Henry Baskerville, 
 and in a few minutes we were flying swiftly down 
 
 79 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 the broad, white road. RolHng pasture lands 
 curved upwards on either side of us, and old gabled 
 houses peeped out from amid the thick green foli- 
 age, but behind the peaceful and sunlit country-side 
 there rose ever, dark against the evening sky, the 
 long, gloomy curve of the moor, broken by the 
 jagged and sinister hills. 
 
 The wagonette swung round into a side road, 
 and we curved upwards through deep lanes worn by 
 centuries of wheels, high banks on either side, heavy 
 with dripping moss and fleshy hart's-tongue ferns. 
 Bronzing bracken and mottled bramble gleamed in 
 the light of the sinking sun. Still steadily rising, 
 we passed over a narrow granite bridge, and skirted 
 a noisy stream which gushed swiftly down, foaming 
 and roaring amid the grey boulders. Both road 
 and stream wound up through a valley dense with 
 scrub oak and fir. At every turning Baskerville 
 gave an exclamation of delight, looking eagerly 
 about him and asking countless questions. To his 
 eyes all seemed beautiful, but to me a tinge of mel- 
 ancholy lay upon the country-side, which bore so 
 clearly the mark of the waning year. Yellow leaves 
 carpeted the lanes and fluttered down upon us as 
 we passed. The rattle of our wheels died away as 
 we drove through drifts of rotting vegetation — sad 
 gifts, as it seemed to me, for Nature to throw be- 
 fore the carriage of the returning heir of the Basker- 
 villes. 
 
 " HaUoa! cried Dr. Mortimer, what is this? " 
 
 80 
 
BASKERVILLE HALL 
 
 A steep curve of heath-clad land, an outlying spur 
 of the moor, lay in front of us. On the summit, 
 hard and clear like an equestrian statue upon its 
 pedestal, was a mounted soldier, dark and stern, his 
 rifle poised ready over his forearm. He was watch- 
 ing the road along which we travelled. 
 
 " What is this, Perkins? " asked Dr. Mortimer. 
 
 Our driver half turned in his seat. 
 
 " There's a convict escaped from Princetown, sir. 
 He's been out three days now, and the warders 
 watch every road and every station, but they've had 
 no sight of him yet. The farmers about here don't 
 like it, sir, and that's a fact." 
 
 Well, I understand that they get five pounds if 
 they can give information." 
 
 Yes, sir, but the chance of five pounds is but a 
 poor thing compared to the chance of having your 
 throat cut. You see, it isn't like any ordinary con- 
 vict. This is a man that would stick at nothing." 
 Who is he, then?" 
 
 It is Selden, the Notting Hill murderer." 
 I remembered the case well, for it was one in 
 which Holmes had taken an interest on account of 
 the peculiar ferocity of the crime and the wanton 
 brutality which had marked all the actions of the 
 assassin. The commutation of his death sentence 
 had been due to some doubts as to his complete 
 sanity, so atrocious was his conduct. Our wagon- 
 ette had topped a rise and in front of us rose the 
 huge expanse of the moor, mottled with gnarled and 
 
 8i 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 craggy cairns and tors. A cold wind swept down 
 from it and set us shivering. Somewhere there, on 
 that desolate plain, was lurking this fiendish man, 
 hiding in a burrow like a wild beast, his heart full of 
 malignancy against the whole race which had cast 
 him out. It needed but this to complete the grim 
 suggestiveness of the barren waste, the chilling 
 wind, and the darkling sky. Even Baskerville fell 
 silent and pulled his overcoat more closely around 
 him. 
 
 We had left the fertile country behind and be- 
 neath us. We looked back on it now, the slanting 
 rays of a low sun turning the streams to threads of 
 gold and glowing on the red earth new turned by 
 the plough and the broad tangle of the woodlands. 
 The road in front of us grew bleaker and wilder 
 over huge russet and olive slopes, sprinkled with 
 giant boulders. Now and then we passed a moor- 
 land cottage, walled and roofed with stone, with no 
 creeper to break its harsh outline. Suddenly we 
 looked down into a cup-like depression, patched 
 with stunted oaks and firs which had been twisted 
 and bent by the fury of years of storm. Two high, 
 narrow towers rose over the trees. The driver 
 pointed with his whip. 
 
 " Baskerville Hall,'' said he. 
 
 Its master had risen and was staring with flushed 
 cheeks and shining eyes. A few minutes later we 
 had reached the lodge-gates, a maze of fantastic 
 tracery in wrought iron, with weather-bitten pillars 
 
 82 
 
The driver pointed with his whip. " Baskerville 
 
 Hall," said he. 
 
BASKERVILLE HALL 
 
 on either side, blotched with lichens, and surmount- 
 ed by the boars' heads of the Baskervilles. The 
 lodge was a ruin of black granite and bared ribs of 
 rafters, but facing it was a new building, half con- 
 structed, the first fruit of Sir Charles's South Afri- 
 can gold. 
 
 Through the gateway we passed into the avenue, 
 where the wheels were again hushed amid the leaves, 
 and the old trees shot their branches in a sombre 
 tunnel over our heads. Baskerville shuddered as 
 he looked up the long, dark drive to where the 
 house glimmered like a ghost at the farther end. 
 
 " Was it here? he asked, in a low voice. 
 No, no, the Yew Alley is on the other side." 
 
 The young heir glanced round with a gloomy 
 face. 
 
 " It's no wonder my uncle felt as if trouble were 
 coming on him in such a place as this,'' said he. 
 " It's enough to scare any man. I'll have a row of 
 electric lamps up here inside of six months, and you 
 won't know it again, with a thousand candle-power 
 Swan and Edison right here in front of the hall 
 door." 
 
 The avenue opened into a broad expanse of turf, 
 and the house lay before us. In the fading light 
 I could see that the centre was a heavy block of 
 building from which a porch projected. The whole 
 front was draped in ivy, with a patch clipped bare 
 here and there where a window or a coat-of-arms 
 broke through the dark veil. From this central 
 
 83 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 block rose the twin towers, ancient, crenelated, and 
 pierced with many loopholes. To right and left of 
 the turrets were more modern wings of black gran- 
 ite. A dull light shone through heavy mullioned 
 windows, and from the high chimneys which rose 
 from the steep, high-angled roof there sprang a sin- 
 gle black column of smoke. 
 
 Welcome, Sir Henry ! Welcome, to Ba^Tcer- 
 ville Hall!'^ 
 
 A tall man had stepped from the shadow of the 
 porch to open the door of the wagonette. The 
 figure of a woman was silhouetted against the yel- 
 low light of the hall. She came out and helped the 
 man to hand down our bags. 
 
 " You don't mind my driving straight home, Sir 
 Henry? said Dr. Mortimer. " My wife is expect- 
 ing me." 
 
 " Surely you will stay and have some dinner? 
 No, I must go. I shall probably find some 
 work awaiting me. I would stay to show you over 
 the house, but Barrymore will be a better guide than 
 I. Good-bye, and never hesitate night or day to 
 send for me if I can be of service." 
 
 The wheels died away down the drive while Sir 
 Henry and I turned into the hall, and the door 
 clanged heavily behind us. It was a fine apartment 
 in which we found ourselves, large, lofty, and heav- 
 ily raftered with huge balks of age-blackened oak. 
 In the great old-fashioned fireplace behind the high 
 iron dogs a log-fire crackled and snapped. Sir 
 
 84 
 
BASKERVILLE HALL 
 
 Henry and I held out our hands to it, for we were 
 numb from our long drive. Then we gazed round 
 us at the high, thin window of old stained glass, the 
 oak panelling, the stags' heads, the coats-of-arms 
 upon the walls, all dim and sombre in the subdued 
 light of the central lamp. 
 
 " It's just as I imagined it," said Sir Henry. " Is 
 it not the very picture of an old family home? To 
 think that this should be the same hall in which for 
 five hundred years my people have lived. It strikes 
 me solemn to think of it." 
 
 I saw his dark face lit up with a boyish enthusiasm 
 as he gazed about him. The light beat upon him 
 where he stood, but long shadows trailed down the 
 walls and hung like a black canopy above him. 
 Barrymore had returned from taking our luggage 
 to our rooms. He stood in front of us now with 
 the subdued manner of a well-trained servant. He 
 was a remarkable-looking man, tall, handsome, with 
 a square black beard, and pale, distinguished feat- 
 ures. 
 
 " Would you wish dinner to be served at once, 
 sir? '^ 
 
 " Is it ready? " 
 
 " In a very few minutes, sir. You will find hot 
 water in your rooms. My wife and I will be happy. 
 Sir Henry, to stay with you until you have made 
 your fresh arrangements, but you will understand 
 that under the new conditions this house will re- 
 quire a considerable staff." 
 
 85 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 What new conditions? " 
 " I only meant, sir, that Sir Charles led a very 
 retired life, and we were able to look after his wants. 
 You would, naturally, wish to have more company, 
 and so you will need changes in your household." 
 
 Do you mean that your wife and you wish to 
 leave?" 
 
 " Only when it is quite convenient to you, sir." 
 But your family have been with us for several 
 generations, have they not? I should be sorry to 
 begin my life here by breaking an old family con- 
 nection." 
 
 I seemed to discern some signs of emotion upon 
 the butler's white face. 
 
 I feel that also, sir, and so does my wife. But 
 to tell the truth, sir, we were both very much at- 
 tached to Sir Charles, and his death gave us a shock 
 and made these surroundings very painful to us. I 
 fear that we shall never again be easy in our minds 
 at Baskerville Hall." 
 
 " But what do you intend to do? " 
 
 " I have no doubt, sir, that we shall succeed 
 in establishing ourselves in some business. Sir 
 Charles's generosity has given us the means to do 
 so. And now, sir, perhaps I had best show you to 
 your rooms." 
 
 A square balustraded gallery ran round the top 
 of the old hall, approached by a double stair. From 
 this central point two long corridors extended the 
 whole length of the building, from which all the 
 
 86 
 
BASKERVILLE HALL 
 
 bedrooms opened. My own was in the same wing 
 as Baskerville's and almost next door to it. These 
 rooms appeared to be much more modern than the 
 central part of the house, and the bright paper and 
 numerous candles did something to remove the 
 sombre impression which our arrival had left upon 
 my mind. 
 
 But the dining-room which opened out of the hall 
 was a place of shadow and gloom. It was a long 
 chamber with a step separating the dais where the 
 family sat from the lower portion reserved for their 
 dependents. At one end a minstrel's gallery over- 
 looked it. Black beams shot across above our 
 heads, with a smoke-darkened ceiling beyond them. 
 With rows of flaring torches to light it up, and the 
 colour and rude hilarity of an old-time banquet, it 
 might have softened; but now, when two black- 
 clothed gentlemen sat in the little circle of light 
 thrown by a shaded lamp, one's voice became 
 hushed and one's spirit subdued. A dim line of 
 ancestors, in every variety of dress, from the Eliza- 
 bethan knight to the buck of the Regency, stared ^ 
 down upon us and daunted us by their silent com- 
 pany. We talked little, and I for one was glad 
 when the meal was over and we were able to retire 
 into the modern billiard-room and smoke a cigar- 
 ette. 
 
 " My word, it isn't a very cheerful place," said 
 Sir Henry. I suppose one can tone down to it, 
 but I feel a bit out of the picture at present. I 
 
 87 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 don't wonder that my uncle got a little jumpy il he 
 lived all alone in such a house as this. However, if 
 it suits you, we will retire early to-night, and per- 
 haps things may seem more cheerful in the morn- 
 mg. 
 
 I drew aside my curtains before I went to bed 
 and looked out from my window. It opened upon 
 the grassy space which lay in front of the hall door. 
 Beyond, two copses of trees moaned and swung in 
 a rising wind. A half moon broke through the rifts 
 of racing clouds. In its cold light I saw beyond the 
 trees a broken fringe of rocks, and the long, low 
 curve of the melancholy moor. I closed the cur- 
 tain, feeling that my last impression was in keeping 
 with the rest. 
 
 And yet it was not quite the last. I found myself 
 weary and yet wakeful, tossing restlessly from side 
 to side, seeking for the sleep which would not come. 
 Far away a chiming clock struck out the quarters 
 of the hours, but otherwise a deathly silence lay 
 upon the old house. And then suddenly, in the 
 very dead of the night, there came a sound to my 
 ears, clear, resonant, and unmistakable. It was the 
 sob of a woman, the mufHed, strangling gasp of one 
 who is torn by an uncontrollable sorrow. I sat up 
 in bed and listened intently. The noise could not 
 have been far away and was certainly in the house. 
 For half an hour I waited with every nerve on the 
 alert, but there came no other sound save the chim- 
 ing clock and the rustle of the ivy on the wall. 
 
 88 
 
VII 
 
 The Stapletons of Merripit House 
 
 HE fresh beauty of the following morning 
 
 did something to efface from our minds 
 
 JL the grim and grey impression which had 
 been left upon both of us by our first experi- 
 ence of Baskerville Hall. As Sir Henry and I sat 
 at breakfast the sunlight flooded in through the 
 high mullioned windows, throwing watery patches 
 of colour from the coats of arms which covered 
 them. The dark panelling glowed like bronze in 
 the golden rays, and it was hard to realize that this 
 was indeed the chamber which had struck such a 
 gloom into our souls upon the evening before. 
 
 I guess it is ourselves and not the house that 
 we have to blame! " said the baronet. " We were 
 tired with our journey and chilled by our drive, so 
 we took a grey view of the place. Now we are 
 fresh and well, so it is all cheerful once more.'' 
 
 And yet it was not entirely a question of imag- 
 ination,'' I answered. Did you, for example, hap- 
 pen to hear someone, a woman I think, sobbing in 
 the night? " 
 
 That is curious, for I did when I was half asleep 
 fancy that I heard something of the sort. I waited 
 
 89 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 quite a time, but there was no more of it, so I con- 
 cluded that it was all a dream/' 
 
 " I heard it distinctly, and I am sure that it was 
 really the sob of a woman/' 
 
 We must ask about this right away/' He rang 
 the bell and asked Barrymore whether he could ac- 
 count for our experience. It seemed to me that 
 the pallid features of the butler turned a shade paler 
 still as he listened to his master's question. 
 
 There are only two women in the house. Sir 
 Henry," he answered. " One is the scullery-maid, 
 who sleeps in the other wing. The other is my 
 wife, and I can answer for it that the sound could 
 not have come from her." 
 
 And yet he lied as he said it, for it chanced that 
 after breakfast I met Mrs. Barrymore in the long 
 corridor with the sun full upon her face. She was 
 a large, impassive, heavy-featured woman with a 
 stern set expression of mouth. But her tell-tale 
 eyes were red and glanced at me from between 
 swollen lids. It was she, then, who wept in the 
 night, and if she did so her husband must know it. 
 Yet he had taken the obvious risk of discovery in 
 declaring that it was not so. Why had he done 
 this? And why did she weep so bitterly? Already 
 round this pale-faced, handsome, black-bearded 
 man there was gathering an atmosphere of mystery 
 and of gloom. It was he who had been the first 
 to discover the body of Sir Charles, and we had 
 only his word for all the circumstances which led 
 
 90 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE 
 
 up to the old man's death. Was it possible that it 
 was Barrymore after all whom we had seen in the 
 cab in Regent Street? The beard might well have 
 been the same. The cabman had described a some- 
 what shorter man, but such an impression might 
 easily have been erroneous. How could I settle the 
 point for ever? Obviously the first thing to do was 
 to see the Grimpen postmaster, and find whether 
 the test telegram had really been placed in Barry- 
 more's own hands. Be the answer what it might, 
 I should at least have something to report to Sher- 
 lock Holmes. 
 
 Sir Henry had numerous papers to examine after 
 breakfast, so that the time was propitious for my 
 excursion. It was a pleasant walk of four miles 
 along the edge of the moor, leading me at last to a 
 small grey hamlet, in which two larger buildings, 
 which proved to be the inn and the house of Dr. 
 Mortimer, stood high above the rest. The post- 
 master, who was also the village grocer, had a clear 
 recollection of the telegram. 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said he, " I had the telegram 
 delivered to Mr. Barrymore exactly as directed." 
 
 "Who delivered it?" 
 
 " My boy here. James, you delivered that tele- 
 gram to Mr. Barrymore at the Hall last week, did 
 you not? " 
 
 " Yes, father, I delivered it." 
 
 " Into his own hands? " I asked. 
 Well, he was up in the loft at the time, so that 
 
 91 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 I could not put it into his own hands, but I gave 
 it into Mrs. Barrymore's hands, and she promised to 
 deliver it at once/' 
 
 " Did you see Mr. Barry more? " 
 
 " No, sir; I tell you he was in the loft." 
 If you didn't see him, how do you know he was 
 in the loft?'' 
 
 Well, surely his own wife ought to know where 
 he is," said the postmaster, testily. " Didn't he get 
 the telegram? If there is any mistake it is for Mr. 
 Barrymore himself to complain." 
 
 It seemed hopeless to pursue the inquiry any far- 
 ther, but it was clear that in spite of Holmes's ruse 
 we had no proof that Barrymore had not been in 
 London all the time. Suppose that it were so — 
 suppose that the same man had been the last who 
 had seen Sir Charles alive, and the first to dog the 
 new heir when he returned to England. What 
 then? Was he the agent of others or had he some 
 sinister design of his own? What interest could he 
 have in persecuting the Baskerville family? I 
 thought of the strange warning clipped out of the 
 leading article of the Times. Was that his work or 
 was it possibly the doing of someone who was bent 
 upon counteracting his schemes? The only con- 
 ceivable motive was that which had been suggested 
 by Sir Henry, that if the family could be scared away 
 a comfortable and permanent home would be se- 
 cured for the Barrymores. But surely such an ex- 
 planation as that would be quite inadequate to 
 
 92 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE 
 
 account for the deep and subtle scheming which 
 seemed to be weaving an invisible net round the 
 young baronet. Holmes himself had said that no 
 more complex case had come to him in all the long 
 series of his sensational investigations. I prayed, 
 as I walked back along the grey, lonely road, that 
 my friend might soon be freed from his preoccupa- 
 tions and able to come down to take this heavy 
 burden of responsibility from my shoulders. 
 
 Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the 
 sound of running feet behind me and by a voice 
 which called me by name. I turned, expecting to 
 see Dr. Mortimer, but to my surprise it was a 
 stranger who was pursuing me. He was a small, 
 slim, clean-shaven, prim-faced man, flaxen-haired 
 and lean-jawed, between thirty and forty years of 
 age, dressed in a grey suit and wearing a straw hat. 
 A tin box for botanical specimens hung over his 
 shoulder and he carried a green butterfly-net in one 
 of his hands. 
 
 You will, I am sure, excuse my presumption, 
 Dr. Watson," said he, as he came panting up to 
 where I stood. " Here on the moor we are homely 
 folk and do not wait for formal introductions. You 
 may possibly have heard my name from our mutual 
 friend, Mortimer. I am Stapleton, of Merripit 
 House." 
 
 Your net and box would have told me as much," 
 said I, for I knew that Mr. Stapleton was a nat- 
 uralist. But how did you know me? " 
 
 93 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 I have been calling on Mortimer, and he pointed 
 you out to me from the window of his surgery as 
 you passed. As our road lay the same way I 
 thought that I would overtake you and introduce 
 myself. I trust that Sir Henry is none the worse 
 for his journey? " 
 
 " He is very well, thank you." 
 We were all rather afraid that after the sad 
 death of Sir Charles the new baronet might refuse 
 to live here. It is asking much of a wealthy man 
 to come down and bury himself in a place of this 
 kind, but I need not tell you that it means a very 
 great deal to the country-side. Sir Henry has, I 
 suppose, no superstitious fears in the matter? " 
 I do not think that it is likely." 
 
 " Of course you know the legend of the fiend dog 
 which haunts the family? " 
 
 " I have heard it." 
 
 " It is extraordinary how credulous the peasants 
 are about here ! Any number of them are ready to 
 swear that they have seen such a creature upon the 
 moor." He spoke with a smile, but I seemed to 
 read in his eyes that he took the matter more se- 
 riously. The story took a great hold upon the 
 imagination of Sir Charles, and I have no doubt that 
 it led to his tragic end." 
 
 " But how? " 
 
 " His nerves were so worked up that the appear- 
 ance of any dog might have had a fatal effect upon 
 his diseased heart. I fancy that he really did see 
 
 94 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE 
 
 something of the kind upon that last night in the 
 Yew Alley. I feared that some disaster might oc- 
 cur, for I was very fond of the old man, and I knew 
 that his heart was weak.'' 
 
 How did you know that? " 
 My friend Mortimer told me.'' 
 
 " You think, then, that some dog pursued Sir 
 Charles, and that he died of fright in consequence? " 
 Have you any better explanation? " 
 
 " I have not come to any conclusion." 
 
 " Has Mr. Sherlock Holmes? " 
 
 The words took away my breath for an instant, 
 but a glance at the placid face and steadfast eyes of 
 my companion showed that no surprise was in- 
 tended. 
 
 " It is useless for us to pretend that we do not 
 know you. Dr. Watson," said he. " The records of 
 your detective have reached us here, and you could 
 not celebrate him without being known yourself. 
 When Mortimer told me your name he could not 
 deny your identity. If you are here, then it follows 
 that Mr. Sherlock Holmes is interesting himself in 
 the matter, and I am naturally curious to know what ; 
 view he may take." 
 
 " I am afraid that I cannot answer that question.'* 
 
 " May I ask if he is going to honour us with a 
 visit himself? " 
 
 " He cannot leave town at present. He has 
 other cases which engage his attention." 
 
 " What a pity! He might throw some light on 
 
 95 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 that which is so dark to us. But as to your own 
 researches, if there is any possible way in which I 
 can be of service to you I trust that you will com- 
 mand me. If I had any indication of the nature 
 of your suspicions, or how you propose to investi- 
 gate the case, I might perhaps even now give you 
 some aid or advice." 
 
 I assure you that I am simply here upon a visit 
 to my friend Sir Henry, and that I need no help of 
 any kind.'' 
 
 "Excellent!'' said Stapleton. "You are per- 
 fectly right to be wary and discreet. I am justly 
 reproved for what I feel was an unjustifiable intru- 
 sion, and I promise you that I will not mention the 
 matter again." 
 
 We had come to a point where a narrow grassy 
 path struck off from the road and wound away 
 across the moor. A steep, boulder-sprinkled hill 
 lay upon the right which had in bygone days been 
 cut into a granite quarry. The face which was 
 turned towards us formed a dark clifif, with ferns 
 and brambles growing in its niches. From over a 
 distant rise there floated a grey plume of smoke. 
 
 " A moderate walk along this moor-path brings 
 us to Merripit House," said he. " Perhaps you will 
 spare an hour that I may have the pleasure of in- 
 troducing you to my sister." 
 
 My first thought was that I should be by Sir 
 Henry's side. But then I remembered the pile of 
 papers and bills with which his study table was lit- 
 
 96 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE 
 
 tered. It was certain that I could not help him 
 with those. And Holmes had expressly said that 
 I should study the neighbours upon the moor. I 
 accepted Stapleton's invitation, and we turned to- 
 gether down the path. 
 
 " It is a wonderful place, the moor," said he, look- 
 ing round over the undulating downs, long green 
 rollers, with crests of jagged granite foaming up 
 into fantastic surges. You never tire of the moor. 
 You cannot think the wonderful secrets which it 
 contains. It is so vast, and so barren, and so mys- 
 terious.'' 
 
 You know it well, then? " 
 
 " I have only been here two years. The residents 
 would call me a new comer. We came shortly af- 
 ter Sir Charles settled. But my tastes led me to 
 explore every part of the country round, and I 
 should think that there are few men who know it 
 better than I do." 
 
 ^' Is it so hard to know? " 
 
 " Very hard. You see, for example, this great 
 plain to the north here, with the queer hills break- 
 ing out of it. Do you observe anything remark- 
 able about that? " 
 
 " It would be a rare place for a gallop." 
 
 " You would naturally think so and the thought 
 has cost several their lives before now. You notice 
 those bright green spots scattered thickly over 
 it?" 
 
 Yes, they seem more fertile than the rest." 
 
 97 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Stapleton laughed. 
 That is the great Grimpen Mire/' said he. A 
 false step yonder means death to man or beast. 
 Only yesterday I saw one of the moor ponies wan- 
 der into it. He never came out. I saw his head 
 for quite a long time craning out of the bog-hole, 
 but it sucked him down at last. Even in dry sea- 
 sons it is a danger to cross it, but after these 
 autumn rains it is an awful place. And yet I can 
 find my way to the very heart of it and return alive. 
 By George, there is another of those miserable 
 ponies!" 
 
 Something brown was rolling and tossing among 
 the green sedges. Then a long, agonized, writhing 
 neck shot upwards and a dreadful cry echoed over 
 the moor. It turned me cold with horror, but my 
 companion's nerves seemed to be stronger than 
 mine. 
 
 "It's gone!" said he. "The mire has him. 
 Two in two days, and many more, perhaps, for they 
 get in the way of going there in the dry weather, 
 and never know the difference until the mire has 
 them in its clutch. It's a bad place, the great 
 Grimpen Mire." 
 
 " And you say you can penetrate it? " 
 
 " Yes, there are one or two paths which a very 
 active man can take. I have found them out." 
 
 " But why should you wish to go into so horrible 
 a place? " 
 
 " Well, you see the hills beyond? They are 
 
 98 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE 
 
 really islands cut off on all sides by the impassable 
 mire, which has crawled round them in the course 
 of years. That is where the rare plants and the but- 
 terflies are, if you have the wit to reach them." 
 
 " I shall try my luck some day.'' 
 
 He looked at me with a surprised face. 
 For God's sake put such an idea out of your 
 mind," said he. Your blood would be upon my 
 head. I assure you that there would not be the 
 least chance of your coming back alive. It is only 
 by remembering certain complex landmarks that I 
 am able to do it." 
 
 " Halloa ! " I cried. " What is that? " 
 
 A long, low moan, indescribably sad, swept over 
 the moor. It filled the whole air, and yet it was 
 impossible to say whence it came. From a dull 
 murmur it swelled into a deep roar, and then sank 
 back into a melancholy, throbbing murmur once 
 again. Stapleton looked at me with a curious ex- 
 pression in his face. 
 
 "Queer place, the moor!" said he. 
 
 "But what is it?" 
 
 " The peasants say it is the Hound of the Basker- 
 villes calling for its prey. I've heard it once or 
 twice before, but never quite so loud." 
 
 I looked round, with a chill of fear in my heart, 
 at the huge swelling plain, mottled with the green 
 patches of rushes. Nothing stirred over the vast 
 expanse save a pair of ravens, which croaked loudly 
 from a tor behind us. 
 
 99 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " You are an educated man. You don't believe 
 such nonsense as that? " said 1. " What do you 
 think is the cause of so strange a sound? " 
 
 Bogs make queer noises sometimes. It's 
 the mud settling, or the water rising, or some- 
 . thing." 
 
 " No, no, that was a living voice." 
 Well, perhaps it was. Did you ever hear a bit- 
 tern booming? " 
 " No, I never did." 
 It's a very rare bird — practically extinct — in 
 England now, but all things are possible upon the 
 moor. Yes, I should not be surprised to learn that 
 what we have heard is the cry of the last of the 
 bitterns." 
 
 It's the weirdest, strangest thing that ever I 
 heard in my life." 
 
 " Yes, it's rather an uncanny place altogether. 
 Look at the hill-side yonder. What do you make 
 of those? " 
 
 The whole steep slope was covered with grey cir- 
 cular rings of stone, a score of them at least. 
 
 " What are they? Sheep-pens? " 
 
 " No, they are the homes of our worthy ancestors. 
 Prehistoric man lived thickly on the moor, and as 
 no one in particular has lived there since, we find all 
 his little arrangements exactly as he left them. 
 These are his wigwams with the roofs off. You can 
 even see his hearth and his couch if you have the 
 curiosity to go inside." 
 
 100 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE 
 
 But it is quite a town. When was it inhab- 
 ited? " 
 
 " Neolithic man — no date." 
 " What did he do?" 
 
 He grazed his cattle on these slopes, and he 
 learned to dig for tin when the bronze sword began 
 to supersede the stone axe. Look at the great 
 trench in the opposite hill. That is his mark. Yes, 
 you will find some very singular points about the 
 moor, Dr. Watson. Oh, excuse me an instant! It 
 is surely Cyclopides." 
 
 A small fly or moth had fluttered across our path, 
 and in an instant Stapleton was rushing with ex- 
 traordinary energy and speed in pursuit of it. To 
 my dismay the creature flew straight for the great 
 mire, and my acquaintance never paused for an in- 
 stant, bounding from tuft to tuft behind it, his green 
 net waving in the air. His grey clothes and jerky, 
 zigzag, irregular progress made him not unlike 
 some huge moth himself. I was standing watching 
 his pursuit with a mixture of admiration for his ex- 
 traordinary activity and fear lest he should lose his 
 footing in the treacherous mire, when I heard the 
 sound of steps, and turning round found a woman 
 near me upon the path. She had come from the 
 direction in which the plume of smoke indicated the 
 position of Merripit House, but the dip of the moor 
 had hid her until she was quite close. 
 
 I could not doubt that this was the Miss Staple- 
 ton of whom I had been told, since ladies of anv sort 
 
 lOI 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 must be few upon the moor, and I remembered that 
 I had heard someone describe her as being a beauty. ' 
 The woman who approached me was certainly that, 
 and of a most uncommon type. There could not 
 have been a greater contrast between brother and 
 sister, for Stapleton was neutral tinted, with Hght 
 hair and grey eyes, while she was darker than any 
 brunette whom I have seen in England — slim, ele- 
 gant, and tall. She had a proud, finely cut face, so 
 regular that it might have seemed impassive were 
 it not for the sensitive mouth and the beautiful dark, 
 eager eyes. With her perfect figure and elegant 
 dress she was, indeed, a strange apparition upon 
 a lonely moorland path. Her eyes were on her 
 brother as I turned, and then she quickened her pace 
 towards me. I had raised my hat, and was about 
 to make some explanatory remark, when her own 
 words turned all my thoughts into a new channel. 
 
 Go back!'' she said. ''Go straight back to 
 London, instantly." 
 
 I could only stare at her in stupid surprise. Her 
 eyes blazed at me, and she tapped the ground im- 
 patiently with her foot. 
 
 " Why should I go back? " I asked. 
 I cannot explain." She spoke in a low, eager 
 voice, with a curious lisp in her utterance. " But 
 for God's sake do what I ask you. Go back and 
 never set foot upon the moor again." 
 
 '' But I have only just come." 
 
 ''Man, man!" she cried. "Can you not tell 
 
 102 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE 
 
 when a warning is for your own good? Go back to 
 London! Start to-night! Get away from this 
 place at all costs! Hush, my brother is coming! 
 Not a word of what I have said. Would you mind 
 getting that orchid for me among the mares-tails 
 yonder? We are very rich in orchids on the moor, 
 though, of course, you are rather late to see the 
 beauties of the place." 
 
 Stapleton had abandoned the chase and came 
 back to us breathing hard and flushed with his ex- 
 ertions. 
 
 Halloa, Beryl! said he, and it seemed to me 
 that the tone of his greeting was not altogether a 
 cordial one. 
 
 Well, Jack, you are very hot." 
 
 " Yes, I was chasing a Cyclopides. He is very 
 rare and seldom found in the late autumn. What 
 a pity that I should have missed him! " He spoke 
 unconcernedly, but his small light eyes glanced in- 
 cessantly from the girl to me. 
 
 " You have introduced yourselves, I can see." 
 
 " Yes. I was telling Sir Henry that it was rather 
 late for him to see the true beauties of the 
 moor." 
 
 " Why, who do you think this is? " 
 " I imagine that it must be Sir Henry Basker- 
 ville." 
 
 No, no," said 1. " Only a humble commoner, 
 but his friend. My name is Dr. Watson." 
 
 A flush of vexation passed over her expressive 
 
 103 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 face. " We have been talking at cross purposes/' 
 said she. 
 
 Why, you had not very much time for talk," 
 her brother remarked, with the same questioning 
 eyes. 
 
 I talked as if Dr. Watson were a resident instead 
 of being merely a visitor," said she. It cannot 
 much matter to him whether it is early or late for 
 the orchids. But you will come on, will you not, 
 and see Merripit House? " 
 
 A short walk brought us to it, a bleak moorland 
 house, once the farm of some grazier in the old 
 prosperous days, but now put into repair and turned 
 into a modern dwelling. An orchard surrounded 
 it, but the trees, as is usual upon the moor, were 
 stunted and nipped, and the efifect of the whole place 
 was mean and melancholy. We were admitted by 
 a strange wizened, rusty-coated old man servant, 
 who seemed in keeping with the house. Inside, 
 however, there were large rooms furnished with an 
 elegance in which I seemed to recognise the taste 
 of the lady. As I looked from their windows at the 
 interminable granite-flecked moor rolling unbroken 
 to the farthest horizon I could not but marvel at 
 what could have brought this highly educated 
 man and this beautiful woman to live in such a 
 place. 
 
 Queer spot to choose, is it not? " said he, as if 
 in answer to my thought. " And yet we manage 
 to make ourselves fairly happy, do we not, Beryl? " 
 
 104 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE 
 
 Quite happy/' said she, but there was no ring 
 of conviction in her words. 
 
 " I had a school," said Stapleton. " It was in the 
 north country. The work to a man of my tempera- 
 ment was mechanical and uninteresting, but the 
 privilege of living with youth, of helping to mould 
 those young minds and of impressing them with 
 one's own character and ideals, was very dear to me. 
 However, the fates were against us. A serious epi- 
 demic broke out in the school and three of the boys 
 died. It never recovered from the blow, and much 
 of my capital was irretrievably swallowed up. And 
 yet, if it were not for the loss of the charming com- 
 panionship of the boys, I could rejoice over my ovfn 
 misfortune, for, with my strong tastes for botany 
 and zoology, I find an unlimited field of work here, 
 and my sister is as devoted to Nature as I am. All 
 this. Dr. Watson, has been brought upon your head 
 by your expression as you surveyed the moor out 
 of our window." 
 
 " It certainly did cross my mind that it might be 
 a little dull — less for you, perhaps, than for your 
 sister." 
 
 " No, no, I am never dull," said she, quickly. 
 
 " We have books, we have our studies, and we 
 have interesting neighbours. Dr. Mortimer is a 
 most learned man in his own line. Poor Sir Charles 
 was also an admirable companion. We knew him 
 well, and miss him more than I can tell. Do you 
 think that I should intrude if I were to call this af- 
 
 105 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 ternoon and make the acquaintance of Sir Hen- 
 ry? " 
 
 " I am sure that he would be delighted/' 
 Then perhaps you would mention that I propose 
 to do so. We may in our humble way do some- 
 thing to make things more easy for him until he 
 becomes accustomed to his new surroundings. Will 
 you come upstairs, Dr. Watson, and inspect my col- 
 lection of lepidoptera? I think it is the most com- 
 plete one in the south-west of England. By the 
 time that you have looked through them lunch will 
 be almost ready.'' 
 
 But I was eager to get back to my charge. The 
 melancholy of the moor, the death of the unfortu- 
 nate pony, the weird sound which had been associ- 
 ated with the grim legend of the Baskervilles, all 
 these things tinged my thoughts with sadness. 
 Then on the top of these more or less vague im- 
 pressions there had come the definite and distinct 
 warning of Miss Stapleton, delivered with such in- 
 tense earnestness that I could not doubt that some 
 grave and deep reason lay behind it. I resisted all 
 pressure to stay for lunch, and I set off at once upon 
 my return journey, taking the grass-grown path by 
 which we had come. 
 
 It seems, however, that there must have been 
 some short cut for those who knew it, for before 
 I had reached the road I was astounded to see 
 Miss Stapleton sitting upon a rock by the side 
 of the track. Her face was beautifully flushed 
 
 io6 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPlT HOUSE 
 
 with her exertions, and she held her hand to her 
 side. 
 
 " I have run all the way in order to cut you off, 
 Dr. Watson,'' said she. I had not even time to 
 put on my hat. I must not stop, or my brother 
 may miss me. I wanted to say to you how sorry 
 I am about the stupid mistake I made in thinking 
 that you were Sir Henry. Please forget the words 
 I said, which have no application whatever to you." 
 
 But I can't forget them, Miss Stapleton," said 
 I. "I am Sir Henry's friend, and his welfare is a 
 very close concern of mine. Tell me why it was 
 that you were so eager that Sir Henry should re- 
 turn to London." 
 
 A woman's whim. Dr. Watson. When you 
 know me better you will understand that I cannot 
 always give reasons for what I say or do." 
 
 No, no. I remember the thrill in your voice. 
 I remember the look in your eyes. Please, 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 which one may sink and with no guide to point 
 the track. Tell me then what it was that you 
 meant, and I will promise to convey your warning 
 to Sir Henry." 
 
 An expression of irresolution passed for an in- 
 stant over her face, but her eyes had hardened 
 again when she answered me. 
 
 107 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " You make too much of it, Dr. Watson," said 
 she. My brother and I were very much shocked 
 by the death of Sir Charles. We knew him very 
 intimately, for his favourite walk was over the moor 
 to our house. He was deeply impressed with the 
 curse which hung over his family, and when this 
 tragedy came I naturally felt that there must be 
 some grounds for the fears which he had expressed. 
 I was distressed therefore when another member of 
 the family came down to live here, and I felt that 
 he should be warned of the danger which he will 
 run. That was all which I intended to convey/' 
 
 But what is the danger? 
 
 You know the story of the hound? " 
 " I do not believe in such nonsense.'' 
 " But I do. If you have any influence with Sir 
 Henry, take him away from a place which has al- 
 ways been fatal to his family. The world is wide. 
 Why should he wish to live at the place of danger? " 
 
 " Because it is the place of danger. That is Sir 
 Henry's nature. I fear that unless you can give 
 me some more definite information than this it 
 would be impossible to get him to move." 
 
 I cannot say anything definite, for I do not 
 know anything definite." 
 
 I would ask you one more question. Miss Sta- 
 pleton. If you meant no more than this when you 
 first spoke to me, why should you not wish your 
 brother to overhear what you said? There is noth- 
 ing to which he, or anyone else, could object." 
 
 1 08 
 
THE STAPLETONS OF MERRIPIT HOUSE 
 
 " My brother is very anxious to have the Hall 
 inhabited, for he thinks that it is for the good of 
 the poor folk upon the moor. He would be very 
 angry if he knew that I had said anything which 
 might induce Sir Henry to go away. But I have 
 done my duty now and I will say no more. I must 
 get back, or he will miss me and suspect that I have 
 seen you. Good-bye! " She turned, and had dis- 
 appeared in a few minutes among the scattered 
 boulders, while I, with my soul full of vague fears, 
 pursued my way to Baskerville Hall. 
 
 109 
 
VIII 
 
 First Report of Dr. Watson 
 
 FROM this point onwards I will follow the 
 course of events by transcribing my own let- 
 ters to Mr. Sherlock Holmes which lie before 
 me on the table. One page is missing, but other- 
 wise they are exactly as written, and show my feel- 
 ings and suspicions of the moment more accurately 
 than my memory, clear as it is upon these tragic 
 events, can possibly do. 
 
 Baskerville Hall, October 13th. 
 My Dear Holmes, — My previous letters and 
 telegrams have kept you pretty well up-to-date as 
 to all that has occurred in this most God-forsaken 
 corner of the world. The longer one stays here the 
 more does the spirit of the moor sink into one's 
 soul, its vastness, and also its grim charm. When 
 you are once out upon its bosom you have left all 
 traces of modern England behind you, but on the 
 other hand you are conscious everywhere of the 
 homes and the work of the prehistoric people. On 
 all sides of you as you walk are the houses of these 
 forgotten folk, with their graves and the huge 
 monoliths which are supposed to have marked their 
 temples. As you look at their grey stone huts 
 
 no 
 
FIRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON 
 
 against the scarred hill-sides you leave your own 
 age behind you, and if you were to see a skin-clad, 
 hairy man crawl out from the low door, fitting a 
 flint-tipped arrow on to the string of his bow, you 
 would feel that his presence there was more natural 
 than your own. The strange thing is that they 
 should have lived so thickly on what must always 
 have been most unfruitful soil. I am no anti- 
 quarian, but I could imagine that they were some 
 unwarlike and harried race who were forced to ac- 
 cept that which none other would occupy. 
 
 All this, however, is foreign to the mission on 
 which you sent me, and will probably be very unin- 
 teresting to your severely practical mind. I can 
 still remember your complete indifference as to 
 whether the sun moved round the earth or the earth 
 round the sun. Let me, therefore, return to the 
 facts concerning Sir Henry Baskerville. 
 
 If you have not had any report within the last 
 few days it is because up to to-day there was noth- 
 ing of importance to relate. Then a very surpris- 
 ing circumstance occurred, which I shall tell you 
 in due course. But, first of all, I must keep you 
 in touch with some of the other factors in the sit- 
 uation. 
 
 One of these, concerning which I have said lit- 
 tle, is the escaped convict upon the moor. There 
 is strong reason now to believe that he has got right 
 away, which is a considerable relief to the lonely 
 householders of this district. A fortnight has 
 
 III 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 passed since his flight, during which he has not 
 been seen and nothing has been heard of him. It 
 is surely inconceivable that he could have held out 
 upon the moor during all that time. Of course, 
 so far as his concealment goes there is no difficulty 
 at all. Any one of these stone huts would give 
 him a hiding-place. But there is nothing to eat 
 unless he were to catch and slaughter one of the 
 moor sheep. We think, therefore, that he has 
 gone, and the outlying farmers sleep the better in 
 consequence. 
 
 We are four able-bodied men in this household, 
 so that we could take good care of ourselves, but 
 I confess that I have had uneasy moments when I 
 have thought of the Stapletons. They live miles 
 from any help. There are one maid, an old man- 
 servant, the sister, and the brother, the latter not 
 a very strong man. They would be helpless in the 
 hands of a desperate fellow like this Notting Hill 
 criminal, if he could once effect an entrance. Both 
 Sir Henry and I were concerned at their situation, 
 and it was suggested that Perkins the groom 
 should go over to sleep there, but Stapleton would 
 not hear of it. 
 
 The fact is that our friend the baronet begins to 
 display a considerable interest in our fair neigh- 
 bour. It is not to be wondered at, for time hangs 
 heavily in this lonely spot to an active man like him, 
 and she is a very fascinating and beautiful woman. 
 There is something tropical and exotic about her 
 
 112 
 
FIRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON 
 
 which forms a singular contrast to her cool and 
 unemotional brother. Yet he also gives the idea 
 of hidden fires. He has certainly a very marked 
 influence over her, for I have seen her continually 
 glance at him as she talked as if seeking approba- 
 tion for what she said. I trust that he is kind to 
 her. There is a dry glitter in his eyes, and a firm 
 set of his thin lips, which goes with a positive and 
 possibly a harsh nature. You would find him an 
 interesting study. 
 
 He came over to call upon Baskerville on that 
 first day, and the very next morning he took us 
 both to show us the spot where the legend of the 
 wicked Hugo is supposed to have had its origin. 
 It was an excursion of some miles across the moor 
 to a place which is so dismal that it might have 
 suggested the story. We found a short valley be- 
 tween rugged tors which led to an open, grassy 
 space flecked over with the white cotton grass. In 
 the middle of it rose two great stones, worn and 
 sharpened at the upper end, until they looked like 
 the huge corroding fangs of some monstrous beast. 
 In every way it corresponded with the scene of the 
 old tragedy. Sir Henry was much interested, and 
 asked Stapleton more than once whether he did 
 really believe in the possibility of the interference 
 of the supernatural in the afifairs of men. He 
 spoke lightly, but it was evident that he was very 
 much in earnest. Stapleton was guarded in his re- 
 plies, but it was easy to see that he said less than 
 
 113 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 he might, and that he would not express his whole 
 opinion out of consideration for the feelings of the 
 baronet. He told us of similar cases, where fam- 
 ilies had suffered from some evil influence, and he 
 left us with the impression that he shared the popu- 
 lar view upon the matter. 
 
 ^ On our way back we stayed for lunch at Merripit 
 House, and it was there that Sir Henry made the 
 acquaintance of Miss Stapleton. From the first 
 moment that he saw her he appeared to be strongly 
 attracted by her, and I am much mistaken if the 
 feeling was not mutual. He referred to her again 
 and again on our walk home, and since then hardly 
 a day has passed that we have not seen something 
 of the brother and sister. They dine here to-night, 
 and there is some talk of our going to them next 
 week. One would imagine that such a match 
 would be very welcome to Stapleton, and yet I have 
 more than once caught a look of the strongest dis- 
 approbation in his face when Sir Henry has been 
 paying some attention to his sister. He is much 
 attached to her, no doubt, and would lead a lonely 
 life without her, but it would seem the height of 
 selfishness if he were to stand in the way of her 
 making so brilliant a marriage. Yet I am certain 
 that he does not wish their intimacy to ripen into 
 love, and I have several times observed that he has 
 taken pains to prevent them from being tete-d-tete. 
 By the way, your instructions to me never to allow 
 Sir Henry to go out alone will become very much 
 
 114 
 
FIRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON 
 
 more onerous if a love affair were to be added to 
 our other difficulties. My popularity would soon 
 suffer if I were to carry out your orders to the 
 letter. 
 
 The other day — Thursday, to be more exact — 
 Dr. Mortimer lunched with us. He has been ex- 
 cavating a barrow at Long Down, and has got a 
 prehistoric skull which fills him with great joy. 
 Never was there such a single-minded enthusiast as 
 he! The Stapletons came in afterwards, and the 
 good doctor took us all to the Yew Alley, at Sir 
 Henry's request, to show us exactly how everything 
 occurred upon that fatal night. It is a long, dismal 
 walk, the Yew Alley, between two high walls of 
 clipped hedge, with a narrow band of grass upon 
 either side. At the far end is an old tumble-down 
 summer-house. Half-way down is the moor-gate, 
 where the old gentleman left his cigar-ash. It is a 
 white wooden gate with a latch. Beyond it lies the 
 wide moor. I remembered your theory of the af- 
 fair and tried to picture all that had occurred. As 
 the old man stood there he saw something coming 
 across the moor, something which terrified him so 
 that he lost his wits, and ran and ran until he died 
 of sheer horror and exhaustion. There was the 
 long, gloomy tunnel down which he fled. And 
 from what? A sheep-dog of the moor? Or a 
 spectral hound, black, silent, and monstrous? Was 
 there a human agency in the matter? Did the pale, 
 watchful Barrymore know more than he cared to 
 
 115 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 say? It was all dim and vague, but always there 
 is the dark shadow of crime behind it. 
 
 One other neighbour I have met since I wrote 
 last. This is Mr. Frankland, of Lafter Hall, who 
 lives some four miles to the south of us. He is an 
 elderly man, red faced, white haired, and choleric. 
 His passion is for the British law, and he has spent 
 a large fortune in litigation. He fights for the mere 
 pleasure of fighting and is equally ready to take up 
 either side of a question, so that it is no wonder 
 that he has found it a costly amusement. Some- 
 times he will shut up a right of way and defy the 
 parish to make him open it. At others he will with 
 his own hands tear down some other man's gate and 
 declare that a path has existed there from time im- 
 memorial, defying the owner to prosecute him for 
 trespass. He is learned in old manorial and com- 
 munal rights, and he applies his knowledge some- 
 times in favour of the villagers of Fernworthy and 
 sometimes against them, so that he is periodically 
 either carried in triumph down the village street or 
 else burned in effigy, according to his latest exploit. 
 He is said to have about seven lawsuits upon his 
 hands at present, which will probably swallow up 
 the remainder of his fortune and so draw his sting 
 and leave him harmless for the future. Apart from 
 the law he seems a kindly, good-natured person, and 
 I only mention him because you were particular 
 that I should send some description of the people 
 who surround us. He is curiously employed at 
 
 ii6 
 
FIRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON 
 
 present, for, being an amateur astronomer, he has 
 an excellent telescope, with which he lies upon the 
 roof of his own house and sweeps the moor all day 
 in the hope of catching a glimpse of the escaped 
 convict. If he would confine his energies to this 
 all would be well, but there are rumours that he 
 intends to prosecute Dr. Mortimer for opening a 
 grave without the consent of the next-of-kin, be- 
 cause he dug up the neolithic skull in the barrow 
 on Long Down. He helps to keep our lives from 
 being monotonous and gives a little comic relief 
 where it is badly needed. 
 
 And now, having brought you up to date in the 
 escaped convict, the Stapletons, Dr. Mortimer, and 
 Frankland, of Lafter Hall, let me end on that which 
 is most important and tell you more about the 
 Barrymores, and especially about the surprising de- 
 velopment of last night. 
 
 First of all about the test telegram, which you 
 sent from London in order to make sure that Barry- 
 more was really here. I have already explained 
 that the testimony of the postmaster shows that the 
 test was worthless and that we have no proof one 
 way or the other. I told Sir Henry how the matter 
 stood, and he at once, in his downright fashion had 
 Barrymore up and asked him whether he had re- 
 ceived the telegram himself. Barrymore said that 
 he had. 
 
 "Did the boy deliver it into your own hands?'* 
 asked Sir Henry. 
 
 117 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Barrymore looked surprised, and considered for 
 a little time. 
 
 " No," said he, I was in the box-room at the 
 time, and my wife brought it up to me.'* 
 Did you answer it yourself? " 
 
 " No ; I told my wife what to answer and she 
 went down to write it." 
 
 In the evening he recurred to the subject of his 
 own accord. 
 
 " I could not quite understand the object of your 
 questions this morning. Sir Henry," said he. I 
 trust that they do not mean that I have done any- 
 thing to forfeit your confidence? " 
 
 Sir Henry had to assure him that it was not so . 
 and pacify him by giving him a considerable part 
 of his old wardrobe, the London outfit having now 
 all arrived. 
 
 Mrs. Barrymore is of interest to me. She is a 
 heavy, solid person, very limited, intensely respect- 
 able, and inclined to be puritanical. You could 
 hardly conceive a less emotional subject. Yet I 
 have told you how, on the first night here, I heard 
 her sobbing bitterly, and since then I have more 
 than once observed traces of tears upon her face. 
 Some deep sorrow gnaws ever at her heart. Some- 
 times I wonder if she has a guilty memory which 
 haunts her, and sometimes I suspect Barrymore of 
 being a domestic tyrant. I have always felt that 
 there was something singular and questionable in 
 this man's character, but the adventure of last night 
 brings all my suspicions to a head. 
 
 ii8 
 
FIRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON 
 
 And yet it may seem a small matter in itself. 
 You are aware that I am not a very sound sleeper, 
 and since I have been on guard in this house my 
 slumbers have been lighter than ever. Last night, 
 about two in the morning, I was aroused by a 
 stealthy step passing my room. I rose, opened my 
 door, and peeped out. A long black shadow was 
 trailing down the corridor. It was thrown by a 
 man who walked softly down the passage with a 
 candle held in his hand. He was in shirt and 
 trousers, with no covering to his feet. I could 
 merely see the outline, but his height told me that 
 it was Barrymore. He walked very slowly and cir- 
 cumspectly, and there was something indescribably 
 guilty and furtive in his whole appearance. 
 
 I have told you that the corridor is broken by the 
 balcony which runs round the hall, but that it is 
 resumed upon the farther side. I waited until he 
 had passed out of sight and then I followed him. 
 When I came round the balcony he had reached 
 the end of the farther corridor, and I could see from 
 the glimmer of light through an open door that 
 he had entered one of the rooms. Now, all these 
 rooms are unfurnished and unoccupied, so that his 
 expedition became more mysterious than ever. 
 The light shone steadily as if he were standing mo- 
 tionless. I crept down the passage as noiselessly 
 as I could and peeped round the corner of the door. 
 
 Barrymore was crouching at the window with 
 the candle held against the glass. His profile was 
 
 119 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 half turned towards me, and his face seemed to be 
 rigid with expectation as he stared out into the 
 blackness of the moor. For some minutes he stood 
 watching intently. Then he gave a deep groan and 
 with an impatient gesture he put out the light. In- 
 stantly I made my way back to my room, and very 
 shortly came the stealthy steps passing once more 
 upon their return journey. Long afterwards when 
 I had fallen into a light sleep I heard a key turn 
 somewhere in a lock, but I could not tell whence 
 the sound came. What it all means I cannot guess, 
 but there is some secret business going on in this 
 house of gloom which sooner or later we shall get 
 to the bottom of. I do not trouble you with my 
 theories, for you asked me to furnish you only with 
 facts. I have had a long talk with Sir Henry this 
 morning, and we have made a plan of campaign 
 founded upon my observations of last night. I will 
 not speak about it just now, but it should make my 
 next report interesting reading. 
 
 120 
 
His face seemed to be rigid with expectation as 'he 
 stared out into the blackness of the moor. 
 
9 
 
 c 
 
 if'* 
 
IX 
 
 [Second Report of Dr. Watson.] 
 
 The Light upon the Moor 
 
 Baskerville Hall, Oct. 15th. 
 
 MY DEAR HOLMES,— If I was com- 
 pelled to leave you without much news 
 during the early days of my mission you 
 must acknowledge that I am making up for lost 
 time, and that events are now crowding thick and 
 fast upon us. In my last report I ended upon my 
 top note with Barrymore at the window, and now 
 I have quite a budget already which will, unless I 
 am much mistaken, considerably surprise you. 
 Things have taken a turn which I could not have 
 anticipated. In some ways they have within the 
 last forty-eight hours become much clearer and in 
 some ways they have become more complicated. 
 But I will tell you all and you shall judge for your- 
 self. 
 
 Before breakfast on the morning following my 
 adventure I went down the corridor and examined 
 the room in which Barrymore had been on the night 
 before. The western window through which he 
 had stared so intently has, I noticed, one peculiarity 
 above all other windows in the house — it commands 
 
 121 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 the nearest outlook on to the moor. There is an 
 opening between two trees which enables one from 
 this point of view to look right down upon it, while 
 from all the other windows it is only a distant 
 glimpse which can be obtained. It follows, there- 
 fore, that Barrymore, since only this window would 
 serve his purpose, must have been looking out for 
 something or somebody upon the moor. The 
 night was very dark, so that I can hardly imagine 
 how he could have hoped to see anyone. It had 
 struck me that it was possible that some love in- 
 trigue was on foot. That would have accounted 
 for his stealthy movements and also for the un- 
 easiness of his wife. The man is a striking-looking 
 fellow, very well equipped to steal the heart of a 
 country girl, so that this theory seemed to have 
 something to support it. That opening of the door 
 which I had heard after I had returned to my room 
 might mean that he had gone out to keep some 
 clandestine appointment. So I reasoned with my- 
 self in the morning, and I tell you the direction of 
 my suspicions, however much the result may have 
 shown that they were unfounded. 
 
 But whatever the true explanation of Barry- 
 more's movements might be, I felt that the respon- 
 sibility of keeping them to myself until I could ex- 
 plain them was more than I could bear. I had an 
 interview with the baronet in his study after break- 
 fast, and I told him all that I had seen. He was less 
 surprised than I had expected. 
 
 122 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 " I knew that Barrymore walked about nights, 
 and I had a mind to speak to him about it/' said he. 
 " Two or three times I have heard his steps in the 
 passage, coming and going, just about the hour you 
 name." 
 
 " Perhaps then he pays a visit every night to that 
 particular window," I suggested. 
 
 " Perhaps he does. If so, we should be able to 
 shadow him, and see what it is that he is after. I 
 wonder what your friend Holmes would do, if he 
 were here." 
 
 " I believe that he would do exactly what you 
 now suggest," said I. " He would follow Barry- 
 more and see what he did." 
 
 " Then we shall do it together." 
 
 " But surely he would hear us." 
 
 " The man is rather deaf, and in any case we must 
 take our chance of that. We'll sit up in my room 
 to-night, and wait until he passes." Sir Henry 
 rubbed his hands with pleasure, and it was evident 
 that he hailed the adventure as a relief to his some- ^ 
 what quiet life upon the moor. 
 
 The baronet has been in communication with the 
 architect who prepared the plans for Sir Charles, 
 and with a contractor from London, so that we may 
 expect great changes to begin here soon. There 
 have been decorators and furnishers up from 
 Plymouth, and it is evident that our friend has large 
 ideas, and means to spare no pains or expense to 
 restore the grandeur of his family. When the 
 
 123 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 house is renovated and refurnished, all that he will 
 need will be a wife to make it complete. Between 
 ourselves there are pretty clear signs that this will 
 not be wanting if the lady is willing, for I have sel- 
 dom seen a man more infatuated with a woman 
 than he is with our beautiful neighbour, Miss Sta- 
 pleton. And yet the course of true love does not 
 run quite as smoothly as one would under the cir- 
 cumstances expect. To-day, for example, its sur- 
 face was broken by a very unexpected ripple, which 
 has caused our friend considerable perplexity and 
 annoyance. 
 
 After the conversation which I have quoted about 
 Barrymore Sir Henry put on his hat and prepared 
 to go out. As a matter of course I did the same. 
 
 What, are you coming, Watson? he asked, 
 looking at me in a curious way. 
 
 " That depends on whether you are going on the 
 moor," said 1. 
 
 "Yes, lam." 
 
 " Well, you know what my instructions are. I 
 am sorry to intrude, but you heard how earnestly 
 Holmes insisted that I should not leave you, and 
 especially that you should not go alone upon the 
 moor." 
 
 Sir Henry put his hand upon my shoulder, with 
 a pleasant smile. 
 
 My dear fellow," said he, " Holmes, with all his 
 wisdom, did not foresee some things which have 
 happened since I have been on the moor. You un- 
 
 124 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 derstand me? I am sure that you are the last man 
 in the world who would wish to be a spoil-sport. I 
 must go out alone." 
 
 It put me in a most awkward position. I was at 
 a loss what to say or what to do, and before I had 
 made up my mind he picked up his cane and was 
 gone. 
 
 But when I came to think the matter over my 
 conscience reproached me bitterly for having on 
 any pretext allowed him to go out of my sight. I 
 imagined what my feelings would be if I had to 
 return to you and to confess that some misfortune 
 had occurred through my disregard for your in- 
 structions. I assure you my cheeks flushed at the 
 very thought. It might not even now be too late 
 to overtake him, so I set off at once in the direction 
 of Merripit House. 
 
 I hurried along the road at the top of my speed 
 without seeing anything of Sir Henry, until I came 
 to the point where the moor path branches oflf. 
 There, fearing that perhaps I had come in the 
 wrong direction after all, I mounted a hill from 
 which I could command a view — the same hill 
 which is cut into the dark quarry. Thence I saw 
 him at once. He was on the moor path, about a 
 quarter of a mile off, and a lady was by his side 
 who could only be Miss Stapleton. It was clear 
 that there was already an understanding between 
 them and that they had met by appointment. They 
 were walking slowly along in deep conversation, 
 
 125 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 and I saw her making quick little movements of her 
 hands as if she were very earnest in what she was 
 saying, while he listened intently, and once or twice 
 shook his head in strong dissent. I stood among 
 the rocks watching them, very much puzzled as to 
 what I should do next. To follow them and break 
 into their intimate conversation seemed to be an 
 outrage, and yet my clear duty was never for an in- 
 stant to let him out of my sight. To act the spy 
 upon a friend was a hateful task. Still, I could see 
 no better course than to observe him from the hill, 
 and to clear my conscience by confessing to him 
 afterwards what I had done. It is true that if any 
 sudden danger had threatened him I was too far 
 away to be of use, and yet I am sure that you will 
 agree with me that the position was very diffi- 
 cult, and that there was nothing more which I 
 could do. 
 
 Our friend. Sir Henry, and the lady had halted 
 on the path and were standing deeply absorbed in 
 their conversation, when I was suddenly aware that 
 I was not the only witness of their interview. A 
 wisp of green floating in the air caught my eye, and 
 another glance showed me that it was carried on a 
 stick by a man who was moving among the broken 
 ground. It was Stapleton with his butterfly-net. 
 He was very much closer to the pair than I was, 
 and he appeared to be moving in their direction. 
 At this instant Sir Henry suddenly drew Miss Sta- 
 pleton to his side. His arm was round her, but it 
 
 126 ^ 
 
r 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 seemed to me that she was straining away from him 
 with her face averted. He stooped his head to hers, 
 and she raised one hand as if in protest. Next mo- 
 ment I saw them spring apart and turn hurriedly 
 round. Stapleton was the cause of the interrup- 
 tion. He was running wildly towards them, his 
 absurd net dangling behind him. He gesticulated 
 and almost danced with excitement in front of the 
 lovers. What the scene meant I could not im- 
 agine, but it seemed to me that Stapleton was abus- 
 ing Sir Henry, who offered explanations, which 
 became more angry as the other refused to accept 
 them. The lady stood by in haughty silence. 
 Finally Stapleton turned upon his heel and beck- 
 oned in a peremptory way to his sister, who, after 
 an irresolute glance at Sir Henry, walked off by the 
 side of her brother. The naturalist's angry gestures 
 showed that the lady was included in his displeas- 
 ure. The baronet stood for a minute looking after 
 them, and then he walked slowly back the way that 
 he had come, his head hanging, the very picture of 
 dejection. 
 
 What all this meant I could not imagine, but I 
 was deeply ashamed to have witnessed so intimate 
 a scene without my friend's knowledge. I ran 
 down the hill therefore and met the baronet at the 
 bottom. His face was flushed with anger and his 
 brows were wrinkled, like one who is at his wits' 
 ends what to do. 
 
 ''Halloa, Watson! Where have you dropped 
 
 127 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 from? " said he. You don't mean to say that you 
 came after me in spite of all? 
 
 I explained everything to him: how I had found 
 it impossible to remain behind, how I had followed 
 him, and how I had witnessed all that had occurred. 
 For an instant his eyes blazed at me, but my f rank- 
 - ness disarmed his anger, and he broke at last into a 
 rather rueful laugh. 
 
 " You would have thought the middle of that 
 prairie a fairly safe place for a man to be private," 
 said he, but, by thunder, the whole country-side 
 seems to have been out to see me do my wooing— 
 and a mighty poor wooing at that! Where had 
 you engaged a seat? 
 
 " I was on that hill.'' 
 
 " Quite in the back row, eh? But her brother 
 was well up to the front. Did you see him come 
 out on us? " 
 
 "Yes, I did." 
 
 " Did he ever strike you as being crazy — this 
 brother of hers? " 
 
 I can't say that he ever did." 
 
 " I daresay not. I always thought him sane 
 enough until to-day, but you can take it from me 
 that either he or I ought to be in a strait- jacket. 
 What's the matter with me, anyhow? You've 
 lived near me for some weeks, Watson. Tell me 
 straight, now! Is there anything that would pre- 
 vent me from making a good husband to a woman 
 that I loved?" 
 
 X28 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 " I should say not." 
 
 *^ He can't object to my worldly position, so it 
 must be myself that he has this down on. What 
 has he against me? I never hurt man or woman 
 in my life that I know of. And yet he would not 
 so much as let me touch the tips of her fingers." 
 
 "Did he say so?" 
 That, and a deal more. I tell you, Watson, 
 I've only known her these few weeks, but from the 
 first I just felt that she was made for me, and she, 
 too — she was happy when she was with me, and 
 that ril swear. There's a light in a woman's eyes 
 that speaks louder than words. But he has never 
 let us get together, and it was only to-day for the 
 first time that I saw a chance of having a few words 
 with her alone. She was glad to meet me, but 
 when she did, it was not love that she would talk 
 about, and she wouldn't have let me talk about it 
 either if she could have stopped it. She kept com- 
 ing back to it that this was a place of danger, and 
 that she would never be happy until I had left it. 
 I told her that since I had seen her I was in no 
 hurry to leave it, and that if she really wanted me 
 to go the only way to work it was for her to arrange 
 to go with me. With that I offered in as many 
 words to marry her, but before she could answer 
 down came this brother of hers, running at us with 
 a face on him like a madman. He was just white 
 with rage, and those light eyes of his were blazing 
 with fury. What was I doing with the lady? How 
 
 129 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 dared I of¥er her attentions which were distasteful 
 to her? Did I think that because I was a baronet 
 I could do what I liked? If he had not been her 
 brother I should have known better how to answer 
 him. As it was I told him that my feelings tow- 
 ards his sister were such as I was not ashamed of, 
 and that I hoped that she might honour me by be- 
 coming my wife. That seemed to make the mat- 
 ter no better, so then I lost my temper too, and I 
 answered him rather more hotly than I should per- 
 haps, considering that she was standing by. So it 
 ended by his going off with her, as you saw, and 
 here am I as badly puzzled a man as any in this 
 county. Just tell me what it all means, Watson, 
 and ril owe you more than ever I can hope to pay." 
 
 I tried one or two explanations, but, indeed, I 
 was completely puzzled myself. Our friend's title, 
 his fortune, his age, his character, and his appear- 
 ance are all in his favour, and I know nothing 
 against him, unless it be this dark fate which runs 
 in his family. That his advances should be rejected 
 so brusquely without any reference to the lady's 
 own wishes, and that the lady should accept the 
 situation without protest is very amazing. How- 
 ever, our conjectures were set at rest by a visit from 
 Stapleton himself that very afternoon. He had 
 come to ofifer apologies for his rudeness of the 
 morning, and after a long private interview with Sir 
 Henry in his study, the upshot of their conversation 
 was that the breach is quite healed, and that we are 
 
 130 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 to dine at Merripit House next Friday as a sign 
 of it. 
 
 I don't say now that he isn't a crazy man," said 
 Sir Henry; I can't forget the look in hi^ eyes when 
 he ran at me this morning, but I must allow that 
 no man could make a more handsome apology than 
 he has done." 
 
 " Did he give any explanation of his conduct? " 
 
 " His sister is everything in his Hfe, he says. 
 That is natural enough, and I am glad that he 
 should understand her value. They have always 
 been together, and according to his account he has 
 been a very lonely man with only her as a com- 
 panion, so that the thought of losing her was really 
 terrible to him. He had not understood, he said, 
 that I was becoming attached to her, but when he 
 saw with his own eyes that it was really so, and that 
 she might be taken away from him, it gave him 
 such a shock that for a time he was not responsible 
 for what he said or did. He was very sorry for all 
 that had passed, and he recognised how foolish and 
 how selfish it was that he should imagine that he 
 could hold a beautiful woman like his sister to him- 
 self for her whole life. If she had to leave him he 
 had rather it was to a neighbour like myself than to 
 anyone else. But in any case it was a blow to him, 
 and it would take him some time before he could 
 prepare himself to meet it. He would withdraw all 
 opposition upon his part if I would promise for 
 three months to let the matter rest and to be con- 
 
 131 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 tent with cultivating the lady's friendship during 
 that time without claiming her love. This I prom- 
 ised, and so the matter rests." 
 
 So there is one of our small mysteries cleared up. 
 It is something to have touched bottom anywhere 
 in this bog in which we are floundering. We know 
 now why Stapleton looked with disfavour upon his 
 sister's suitor — even when that suitor was so eli- 
 gible a one as Sir Henry. And now I pass on to 
 another thread which I have extricated out of the 
 tangled skein, the mystery of the sobs in the night, 
 of the tear-stained face of Mrs. Barrymore, of the 
 secret journey of the butler to the western lattice 
 window. Congratulate me, my dear Holmes, and 
 tell me that I have not disappointed you as an agent 
 — that you do not regret the confidence which you 
 showed in me when you sent me down. All these 
 things have by one night's work been thoroughly 
 cleared. 
 
 I have said " by one night's work," but, in truth, 
 it was by two nights' work, for on the first we drew 
 ertirely blank. I sat up with Sir Henry in his room 
 until nearly three o'clock in the morning, but no 
 sound of any sort did we hear except the chiming 
 clock upon the stairs. It was a most melancholy 
 vigil, and ended by each of us falling asleep in our 
 chairs. Fortunately we were not discouraged, and 
 we determined to try again. The next night we 
 lowered the lamp, and sat smoking cigarettes, with- 
 out making the least sound. It was incredible how 
 
 132 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 slowly the hours crawled by, and yet we were helped 
 through it by the same sort of patient interest which 
 the hunter must feel as he watches the trap into 
 which he hopes the game may wander. One 
 struck, and two, and we had almost for the sec- 
 ond time given it up in despair, when in an in- 
 stant we both sat bolt upright in our chairs, with 
 all our weary senses keenly on the alert once 
 more. We had heard the creak of a step in the 
 passage. 
 
 Very stealthily we heard it pass along until it died 
 away in the distance. Then the baronet gently 
 opened his door and we set out in pursuit. Already 
 our man had gone round the gallery, and the cor- 
 ridor was all in darkness. Softly we stole along 
 until we had come into the other wing. We were 
 just in time to catch a glimpse of the tall, black- 
 bearded figure, his shoulders rounded, as he tip-toed 
 down the passage. Then he passed through the 
 same door as before, and the light of the candle 
 framed it in the darkness and shot one single yellow 
 beam across the gloom of the corridor. We shuf- 
 fled cautiously towards it, trying every plank before 
 we dared to put our whole weight upon it. We 
 had taken the precaution of leaving our boots be- 
 hind us, but, even so, the old boards snapped and 
 creaked beneath our tread. Sometimes it seemed 
 impossible that he should fail to hear our approach. 
 However, the man is fortunately rather deaf, and 
 he was entirely preoccupied in that which he was 
 
 133 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 doing. When at last we reached the door and 
 peeped through we found him crouching at the win- 
 dow, candle in hand, his white, intent face pressed 
 against the pane, exactly as I had seen him two 
 nights before. 
 
 We had arranged no plan of campaign, but the 
 baronet is a man to whom the most direct way is 
 always the most natural. He walked into the 
 room, and as he did so Barrymore sprang up from 
 the window with a sharp hiss of his breath, and 
 stood, livid and trembling, before us. His dark 
 eyes, glaring out of the white mask of his face, were 
 full of horror and astonishment as he gazed from 
 Sir Henry to me. 
 
 What are you doing here, Barrymore? " . 
 
 " Nothing, sir.'' His agitation was so great that 
 he could hardly speak, and the shadows sprang up 
 and down from the shaking of his candle. It was 
 the window, sir. I go round at night to see that 
 they are fastened.'' 
 
 " On the second floor? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, all the windows.*' 
 Look here, Barrymore," said Sir Henry, stern- 
 ly; " we have made up our minds to have the truth 
 out of you, so it will save you trouble to tell it 
 sooner rather than later. Come, now! No lies! 
 What were you doing at that window? " 
 
 The fellow looked at us in a helpless way, and he 
 wrung his hands together like one who is in the last 
 extremity of doubt and misery. 
 
 134 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 " I was doing no harm, sir. I was holding a 
 candle to the window." 
 
 And why were you holding a candle to the win- 
 dow?" 
 
 Don't ask me, Sir Henry — don't ask me! I 
 give you my word, sir, that it is n6t my secret, and 
 that I cannot tell it. If it concerned no one but 
 myself I would not try to keep it from you." 
 
 A sudden idea occurred to me, and I took the 
 candle from the trembling hand of the butler. 
 
 He must have been holding it as a signal," said 
 I. " Let us see if there is any answer." I held it 
 as he had done, and stared out into the darkness of 
 the night. Vaguely I could discern the black bank 
 of the trees and the lighter expanse of the moor, 
 for the moon was behind the clouds. And then I 
 gave a cry of exultation, for a tiny pin-point of yel- 
 low light had suddenly transfixed the dark veil, and 
 glowed steadily in the centre of the black square 
 framed by the window. 
 " There it is ! " I cried. 
 
 No, no, sir, it is nothing — nothing at all! " the 
 butler broke in; ''I assure you, sir— " 
 
 Move your light across the window, Watson ! " 
 cried the baronet. See, the other moves also! 
 Now, you rascal, do you deny that it is a signal? 
 Come, speak up! Who is your confederate out 
 yonder, and what is this conspiracy that is going 
 on?" 
 
 The man's face became openly defiant. 
 
 135 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " It is my business, and not yours. I will not 
 tell." 
 
 " Then you leave my employment right away." 
 " Very good, sir. If I must I must.'' 
 " And you go in disgrace. By thunder, you may 
 well be ashamed of yourself. Your family has lived 
 with mine for over a hundred years under this roof, 
 and here I find you deep in some dark plot against 
 me. 
 
 "No, no, sir; no, not against you!'' It was a 
 woman's voice, and Mrs. Barrymore, paler and 
 more horrorstruck than her husband, was standing 
 at the door. Her bulky figure in a shawl and skirt 
 might have been comic were it not for the intensity 
 of feeling upon her face. 
 
 We have to go, Eliza. This is the end of it. 
 You can pack our things," said the butler. 
 
 Oh, John, John, have I brought you to this? 
 It is my doing. Sir Henry — all mine. He has done 
 nothing except for my sake, and because I asked 
 him." 
 
 Speak out, then! What does it mean? " 
 My unhappy brother is starving on the moor. 
 We cannot let him perish at our very gates. The 
 light is a signal to him that food is ready for him, 
 and his light out yonder is to show the spot to which 
 to bring it." 
 
 " Then your brother is " 
 
 " The escaped convict, sir — Selden, the criminal." 
 " That's the truth, sir," said Barrymore. " I said 
 
 136 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 that it was not my secret and that I could not tell 
 it to you. But now you have heard it, and you will 
 see that if there was a plot it was not against you." 
 
 This, then, was the explanation of the stealthy 
 expeditions at night and the light at the window. 
 Sir Henry and I both stared at the woman in amaze- 
 ment. Was it possible that this stolidly respectable 
 person was of the same blood as one of the most 
 notorious criminals in the country? 
 
 " Yes, sir, my name was Selden, and he is my 
 younger brother. We humoured him too much 
 when he was a lad, and gave him his own way in 
 everything until he came to think that the world 
 was made for his pleasure, and that he could do 
 what he liked in it. Then, as he grew older, he met 
 wicked companions, and the devil entered into him 
 until he broke my mother's heart and dragged our 
 name in the dirt. From crime to crime he sank 
 lower and lower, until it is only the mercy of God 
 which has snatched him from the scaffold; but to 
 me, sir, he was always the little curly-headed boy 
 that I had nursed and played with, as an elder sister 
 would. That was why he broke prison, sir. He 
 knew that I was here and that we could not refuse 
 to help him. When he dragged himself here one 
 night, weary and starving, with the warders hard 
 at his heels, what could we do? We took him in 
 and fed him and cared for him. Then you returned, 
 sir, and my brother thought he would be safer on 
 the moor than anywhere else until the hue and cry 
 
 137 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 was over, so he lay in hiding there. But every sec- 
 ond night we made sure if he was still there by put- 
 ting a light in the window, and if there was an 
 answer my husband took out some bread and meat 
 to him. Every day we hoped that he was gone, 
 but as long as he was there we could not desert him. 
 That is the whole truth, as I am an honest Christian 
 woman, and you will see that if there is blame in 
 the matter it does not lie with my husband, but 
 with me, for whose sake he has done all that he 
 has.'' 
 
 The woman's words came with an intense ear- 
 nestness which carried conviction with them. 
 Is this true, Barrymore? " 
 
 " Yes, Sir Henry. Every word of it." 
 
 " Well, I cannot blame you for standing by your 
 own wife. Forget what I have said. Go to your 
 room, you two, and we shall talk further about this 
 matter in the morning." 
 
 When they were gone we looked out of the win- 
 dow again. Sir Henry had flung it open, and the 
 cold night wind beat in upon our faces. Far away 
 in the black distance there still glowed that one tiny 
 point of yellow light. 
 
 " I wonder he dares," said Sir Henry. 
 
 " It may be so placed as to be only visible from 
 here." 
 
 " Very likely. How far do you think it is? " 
 
 Out by the Cleft Tor, I think." 
 " Not more than a mile or two off." 
 
 138 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 " Hardly that." 
 
 " Well, it cannot be far if Barrymore had to carry 
 out the food to it. And he is waiting, this villain, 
 beside that candle. By thunder, Watson, I am go- 
 ing out to take that man! " 
 
 The same thought had crossed my own mind. It 
 was not as if the Barrymores had taken us into their 
 confidence. Their secret had been forced from 
 them. The man was a danger to the community, 
 an unmitigated scoundrel for whom there was nei- 
 ther pity nor excuse. We were only doing our 
 duty in taking this chance of putting him back 
 where he could do no harm. With his brutal and 
 violent nature, others would have to pay the price 
 if we held our hands. Any night, for example, our 
 neighbours the Stapletons might be attacked by 
 him, and it may have been the thought of this which 
 made Sir Henry so keen upon the adventure. 
 
 " I will come,'' said 1. 
 
 " Then get your revolver and put on your boots. 
 The sooner we start the better, as the fellow may 
 put out his light and be off." 
 
 In five minutes we were outside the door, start- 
 ing upon our expedition. We hurried through the 
 dark shrubbery, amid the dull moaning of the 
 autumn wind and the rustle of the falling leaves. 
 The night air was heavy with the smell of damp and 
 decay. Now and again the moon peeped out for 
 an instant, but clouds were driving over the face 
 of the sky, and just as we came out on the moor a 
 
 139 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 thin rain began to fall. The light still burned 
 steadily in front. 
 
 Are you armed? " I asked. 
 
 I have a hunting-crop.'' 
 
 We must close in on him rapidly, for he is said 
 to be a desperate fellow. We shall take him by sur- 
 prise and have him at our mercy before he can 
 resist.'' 
 
 " I say, Watson," said the baronet, " what would 
 Holmes say to this? How about that hour of dark- 
 ness in which the power of evil is exalted? " 
 
 As if in answer to his words there rose suddenly 
 out of the vast gloom of the moor that strange cry 
 which I had already heard upon the borders of the 
 great Grimpen Mire. It came with the wind 
 through the silence of the night, a long, deep mut- 
 ter, then a rising howl, and then the sad moan in 
 which it died away. Again and again it sounded, 
 the whole air throbbing with it, strident, wild, and 
 menacing. The baronet caught my sleeve and his 
 face glimmered white through the darkness. 
 
 " My God, what's that, Watson? " 
 I don't know. It's a sound they have on the 
 moor. I heard it once before." 
 
 It died away, and an absolute silence closed in 
 upon us. We stood straining our ears, but nothing 
 came. 
 
 Watson," said the baronet, " it was the cry of 
 a hound." 
 
 My blood ran cold in my veins, for there was a 
 
 140 
 
 f 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 break in his voice which told of the sudden horror 
 which had seized him. 
 
 What do they call this sound? " he asked. 
 
 Who? " 
 
 " The folk on the country-side? " 
 " Oh, they are ignorant people. Why should 
 you mind what they call it? " 
 
 Tell me, Watson. What do they say of it? " 
 I hesitated, but could not escape the question. 
 " They say it is the cry of the Hound of the 
 Baskervilles.'' 
 
 He groaned, and was silent for a few moments. 
 " A hound it was," he said, at last, but it seemed 
 to come from miles away, over yonder, I think.'* 
 It was hard to say whence it came.'' 
 It rose and fell with the wind. Isn't that the 
 direction of the great Grimpen Mire? " 
 " Yes, it is." 
 Well, it was up there. Come now, Watson, 
 didn't you think yourself that it was the cry of a 
 hound? I am not a child. You need not fear to 
 speak the truth." 
 
 Stapleton was with me when I heard it last. 
 He said that it might be the calling of a strange 
 bird." 
 
 No, no, it was a hound. My God, can there be 
 some truth in all these stories? Is it possible that 
 I am really in danger from so dark a cause? You 
 don't believe it, do you, Watson? " 
 "No, no." 
 
 141 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " And yet it was one thing to laugh about it in 
 London, and it is another to stand out here in the 
 darkness of the moor and to hear such a cry as that. 
 And my uncle! There was the footprint of the 
 hound beside him as he lay. It all fits together. 
 I don't think that I am a coward, Watson, but that 
 sound seemed to freeze my very blood. Feel my 
 hand!" 
 
 It was as cold as a block of marble. 
 You'll be all right to-morrow." 
 
 " I don't think Til get that cry out of my head. 
 What do you advise that we do now? " 
 Shall we turn back? " 
 
 " No, by thunder; we have come out to get our 
 man, and we will do it. We after the convict, and 
 a hell-hound, as likely as not, after us. Come on! 
 We'll see it through if all the fiends of the pit were 
 loose upon the moor." 
 
 We stumbled slowly along in the darkness, with 
 the black loom of the craggy hills around us, and 
 the yellow speck of light burning steadily in front. 
 There is nothing so deceptive as the distance of a 
 light upon a pitch-dark night, and sometimes the 
 glimmer seemed to be far away upon the horizon 
 and sometimes it might have been within a few 
 yards of us. But at last we could see whence it 
 came, and then we knew that we were indeed very 
 close. A guttering candle was stuck in a crevice of 
 the rocks which flanked it on each side so as to 
 keep the wind from it, and also to prevent it from 
 
 142 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 being visible, save in the direction of Baskerville 
 Hall. A boulder of granite concealed our ap- 
 proach, and crouching behind it we gazed over it 
 at the signal light. It was strange to see this single 
 candle burning there in the middle of the moor, 
 with no sign of life near it — ^just the one straight 
 yellow flame and the gleam of the rock on each side 
 of it. 
 
 " What shall we do now? " whispered Sir Henry. 
 
 " Wait here. He must be near his light. Let 
 us see if we can get a glimpse of him.'' 
 
 The words were hardly out of my mouth when 
 we both saw him. Over the rocks, in the crevice 
 of which the candle burned, there was thrust out an 
 evil yellow face, a terrible animal face, all seamed 
 and scored with vile passions. Foul with mire, 
 with a bristling beard, and hung with matted hair, 
 it might well have belonged to one of those old 
 savages who dwelt in the burrows on the hillsides. 
 The light beneath him was reflected in his small, 
 cunning eyes which peered fiercely to right and left 
 through the darkness, like a crafty and savage ani- 
 mal who has heard the steps of the hunters. 
 
 Something had evidently aroused his suspicions. 
 It may have been that Barrymore had some private 
 signal which we had neglected to give, or the fellow 
 may have had some other reason for thinking that 
 all was not well, but I could read his fears upon his 
 wicked face. Any instant he might dash out the 
 light and vanish in the darkness. I sprang forward 
 
 143 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 therefore, and Sir Henry did the same. At the 
 same moment the convict screamed out a curse at 
 us and hurled a rock which splintered up against 
 the boulder which had sheltered us. I caught one 
 glimpse of his short, squat, strongly-built figure as 
 he sprang to his feet and turned to run. At the 
 same moment by a lucky chance the moon broke 
 through the clouds. We rushed over the brow of 
 the hill, and there was our man running with great 
 speed down the other side, springing over the stones 
 in his way with the activity of a mountain goat. A 
 lucky long shot of my revolver might have crippled 
 him, but I had brought it only to defend myself if 
 attacked, and not to shoot an unarmed man who 
 was running away. 
 
 We were both swift runners and in fairly good 
 training, but we soon found that we had no chance 
 of overtaking him. We saw him for a long time 
 in the moonlight until he was only a small speck 
 moving swiftly among the boulders upon the side 
 of a distant hill. We ran and ran until we were 
 completely blown, but the space between us grew 
 ever wider. Finally we stopped and sat panting on 
 two rocks, while we watched him disappearing in 
 the distance. 
 
 And it was at this moment that there occurred a 
 most strange and unexpected thing. We had risen 
 from our rocks and were turning to go home, hav- 
 ing abandoned the hopeless chase. The moon was 
 low upon the right, and the jagged pinnacle of a 
 
 144 
 
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR 
 
 granite tor stood up against the lower curve of its 
 silver disc. There, outlined as black as an ebony 
 statue on that shining back-ground, I saw the fig- 
 ure of a man upon the tor. Do not think that it 
 was a delusion, Holmes. I assure you that I have 
 never in my life seen anything more clearly. As 
 far as I could judge, the figure was that of a tall, 
 thin man. He stood with his legs a little separated, 
 his arms folded, his head bowed, as if he were brood- 
 ing over that enormous wilderness of peat and 
 granite which lay before him. He might have been 
 the very spirit of that terrible place. It was not the 
 convict. This man was far from the place where 
 the latter had disappeared. Besides, he was a much 
 taller man. With a cry of surprise I pointed him 
 out to the baronet, but in the instant during which 
 I had turned to grasp his arm the man was gone. 
 There was the sharp pinnacle of granite still cut- 
 ting the lower edge of the moon, but its peak bore 
 no trace of that silent and motionless figure. 
 
 I wished to go in that direction and to search the 
 tor, but it was some distance away. The baronet's 
 nerves were still quivering from that cry, which re- 
 called the dark story of his family, and he was not 
 in the mood for fresh adventures. He had not seen 
 this lonely man upon the tor and could not feel the 
 thrill which his strange presence and his command- 
 ing attitude had given to me. ''A warder, no 
 doubt," said he. The moor has been thick with 
 them since this fellow escaped." Well, perhaps his 
 
 H5 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 explanation may be the right one, but I should like 
 to have some further proof of it. To-day we mean 
 to communicate to the Princetown people where 
 they should look for their missing man, but it is 
 hard lines that we have not actually had the tri- 
 umph of bringing him back as our own prisoner. 
 Such are the adventures of last night, and you must 
 acknowledge, my dear Holmes, that I have done 
 you very well in the matter of a report. Much of 
 what I tell you is no doubt quite irrelevant, but still 
 I feel that it is best that I should let you have all 
 the facts and leave you to select for yourself those 
 which will be of most service to you in helping you 
 to your conclusions. We are certainly making 
 some progress. So far as the Barrymores go we 
 have found the motive of their actions, and that has 
 cleared up the situation very much. But the moor 
 with its mysteries and its strange inhabitants re- 
 mains as inscrutable as ever. Perhaps in my next 
 I may be able to throw some light upon this also. 
 Best of all would it be if you could come down to 
 us. In any case you will hear from me again in 
 the course of the next few days. 
 
 146 
 
X 
 
 Extract from the Diary of Dr. Watson 
 
 SO far I have been able to quote from the re- 
 ports which I have forwarded during these 
 early days to Sherlock Holmes. Now, how- 
 ever, I have arrived at a point in my narrative where 
 I am compelled to abandon this method and to 
 trust once more to my recollections, aided by the 
 diary which I kept at the time. A few extracts 
 from the latter will carry me on to those scenes 
 which are indelibly fixed in every detail upon my 
 memory. I proceed, then, from the morning which 
 followed our abortive chase of the convict and our 
 other strange experiences upon the moor. 
 
 October i6th. — A dull and foggy day with a driz- 
 zle of rain. The house is banked in with rolling 
 clouds, which rise now and then to show the dreary 
 curves of the moor, with thin, silver veins upon the 
 sides of the hills, and the distant boulders gleaming 
 where the light strikes upon their wet faces. It is 
 melancholy outside and in. The baronet is in a 
 black reaction after the excitements of the night. 
 I am conscious myself of a weight at my heart and 
 a feeling of impending danger — ever present dan- 
 ger, which is the more terrible because I am unable 
 to define it. 
 
 147 
 
THE HOUND OF T H E B A S K E R V I L L E S 
 
 And have I not cause for such a feeling? Con- 
 sider the long sequence of incidents which have all 
 pointed to some sinister influence which is at work 
 around us. There is the death of the last occupant 
 of the Hall, fulfilling so exactly the conditions of the 
 family legend, and there are the repeated reports 
 from peasants of the appearance of a strange creat- 
 ure upon the moor. Twice I have with my own 
 ears heard the sound which resembled the distant 
 baying of a hound. It is incredible, impossible, 
 that it should really be outside the ordinary laws of 
 nature. A spectral hound which leaves material 
 footmarks and fills the air with its howling is surely 
 not to be thought of. Stapleton may fall in with 
 such a superstition, and Mortimer also; but if I 
 have one quality upon earth it is common-sense, 
 and nothing will persuade me to believe in such a 
 thing. To do so would be to descend to the level 
 of these poor peasants, who are not content with a 
 mere fiend dog, but must needs describe him with 
 hell-fire shooting from his mouth and eyes. 
 Holmes would not listen to such fancies, and I am 
 his agent. But facts are facts, and I have twice 
 heard this crying upon the moor. Suppose that 
 there were really some huge hound loose upon it; 
 that would go far to explain everything. But 
 where could such a hound lie concealed, where did 
 it get its food, where did it come from, how was it 
 that no one saw it by day? It must be confessed 
 that the natural explanation oflfers almost as many 
 
 • 148 
 
His face seemed to be rigi'd with expectation 2^ he 
 stared out into the blackness of the moor. 
 
J 
 
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON 
 
 difficulties as the other. And always, apart from 
 the hound, there is the fact of the human agency 
 in London, the man in the cab, and the letter which 
 warned Sir Henry against the moor. This at least 
 was real, but it might have been the work of a pro- 
 tecting friend as easily as of an enemy. Where is 
 that friend or enemy now? Has he remained in 
 London, or has he followed us down here? Could 
 he — could he be the stranger whom I saw upon 
 
 the Tor? 
 
 It is true that I have had only the one glance at 
 him, and yet there are some things to which I am 
 ready to swear. He is no one whom I have seen 
 down here, and I have now met all the neighbours. 
 The figure was far taller than that of Stapleton, far 
 thinner than that of Frankland. Barrymore it 
 might possibly have been, but we had left him be- 
 hind us, and I am certain that he could not have 
 followed us. A stranger then is still dogging us, 
 just as a stranger dogged us in London. We 
 have never shaken him off. If I could lay my 
 hands upon that man, then at last we might 
 find ourselves at the end of all our difficulties. 
 To this one purpose I must now devote all my 
 energies. 
 
 My first impulse was to tell Sir Henry all my 
 plans. My second and wisest one is to play my 
 own game and speak as little as possible to anyone. 
 He is silent and distrait. His nerves have been 
 strangely shaken by that sound upon the moor. I 
 
 149 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 will say nothing to add to his anxieties, but I will 
 take my own steps to attain my own end. 
 
 We had a small scene this morning after break- 
 fast. Barrymore asked leave to speak with Sir 
 Henry, and they were closeted in his study some 
 little time. Sitting in the billiard-room I more than 
 once heard the sound of voices raised, and I had a 
 pretty good idea what the point was which was un- 
 der discussion. After a time the baronet opened 
 his door and called for me. 
 
 " Barrymore considers that he has a grievance," 
 he said. " He thinks that it was unfair on our part 
 to hunt his brother-in-law down when he, of his own 
 free will, had told us the secret.'' 
 
 The butler was standing very pale but very col- 
 lected before us. 
 
 I may have spoken too warmly, sir," said he, 
 " and if I have I am sure that I beg your pardon. 
 At the same time, I was very much surprised when 
 I heard you two gentlemen come back this morn- 
 ing and learned that you had been chasing Selden. 
 The poor fellow has enough to fight against without 
 my putting more upon his track." 
 
 " If you had told us of your own free will it would 
 have been a different thing," said the baronet, " you 
 only told us, or rather your wife only told us, when 
 it was forced from you and you could not help your- 
 self." 
 
 " I didn't think you would have taken advantage 
 of it, Sir Henry — indeed I didn't." 
 
 ISO 
 
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON 
 
 " The man is a public danger. There are lonely 
 houses scattered over the moor, and he is a fellow 
 who would stick at nothing. You only want to get 
 a glimpse of his face to see that. Look at Mr. Sta- 
 pleton's house, for example, with no one but himself 
 to defend it. There's no safety for anyone until he 
 is under lock and key.'' 
 
 " He'll break into no house, sir. I give you my 
 solemn word upon that. But he will never trouble 
 anyone in this country again. I assure you. Sir 
 Henry, that in a very few days the necessary ar- 
 rangements will have been made and he will be on 
 his way to South America. For God's sake, sir, I 
 beg of you not to let the police know that he is still 
 on the moor. They have given up the chase there, 
 and he can lie quiet until the ship is ready for him. 
 You can't tell on him without getting my wife and 
 me into trouble. I beg you, sir, to say nothing to 
 the police." 
 
 ''What do you say, Watson?" 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. If he were safely out 
 of the country it would relieve the tax-payer of a 
 burden." 
 
 " But how about the chance of his holding some- 
 one up before he goes? " 
 
 " He would not do anything so mad, sir. We 
 have provided him with all that he can want. To 
 commit a crime would be to show where he was 
 hiding." 
 
 " That is true," said Sir Henry. " Well, Barry- 
 more 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 God bless you, sir, and thank you from my 
 heart! It would have killed my poor wife had he 
 been taken again.'* 
 
 " I guess we are aiding and abetting a felony, 
 Watson? But, after what we have heard, I don't 
 feel as if I could give the man up, so there is an 
 end of it. All right, Barrymore, you can go." 
 
 With a few broken words of gratitude the man 
 turned, but he hesitated and then came back. 
 
 You've been so kind to us, sir, that I should 
 like to do the best I can for you in return. I know 
 something. Sir Henry, and perhaps I should have 
 said it before, but it was long after the inquest that 
 I found it out. I've never breathed a word about 
 it yet to mortal man. It's about poor Sir Charles's 
 death." 
 
 The baronet and I were both upon our feet. 
 Do you know how he died? " 
 
 No, sir, I don't know that." 
 " What then?" 
 
 " I know why he was at the gate at that hour. 
 It was to meet a woman." 
 " To meet a woman! He? " 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And the woman's name? " 
 " I can't give you the name, sir, but I can give 
 you the initials. Her initials were L. L." 
 How do you know this, Barrymore? " 
 " Well, Sir Henry, your uncle had a letter that 
 morning. He had usually a great many letters, for 
 
 152 
 
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON 
 
 he was a public man and well known for his kind 
 heart, so that everyone who was in trouble was 
 glad to turn to him. But that morning, as it 
 chanced, there was only this on-e letter, so I took 
 the more notice of it. It was from Coombe Tracey, 
 and it was addressed in a woman's hand." 
 " Well?" 
 
 " Well, sir, I thought no more of the matter, and 
 never would have done had it not been for my wife. 
 Only a few weeks ago she was cleaning out Sir 
 Charles's study — it had never been touched since his 
 death — and she found the ashes of a burned letter 
 in the back of the grate. The greater part of it was 
 charred to pieces, but one little slip, the end of a 
 page, hung together, and the writing could still be 
 read, though it was grey on a black ground. It 
 seemed to us to be a postscript at the end of the let- 
 ter, and it said : ' Please, please, as you are a gentle- 
 man, burn this letter, and be at the gate by ten 
 o'clock.' Beneath it were signed the initials L. L." 
 
 " Have you got that slip? " 
 
 " No, sir, it crumbled all to bits after we moved 
 it." 
 
 Had Sir Charles received any other letters in 
 the same writing? " 
 
 Well, sir, I took no particular notice of his let- 
 ters. I should not have noticed this one only it 
 happened to come alone." 
 
 And you have no idea who L. L. is? " 
 
 No, sir. No more than you have. But I ex- 
 
 153 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 pect if we could lay our hands upon that lady we 
 should know more about Sir Charles's death." 
 
 " I cannot understand, Barrymore, how you came 
 to conceal this important information." 
 
 " Well, sir, it was immediately after that our own 
 trouble came to us. And then again, sir, we were 
 both of us very fond of Sir Charles, as we well might 
 be considering all that he has done for us. To rake 
 this up couldn't help our poor master, and it's well 
 to go carefully when there's a lady in the case. 
 Even the best of us " 
 
 " You thought it might injure his reputation? " 
 Well, sir, I thought no good could come of it. 
 But now you have been kind to us, and I feel as if 
 it would be treating you unfairly not to tell you 
 all that I know about the matter." 
 
 Very good, Barrymore; you can go." When 
 the butler had left us Sir Henry turned to me. 
 " Well, Watson, what do you think of this new 
 light?" 
 
 " It seems to leave the darkness rather blacker 
 thari before." 
 
 " So I think. But if we can only trace L. L. it 
 should clear up the whole business. We have 
 gained that much. We know that there is some- 
 one who has the facts if we can only find her. What 
 do you think we should do? " 
 
 Let Holmes know all about it at once. It will 
 give him the clue for which he has been seeking. 
 I am much mistaken if it does not bring him down." 
 
 154 
 
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON 
 
 I went at once to my room and drew up my re- 
 port of the morning's conversation for Holmes. It 
 was evident to me that he had been very busy of 
 late, for the notes which I had from Baker Street 
 were few and short, with no comments upon the 
 information which I had supplied, and hardly any 
 reference to my mission. No doubt his blackmail- 
 ing case is absorbing all his faculties. And yet this 
 new factor must surely arrest his attention and re- 
 new his interest. I wish that he were here. 
 
 October 17th. — All day to-day the rain poured 
 down, rustling on the ivy and dripping from the 
 eaves. I thought of the convict out upon the 
 bleak, cold, shelterless moor. Poor devil! What- 
 ever his crimes, he has suffered something to atone 
 for them. And then I thought of that other one 
 — the face in the cab, the figure against the moon. 
 Was he also out in that deluge — the unseen 
 watcher, the man of darkness? In the evening I 
 put on my waterproof and I walked far upon the 
 sodden moor, full of dark imaginings, the rain beat- 
 ing upon my face and the wind whistling about my 
 ears. God help those who wander into the great 
 mire now, for even the firm uplands are becoming 
 a morass. I found the black tor upon which I 
 had seen the solitary watcher, and from its craggy 
 summit I looked out myself across the melancholy 
 downs. Rain squalls drifted across their russet 
 face, and the heavy, slate-coloured clouds hung low 
 over the landscape, trailing in grey wreaths down 
 
 155 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 the sides of the fantastic hills. In the distant hol- 
 low on the left, half hidden by the mist, the two 
 thin towers of Baskerville Hall rose above the trees. 
 They were the only signs of human life which I 
 could see, save only those prehistoric huts which 
 lay thickly upon the slopes of the hills. Nowhere 
 was there any trace of that lonely man whom I had 
 seen on the same spot two nights before. 
 
 As I walked back I was overtaken by Dr. Morti- 
 mer driving in his dog-cart over a rough moorland 
 track, which led from the outlying farmhouse of 
 Foulmire. He has been very attentive to us, and 
 hardly a day has passed that he has not called at the 
 Hall to see how we were getting on. He insisted 
 upon my climbing into his dog-cart and he gave 
 me a lift homewards. I found him much troubled 
 over the disappearance of his little spaniel. It had 
 wandered on to the moor and had never come back. 
 I gave him such consolation as I might, but I 
 thought of the pony on the Grimpen Mire, and I 
 do not fancy that he will see his little dog again. 
 
 By the way, Mortimer,'' said I, as we jolted 
 along the rough road, I suppose there are few 
 people living within driving distance of this whom 
 you do not know? 
 
 " Hardly any, I think.'' 
 
 Can you, then, tell me the name of any woman 
 whose initials are L. L.?" 
 He thought for a few minutes. 
 
 No," said he. There are a few gipsies and 
 
 156 
 
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON 
 
 labouring folk for whom I can't answer, but among 
 the farmers or gentry there is no one whose initials 
 are those. Wait a bit though," he added, after a 
 pause. There is Laura Lyons — her initials are 
 L. L. — but she lives in Coombe Tracey." 
 
 "Who is she?" I asked. 
 She is Frankland's daughter." 
 
 " What! Old Frankland the crank? " 
 
 " Exactly. She married an artist named Lyons, 
 who came sketching on the moor. He proved to 
 be a blackguard and deserted her. The fault from 
 what I hear may not have been entirely on one side. 
 Her father refused to have anything to do with her, 
 because she had married without his consent, and 
 perhaps for one or two other reasons as well. So, 
 between the old sinner and the young one the girl 
 has had a pretty bad time." 
 How does she live? " 
 
 " I fancy old Frankland allows her a pittance, but 
 it cannot be more, for his own affairs are consider- 
 ably involved. Whatever she may have deserved 
 one could not allow her to go hopelessly to the bad. 
 Her story got about, and several of the people here 
 did something to enable her to earn an honest liv- 
 ing. Stapleton did for one, and Sir Charles for 
 another. I gave a trifle myself. It was to set her 
 up in a typewriting business." 
 
 He wanted to know the object of my inquiries, 
 but I managed to satisfy his curiosity without tell- 
 ing him too much, for there is no reason why we 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 should take anyone into our confidence. To-mor- 
 row morning I shall find my way to Coombe Tracey, 
 and if I can see this Mrs. Laura Lyons, of equivocal 
 reputation, a long step will have been made towards 
 clearing one incident in this chain of mysteries. I 
 am certainly developing the wisdom of the serpent, 
 for when Mortimer pressed his questions to an in- 
 convenient extent I asked him casually to what type 
 Frankland's skull belonged, and so heard nothing 
 but craniology for the rest of our drive. I have 
 not lived for years with Sherlock Holmes for 
 nothing. 
 
 I have only one other incident to record upon this 
 tempestuous and melancholy day. This was my 
 conversation with Barrymore just now, which gives 
 me one more strong card which I can play in due 
 time. 
 
 Mortimer had stayed to dinner, and he and the 
 baronet played ecarte afterwards. The butler 
 brought me my cofifee into the library, and I took 
 the chance to ask him a few questions. 
 
 " Well,'' said I, has this precious relation of 
 yours departed, or is he still lurking out yonder? 
 
 " I don't know, sir. I hope to Heaven that he 
 has gone, for he has brought nothing but trouble 
 here! I've not heard of him since I left out food 
 for him last, and that was three days ago." 
 
 " Did you see him then? " 
 
 " No, sir, but the food was gone when next I 
 went that way." 
 
 158 
 
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON 
 
 " Then he was certainly there? 
 So you would think, sir, unless it was the other 
 man who took it." 
 
 I sat with my coffee-cup half way to my lips and 
 stared at Barrymore. 
 
 " You know that there is another man then? 
 
 " Yes, sir; there is another man upon the moor/* 
 
 " Have you seen him? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " How do you know of him then? " 
 
 " Selden told me of him, sir, a week ago or more. 
 He's in hiding, too, but he's not a convict as far 
 as I can make out. I don't like it, Dr. Watson — I 
 tell you straight, sir, that I don't like it." He spoke 
 with a sudden passion of earnestness. 
 
 Now, listen to me, Barrymore! I have no in- 
 terest in this matter but that of your master. I 
 have come here with no object except to help him. 
 Tell me, frankly, what it is that you don't like." 
 
 Barrymore hesitated for a moment, as if he re- 
 gretted his outburst, or found it difficult to express 
 his own feelings in words. 
 
 " It's all these goings-on, sir," he cried at last, 
 waving his hand towards the rain-lashed window 
 which faced the moor. " There's foul play some- 
 where, and there's black villainy brewing, to that 
 I'll swear! Very glad I should be, sir, to see Sir 
 Henry on his way back to London again! " 
 
 " But what is it that alarms you? " 
 
 "Look at Sir Charles's death! That was bad 
 
 159 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 enough, for all that the coroner said. Look at the 
 noises on the moor at night. There's not a man 
 would cross it after sundown if he was paid for it. 
 Look at this stranger hiding out yonder, and watch- 
 ing and waiting! What's he waiting for? What 
 does it mean? It means no good to anyone of the 
 name of Baskerville, and very glad I shall be to 
 be quit of it all on the day that Sir Henry's new 
 servants are ready to take over the Hall." 
 
 But about this stranger," said L Can you 
 tell me anything about him? What did Selden say? 
 Did he find out where he hid, or what he was 
 doing? " 
 
 " He saw him once or twice, but he is a deep one, 
 and gives nothing away. At first he thought that 
 he was the police, but soon he found that he had 
 some lay of his own. A kind of gentleman he was, 
 as far as he could see, but what he was doing he 
 could not make out." 
 
 And where did he say that he lived? " 
 
 " Among the old houses on the hillside — the 
 stone huts where the old folk used to live." 
 But how about his food? " 
 
 " Selden found out that he has got a lad who 
 works for him and brings him all he needs. I dare- 
 say he goes to Coombe Tracey for what he wants." 
 
 " Very good, Barrymore. We may talk further 
 of this some other time." When the butler had 
 gone I walked over to the black window, and I 
 looked through a blurred pane at the driving clouds 
 
 1 60 
 
THE DIARY OF DR. WATSON 
 
 and at the tossing outline of the wind-swept trees. 
 It is a wild night indoors, and what must it be in 
 a stone hut upon the moor. What passion of hatred 
 can it be which leads a man to lurk in such a place 
 at such a time! And what deep and earnest pur- 
 pose can he have which calls for such a trial! 
 There, in that hut upon the moor, seems to lie the 
 very centre of that problem which has vexed me 
 so sorely. I swear that another day shall not have 
 passed before I have done all that man can do to 
 reach the heart of the mystery. 
 
 i6l 
 
XI 
 
 The Man on the Tor 
 
 THE extract from my private diary which 
 forms the last chapter has brought my nar- 
 rative up to the 1 8th of October, a time 
 when these strange events began to move swiftly 
 towards their terrible conclusion. The incidents of 
 the next few days are indelibly graven upon my 
 recollection, and I can tell them without reference 
 to the notes made at the time. I start then from 
 the day which succeeded that upon which I had 
 established two facts of great importance, the one 
 that Mrs. Laura Lyons of Coombe Tracey had writ- 
 ten to Sir Charles Baskerville and made an appoint- 
 ment with him at the very place and hour that he 
 met his death, the other that the lurking man upon 
 the moor was to be found among the stone huts 
 upon the hill-side. With these cwo facts in my pos- 
 session I felt that either my intelligence or my cour^ 
 age must be deficient if I could not throw some 
 further light upon these dark places. 
 
 I had no opportunity to tell the baronet what I 
 had learned about Mrs. Lyons upon the evening 
 before, for Dr. Mortimer remained with him at cards 
 until it was very late. At breakfast, however, I 
 informed him about my discovery, and asked him 
 
 162 
 
THE MAN ON THE TOR 
 
 whether he would care to accompany me to 
 Coombe Tracey. At first he was very eager to 
 come, but on second thoughts it seemed to both of 
 us that if I went alone the results might be better. 
 The more formal we made the visit the less informa- 
 tion we might obtain. I left Sir Henry behind, 
 therefore, not without some prickings of conscience, 
 and drove oflf upon my new quest. 
 
 When I reached Coombe Tracey I told Perkins 
 to put up the horses, and I made inquiries for the 
 lady whom I had come to interrogate. I had no 
 difficulty in finding her rooms, which were central 
 and well appointed. A maid showed me in without 
 ceremony, and as I entered the sitting-room a lady, 
 who was sitting before a Remington typewriter, 
 sprang up with a pleasant smile of welcome. Her 
 face fell, however, when she saw that I was a 
 stranger, and she sat down again and asked me the 
 object of my visit. 
 
 The first impression left by Mrs. Lyons was one 
 of extreme beauty. Her eyes and hair were of the 
 same rich hazel colour, and her cheeks, though con- 
 siderably freckled, were flushed with the exquisite 
 bloom of the brunette, the dainty pink which lurks 
 at the heart of the sulphur rose. Admiration was, 
 I repeat, the first impression. But the second was 
 criticism. There was something subtly wrong with 
 the face, some coarseness of expression, some hard- 
 ness, perhaps, of eye, some looseness of lip which 
 marred its perfect beauty. But these, of course, 
 
 163 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 are after-thoughts. At the moment I was simply 
 conscious that I was in the presence of a very hand- 
 some woman, and that she was asking me the rea- 
 sons for my visit. I had not quite understood until 
 that instant how delicate my mission was. 
 
 " I have the pleasure/' said I, " of knowing your 
 father.'' 
 
 It was a clumsy introduction, and the lady made 
 me feel it. • 
 
 There is nothing in common between my father 
 and me," she said. I owe him nothing, and his - 
 friends are not mine. If it were not for the late 
 Sir Charles Baskerville and some other kind hearts 
 I might have starved for all that my father cared." 
 
 It was about the late Sir Charles Baskerville 
 that I have come here to see you." 
 
 The freckles started out on the lady's face. 
 
 " What can I tell you about him? " she asked, 
 and her fingers played nervously over the stops of 
 her typewriter. 
 
 " You knew him, did you not? " 
 I have already said that I owe a great deal to 
 his kindness. If I am able to support myself it is 
 largely due to the interest which he took in my un- 
 happy situation." 
 
 Did you correspond with him? " 
 
 The lady looked quickly up with an angry gleam 
 in her hazel eyes. 
 
 ''What is the object of these questions?" she 
 asked, sharply. 
 
 164 
 
THE MAN ON THE ToR 
 
 " The object is to avoid a public scandal. It is 
 better that I should ask them here than that the 
 matter should pass outside our control." 
 
 She was silent and her face was still very pale. 
 At last she looked up with something reckless and 
 defiant in her manner. 
 
 " Well, ril answer," she said. " What are your 
 questions? " 
 
 Did you correspond with Sir Charles? " 
 " I certainly wrote to him once or twice to ac- 
 knowledge his delicacy and his generosity." 
 Have you the dates of those letters? " 
 No." 
 
 " Have you ever met him? " 
 
 " Yes, once or twice, when he came into Coombe 
 Tracey. He was a very retiring man, and he pre- 
 ferred to do good by stealth." 
 
 " But if you saw him so seldom and wrote so sel- 
 dom, how did he know enough about your affairs 
 to be able to help you, as you say that he has 
 done?" 
 
 She met my difficulty with the utmost readi- 
 ness. 
 
 There were several gentlemen who knew my 
 sad history and united to help me. One was Mr. 
 Stapleton, a neighbour and intimate friend of Sir 
 Charles's. He was exceedingly kind, and it was 
 through him that Sir Charles learned about my 
 affairs." 
 
 I knew already that Sir Charles Baskerville had 
 
 165 
 
TM£ HoUnD of the BAsKERVILLeS 
 
 made Stapleton his almoner upon several occasions, 
 so the lady's statement bore the impress of truth 
 upon it. 
 
 " Did you ever write to Sir Charles asking him 
 to meet you? " I continued. 
 
 Mrs. Lyons flushed with anger again. 
 Really, sir, this is a very extraordinary ques- 
 tion." 
 
 I am sorry, Madame, but I must repeat it/' 
 Then I answer, certainly not.'' 
 " Not on the very day of Sir Charles's death? '* 
 The flush had faded in an instant, and a deathly 
 face was before me. Her dry lips could not speak 
 the No " which I saw rather than heard. 
 
 " Surely your memory deceives you," said 1. " I 
 could even quote a passage of your letter. It ran 
 * Please, please, as you are a gentleman, burn this 
 letter, and be at the gate by ten o'clock.' " 
 
 I thought that she had fainted, but she recovered 
 herself by a supreme effort. 
 
 Is there no such thing as a gentleman?" she 
 gasped. 
 
 " You do Sir Charles an injustice. He did burn 
 the letter. But sometimes a letter may be legible 
 even when burned. You acknowledge now that 
 you wrote it." 
 
 Yes, I did write it," she cried, pouring out her 
 soul in a torrent of words. " I did write it. Why 
 should I deny it? I have no reason to be ashamed 
 of it. I wished him to help me. I believed that if 
 
 i66 
 
THE MAN ON THE TOR 
 
 I had an interview I could gain his help, so I asked 
 him to meet me/' 
 
 But why at such an hour? " 
 
 " Because I had only just learned that he was go- 
 ing to London next day and might be away for 
 months. There were reasons why I could not get 
 there earlier/* 
 
 " But why a rendezvous in the garden instead of 
 a visit to the house? " 
 
 " Do you think a woman could go alone at that 
 hour to a bachelor's house? '' 
 
 " Well, what happened when you did get there? " 
 
 " I never went/' 
 Mrs. Lyons!" 
 
 " No, I swear it to you on all I hold sacred. I 
 never went. Something intervened to prevent my 
 going." 
 
 " What was that?" 
 
 " That is a private matter. I cannot tell it." 
 You acknowledge then that you made an ap- 
 pointment with Sir Charles at the very hour and 
 place at which he met his death, but you deny that 
 you kept the appointment." 
 
 " That is the truth." 
 
 Again and again I cross-questioned her, but I 
 could never get past that point. 
 
 " Mrs. Lyons," said I, as I rose from this long 
 and inconclusive interview, " you are taking a very 
 great responsibility and putting yourself in a very 
 false position by not making an absolutely clean 
 
 167 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 breast of all that you know. If I have to call in the 
 aid of the police you will find how seriously you are 
 compromised. If your position is innocent, why 
 did you in the first instance deny having written to 
 Sir Charles upon that date? " 
 
 Because I feared that some false conclusion 
 might be drawn from it, and that I might find my- 
 self involved in a scandal." 
 
 " And why were you so pressing that Sir Charles 
 should destroy your letter? 
 
 " If you have read the letter you will know." 
 
 " I did not say that I had read all the letter." 
 
 " You quoted some of it." 
 I quoted the postscript. The letter had, as I 
 said, been burned and it was not all legible. I ask 
 you once again why it was that you were so press- 
 ing that Sir Charles should destroy this letter which 
 he received on the day of his death." 
 
 " The matter is a very private one." 
 
 *'The more reason why you avoid a public in- 
 vestigation." 
 
 I will tell you, then. If you have heard any- 
 thing of my unhappy history you will know that I 
 made a rash marriage and had reason to regret it." 
 
 " I have heard so much." 
 
 " My life has been one incessant persecution from 
 a husband whom I abhor. The law is upon his side, 
 and every day I am faced by the possibility that he 
 may force me to live with him. At the time that I 
 wrote this letter to Sir Charles I had learned that 
 
 i68 
 
I 
 
 THE MAN ON THE TOR 
 
 there was a prospect of my regaining my freedom 
 if certain expenses could be met. It meant every- 
 thing to me — peace of mind, happiness, self-respect 
 — everything. I knew Sir Charles's generosity, 
 and I thought that if he heard the story from my 
 own lips he would help me." 
 
 Then how is it that you did not go? " 
 
 " Because I received help in the interval from an- 
 other source." 
 
 " Why, then, did you not write to Sir Charles and 
 explain this? " 
 
 " So I should have done had I not seen his death 
 in the paper next morning." 
 
 The woman's story hung coherently together, 
 and all my questions were unable to shake it. I 
 could only check it by finding if she had, indeed, 
 instituted divorce proceedings against her husband 
 at or about the time of the tragedy. 
 
 It was unlikely that she would dare to say that 
 she had not been to Baskerville Hall if she really 
 had been, for a trap would be necessary to take her 
 there, and could not have returned to Coombe 
 Tracey until the early hours of the morning. Such 
 an excursion could not be kept secret. The prob- 
 ability was, therefore, that she was telling the truth, 
 or, at least, a part of the truth. I came away baf- 
 fled and disheartened. Once again I had reached 
 that dead wall which seemed to be built across every 
 path by which I tried to get at the object of my 
 mission. And yet the more I thought of the lady's 
 
 169 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 face and of her manner the more I felt that some- 
 thing was being held back from me. Why should 
 she turn so pale? Why should she fight against 
 every admission until it was forced from her? Why 
 should she have been so reticent at the time of the 
 tragedy? Surely the explanation of all this could 
 not be as innocent as she would have me believe. 
 For the moment I could proceed no farther in that 
 direction, but must turn back to that other clue 
 which was to be sought for among the stone huts 
 upon the moor. 
 
 And that was a most vague direction. I realized 
 it as I drove back and noted how hill after hill 
 showed traces of the ancient people. Barrymore's 
 only indication had been that the stranger lived in 
 one of these abandoned huts, and many hundreds 
 of them are scattered throughout the length and 
 breadth of the moor. But I had my own experi- 
 ence for a guide since it had shown me the man 
 himself standing upon the summit of the Black Tor. 
 That then should be the centre of my search. From 
 there I should explore every hut upon the moor un- 
 til I lighted upon the right one. If this man were 
 inside it I should find out from his own lips, at the 
 point of my revolver if necessary, who he was and 
 why he had dogged us so long. He might slip 
 away from us in the crowd of Regent Street, but it 
 would puzzle him to do so upon the lonely moor. 
 On the other hand, if I should find the hut and its 
 tenant should not be within it I must remain there, 
 
 170 
 
THE MAN ON THE ToR 
 
 however long the vigil, until he returned. Holmes 
 had missed him in London. It would indeed be a 
 triumph for me if I could run him to earth, where 
 my master had failed. 
 
 Luck had been against us again and again in this 
 inquiry, but now at last it came to my aid. And 
 the messenger of good fortune was none other than 
 Mr. Frankland, who was standing, grey whiskered 
 and red-faced, outside the gate of his garden, which 
 opened on to the high road along which I travelled. 
 
 " Good-day, Dr. Watson," cried he, with un- 
 wonted good humour, " you must really give your 
 horses a rest, and come in to have a glass of wine 
 and to congratulate me.'' 
 
 My feelings towards him were far from being 
 friendly after what I had heard of his treatment of 
 his daughter, but I was anxious to send Perkins and 
 the waggonette home, and the opportunity was a 
 good one. I alighted and sent a message to Sir 
 Henry that I should walk over in time for dinner. 
 Then I followed Frankland into his dining-room. 
 
 " It is a great day for me, sir — one of the red- 
 letter days of my life,'' he cried, with many chuckles. 
 " I have brought off a double event. I mean to 
 teach them in these parts that law is law, and that 
 there is a man here who does not fear to invoke it. 
 I have established a right of way through the centre 
 of old Middleton's park, slap across it, sir, within 
 a hundred yards of his own front door. What do 
 you think of that? We'll teach these magnates that 
 
 171 
 
THE HOUND OF f M E BASKERVlLLfiS 
 
 they cannot ride rough shod over the rights of the 
 commoners, confound them! And Fve closed the 
 wood where the Fernworthy folk used to picnic. 
 . These infernal people seem to think that there are 
 no rights of property, and that they can swarm 
 where they like with their papers and their bottles. 
 Both cases decided. Dr. Watson, and both in my 
 favour. I haven't had such a day since I had Sir 
 John Morland for trespass, because he shot in his 
 own warren.'' 
 
 " How on earth did you do that? 
 Look it up in the books, sir. It will repay 
 reading — Frankland v. Morland, Court of Queen's 
 Bench. It cost me £200, but I got my verdict." 
 Did it do you any good? " 
 
 " None, sir, none. I am proud to say that I had 
 no interest in the matter. I act entirely from a 
 sense of public duty. I have no doubt, for exam- 
 ple, that the Fernworthy people will burn me in 
 effigy to-night. I told the police last time they did 
 it that they should stop these disgraceful exhibi- 
 tions. The County Constabulary is in a scandalous 
 state, sir, and it has not afforded me the protection 
 to which I am entitled. The case of Frankland v. 
 Regina will bring the matter before the attention of 
 the public. I told them that they would have occa- 
 sion to regret their treatment of me, and already 
 my words have come true." 
 
 " How so? " I asked. 
 
 The old man put on a very knowing expression. 
 
 172 
 
THE MAN ON THE TOR 
 
 " Because I could tell them what they are dying 
 to know; but nothing would induce me to help the 
 rascals in any way." 
 
 I had been casting round for some excuse by 
 which I could get away from his gossip, but now 
 I began to wish to hear more of it. I had seen 
 enough of the contrary nature of the old sinner to 
 understand that any strong sign of interest would 
 be the surest way to stop his confidences. 
 
 Some poaching case, no doubt? " said I, with 
 an indifferent manner. 
 
 Ha, ha, my boy, a very much more important 
 matter than that! What about the convict on the 
 moor? " 
 
 I started. " You don't mean that you know 
 where he is? said L 
 
 " I may not know exactly where he is, but I am 
 quite sure that I could help the police to lay their 
 hands on him. Has it never struck you that the 
 way to catch that man was to find out where he 
 got his food, and so trace it to him? " 
 
 He certainly seemed to be getting uncomfortably 
 near the truth. No doubt,'' said I ; but how do 
 you know that he is anywhere upon the moor? '* 
 
 " I know it because I have seen with my own eyes 
 the messenger who takes him his food." 
 
 My heart sank for Barrymore. It was a serious 
 thing to be in the power of this spiteful old busy- 
 body. But his next remark took a weight from my 
 mind. 
 
 173 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 You'll be surprised to hear that his food is taken 
 to him by a child. I see him every day through 
 my telescope upon the roof. He passes along the 
 same path at the same hour, and to whom should 
 he be going except to the convict? 
 
 Here was luck indeed! And yet I suppressed all 
 appearance of interest. A child! Barrymore had 
 said that our unknown was supplied by a boy. It 
 was on his track, and not upon the convict's, that 
 Frankland had stumbled. If I could get his knowl- 
 edge it might save me a long and weary hunt. But 
 incredulity and indifference were evidently my 
 strongest cards. 
 
 " I should say that it was much more likely that 
 it was the son of one of the moorland shepherds 
 taking out his father's dinner." 
 
 The least appearance of opposition struck fire out 
 of the old autocrat. His eyes looked malignantly 
 at me, and his grey whiskers bristled like those of 
 an angry cat. 
 
 "Indeed, sir!" said he, pointing out over the 
 wide-stretching moor. Do you see that Black 
 Tor over yonder? Well, do you see the low hill 
 beyond with the thornbrush upon it? It is the 
 stoniest part of the whole moor. Is that a place 
 where a shepherd would be likely to take his sta- 
 tion? Your suggestion, sir, is a most absurd one." 
 
 I meekly answered that I had spoken without 
 knowing all the facts. My submission pleased him 
 and led him to further confidences. 
 
 174 
 
THE MAN ON THE TOR 
 
 You may be sure, sir, that I have very good 
 grounds before I come to an opinion. I have seen 
 the boy again and again with his bundle. Every 
 day, and sometimes twice a day, I have been able 
 — but wait a moment. Dr. Watson. Do my eyes 
 deceive me, or is there at the present moment some- 
 thing moving upon that hill-side? 
 
 It was several miles off, but I could distinctly 
 see a small dark dot against the dull green and 
 grey. 
 
 Come, sir, come!" cried Frankland, rushing 
 upstairs. " You will see with your own eyes and 
 judge for yourself." 
 
 The telescope, a formidable instrument mounted 
 upon a tripod, stood upon the fiat leads of the 
 house. Frankland clapped his eye to it and gave 
 a cry of satisfaction. 
 
 " Quick, Dr. Watson, quick, before he passes 
 over the hill!" 
 
 There he was, sure enough, a small urchin with 
 a little bundle upon his shoulder, toiling slowly up 
 the hill. When he reached the crest I saw the rag- 
 ged uncouth figure outlined for an instant against 
 the cold blue sky. He looked round him, with a 
 furtive and stealthy air, as one who dreads pursuit. 
 Then he vanished over the hill. 
 
 "Well! Am I right?" 
 
 " Certainly, there is a boy who seems to have 
 some secret errand." 
 
 And what the errand is even a county constable 
 
 175 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 could guess. But not one word shall they have 
 from me, and I bind you to secrecy also, Dr. Wat- 
 son. Not a word! You understand!" 
 Just as you wish.'' 
 
 They have treated me shamefully — shamefully. 
 When the facts come out in Frankland v. Regina 
 I venture to think that a thrill of indignation will 
 run through the country. Nothing would induce 
 me to help the police in any way. For all they 
 cared it might have been me, instead of my effigy, 
 which these rascals burned at the stake. Surely 
 you are not going ! You will help me to empty the 
 decanter in honour of this great occasion! " 
 
 But I resisted all his solicitations and succeeded 
 in dissuading him from his announced intention of 
 walking home with me. I kept the road as long 
 as his eye was on me, and then I struck oflf across 
 the moor and made for the stony hill over which 
 the boy had disappeared. Everything was working 
 in my favour, and I swore that it should not be 
 through lack of energy or perseverance that I 
 should miss the chance which Fortune had thrown 
 in my way. 
 
 The sun was already sinking when I reached the 
 summit of the hill, and the long slopes beneath me 
 were all golden-green on one side and grey shadow 
 on the other. A haze lay low upon the farthest 
 sky-line, out of which jutted the fantastic shapes of 
 Belliver and Vixen Tor. Over the wide expanse 
 there was no sound and no movement. One great 
 
 176 
 
THE MAN ON THE TOR 
 
 grey bird, a gull or curlew, soared aloft in the blue 
 Heaven. He and I seemed to be the only living 
 things between the huge arch of the sky and the 
 desert beneath it. The barren scene, the sense of 
 loneliness, and the mystery and urgency of my task 
 all struck a chill into my heart. The boy was no- 
 where to be seen. But down beneath me in a cleft 
 of the hills there was a circle of the old stone huts, 
 and in the middle of them there was one which re- 
 tained sufficient roof to act as a screen against the 
 weather. My heart leaped within me as I saw it. 
 This must be the burrow where the stranger 
 lurked. At last my foot was on the threshold of 
 his hiding place — his secret was within my grasp. 
 
 As I approached the hut, walking as warily as 
 Stapleton would do when with poised net he drew 
 near the settled butterfly, I satisfied myself that the 
 place had indeed been used as a habitation. A 
 vague pathway among the boulders led to the 
 dilapidated opening which served as a door. All 
 was silent within. The unknown might be lurking 
 there, or he might be prowling on the moor. My 
 nerves tingled with the sense of adventure. Throw- 
 ing aside my cigarette, I closed my hand upon the 
 butt of my revolver and, walking swiftly up to the 
 door, I looked in. The place was empty. 
 
 But there were ample signs that I had not come 
 upon a false scent. This was certainly where the 
 man lived. Some blankets rolled in a waterproof 
 lay upon that very stone slab upon which neolithic 
 
 177 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 man had once slumbered. The ashes of a fire were 
 heaped in a rude grate. Beside it lay some cook- 
 ing utensils and a bucket half-full of water. A lit- 
 ter of empty tins showed that the place had been 
 occupied for some time, and I saw, as my eyes be- 
 came accustomed to the chequered light, a panni- 
 kin and a half-full bottle of spirits standing in the 
 corner. In the middle of the hut a flat stone served 
 the purpose of a table, and upon this stood a small 
 cloth bundle — the same, no doubt, which I had seen 
 through the telescope upon the shoulder of the boy. 
 It contained a loaf of bread, a tinned tongue, and 
 two tins of preserved peaches. As I set it down 
 again, after having examined it, my heart leaped to 
 see that beneath it there lay a sheet of paper with 
 writing upon it. I raised it, and this was what I 
 read, roughly scrawled in pencil: — 
 
 " Dr. Watson has gone to Coombe Tracey." 
 
 For a minute I stood there with the paper in my 
 hands thinking out the meaning of this curt mes- 
 sage. It was I, then, and not Sir Henry, who was 
 being dogged by this secret man. He had not fol- 
 lowed me himself, but he had set an agent — the 
 boy, perhaps — upon my track, and this was his re- 
 port. Possibly I had taken no step since I had 
 been upon the moor which had not been observed 
 and repeated. Always there was this feeling of an 
 unseen force, a fine net drawn round us with infinite 
 skill and delicacy, holding us so lightly that it was 
 
 178 
 
THE MAN ON THE TOR 
 
 only at some supreme moment that one realized 
 that one was indeed entangled in its meshes. 
 
 If there was one report there might be others, 
 so I looked round the hut in search of them. There 
 was no trace, however, of anything of the kind, nor 
 could I discover any sign which might indicate the 
 character or intentions of the man who lived in this 
 singular place, save that he must be of Spartan hab- 
 its, and cared little for the comforts of life. When 
 I thought of the heavy rains and looked at the 
 gaping roof I understood how strong and immuta- 
 ble must be the purpose which had kept him in 
 that inhospitable abode. Was he our malignant 
 enemy, or was he by chance our guardian angel? 
 I swore that I would not leave the hut until I 
 knew. 
 
 Outside the sun was sinking low and the west 
 was blazing with scarlet and gold. Its reflection 
 was shot back in ruddy patches by the distant pools 
 which lay amid the great Grimpen Mire. There 
 were the two towers of Baskerville Hall, and there 
 a distant blur of smoke which marked the village 
 of Grimpen. Between the two, behind the hill, was 
 the house of the Stapletons. All was sweet and 
 mellow and peaceful in the golden evening light, 
 and yet as I looked at them my soul shared none 
 of the peace of nature, but quivered at the vague- 
 ness and the terror of that interview which every 
 instant was bringing nearer. With tingling nerves, 
 but a fixed purpose, I sat in the dark recess of the 
 
 179 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 hut and waited with sombre patience for the com- 
 ing of its tenant. 
 
 And then at last I heard him. Far a.way came 
 the sharp clink of a boot striking upon a stone. 
 Then another and yet another, coming nearer and 
 nearer. I shrank back into the darkest corner, and 
 cocked the pistol in my pocket, determined not to 
 discover myself until I had an opportunity of see- 
 ing something of the stranger. There was a long 
 pause which showed that he had stopped. Then 
 once more the footsteps approached and a shadow 
 fell across the opening of the hut. 
 
 " It is a lovely evening, my dear Watson,'' said 
 a well-known voice. " I really think that you will 
 be more comfortable outside than in." 
 
 1 80 
 
XII 
 
 Death on the Moor 
 
 FOR a moment or two I sat breathless, hard- 
 ly able to believe my ears. Then my senses 
 and my voice came back to me, while 
 a crushing weight of responsibility seemed in an 
 instant to be lifted from my soul. That cold, in- 
 cisive, ironical voice could belong to but one man 
 in all the world. 
 
 Holmes! " I cried—" Holmes! 
 " Come out," said he, and please be careful with 
 the revolver." 
 
 I stooped under the rude lintel, and there he sat 
 upon a stone outside, his grey eyes dancing with 
 amusement as they fell upon my astonished feat- 
 ures. He was thin and worn, but clear and alert, 
 his keen face bronzed by the sun and roughened 
 by the wind. In his tweed suit and cloth cap he 
 looked like any other tourist upon the moor, and 
 he had contrived, with that cat-like love of personal 
 cleanliness which was one of his characteristics, that 
 his chin should be as smooth and his linen as per- 
 fect as if he were in Baker Street, 
 
 " I never was more glad to see anyone in my 
 life," said I, as I wrung him by the hand. 
 
 i8i 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Or more astonished, eh? " 
 
 Well, I must confess to it/' 
 " The surprise was not all on one side, I assure 
 you. I had no idea that you had found my occa- 
 sional retreat, still less that you were inside it, un- 
 til I was within twenty paces of the door/' 
 " My footprint, I presume? " 
 
 No, Watson ; I fear that I could not undertake 
 to recognise your footprint amid all the footprints 
 of the world. If you seriously desire to deceive me 
 you must change your tobacconist; for when I see 
 the stub of a cigarette marked Bradley, Oxford 
 Street, I know that my friend Watson is in the 
 neighbourhood. You will see it there beside the 
 path. You threw it down, no doubt, at that su- 
 preme moment when you charged into the empty 
 hut." 
 
 Exactly." 
 
 " I thought as much — and knowing your admir- 
 able tenacity I was convinced that you were sitting 
 in ambush, a weapon within reach, waiting for the 
 tenant to return. So you actually thought that I 
 was the criminal?" 
 
 " I did not know who you were, but I was deter- 
 mined to find out." 
 
 " Excellent, Watson ! And how did you localize 
 me? You saw me, perhaps, on the night of the 
 convict hunt, when I was so imprudent as to allow 
 the moon to rise behind me? " 
 
 " Yes, I saw you then." 
 
 182 
 
DEATH ON THE MOOR 
 
 " And have no doubt searched all the huts until 
 you came to this one? " 
 
 " No, your boy had been observed, and that gave 
 me a guide where to look." 
 
 " The old gentleman with the telescope, no doubt. 
 I could not make it out when first I saw the light 
 flashing upon the lens." He rose and peeped into 
 the hut. " Ha, I see that Cartwright has brought 
 up some supplies. What's this paper? So you 
 have been to Coombe Tracey, have you? " 
 Yes." 
 
 " To see Mrs. Laura Lyons? " 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Well done ! Our researches have evidently 
 been running on parallel Hues, and when we unite 
 our results I expect we shall have a fairly full knowl- 
 edge of the case." 
 
 Well, I am glad from my heart that you are 
 here, for indeed the responsibility and the mystery 
 were both becoming too much for my nerves. But 
 how in the name of wonder did you come here, and 
 what have you been doing? I thought that you 
 were in Baker Street working out that case of black- 
 mailing." 
 
 " That was what I wished you to think." 
 
 "Then you use me, and yet do not trust me!" 
 I cried, with some bitterness. " I think that I have 
 deserved better at your hands. Holmes." 
 
 " My dear fellow, you have been invaluable to me 
 in this as in many other cases, and I beg that you 
 
 183 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 will forgive me if I have seemed to play a trick up- 
 on you. In truth, it was partly for your own sake 
 that I did it, and it was my appreciation of the dan- 
 ger which you ran which led me to come down and 
 examine the matter for myself. Had I been with 
 Sir Henry and you it is confident that my point of 
 view would have been the same as yours, and my 
 presence would have warned our very formidable 
 opponents to be on their guard. As it is, I have 
 been able to get about as I could not possibly have 
 done had I been living in the Hall, and I remain 
 an unknown factor in the business, ready to throw 
 in all my weight at a critical moment." 
 But why keep me in the dark? " 
 " For you to know could not have helped us, and 
 might possibly have led to my discovery. You 
 would have wished to tell me something, or in your 
 kindness you would have brought me out some 
 comfort or other, and so an unnecessary risk would 
 be run. I brought Cartwright down with me — ^you 
 remember the little chap at the Express Office — 
 and he has seen after my simple wants: a loaf of 
 bread and a clean collar. What does man want 
 more? He has given me an extra pair of eyes 
 upon a very active pair of feet, and both have been 
 invaluable.'' 
 
 " Then my reports have all been wasted! — My 
 voice trembled as I recalled the pains and the pride 
 with which I had composed them. 
 
 Holmes took a bundle of papers from his pocket. 
 
 184 
 
DEATH ON THE MOOR 
 
 Here are your reports, my dear fellow, and very 
 well thumbed, I assure you. I made excellent ar- 
 rangements, and they are only delayed one day up- 
 on their way. I must compliment you exceedingly 
 upon the zeal and the intelligence which you have 
 shown over an extraordinarily difficult case." 
 
 I was still rather raw over the deception which 
 had been practised upon me, but the warmth of 
 Holmes's praise drove my anger from my mind. I 
 felt also in my heart that he was right in what he 
 said and that it was really best for our purpose that 
 I should not have known that he was upon the 
 moor. 
 
 " That's better," said he, seeing the shadow rise 
 from my face. " And now tell me the result of your 
 visit to Mrs. Laura Lyons — it was not difficult for 
 me to guess that it was to see her that you had 
 gone, for I am already aware that she is the one 
 person in Coombe Tracey who might be of service 
 to us in the matter. In fact, if you had not gone 
 to-day it is exceedingly probable that I should have 
 gone to-morrow." 
 
 The sun had set and dusk was settling over the 
 moor. The air had turned chill and we withdrew 
 into the hut for warmth. There, sitting together 
 in the twilight, I told Holmes of my conversation 
 with the lady. So interested was he that I had to 
 repeat some of it twice before he was satisfied. 
 
 " This is most important," said he, when I had 
 concluded. It fills up a gap which I had been 
 
 185 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 unable to bridge, in this most complex affair. You 
 are aware, perhaps, that a close intimacy exists be- 
 tween this lady and the man Staple ton? 
 I did not know of a close intimacy/' 
 
 " There can be no doubt about the matter. They 
 meet, they write, there is a complete understanding 
 between them. Now, this puts a very powerful 
 weapon into our hands. If I could only use it to 
 detach his wife " 
 
 "His wife?'' 
 
 " I am giving you some information now, in re- 
 turn for all that you have given me. The lady who 
 has passed here as Miss Stapleton is in reality his 
 wife." 
 
 Good heavens. Holmes! Are you sure of what 
 you say? How could he have permitted Sir Henry 
 to fall in love with her? " 
 
 Sir Henry's falling in love could do no harm to 
 anyone except Sir Henry. He took particular care 
 that Sir Henry did not make love to her, as you 
 have yourself observed. I repeat that the lady is 
 his wife and not his sister." 
 
 " But why this elaborate deception? '* 
 
 Because he foresaw that she would be very 
 much more useful to him in the character of a free 
 woman." 
 
 All my unspoken instincts, my vague suspicions, 
 suddenly took shape and centred upon the natural- 
 ist. In that impassive, colourless man, with his 
 straw hat and his butterfly-net, I seemed to see 
 
 186 
 
DEATH ON THE MOOR 
 
 something terrible — a creature of infinite patience 
 and craft, with a smiling face and a murderous heart. 
 
 " It is he, then, who is our enemy — it is he who 
 dogged us in London? 
 
 " So I read the riddle." 
 
 "And the warning — it must have come from 
 her!" 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 The shape of some monstrous villainy, half seen, 
 half guessed, loomed through the darkness which 
 had girt me so long. 
 
 " But are you sure of this, Holmes? How do 
 you know that the woman is his wife? " 
 
 " Because he so far forgot himself as to tell you 
 a true piece of autobiography upon the occasion 
 when he first met you, and I daresay he has many 
 a time regretted it since. He was once a school- 
 master in the North of England. Now, there is no 
 one more easy to trace than a schoolmaster. There 
 are scholastic agencies by which one may identify 
 any man who has been in the profession. A little 
 investigation showed me that a school had come to 
 grief under atrocious circumstances, and that the 
 man who had owned it — the name was different 
 — ^had disappeared with his wife. The descriptions 
 agreed. When I learned that the missing man was 
 devoted to entomology the identification was com- 
 plete." 
 
 The darkness was rising, but much was still hid- 
 den by the shadows. 
 
 187 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " If this woman is in truth his wife, where does 
 Mrs. Laura Lyons come in? I asked. 
 
 " That is one of the points upon which your own 
 researches have shed a light. Your interview with 
 the lady has cleared the situation very much. I did 
 not know about a projected divorce between her- 
 self and her husband. In that case, regarding Sta- 
 pleton as an unmarried man, she counted no doubt 
 upon becoming his wife." 
 
 " And when she is undeceived? 
 
 " Why, then we may find the lady of service. It 
 must be our first duty to see her — both of us — to- 
 morrow. Don't you think, Watson, that you are 
 away from your charge rather long? Your place 
 should be at Baskerville Hall." 
 
 The last red streaks had faded away in the west 
 and night had settled upon the moor. A few faint 
 stars were gleaming in a violet sky. 
 
 " One last question. Holmes," I said, as I rose. 
 " Surely there is no need of secrecy between you 
 and me. What is the meaning of it all? What is 
 he after? " 
 
 Holmes's voice sank as he answered: — 
 
 " It is murder, Watson — refined, cold-blooded, 
 deliberate murder. Do not ask me for particulars. 
 My nets are closing upon him, even as his are upon 
 Sir Henry, and with your help he is already almost 
 at my mercy. There is but one danger which can 
 threaten us. It is that he should strike before we 
 are ready to do so. Another day — ^two at the most 
 
 i88 
 
DEATH ON THE MOOR 
 
 — and I have my case complete, but until then 
 guard your charge as closely as ever a fond mother 
 watched her ailing child. Your mission to-day has 
 justified itself, and yet I could almost wish that you 
 had not left his side — Hark! " 
 
 A terrible scream — a prolonged yell of horror and 
 anguish burst out of the silence of the moor. That 
 frightful cry turned the blood to ice in my veins. 
 
 " Oh, my God! " I gasped. What is it? What 
 does it mean? " 
 
 Holmes had sprung to his feet, and I saw his 
 dark, athletic outline at the door of the hut, his 
 shoulders stooping, his head thrust forward, his face 
 peering into the darkness. 
 
 " Hush ! " he whispered. " Hush ! " 
 
 The cry had been loud on account of its vehe- 
 mence, but it had pealed out from somewhere far 
 off on the shadowy plain. Now it burst upon our 
 ears, nearer, louder, more urgent than before. 
 
 "Where is it?" Holmes whispered; and I knew 
 from the thrill of his voice that he, the man of 
 iron, was shaken to the soul. " Where is it, Wat- 
 son?" 
 
 " There, I think." I pointed into the darkness. 
 "No, there!" 
 
 Again the agonized cry swept through the silent 
 night, louder and much nearer than ever. And a 
 new sound mingled with it, a deep, muttered rum- 
 ble, musical and yet menacing, rising and falling like 
 the low, constant murmur of the sea. 
 
 189 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " The hound! cried Holmes. " Come, Watson, 
 come! Great heavens, if we are too late! " 
 
 He had started running swiftly over the moor, and 
 I had followed at his heels. But now from some- 
 where among the broken ground immediately in 
 front of us there came one last despairing yell, and 
 then a dull, heavy thud. We halted and listened. 
 Not another sound broke the heavy silence of the 
 windless night. 
 
 I saw Holmes put his hand to his forehead like 
 a man distracted. He stamped his feet upon the 
 ground. 
 
 He has beaten us, Watson. We are too late." 
 "No, no, surely not!" 
 
 " Fool that I was to hold my hand. And you, 
 Watson, see what comes of abandoning your 
 charge! But, by Heaven, if the worst has hap- 
 pened, we'll avenge him! " 
 
 Blindly we ran through the gloom, blundering 
 against boulders, forcing our way through gorse 
 bushes, panting up hills and rushing down slopes, 
 heading always in the direction whence those dread- 
 ful sounds had come. At every rise Holmes looked 
 eagerly round him, but the shadows were thick up- 
 on the moor, and nothing moved upon its dreary 
 face. 
 
 " Can you see anything? " 
 "Nothing." 
 
 " But, hark, what is that? " 
 A low moan had fallen upon our ears. There it 
 
 190 
 
DEATH ON THE MOOR 
 
 was again upon our left! On that side a ridge of 
 rocks ended in a sheer cliff which overlooked a 
 stone-strewn slope. On its jagged face was spread- 
 eagled some dark, irregular object. As we ran 
 towards it the vague outline hardened into a defi- 
 nite shape. It was a prostrate man face downwards 
 upon the ground, the head doubled under him at 
 a horrible angle, the shoulders rounded and the 
 body hunched together as if in the act of throwing 
 a summersault. So grotesque was the attitude that 
 I could not for the instant realise that that moan 
 had been the passing of his soul. Not a whisper, 
 not a rustle, rose now from the dark figure over 
 which we stooped. Holmes laid his hand upon 
 him, and held it up again, with an exclamation of 
 horror. The gleam of the match which he struck 
 shone upon his clotted fingers and upon the ghastly 
 pool which widened slowly from the crushed skull 
 of the victim. And it shone upon something else 
 which turned our hearts sick and faint within us — 
 the body of Sir Henry Baskerville! 
 
 There was no chance of either of us forgetting 
 that peculiar ruddy tweed suit — the very one which 
 he had worn on the first morning that we had seen 
 him in Baker Street. We caught the one clear 
 glimpse of it, and then the match flickered and went 
 out, even as the hope had gone out of our souls. 
 Holmes groaned, and his face glimmered white 
 through the darkness. 
 
 The brute! the brute! " I cried, with clenched 
 
 191 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 hands. " Oh, Holmes, I shall never forgive myself 
 for having left him to his fate." 
 
 " I am more to blame than you, Watson. In or- 
 der to have my case well rounded and complete, I 
 have thrown away the life of my client. It is the 
 greatest blow which has befallen me in my career. 
 But how could I know — how could I know — that 
 he would risk his life alone upon the moor in the 
 face of all my warnings? " 
 
 " That we should have heard his screams — my 
 God, those screams! — and yet have been unable to 
 save him! Where is this brute of a hound which 
 drove him to his death? It may be lurking among 
 these rocks at this instant. And Stapleton, where 
 is he? He shall answer for this deed." 
 
 " He shall. I will see to that. Uncle and 
 nephew have been murdered — the one frightened to 
 death by the very sight of a beast which he thought 
 to be supernatural, the other driven to his end in 
 his wild flight to escape from it. But now we have 
 to prove the connection between the man and the 
 beast. Save from what we heard, we cannot even 
 swear to the existence of the latter, since Sir Henry 
 has evidently died from the fall. But, by heavens, 
 cunning as he is, the fellow shall be in my power 
 before another day is past ! " 
 
 We stood with bitter hearts on either side of the 
 mangled body, overwhelmed by this sudden and ir- 
 revocable disaster which had brought all our long 
 and weary labours to so piteous an end. Then, as 
 
 192 
 
Ic was a prostrate man, face downwards. 
 
DEATH ON THE MOOR 
 
 the moon rose, we climbed to the top of the rocks 
 over which our poor friend had fallen, and from the 
 summit we gazed out over the shadowy moor, half 
 silver and half gloom. Far away, miles of?, in the 
 direction of Grimpen, a single steady yellow light 
 was shining. It could only come from the lonely 
 abode of the Stapletons. With a bitter curse I 
 shook my fist at it as I gazed. 
 
 " Why should we not seize him at once? " 
 
 " Our case is not complete. The fellow is wary 
 and cunning to the last degree. It is not what we 
 know, but what we can prove. If we make one 
 false move the villain may escape us yet." 
 
 " What can we do? 
 
 " There will be plenty for us to do to-morrow. 
 To-night we can only perform the last offices to our 
 poor friend." 
 
 Together we made our way down the precipitous 
 slope and approached the body, black and clear 
 against the silvered stones. The agony of those 
 contorted limbs struck me with a spasm of pain and 
 blurred my eyes with tears. 
 
 "We must send for help. Holmes! We cannot 
 carry him all the way to the Hall. Good heavens, 
 are you mad? " 
 
 He had uttered a cry and bent over the body. 
 Now he was dancing and laughing and wringing my 
 hand. Could this be my stern, self-contained 
 friend? These were hidden fires, indeed! 
 
 ''A beard ! A beard ! The man has a beard I " 
 
 193 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 "A beard?'' 
 
 " It is not the baronet — it is — ^why, it is my 
 neighbour, the convict! " 
 
 With feverish haste we had turned the body over, 
 and that dripping beard was pointing up to the cold, 
 clear moon. There could be no doubt about the 
 beetling forehead, the sunken animal eyes. It was, 
 indeed, the same face which had glared upon me 
 in the light of the candle from over the rock — the 
 face of Selden, the criminal. 
 
 Then in an instant it was all clear to me. I re- 
 membered how the baronet had told me that he 
 had handed his old wardrobe to Barrymore. Bar- 
 rymore had passed it on in order to help Selden 
 in his escape. Boots, shirt, cap — it was all Sir 
 Henry's. The tragedy was still black enough, but 
 this man had at least deserved death by the laws 
 of his country. I told Holmes how the matter 
 stood, my heart bubbling over with thankfulness 
 and joy. 
 
 " Then the clothes have been the poor devil's 
 death," said he. " It is clear enough that the 
 hound has been laid on from some article of Sir 
 Henry's — the boot which was abstracted in the 
 hotel, in all probability — and so ran this man down. 
 There is one very singular thing, however: How 
 came Selden, in the darkness, to know that the 
 hound was on his trail? " 
 
 " He heard him." 
 
 "To hear a hound upon the moor would not 
 
 194 
 
DEATH ON THE MOOR 
 
 work a hard man like this convict into such a 
 paroxysm of terror that he would risk recapture by 
 screaming wildly for help. By his cries he must 
 have run a long way after he knew the animal was 
 on his track. How did he know? " 
 
 greater mystery to me is why this hound, 
 
 presuming that all our conjectures are correct " 
 
 I presume nothing." 
 " Well, then, why this hound should be loose to- 
 night. I suppose that it does not always run loose 
 upon the moor. Stapleton would not let it go un- 
 less he had reason to think that Sir Henry would 
 be there." 
 
 " My difficulty is the more formidable of the two, 
 for I think that we shall very shortly get an ex- 
 planation of yours, while mine may remain for ever 
 a mystery. The question now is, what shall we do 
 with this poor wretch's body? We cannot leave it 
 here to the foxes and the ravens." 
 
 I suggest that we put it in one of the huts un- 
 til we can communicate with the police." 
 
 " Exactly. I have no doubt that you and I could 
 carry it so far. Halloa, . Watson, what's this? It's 
 the man himself, by all that's wonderful and auda- 
 cious ! Not a word to show your suspicions — not a 
 word, or my plans crumble to the ground." 
 
 A figure was approaching us over the moor, and 
 I saw the dull red glow of a cigar. The moon 
 shone upon him, and I could distinguish the 
 dapper shape and jaunty walk of the naturalist. 
 
 195 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 He stopped when he saw us, and then came on 
 again. 
 
 ''Why, Dr. Watson, that's not you, is it? You 
 are the last man that I should have expected to 
 see out on the moor at this time of night. But, 
 dear me, what's this? Somebody hurt? Not — 
 don't tell me that it is our friend Sir Henry! " He 
 hurried past me and stooped over the dead man. 
 I heard a sharp intake of his breath and the cigar 
 fell from his fingers. 
 
 " Who — who's this? " he stammered. 
 
 " It is Selden, the man who escaped from Prince- 
 town." 
 
 Stapleton turned a ghastly face upon us, but by 
 a supreme effort he had overcome his amazement 
 and his disappointment. He looked sharply from 
 Holmes to me. 
 
 Dear me! What a very shocking affair! How 
 did he die? " 
 
 *' He appears to have broken his neck by falling 
 over these rocks. My friend and I were strolling 
 on the moor when we heard a cry." 
 
 '' I heard a cry also. That was what brought me 
 out. I was uneasy about Sir Henry." 
 
 " Why about Sir Henry in particular? " I could 
 not help asking. 
 
 " Because I had suggested that he should come 
 over. When he did not come I was surprised, and 
 I naturally became alarmed for his safety when I 
 heard cries upon the moor. By the way " — ^his eyes 
 
 196 
 
DEATH ON THE MOOR 
 
 darted again from my face to Holmes's — " did you 
 hear anything else besides a cry? 
 
 " No/' said Holmes; " did you? " 
 
 "No/' 
 
 What do you mean, then? " 
 
 Oh, you know the stories that the peasants tell 
 about a phantom hound, and so on. It is said to 
 be heard at night upon the moor. I was wondering 
 if there were any evidence of such a sound to- 
 night." 
 
 " We heard nothing of the kind,'' said L 
 " And what is your theory of this poor fellow's 
 death?" 
 
 " I have no doubt that anxiety and exposure 
 have driven him off his head. He has rushed about 
 the moor in a crazy state and eventually fallen over 
 here and broken his neck." 
 
 " That seems the most reasonable theory," said 
 Stapleton, and he gave a sigh which I took to indi- 
 cate his relief. What do you think about it, Mr. 
 Sherlock Holmes? " 
 
 My friend bowed his compliments. 
 
 " You are quick at identification," said he. 
 
 " We have been expecting you in these parts 
 since Dr. Watson came down. You are in time to 
 see a tragedy." 
 
 " Yes, indeed. I have no doubt that my friend's 
 explanation will cover the facts. I will take an un- 
 pleasant remembrance back to London with me to- 
 morrow.'* 
 
 197 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " Oh, you return to-morrow? 
 That is my intention." 
 
 " I hope your visit has cast some light upon those 
 occurrences which have puzzled us? " 
 
 Holmes shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " One cannot always have the success for which 
 one hopes. An investigator needs facts, and not 
 legends or rumours. It has not been a satisfactory 
 case.'' 
 
 My friend spoke in his frankest and most uncon- 
 cerned manner. Stapleton still looked hard at him. 
 Then he turned to me. 
 
 " I would suggest carrying this poor fellow to 
 my house, but it would give my sister such a fright 
 that I do not feel justified in doing it. I think that 
 if we put something over his face he will be safe 
 until morning.'* 
 
 And so it was arranged. Resisting Stapleton's 
 offer of hospitality, Holmes and I set ofif to Basker- 
 ville Hall, leaving the naturalist to return alone. 
 Looking back we saw the figure moving slowly 
 away over the broad moor, and behind him that one 
 black smudge on the silvered slope which showed 
 where the man was lying who had come so horribly 
 to his end. 
 
 198 
 
XIII 
 
 Fixing the Nets 
 
 E'RE at close grips at last/' said 
 Holmes, as we walked together across 
 the moor. What a nerve the fellow 
 
 has! How he pulled himself together in the face 
 of what must have been a paralyzing shock when he 
 found that the wrong man had fallen a victim to his 
 plot. I told you in London, Watson, and I tell you 
 now again, that we have never had a foeman more 
 worthy of our steel." 
 
 " I am sorry that he has seen you." 
 
 "And so was I at first. But there was no get- 
 ting out of it." 
 
 " What effect do you think it will have upon his 
 plans, now that he knows you are here? " 
 
 It may cause him to be more cautious, or it may 
 drive him to desperate measures at once. Like 
 most clever criminals, he may be too confident in 
 his own cleverness and imagine that he has com- 
 pletely deceived us." 
 
 " Why should we not arrest him at once? " 
 
 " My dear Watson, yoti were born to be a man 
 of action. Your instinct is always to do something 
 energetic. But supposing, for argument's sake, 
 that we had him arrested to-night, what on earth 
 
 199 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 the better off should we be for that? We could 
 prove nothing against him. There's the devilish 
 cunning of it! If he were acting through a human 
 agent we could get some evidence, but if we were 
 to drag this great dog to the light of day it would 
 not help us in putting a rope round the neck of its 
 master/' 
 
 " Surely we have a case.'* 
 
 " Not a shadow of one — only surmise and con- 
 jecture. We should be laughed out of court if we 
 came with such a story and such evidence.'' 
 
 " There is Sir Charles's death." 
 
 " Found dead without a mark upon him. You 
 and I know that he died of sheer fright, and we 
 know also what frightened him; but how are we to 
 get twelve stolid jurymen to know it? What signs 
 are there of a hound? Where are the marks of its 
 fangs? Of course, we know that a hound does not 
 bite a dead body and that Sir Charles was dead be- 
 fore ever the brute overtook him. But we have 
 to prove all this, and w;e are not in a position to 
 do it." 
 
 " Well, then, to-night? " 
 
 " We are not much better off to-night. Again, 
 there was no direct connection between the hound 
 and the man's death. We never saw the hound. 
 We heard it; but we could not prove that it was 
 running upon this man's trail. There is a complete 
 absence of motive. No, my dear fellow; we must 
 reconcile ourselves to the fact that we have no case 
 
 200 
 
FIXING THE NETS 
 
 at present, and that it is worth our while to run 
 any risk in order to establish one." 
 
 " And how do you propose to do so? 
 
 " I have great hopes of what Mrs. Laura Lyons 
 may do for us when the position of affairs is made 
 clear to her. And I have my own plan as well. 
 Sufficient for to-morrow is the evil thereof; but I 
 hope before the day is past to have the upper hand 
 at last." 
 
 I could draw nothing further from him, and he 
 walked, lost in thought, as far as the Baskerville 
 gates. 
 
 " Are you coming up? " 
 
 "Yes; I see no reason for further concealment. 
 But one last word, Watson. Say nothing of the 
 hound to Sir Henry. Let him think that Selden's 
 death was as Stapleton would have us believe. He 
 will have a better nerve for the ordeal which he will 
 have to undergo to-morrow, when he is engaged, 
 if I remember your report aright, to dine with these 
 people." 
 
 " And so am L" 
 
 " Then you must excuse yourself and he must 
 go alone. That will be easily arranged. And now, 
 if we are too late for dinner, I think that we are 
 both ready for our suppers." 
 
 Sir Henry was more pleased than surprised to see 
 Sherlock Holmes, for he had for some days been 
 expecting that recent events would bring him down 
 from London. He did raise his eyebrows, however, 
 
 201 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 when he found that my friend had neither any lug- 
 gage nor any explanations for its absence. Be- 
 tween us we soon supplied his wants, and then over 
 a belated supper we explained to the baronet as 
 much of our experience as it seemed desirable that 
 he should know. But first I had the unpleasant 
 duty of breaking the news to Barrymore and his 
 wife. To him it may have been an unmitigated re- 
 lief, but she wept bitterly in her apron. To all the 
 world he was the man of violence, half animal and 
 half demon; but to her he always remained the little 
 wilful boy of her own girlhood, the child who had 
 clung to her hand. Evil indeed is the man who 
 has not one woman to mourn him. 
 
 IVe been moping in the house all day since 
 Watson went off in the morning,'' said the baronet. 
 
 I guess I should have some credit, for I have kept 
 my promise. If I hadn't sworn not to go about 
 alone I might have had a more lively evening, for I 
 had a message from Stapleton asking me over 
 there." 
 
 " I have no doubt that you would have had a 
 more lively evening," said Holmes, drily. " By the 
 way, I don't suppose you appreciate that we have 
 been mourning over you as having broken your 
 neck? " 
 
 Sir Henry opened his eyes. " How was that? " 
 This poor wretch was dressed in your clothes. 
 I fear your servant who gave them to him may get 
 into trouble with the police." 
 
 202 
 
FIXING THE NETS 
 
 " That is unlikely. There was no mark on any 
 of them, as far as I know/' 
 
 " That's lucky for him — in fact, it's lucky for all 
 of you, since you are all on the wrong side of the 
 law in this matter. I am not sure that as a con- 
 scientious detective my first duty is not to arrest 
 the whole household. Watson's reports are most 
 incriminating documents." 
 
 " But how about the case? " asked the baronet. 
 
 Have you made anything out of the tangle? I 
 don't know that Watson and I are much the wiser 
 since we came down." 
 
 I think that I shall be in a position to make the 
 situation rather more clear to you before long. It 
 has been an exceedingly difficult and most compli- 
 cated business. There are several points upon 
 which we still want light — but it is coming all the 
 same." 
 
 We've had one experience, as Watson has no 
 doubt told you. We heard the hound on the moor, 
 so I can swear that it is not all empty superstition. 
 I had something to do with dogs when I was out 
 West, and I know one when I hear one. If you can 
 muzzle that one and put him on a chain I'll be ready 
 to swear you are the greatest detective of all time." 
 
 " I think I will muzzle him and chain him all 
 right if you will give me your help." 
 
 " Whatever you tell me to do I will do." 
 
 "Very good; and I will ask you also to do it 
 blindly, without always asking the reason." 
 
 203 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Just as you like/' 
 " If you will do this I think the chances are that 
 our little problem will soon be solved. I have no 
 doubt — ~" 
 
 He stopped suddenly and stared fixedly up over 
 my head into the air. The lamp beat upon his face, 
 and so intent was it and so still that it might have 
 been that of a clear-cut classical statue, a personifi- 
 cation of alertness and expectation. 
 
 "What is it? ''we both cried. 
 
 I could see as he looked down that he was re- 
 pressing some internal emotion. His features were 
 still composed, but his eyes shone with amused ex- 
 ultation. 
 
 " Excuse the admiration of a connoisseur," said 
 he, as he waved his hand towards the line of por- 
 traits which covered the opposite wall. " Watson 
 won't allow that I know anything of art, but that is 
 mere jealousy, because our views upon the subject 
 differ. Now, these are a really very fine series of 
 portraits." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad to hear you say so," said Sir 
 Henry, glancing with some surprise at my friend. 
 " I don't pretend to know much about these things, 
 and I'd be a better judge of a horse or a steer than 
 of a picture. I didn't know that you found time for 
 such things." 
 
 " I know what is good when I see it, and I see 
 it now. That's a Kneller, I'll swear, that lady in 
 the blue silk over yonder, and the stout gentleman 
 
 204 
 
FIXING THE NETS 
 
 with the wig ought to be a Reynolds. They are all 
 family portraits, I presume? 
 Every one." 
 
 " Do you know the names? " 
 
 " Barrymore has been coaching me in them, and 
 I think I can say my lessons fairly well." 
 
 " Who is the gentleman with the telescope? " 
 
 " That is Rear-Admiral Baskerville, who served 
 under Rodney in the West Indies. The man with 
 the blue coat and the roll of paper is Sir William 
 Baskerville, who was Chairman of Committees of 
 the House of Commons under Pitt." 
 
 " And this Cavalier opposite to me — the one with 
 the black velvet and the lace? " 
 
 " Ah, you have a right to know about him. That 
 is the cause of all the mischief, the wicked Hugo, 
 who started the Hound of the Baskervilles. We're 
 not likely to forget him." 
 
 I gazed with interest and some surprise upon the 
 portrait. 
 
 "Dear me!" said Holmes, "he seems a quiet, 
 meek-mannered man enough, but I daresay that 
 there was a lurking devil in his eyes. I had pict- 
 ured him as a more robust and ruffianly person." 
 
 " There's no doubt about the authenticity, for the 
 name and the date, 1647, on the back of the 
 canvas." 
 
 Holmes said little more, but the picture of the 
 old roysterer seemed to have a fascination for him, 
 and his eyes were continually fixed upon it during 
 
 205 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 supper. It was not until later, when Sir Henry had 
 gone to his room, that I was able to follow the 
 trend of his thoughts. He led me back into the 
 banqueting-hall, his bedroom candle in his hand, 
 and he held it up against the time-stained portrait 
 on the wall. 
 
 Do you see anything there? " 
 
 I looked at the broad plumed hat, the curling 
 love-locks, the white lace collar, and the straight, 
 severe face which was framed between them. It 
 was not a brutal countenance, but it was prim, hard, 
 and stern, with a firm-set, thin-lipped mouth, and 
 a coldly intolerant eye. 
 
 " Is it like anyone you know? " 
 
 " There is something of Sir Henry about the 
 jaw. 
 
 "Just a suggestion, perhaps. But wait an in- 
 stant!'' He stood upon a chair, and holding up 
 the light in his left hand he curved his right arm 
 over the broad hat and round the long ringlets. 
 
 " Good heavens! " I cried, in amazement. 
 
 The face of Stapleton had sprung out of the can- 
 vas. 
 
 " Ha, you see it now. My eyes have been trained 
 to examine faces and not their trimmings. It is the 
 first quality of a criminal investigator that he should 
 see through a disguise." 
 
 But this is marvellous. It might be his por- 
 trait." 
 
 " Yes, it is an interesting instance of a throw- 
 
 206 
 
He stood upon a chair, and curved his right arm 
 over the broad hat and round the 
 long; rindets. 
 
FIXING THE NETS 
 
 back, which appears to be both physical and spir- 
 itual. A study of family portraits is enough to con- 
 vert a man to the doctrine of reincarnation. The 
 fellow is a Baskerville — that is evident." 
 With designs upon the succession." 
 
 " Exactly. This chance of the picture has sup- 
 plied us with one of our most obvious missing links. 
 We have him, Watson, we have him, and I dare 
 swear that before to-morrow night he will be flut- 
 tering in our net as helpless as one of his own but- 
 terflies. 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 have not heard him laugh of- 
 ten, and it has always boded ill to somebody. 
 
 I was up betimes in the morning, but Holmes 
 was afoot earlier still, for I saw him as I dressed 
 coming up the drive. 
 
 " Yes, we should have a full day to-day," he re- 
 marked, and he rubbed his hands with the joy of 
 action. " The nets are all in place, and the drag 
 is about to begin. We'll know before the day is out 
 whether we have caught our big, lean-jawed pike, 
 or whether he has got through the meshes." 
 
 " Have you been on the moor already? " 
 
 " I have sent a report from Grimpen to Prince- 
 town as to the death of Selden. I think I can 
 promise that none of you will be troubled in the 
 matter. And I have also communicated with my 
 faithful Cartwright, who would certainly have pined 
 
 207 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BA8KERVILLES 
 
 away at the door of my hut, as a dog does at his 
 master's grave, if I had not set his mind at rest about 
 my safety." 
 
 " What is the next move? 
 
 " To see Sir Henry. Ah, here he is! 
 Good morning. Holmes,'' said the baronet. 
 " You look like a general who is planning a battle 
 with his chief of the staff." 
 
 " That is the exact situation. Watson was ask- 
 ing for orders." 
 
 " And so do I." 
 
 " Very good. You are engaged, as I under- 
 stand, to dine with our friends the Stapletons to- 
 night." 
 
 " I hope that you will come also. They are very 
 hospitable people, and I am sure that they would 
 be very glad to see you." 
 
 " I fear that Watson and I must go to London." 
 
 ^^To London?" 
 
 " Yes, I think that we should be more useful 
 there at the present juncture." 
 
 The baronet's face perceptibly lengthened. 
 
 " I hoped that you were going to see me through 
 this business. The Hall and the moor are not very 
 pleasant places when one is alone." 
 
 " My dear fellow, you must trust me implicitly 
 and do exactly what I tell you. You can tell your 
 friends that we should have been happy to have 
 come with you, but that urgent business required us 
 to be in town. We hope very soon to return to 
 
 208 
 
FIXING THE NETS 
 
 Devonshire. Will you remember to give them that 
 message? " 
 
 " If you insist upon it/* 
 
 " There is no alternative, I assure you." 
 
 I saw by the baronet's clouded brow that he was 
 deeply hurt by what he regarded as our desertion. 
 
 " When do you desire to go? " he asked, coldly. 
 
 " Immediately after breakfast. We will drive in 
 to Coombe Tracey, but Watson will leave his things 
 as a pledge that he will come back to you. Wat- 
 son, you will send a note to Stapleton to tell him 
 that you regret that you cannot come." 
 
 " I have a good mind to go to London with you," 
 said the baronet. "Why should I stay here alone?" 
 
 " Because it is your post of duty. Because you 
 gave me your word that you would do as you were 
 told, and I tell you to stay." 
 
 " All right, then, Til stay." 
 One more direction ! I wish you to drive to 
 Merripit House. Send back your trap, however, 
 and let them know that you intend to walk home." 
 
 " To walk across the moor? " 
 Yes." 
 
 " But that is the very thing which you have so 
 often cautioned me not to do." 
 
 " This time you may do it with safety. If I had 
 not every confidence in your nerve and courage I 
 would not suggest it, but it is essential that you 
 should do it." 
 
 " Then I will do it/' 
 
 209 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 " And as you value your life do not go across the 
 moor in any direction save along the straight path 
 which leads from Merripit House to the Grimpen 
 Road, and is your natural way home." 
 
 " I will do just what you say." 
 Very good. I should be glad to get away as 
 soon after breakfast as possible, so as to reach Lon- 
 don in the afternoon." 
 
 I was much astounded by this programme, 
 though I remembered that Holmes had said to Sta- 
 pleton on the night before that his visit would 
 terminate next day. It had not crossed my mind, 
 however, that he would wish me to go with him, 
 nor could I understand how we could both be ab- 
 sent at a moment which he himself declared to be 
 critical. There was nothing for it, however, but 
 implicit obedience; so we bade good-bye to our rue- 
 ful friend, and a couple of hours afterwards we were 
 at the station of Coombe Tracey and had dispatched 
 the trap upon its return journey. A small boy was 
 waiting upon the platform. 
 
 " Any orders, sir? " 
 
 " You will take this train to town, Cartwright. 
 The moment you arrive you will send a wire to Sir 
 Henry Baskerville, in my name, to say that if he 
 finds the pocket-book which I have dropped he is 
 to send it by registered post to Baker Street." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And ask at the station office if there is a mes- 
 sage for me." 
 
 2IO 
 
FIXING THE NETS 
 
 The boy returned with a telegram, which Holmes 
 handed to me. It ran: ''Wire received. Coming 
 down with unsigned warrant. Arrive five-forty. — 
 Lestrade." 
 
 That is in answer to mine of this morning. He 
 is the best of the professionals, I think, and we may 
 need his assistance. Now, Watson, I think that we 
 cannot employ our time better than by calling upon 
 your acquaintance, Mrs. Laura Lyons." 
 
 His plan of campaign was beginning to be evi- 
 dent. He would use the baronet in order to con- 
 vince the Stapletons that we were really gone, while 
 we should actually return at the instant when we 
 were likely to be needed. That telegram from 
 London, if mentioned by Sir Henry to the Staple- 
 tons, must remove the last suspicions from their 
 minds. Already I seemed to see our nets drawing 
 closer round that lean-jawed pike. 
 
 Mrs. Laura Lyons was in her office, and Sherlock 
 Holmes opened his interview with a frankness and 
 directness which considerably amazed her. 
 
 " I am investigating the circumstances which at- 
 tended the death of the late Sir Charles Basker- 
 ville," said he. " My friend here, Dr. Watson, has 
 informed me of what you have communicated, and 
 also of what you have withheld in connection with 
 that matter." 
 
 "What have I withheld?" she asked, defiantly. 
 
 " You have confessed that you asked Sir Charles 
 to be at the gate at ten o'clock. We know that 
 
 • Zll 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 that was the place and hour of his death. You have 
 withheld what the connection is between these 
 events/' 
 
 " There is no connection." 
 
 " In that case the coincidence must indeed be an 
 extraordinary one. But I think that we shall suc- 
 ceed in establishing a connection after all. I wish 
 to be perfectly frank with you, Mrs. Lyons. We 
 regard this case as one of murder, and the evidence 
 may implicate not only your friend Mr. Stapleton, 
 but his wife as well." 
 
 The lady sprang from her chair. 
 His wife! " she cried. 
 
 " The fact is no longer a secret. The person 
 who has passed for his sister is really his wife." 
 
 Mrs. Lyons had resumed her seat. Her hands 
 were grasping the arms of her chair, and I saw that 
 the pink nails had turned white with the pressure 
 of her grip. 
 
 "His wife!" she said, again. "His wife! He 
 is not a married man." 
 
 Sherlock Holmes shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Prove it to me! Prove it to me! And if you 
 
 can do so ! " The fierce flash of her eyes said 
 
 more than any words. 
 
 " I have come prepared to do so," said Holmes, 
 drawing several papers from his pocket. " Here is 
 a photograph of the couple taken in York four 
 years ago. It is indorsed ^ Mr. and Mrs. Vande- 
 leur,' but you will have no difficulty in recognising 
 
 213 
 
FIXING THE NETS 
 
 him, and her also, if you know her by sight. Here 
 are three written descriptions by trustworthy wit- 
 nesses of Mr. and Mrs. Vandeleur, who at that time 
 kept St. Oliver's private school. Read them, and 
 see if you can doubt the identity of these people.'' 
 
 She glanced at them, and then looked up at us 
 with the set, rigid face of a desperate woman. 
 
 " Mr. Holmes," she said, " this man had offered 
 me marriage on condition that I could get a divorce 
 from my husband. He has lied to me, the villain, 
 in every conceivable way. Not one word of truth 
 has he ever told me. And why — why? I imag- 
 ined that all was for my own sake. But now I see 
 that I was never anything but a tool in his hands. 
 Why should I preserve faith with him who never 
 kept any with me? Why should I try to shield him 
 from the consequences of his own wicked acts? 
 Ask me what you like, and there is nothing which 
 I shall hold back. One thing I swear to you, and 
 that is, that when I wrote the letter I never dreamed 
 of any harm to the old gentleman, who had been 
 my kindest friend." 
 
 " I entirely believe you, madam," said Sherlock 
 Holmes. The recital of these events must be 
 very painful to you, and perhaps it will make it 
 easier if I tell you what occurred, and you can check 
 me if I make any material mistake. The sending 
 of this letter was suggested to you by Stapleton? " 
 
 " He dictated it." 
 I presume that the reason he gave was that you 
 
 213 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 would receive help from Sir Charles for the legal 
 expenses connected with your divorce? 
 " Exactly." 
 
 And then after you had sent the letter he dis- 
 suaded you from keeping the appointment?'' 
 
 He told me that it would hurt his self-respect 
 that any other man should find the money for such 
 an object, and that though he was a poor man him- 
 self he would devote his last penny to removing the 
 obstacles which divided us." 
 
 He appears to be a very consistent character. 
 And then you heard nothing until you read the re- 
 ports of the death in the paper? " 
 " No." 
 
 And he made you swear to say nothing about 
 your appointment with Sir Charles? " 
 
 He did. He said that the death was a very 
 mysterious one, and that I should certainly be sus- 
 pected if the facts came out. He frightened me 
 into remaining silent." 
 
 Quite so. But you had your suspicions? " 
 She hesitated and looked down. 
 " I knew him," she said. " But if he had kept 
 faith with me I should always have done so with 
 him." 
 
 " I think that on the whole you have had a fortu- 
 nate escape," said Sherlock Holmes. You have 
 had him in your power and he knew it, and yet you 
 are alive. You have been walking for some months 
 very near to the edge of a precipice. We must 
 
 214 
 
FIXING THE NETS 
 
 wish you good morning now, Mrs. Lyons, and it is 
 probable that you will very shortly hear from us 
 again." 
 
 " Our case becomes rounded ofif, and difficulty 
 after difficulty thins away in front of us," said 
 Holmes, as we stood waiting for the arrival of the 
 express from town. I shall soon be in the posi- 
 tion of being able to put into a single connected 
 narrative one of the most singular and sensational 
 crimes of m_odern times. Students of criminology 
 will remember the analogous incidents in Godno, 
 in Little Russia, in the year '66, and of course there 
 are the Anderson miurders in North Carolina, but 
 this case possesses some features which are entirely 
 its ov/n. Even now we have no clear case against 
 this very wily man. But I shall be very much sur- 
 prised if it is not clear enough before we go to bed 
 this night." 
 
 The London express came roaring into the sta- 
 tion, and a small, wiry bulldog of a man had sprung 
 from a first-class carriage. We all three shook 
 hands, and I saw at once from the reverential way 
 in which Lestrade gazed at my companion that he 
 had learned a good deal since the days when they 
 had first worked together. I could well remember 
 the scorn which the theories of the reasoner used 
 then to excite in the practical man. 
 
 " Anything good? " he asked. 
 
 " The biggest thing for years," said Holmes, 
 " We have two hours before we need think of start- 
 
 215 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 ing. I think we might employ it in getting some 
 dinner, and then, Lestrade, we will take the London 
 fog out of your throat by giving you a breath of 
 the pure night air of Dartmoor. Never been there? 
 Ah, well, I don't suppose you will forget your first 
 visit/' 
 
XIV 
 
 The Hound of the Baskervilles 
 
 ONE of Sherlock Holmes's defects — if, in- 
 deed, one may call it a defect — was that he 
 was exceedingly loth to communicate his 
 full plans to any other person until the instant of 
 their fulfilment. Partly it came no doubt from his 
 own masterful nature, which loved to dominate and 
 surprise those who were around him. Partly also 
 from his professional caution, which urged him 
 never to take any chances. The result, however, 
 was very trying for those who were acting as his 
 agents and assistants. I had often suffered under 
 it, but never more so than during that long drive in 
 the darkness. The great ordeal was in front of us; 
 at last we were about to make our final effort, and 
 yet Holmes had said nothing, and I could only sur- 
 mise what his course of action would be. My 
 nerves thrilled with anticipation when at last the 
 cold wind upon our faces and the dark, void spaces 
 on either side of the narrow road told me that we 
 were back upon the moor once again. Every stride 
 of the horses and every turn of the wheels was tak- 
 ing us nearer to our supreme adventure. 
 
 Our conversation was hampered by the presence 
 of the driver of the hired wagonette, so that we were 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 forced to talk of trivial matters when our nerves 
 were tense with emotion and anticipation. It was a 
 relief to me, after that unnatural restraint, when we 
 at last passed Frankland's house and knew that we 
 were drawing near to the Hall and to the scene of 
 action. We did not drive up to the door, but got 
 down near the gate of the avenue. The wagonette 
 was paid off and ordered to return to Coombe 
 Tracey forthwith, while we started to walk to Mer- 
 ripit House. 
 
 " Are you armed, Lestrade? " 
 
 The little detective smiled. 
 
 "As long as I have my trousers I have a hip- 
 pocket, and as long as I have my hip-pocket I have 
 something in it." 
 
 ''Good! My friend and I are also ready for 
 emergencies." 
 
 " You're mighty close about this affair, Mr. 
 Holmes. What's the game now? " 
 
 " A waiting game." 
 
 " My word, it does not seem a very cheerful 
 place," said the detective, with a shiver, glancing 
 round him at the gloomy slopes of the hill and 
 at the huge lake of fog which lay over the Grim- 
 pen Mire. " I see the lights of a house ahead of 
 us." 
 
 " That is Merripit House and the end of our jour- 
 ney. I must request you to walk on tiptoe and 
 not to talk above a whisper." 
 
 We moved cautiously along the track as if we 
 
 218 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 were bound for the house, but Holmes halted us 
 when we were about two hundred yards from it. 
 
 This will do/' said he. " These rocks upon the 
 right make an admirable screen." 
 We are to wait here? 
 " Yes, we shall make our little ambush here. Get 
 into this hollow, Lestrade. You have been inside 
 the house, have you not, Watson? Can you tell 
 the position of the rooms? What are those latticed 
 windows at this end? " 
 
 " I think they are the kitchen windows.'' 
 " And the one beyond, which shines so bright- 
 ly?" 
 
 " That is certainly the dining-room." 
 
 " The blinds are up. You know the lie of the 
 land best. Creep forward quietly and see what they 
 are doing — but for heaven's sake don't let them 
 know that they are watched! " 
 
 I tiptoed down the path and stooped behind the 
 low wall which surrounded the stunted orchard. 
 Creeping in its shadow I reached a point whence I 
 could look straight through the uncurtained win- 
 dow. 
 
 There were only two men in the room, Sir Henry 
 and Stapleton. They sat with their profiles tow- 
 ards me on either side of the round table. Both of 
 them were smoking cigars, and coffee and wine were 
 in front of them. Stapleton was talking with ani- 
 mation, but the baronet looked pale and distrait. 
 Perhaps the thought of that lonely walk across the 
 
 219 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 ill-omened moor was weighing heavily upon his 
 mind. 
 
 As I watched them Stapleton rose and left the 
 room, while Sir Henry filled his glass again and 
 leaned back in his chair, puffing at his cigar. I 
 heard the creak of a door and the crisp sound of 
 boots upon gravel. The steps passed along the 
 path on the other side of the wall under which I 
 crouched. Looking over, I saw the naturalist 
 pause at the door of an out-house in the corner of 
 the orchard. A key turned in a lock, and as he 
 passed in there was a curious scuffling noise from 
 within. He was only a minute or so inside, and 
 then I heard the key turn once more and he passed 
 me and re-entered the house. I saw him rejoin his 
 guest, and I crept quietly back to where my com- 
 panions were waiting to tell them what I had 
 seen. 
 
 " You say, Watson, that the lady is not there? 
 Holmes asked, when I had finished my report. 
 " No." 
 
 " Where can she be, then, since there is no light 
 in any other room except the kitchen? 
 
 " I cannot think where she is." 
 
 I have said that over the great Grimpen Mire 
 there hung a dense, white fog. It was drifting 
 slowly in our direction and banked itself up like a 
 wall on that side of us, low, but thick and well de- 
 fined. The moon shone on it, and it looked like a 
 great shimmering icefield, with the heads of the 
 
 220 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 distant tors as rocks borne upon its surface. 
 Holmes's face was turned towards it, and he mut- 
 tered impatiently as he watched its sluggish drift. 
 
 " It's moving towards us, Watson." 
 
 " Is that serious? " 
 
 " Very serious, indeed — the one thing upon earth 
 which could have disarranged my plans. He can't 
 be very long, now. It is already ten o'clock. Our 
 success and even his life may depend upon his com- 
 ing out before the fog is over the path." 
 
 The night was clear and fine above us. The 
 stars shone cold and bright, while a half-moon 
 bathed the whole scene in a soft, uncertain light. 
 Before us lay the dark bulk of the house, its serrated 
 roof and bristling chimneys hard outlined against 
 the silver-spangled sky. Broad bars of golden light 
 from the lower windows stretched across the 
 orchard and the moor. One of them was suddenly 
 shut off. The servants had left the kitchen. There 
 only remained the lamp in the dining-room where 
 the two men, the murderous host and the uncon- 
 scious guest, still chatted over their cigars. 
 
 Every minute that white woolly plain which cov- 
 ered one half of the moor was drifting closer and 
 closer to the house. Already the first thin wisps of 
 it were curling across the golden square of the 
 lighted window. The farther wall of the orchard 
 was already invisible, and the trees were standing 
 out of a swirl of white vapour. As we watched it 
 the fog-wreaths came crawling round both corners 
 
 2Zl 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 of the house and rolled slowly into one dense bank, 
 on which the upper floor and the roof floated like 
 a strange ship upon a shadowy sea. Holmes struck 
 his hand passionately upon the rock in front of us, 
 and stamped his feet in his impatience. 
 
 " If he isn't out in a quarter of an hour the path 
 will be covered. In half an hour we won't be able 
 to see our hands in front of us." 
 
 Shall we move farther back upon higher 
 ground? " 
 
 Yes, I think it would be as well." 
 
 So as the fog-bank flowed onwards we fell back 
 before it until we were half a mile from the house, 
 and still that dense white sea, with the moon silver- 
 ing its upper edge, swept slowly and inexorably on. 
 
 We are going too far," said Holmes. We 
 dare not take the chance of his being overtaken be- 
 fore he can reach us. At all costs we must hold 
 our ground where we are." He dropped on his 
 knees and clapped his ear to the ground. " Thank 
 God, I think that I hear him coming." 
 
 A sound of quick steps broke the silence of the 
 moor. Crouching among the stones we stared in- 
 tently at the silver-tipped bank in front of us. The 
 steps grew louder, and through the fog, as through 
 a curtain, there stepped the man whom we were 
 awaiting. He looked round him in surprise as he 
 emerged into the clear, star-lit night. Then he 
 came swiftly along the path, passed close to where 
 we lay, and went on up the long slope behind us. 
 
 232 
 
The steps grew louder, and through the fog, as 
 through a curtain, there stepped the man 
 whom we were awaiting. 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 As he walked he glanced continually over either 
 shoulder, like a man who is ill at ease. 
 
 "Hist!" cried Holmes, and I heard the sharp 
 click of a cocking pistol. " Look out! It's com- 
 ing!" 
 
 There was a thin, crisp, continuous patter from 
 somewhere in the heart of that crawling bank. The 
 cloud was within fifty yards of where we lay, and 
 we glared at it, all three, uncertain what horror 
 was about to break from the heart of it. I was at 
 Holmes's elbow, and I glanced for an instant at his 
 face. It was pale and exultant, his eyes shining 
 brightly in the moonlight. But suddenly they 
 started forward in a rigid, fixed stare, and his lips 
 parted in amazement. At the same instant Le- 
 strade gave a yell of terror and threw himself face 
 downwards upon the ground. I sprang to my feet, 
 my inert hand grasping my pistol, my mind par- 
 alyzed by the dreadful shape which had sprung out 
 upon us from the shadows of the fog. A hound it 
 was, an enormous coal-black hound, but not such 
 a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen. Fire burst 
 from its open mouth, its eyes glowed with a smoul- 
 dering glare, its muzzle and hackles and dewlap 
 were outlined in flickering flame. Never in the de- 
 lirious dream of a disordered brain could anything 
 more savage, more appalling, more hellish be con- 
 ceived than that dark form and savage face which 
 broke upon us out of the wall of fog. 
 
 With long bounds the huge black creature was 
 
 223 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 leaping down the track, following hard upon the 
 footsteps of our friend. So paralyzed were we by 
 the apparition that we allowed him to pass before 
 we had recovered our nerve. Then Holmes and I 
 both fired together, and the creature gave a hideous 
 howl, which showed that one at least had hit him. 
 He did not pause, however, but bounded onwards. 
 Far away on the path we saw Sir Henry looking 
 back, his face white in the moonlight, his hands 
 raised in horror, glaring helplessly at the frightful 
 thing which was hunting him down. 
 
 But that cry of pain from the hound had blown 
 all our fears to the winds. If he was vulnerable he 
 was mortal, and if we could wound him we could 
 kill him. Never have I seen a man run as Holmes 
 ran that night. I am reckoned fleet of foot, but he 
 outpaced me as much as I outpaced the little pro- 
 fessional. In front of us as we flew up the track 
 we heard scream after scream from Sir Henry and 
 the deep roar of the hound. I was in time to see 
 the beast spring upon its victim, hurl him to the 
 ground, and worry at his throat. But the next in- 
 stant Holmes had emptied five barrels of his re- 
 volver into the creature's flank. With a last howl 
 of agony and a vicious snap in the air, it rolled upon 
 its back, four feet pawing furiously, and then fell 
 limp upon its side. I stooped, panting, and pressed 
 my pistol to the dreadful, shimmering head, but it 
 was useless to press the trigger. The giant hound 
 was dead. 
 
 224 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 Sir Henry lay insensible where he had fallen. 
 We tore away his collar, and Holmes breathed a 
 prayer of gratitude when we saw that there was no 
 sign of a wound and that the rescue had been in 
 time. Already our friend's eyelids shivered and he 
 made a feeble effort to move. Lestrade thrust his 
 brandy-flask between the baronet's teeth, and two 
 frightened eyes were looking up at us. 
 
 *^My God!" he whispered. What was it? 
 What, in Heaven's name, was it? " 
 
 It's dead, whatever it is," said Holmes. 
 " We've laid the family ghost once and for ever." 
 
 In mere size and strength it was a terrible creat- 
 ure which was lying stretched before us. It was 
 not a pure bloodhound and it was not a pure 
 mastifif; but it appeared to be a combination of the 
 two — gaunt, savage, and as large as a small lioness. 
 Even now, in the stillness of death, the huge jaws 
 seemed to be dripping with a bluish flame and the 
 small, deep-set, cruel eyes were ringed with fire. I 
 placed my hand upon the glowing muzzle, and as 
 I held them up my own fingers smouldered and 
 gleamed in the darkness. 
 Phosphorus," I said. 
 
 " A cunning preparation of it," said Holmes, 
 sniffing at the dead animal. ^' There is no smell 
 which might have interfered with his power of 
 scent. We owe you a deep apology. Sir Henry, 
 for having exposed you to this fright. I was pre- 
 pared for a hound, but not for such a creature as 
 
 . 225 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 this. And the fog gave us little time to receive 
 him/' 
 
 You have saved my life." 
 Having first endangered it. Are you strong 
 enough to stand? 
 
 " Give me another mouthful of that brandy and 
 I shall be ready for anything. So! Now, if you 
 will help me up. What do you propose to do? " 
 
 To leave you here. You are not fit for further 
 adventures to-night. If you will wait, one or other 
 of us will go back with you to the Hall.'' 
 
 He tried to stagger to his feet; but he was still 
 ghastly pale and trembling in every limb. We 
 helped him to a rock, where he sat shivering with 
 his face buried in his hands. 
 
 " We must leave you now," said Holmes. " The 
 rest of our work must be done, and every moment 
 is of importance. We have our case, and now we 
 only want our man. 
 
 It's a thousand to one against our finding him 
 at the house," he continued, as we retraced our 
 steps swiftly down the path. Those shots must 
 have told him that the game was up." 
 
 " We were some distance off, and this fog may 
 have deadened them." 
 
 " He followed the hound to call him of? — of that 
 you may be certain. No, no, he's gone by this 
 time! But we'll search the house and make sure." 
 
 The front door was open, so we rushed in and 
 hurried from room to room, to the amazement of a 
 
 226 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 doddering old manservant, who met us in the 
 passage. There was no light save in the dining- 
 room, but Holmes caught up the lamp and left no 
 corner of the house unexplored. No sign could 
 we see of the man whom we were chasing. On the 
 upper floor, however, one of the bedroom doors was 
 locked. 
 
 There's someone in here," cried Lestrade. " I 
 can hear a movement. Open this door! " 
 
 A faint moaning and rustling came from within. 
 Holmes struck the door just over the lock with the 
 flat of his foot and it flew open. Pistol in hand, we 
 all three rushed into the room. 
 
 But there was no sign within it of that desperate 
 and defiant villain whom we expected to see. In- 
 stead we were faced by an object so strange and so 
 • unexpected that we stood for a moment staring at 
 it in amazement. 
 
 The room had been fashioned into a small mu- 
 seum, and the walls were lined by a number of 
 glass-topped cases full of that collection of butter- 
 flies and moths the formation of which had been 
 the relaxation of this complex and dangerous man. 
 In the centre of this room there was an upright 
 beam, which had been placed at some period as a 
 support for the old worm-eaten balk of timber 
 which spanned the roof. To this post a figure was 
 tied, so swathed and muffled in the sheets which 
 had been used to secure it that one could not for 
 the moment tell whether it was that of a man or a 
 
 227 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 woman. One towel passed round the throat and 
 was secured at the back of the pillar. Another cov- 
 ered the lower part of the face, and over it two dark 
 eyes — eyes full of grief and shame and a dreadful 
 questioning — stared back at us. In a minute we 
 had torn oflf the gag, unswathed the bonds, and 
 Mrs. Stapleton sank upon the floor in front of us. 
 As her beautiful head fell upon her chest I saw the 
 clear red weal of a whiplash across her neck. 
 ' The brute! " cried Holmes. " Here, Lestrade, 
 your brandy-bottle! Put her in the chair! She 
 has fainted from ill-usage and exhaustion." 
 
 She opened her eyes again. 
 
 " Is he safe? she asked. " Has he escaped? " 
 He cannot escape us, madam." 
 
 " No, no, I did not mean my husband. Sir 
 Henry? Is he safe? " 
 
 ^^Yes." 
 
 " And the hound? " 
 " It is dead." 
 
 She gave a long sigh of satisfaction. 
 
 "Thank God! Thank God! Oh, this villain! 
 See how he has treated me! " She shot her arms 
 out from her sleeves, and we saw with horror that 
 they were all mottled with bruises. " But this is 
 nothing — nothing ! It is my mind and soul that he 
 has tortured and defiled. I could endure it all, ill- 
 usage, solitude, a life of deception, everything, as 
 long as I could still cling to the hope that I had 
 his love, but now I know that in this also I have 
 
 228 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 been his dupe and his tool/' She broke into pas- 
 sionate sobbing as she spoke. 
 
 " You bear him no good will, madam/' said 
 Holmes. Tell us then where we shall find him. 
 If you have ever aided him in evil, help us now and 
 so atone." 
 
 " There is but one place where he can have fled/' 
 she answered. " There is an old tin mine on an 
 island in the heart of the Mire. It was there that 
 he kept his hound and there also he had made 
 preparations so that he might have a refuge. That 
 is where he would fly." 
 
 The fog-bank lay like white wool against the win- 
 dow. Holmes held the lamp towards it. 
 
 See/' said he. No one could find his way 
 into the Grimpen Mire to-night." 
 
 She laughed and clapped her hands. Her eyes 
 and teeth gleamed with fierce merriment. 
 
 " He may find his way in, but never out," she 
 cried. " How can he see the guiding wands to- 
 night? We planted them together, he and I, to 
 mark the pathway through the mire. Oh, if I 
 could only have plucked them out to-day. Then 
 indeed you would have had him at your mercy! " 
 
 It was evident to us that all pursuit was in vain 
 until the fog had lifted. Meanwhile we left Le- 
 strade in possession of the house while Holmes and 
 I went back with the baronet to Baskerville Hall. 
 The story of the Stapletons could no longer be with- 
 held from him, but he took the blow bravely when 
 
 229 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 he learned the truth about the woman whom he had 
 loved. But the shock of the night's adventures 
 had shattered his nerves, and before morning he 
 lay delirious in a high fever, under the care of Dr. 
 Mortimer. The two of them were destined to 
 travel together round the world before Sir Henry 
 had become once more the hale, hearty man that 
 he had been before he became master of that ill- 
 omened estate. 
 
 And now I come rapidly to the conclusion of this 
 singular narrative, in which I have tried to make 
 the reader share those dark fears and vague sur- 
 mises which clouded our lives so long, and ended 
 in so tragic a manner. On the morning after the 
 death of the hound the fog had lifted and we were 
 guided by Mrs. Stapleton to the point where they 
 had found a pathway through the bog. It helped 
 us to realize the horror of this woman's life when 
 we saw the eagerness and joy with which she laid 
 us on her husband's track. We left her standing 
 upon the thin peninsula of firm, peaty soil which 
 tapered out into the widespread bog. From the 
 end of it a small wand planted here and there 
 showed where the path zig-zagged from tuft to tuft 
 of rushes among those green-scummed pits and foul 
 quagmires which barred the way to the stranger. 
 Rank reeds and lush, slimy water-plants sent an 
 odour of decay and a heavy miasmatic vapour into 
 our faces, while a false step plunged us more than 
 
 230 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 once thigh-deep into the dark, quivering mire, 
 which shook for yards in soft undulations around 
 our feet. Its tenacious grip plucked at our heels 
 as we walked, and when we sank into it it was as 
 if some malignant hand was tugging us down into 
 those obscene depths, so grim and purposeful was 
 the clutch in which it held us. Once only we saw 
 a trace that someone had passed that perilous way 
 before us. From amid a tuft of cotton-grass which 
 bore it up out of the slime some dark thing was 
 projecting. Holmes sank to his waist as he stepped 
 from the path to seize it, and had we not been there 
 to drag him out he could never have set his foot 
 upon firm land again. He held an old black boot 
 in the air. Meyers, Toronto,'' was printed on the 
 leather inside. 
 
 " It is worth a mud bath," said he. " It is our 
 friend Sir Henry's missing boot." 
 
 " Thrown there by Stapleton in his flight." 
 
 " Exactly. He retained it in his hand after using 
 it to set the hound upon the track. He fled when 
 he knew the game was up, still clutching it. And 
 he hurled it away at this point of his flight. We 
 know at least that he came so far in safety." 
 
 But more than that we were never destined to 
 know, though there was much which we might sur- 
 mise. There was no chance of finding footsteps in 
 the mire, for the rising mud oozed swiftly in upon 
 them, but as we at last reached firmer ground be- 
 yond the morass we all looked eagerly for them. 
 
 231 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 But no slightest sign of them ever met our eyes. 
 If the earth told a true story, then Stapleton never 
 reached that island of refuge towards which he 
 struggled through the fog upon that last night. 
 Somewhere in the heart of the great Grimpen Mire, 
 down in the foul slime of the huge morass which 
 had sucked him in, this cold and cruel-hearted man 
 is for ever buried. 
 
 Many traces we found of him in the bog-girt isl- 
 and where he had hid his savage ally. A huge driv- 
 ing-wheel and a shaft half-filled with rubbish showed 
 the position of an abandoned mine. Beside it were 
 the crumbling remains of the cottages of the miners, 
 driven away no doubt by the foul reek of the sur- 
 rounding swamp. In one of these a staple and 
 chain with a quantity of gnawed bones showed 
 where the animal had been confined. A skeleton 
 with a tangle of brown hair adhering to it lay among 
 the debris, 
 
 "A dog!" said Holmes. "By Jove, a curly- 
 haired spaniel. Poor Mortimer will never see his 
 pet again. Well, I do not know that this place con- 
 tains any secret which we have not already fath- 
 omed. He could hide his hound, but he could not 
 hush its voice, and hence came those cries which 
 even in daylight were not pleasant to hear. On an 
 emergency he could keep the hound in the out- 
 house at Merripit, but it was always a risk, and it 
 was only on the supreme day, which he regarded 
 as the end of all his efforts, that he dared do it. 
 
 232 
 
THE HOUND OP THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 This paste in the tin is no doubt the luminous mixt- 
 ure with which the creature was daubed. It was 
 suggested, of course, by the story of the family hell- 
 hound, and by the desire to frighten old Sir Charles 
 to death. No wonder the poor devil of a convict 
 ran and screamed, even as our friend did, and as 
 we ourselves might have done, when he saw such 
 a creature bounding through the darkness of the 
 moor upon his track. It was a cunning device, for, 
 apart from the chance of driving your victim to his 
 death, what peasant would venture to inquire too 
 closely into such a creature should he get sight of 
 it, as many have done, upon the moor? I said it 
 in London, Watson, and I say it again now, that 
 never yet have we helped to hunt down a more dan- 
 gerous man than he who is lying yonder — he 
 swept his long arm towards the huge mottled ex- 
 panse of green-splotched bog which stretched away 
 until it merged into the russet slopes of the moor. 
 
 233 
 
j. 
 
 XV 
 
 A Retrospection 
 
 IT was the end of November, and Holmes and 
 I sat, upon a raw and foggy night, on either 
 side of a blazing fire in our sitting-room in 
 Baker Street. Since the tragic upshot of our visit 
 to Devonshire he had been engaged in two afifairs 
 of the utmost importance, in the first of which he 
 had exposed the atrocious conduct of Colonel Up- 
 wood in connection with the famous card scandal 
 of the Nonpareil Club, while in the second he had 
 defended the unfortunate Mme. Montpensier from 
 the charge of murder which hung over her in con- 
 nection with the death of her step-daughter. Mile. 
 Carere, the young lady who, as it will be remem- 
 bered, was found six months later alive and married 
 in New York. My friend was in excellent spirits 
 over the success which had attended a succession of 
 difficult and important cases, so that I was able to 
 induce him to discuss the details of the Baskerville 
 mystery. I had waited patiently for the opportu- 
 nity, for I was aware that he would never permit 
 cases to overlap, and that his clear and logical mind 
 would not be drawn from its present work to dwell 
 upon memories of the past. Sir Henry and Dr. 
 Mortimer were, however, in London, on their way 
 
 234 
 
A RETROSPECTION 
 
 to that long voyage which had been recommended 
 for the restoration of his shattered nerves. They 
 had called upon us that very afternoon, so that it 
 was natural that the subject should come up for 
 discussion. 
 
 " The whole course of events," said Holmes, 
 " from the point of view of the man who called him- 
 self Stapleton was simple and direct, although to 
 us, who had no means in the beginning of knowing 
 the motives of his actions and could only learn part 
 of the facts, it all appeared exceedingly complex. 
 I have had the advantage of two conversations with 
 Mrs. Stapleton, and the case has now been so en- 
 tirely cleared up that I am not aware that there is 
 anything which has remained a secret to us. You 
 will find a few notes upon the matter under the 
 heading B in my indexed Hst of cases." 
 
 " Perhaps you would kindly give me a sketch of 
 the course of events from memory." 
 
 Certainly, though I cannot guarantee that I 
 carry all the facts in my mind. Intense mental con- 
 centration has a curious way of blotting out what 
 has passed. The barrister who has his case at his 
 fingers' end, and is able to argue with an expert 
 upon his own subject, finds that a week or two of 
 the courts will drive it all out of his head once more. 
 So each of my cases displaces the last, and Mile. 
 Carere has blurred my recollection of Baskerville 
 Hall. To-morrow some other little problem may 
 be submitted to my notice which will in turn dis- 
 
 235 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 possess the fair French lady and the infamous Up- 
 wood. So far as the case of the Hound goes, how- 
 ever, I will give you the course of events as nearly 
 as I can, and you will suggest anything which I may 
 have forgotten. 
 
 " My inquiries show beyond all question that the 
 family portrait did not lie, and that this fellow was 
 indeed a Baskerville. He was a son of that Rodger 
 Baskerville, the younger brother of Sir Charles, who 
 fled with a sinister reputation to South America, 
 where he was said to have died unmarried. He did, 
 as a matter of fact, marry, and had one child, this 
 fellow, whose real name is the same as his father. 
 He married Beryl Gar9ia, one of the beauties of 
 Costa Rica, and, having purloined a considerable 
 sum of public money, he changed his name to Van- 
 deleur and fled to England, where he established a 
 school in the east of Yorkshire. His reason for at- 
 tempting this special line of business was that he 
 had struck up an acquaintance with a consumptive 
 tutor upon the voyage home, and that he had used 
 this man's ability to make the undertaking a suc- 
 cess. Fraser, the tutor, died, however, and the 
 school which had begun well sank from disrepute 
 into infamy. The Vandeleurs found it convenient 
 to change their name to Stapleton, and he brought 
 the remains of his fortune, his schemes for the 
 future, and his taste for entomology to the south of 
 England. I learn at the British Museum that he 
 was a recognised authority upon the subject, and 
 
 236 
 
A RETROSPECTION 
 
 that the name of Vandeleur has been permanently 
 attached to a certain moth which he had, in his 
 Yorkshire days, been the first to describe. 
 
 " We now come to that portion of his life which 
 has proved to be of such intense interest to us. The 
 fellow had evidently made inquiry, and found that 
 only two lives intervened between him and a valu- 
 able estate. When he went to Devonshire his plans 
 were, I believe, exceedingly hazy, but that he meant 
 mischief from the first is evident from the way in 
 which he took his wife with him in the character of 
 his sister. The idea of using her as a decoy was 
 clearly already in his mind, though he may not have 
 been certain how the details of his plot were to be 
 arranged. He meant in the end to have the es- 
 tate, and he was ready to use any tool or run 
 any risk for that end. His first act was to es- 
 tablish himself as near to his ancestral home as 
 he could, and his second was to cultivate a friend- 
 ship with Sir Charles Baskerville and with the 
 neighbours. 
 
 " The baronet himself told him about the family 
 hound, and so prepared the way for his own death. 
 Stapleton, as I will continue to call him, knew that 
 the old man's heart was weak and that a shock 
 would kill him. So much he had learned from Dr. 
 Mortimer. He had heard also that Sir Charles was 
 superstitious and had taken this grim legend very 
 seriously. His ingenious mind instantly suggested 
 a way by which the baronet could be done to death, 
 
 237 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 and yet it would be hardly possible to bring home 
 the guilt to the real murderer. 
 
 Having conceived the idea he proceeded to 
 carry it out with considerable finesse. An ordinary 
 schemer would have been content to work with a 
 savage hound. The use of artificial means to make 
 the creature diabolical was a flash of genius upon 
 his part. The dog he bought in London from Ross 
 and Mangles, the dealers in Fulham Road. It was 
 the strongest and most savage in their possession. 
 He brought it down by the North Devon line and 
 walked a great distance over the moor so as to get 
 it home without exciting any remarks. He had al- 
 ready on his insect hunts learned to penetrate the 
 Grimpen Mire, and so had found a safe hiding-place 
 for the creature. Here he kennelled it and waited 
 his chance. 
 
 " But it was some time coming. The old gentle- 
 man 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 fruitless quests that he, or rather his ally, was 
 seen by peasants, and that the legend of the demon 
 dog received a new confirmation. He had hoped 
 that his wife might lure Sir Charles to his ruin, but 
 here she proved unexpectedly independent. She 
 would not endeavour to entangle the old gentleman 
 in a sentimental attachment which might deliver 
 him over to his enemy. Threats and even, I am 
 sorry to say, blows refused to move her. She 
 
 238 
 
A RETROSPECTION 
 
 would have nothing to do with it, and for a time 
 Stapleton was at a deadlock. 
 
 " He found a way out of his difficulties through 
 the chance that Sir Charles, who had conceived a 
 friendship for him, made him the minister of his 
 charity in the case of this unfortunate woman, Mrs. 
 Laura Lyons. By representing himself as a single 
 man he acquired complete influence over her, and 
 he gave her to understand that in the event of her 
 obtaining a divorce from her husband he would 
 marry her. His plans were suddenly brought to a 
 head by his knowledge that Sir Charles was about 
 to leave the Hall on the advice of Dr. Mortimer, 
 with whose opinion he himself pretended to coin- 
 cide. He must act at once, or his victim might get 
 beyond his power. He therefore put pressure upon 
 Mrs. Lyons to write this letter, imploring the old 
 man to give her an interview on the evening before 
 his departure for London. He then, by a specious 
 argument, prevented her from going, and so had 
 the chance for which he had waited. 
 
 " Driving back in the evening from Coombe 
 Tracey he was in time to get his hound, to treat it 
 with his infernal paint, and to bring the beast round 
 to the gate at which he had reason to expect that 
 he would find the old gentleman waiting. The 
 dog, incited by its master, sprang over the wicket- 
 gate and pursued the unfortunate baronet, who fled 
 screaming down the Yew Alley. In that gloomy 
 tunnel it must indeed have been a dreadful sight to 
 
 239 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 see that huge black creature, with its flaming jaws 
 and blazing eyes, bounding after its victim. He 
 fell dead at the end of the alley from heart disease 
 and terror. The hound had kept upon the grassy 
 border while the baronet had run down the path, 
 so that no track but the man's was visible. On 
 seeing him lying still the creature had probably ap- 
 proached to sniff at him, but finding him dead had 
 turned away again. It was then that it left the 
 print which was actually observed by Dr. Mortimer. 
 The hound was called off and hurried away to its 
 lair in the Grimpen Mire, and a mystery was left 
 which puzzled the authorities, alarmed the country- 
 side, and finally brought the case within the scope 
 of our observation. 
 
 " So much for the death of Sir Charles Basker- 
 ville. You perceive the devilish cunning of it, for 
 really it would be almost impossible to make a case 
 against the real murderer. His only accomplice 
 was one who could never give him away, and the 
 grotesque, inconceivable nature of the device only 
 served to make it more effective. Both of the 
 women concerned in the case, Mrs. Stapleton and 
 Mrs. Laura Lyons, were left with a strong suspicion 
 against Stapleton. Mrs. Stapleton knew that he 
 had designs upon the old man, and also of the ex- 
 istence of the hound. Mrs. Lyons knew neither of 
 these things, but had been impressed by the death 
 occurring at the time of an uncancelled appointment 
 which was only known to him. However, both of 
 
 240 
 
A RETROSPECTION 
 
 them were under his influence, and he had nothing 
 to fear from them. The first half of his task was 
 successfully accomplished, but the more difficult 
 still remained. 
 
 " It is possible that Stapleton did not know of 
 the existence of an heir in Canada. In any case he 
 would very soon learn it from his friend Dr. Morti- 
 mer, and he was told by the latter all details about 
 the arrival of Henry Baskerville. Stapleton's first 
 idea was that this young stranger from Canada 
 might possibly be done to death in London with- 
 out coming down to Devonshire at all. He dis- 
 trusted his wife ever since she had refused to help 
 him in laying a trap for the old man, and he dared 
 not leave her long out of his sight for fear he should 
 lose his influence over her. It was for this reason 
 that he took her to London with him. They 
 lodged, I find, at the Mexborough Private Hotel, 
 in Craven Street, which was actually one of those 
 called upon by my agent in search of evidence. 
 Here he kept his wife imprisoned in her room while 
 he, disguised in a beard, followed Dr. Mortimer to 
 Baker Street and afterwards to the station and to 
 the Northumberland Hotel. His wife had some 
 inkling of his plans; but she had such a fear of her 
 husband — a fear founded upon brutal ill-treatment 
 — that she dare not write to warn the man whom 
 she 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 ex- 
 
 241 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 pedient of cutting out the words which would form 
 the message, and addressing the letter in a disguised 
 hand. It reached the baronet, and gave him the 
 first warning of his danger. 
 
 " It was very essential for Stapleton to get some 
 article of Sir Henry's attire so that, in case he was 
 driven to use the dog, he might always have the 
 ; means of setting him upon his track. With char- 
 acteristic promptness and audacity he set about this 
 at once, and we cannot doubt that the boots or 
 chambermaid of the hotel was well bribed to help 
 him in his design. By chance, however, the fi'rst 
 boot which was procured for him was a new one 
 and, therefore, useless for his purpose. He then 
 had it returned and obtained another — a most in- 
 structive incident, since it proved conclusively to my 
 mind that we were dealing with a real hound, as no 
 other supposition could explain this anxiety to ob- 
 tain an old boot and this indiflference to a new one. 
 The more outre and grotesque an incident is the 
 more carefully it deserves to be examined, and the 
 very point which appears to complicate a case is, 
 when duly considered and scientifically handled, the 
 one which is most likely to elucidate it. 
 
 Then we had the visit from our friends next 
 morning, shadowed always by Stapleton in the cab. 
 From his knowledge of our rooms and of my ap- 
 pearance, as well as from his general conduct, I am 
 inclined to think that Stapleton's career of crime 
 has been by no means limited to this single Basker- 
 
 242 
 
A RETROSPECTION 
 
 ville affair. It is suggestive that during the last 
 three years there have been four considerable bur- 
 glaries in the West Country, for none of v^hich was 
 any criminal ever arrested. The last of these, at 
 Folkestone Court, in May, v^as remarkable for the 
 colJ-blooded pistoling of the page, v^ho surprised 
 the masked and solitary burglar. I cannot doubt 
 that Stapleton recruited his waning resources in 
 this fashion, and that for years he has been a des- 
 perate and dangerous man. 
 
 " We had an example of his readiness of resource 
 that morning when he got away from us so success- 
 fully, and also of his audacity in sending back my 
 own name to me through the cabman. From that 
 moment he understood that I had taken over the 
 case in London, and that therefore there was no 
 chance for him there. He returned to Dartmoor 
 and awaited the arrival of the baronet." 
 
 " One moment! " said I. " You have, no doubt, 
 described the sequence of events correctly, but there 
 is one point which you have left unexplained. What 
 became of the hound when its master was in Lon- 
 don? " 
 
 " I have given some attention to this matter and 
 it is undoubtedly of importance. There can be no 
 question that Stapleton had a confidant, though it 
 is unlikely that he ever placed himself in his power 
 by sharing all his plans with him. There was an 
 old manservant at Merripit House, whose name was 
 Anthony. His connection with the Stapletons can 
 
 243 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 be traced for several years, as far back as the school- 
 mastering days, so that he must have been aware 
 that his master and mistress were really husband 
 and wife. This man has disappeared and has es- 
 caped from the country. It is suggestive that 
 Anthony is not a common name in England, while 
 Antonio is so in all Spanish or Spanish-American 
 countries. The man, like Mrs. Stapleton herself, 
 spoke good English, but with a curious lisping ac- 
 cent. I have myself seen this old man cross the 
 Grimpen Mire by the path which Stapleton had 
 marked out. It is very probable, therefore, that in 
 the absence of his master it was he who cared for 
 the hound, though he may never have knov;n the 
 purpose for which the beast was used. 
 
 The Stapletons then went down to Devonshire, 
 whither they were soon followed by Sir Henry and 
 you. One word now as to how I stood myself at 
 that time. It may possibly recur to your memory 
 that when I examined the paper upon which the 
 printed words were fastened I made a close inspec- 
 tion for the water-mark. In doing so I held it 
 within a few inches of my eyes, and was conscious 
 of a faint smell of the scent known as white jessa- 
 mine. There are seventy-five perfumes, which it is 
 very necessary that a criminal expert should be able 
 to distinguish from each other, and cases have more 
 than once within my own experience depended up- 
 on their prompt recognition. The scent suggested 
 the presence of a lady, and already my thoughts be- 
 
 244 
 
A RETROSPECTION 
 
 gan to turn towards the Stapletons. Thus I had 
 made certain of the hound, and had guessed at the 
 criminal before ever we went to the West Country. 
 
 " It was my game to watch Stapleton. It was 
 evident, however, that I could not do this if I were 
 with you, since he would be keenly on his guard. I 
 deceived everybody, therefore, yourself included, 
 and I came down secretly when I was supposed to 
 be in London. My hardships were not so great as 
 you imagined, though such trifling details must 
 never interfere with the investigation of a case. I 
 stayed for the most part at Coombe Tracey, and 
 only used the hut upon the moor when it was neces- 
 sary to be near the scene of action. Cartwright 
 had come down with me, and in his disguise as a 
 country boy he was of great assistance to me. I 
 was dependent upon him for food and clean linen. 
 When I was watching Stapleton, Cartwright was 
 frequently watching you, so that I was able to keep 
 my hand upon all the strings. 
 
 I have already told you that your reports 
 reached me rapidly, being forwarded instantly from 
 Baker Street to Coombe Tracey. They were of 
 great service to me, and especially that one inci- 
 dentally truthful piece of biography of Stapleton's. 
 I was able to establish the identity of the man and 
 the woman, and knew at last exactly how I stood. 
 The case had been considerably complicated 
 through the incident of the escaped convict and the 
 relations between him and the Barrymores. This 
 
 245 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 also you cleared up in a very effective way, though 
 I had already come to the same conclusions from my 
 own observations. 
 
 " By the time that you discovered me upon the 
 moor I had a complete knowledge of the whole 
 business, but I had not a case which could go to a 
 jury. Even Stapleton's attempt upon Sir Henry 
 that night which ended in the death of the unfortu- 
 nate convict did not help us much in proving mur- 
 der against our man. There seemed to be no al- 
 ternative but to catch him red-handed, and to do 
 so we had to use Sir Henry, alone and apparently 
 unprotected, as a bait. We did so, and at the cost 
 of a severe shock to our client we succeeded in com- 
 pleting our case and driving Stapleton to his de- 
 struction. That Sir Henry should have been ex- 
 posed to this is, I must confess, a reproach to my 
 management of the case, but we had no means of 
 foreseeing the terrible and paralyzing spectacle 
 which the beast presented, nor could we predict the 
 fog which enabled him to burst upon us at such 
 short notice. We succeeded in our object at a cost 
 which both the speciaHst and Dr. Mortimer assure 
 me will be a temporary one. A long journey may 
 enable our friend to recover not only from his shat- 
 tered nerves, but also from his wounded feelings. 
 His love for the lady was deep and sincere, and to 
 him the saddest part of all this black business was 
 that he should have been deceived by her. 
 
 " It only remains to indicate the part which she 
 
 246 
 
A RETROSPECTION 
 
 had played throughout. There can be no doubt 
 that Stapleton exercised an influence over her 
 which may have been love or may have been fear, 
 or very possibly both, since they are by no means 
 incompatible emotions. It was, at least, absolutely 
 effective. At his command she consented to pass 
 as his sister, though he found the limits of his power 
 over her when he endeavoured to make her the di- 
 rect accessory to murder. She was ready to warn 
 Sir Henry so far as she could without impHcating 
 her husband, and again and again she tried to do so. 
 Stapleton himself seems to have been capable of 
 jealousy, and when he saw the baronet paying court 
 to the lady, even though it was part of his own 
 plan, still he could not help interrupting with a pas- 
 sionate outburst which revealed the fiery soul which 
 his self-contained manner so cleverly concealed. 
 By encouraging the intimacy he made it certain that 
 Sir Henry would frequently come to Merripit 
 House and that he would sooner or later get the 
 opportunity which he desired. On the day of the 
 crisis, however, his wife turned suddenly against 
 him. She had learned something of the death of 
 the convict, and she knew that the hound was be- 
 ing kept in the out-house on the evening that Sir 
 Henry was coming to dinner. She taxed her hus- 
 band with his intended crime, and a furious scene 
 followed, in which he showed her for the first time 
 that she had a rival in his love. Her fidelity turned 
 in an instant to bitter hatred and he saw that she 
 
 247 
 
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
 
 would betray him. He tied her up, therefore, that 
 she might have no chance of warning Sir Henry, 
 and he hoped, no doubt, that when the whole coun- 
 trj^side put down the baronet's death to the curse 
 of his family, as they certainly would do, he could 
 win his wife back to accept an accomplished fact 
 and to keep silent upon what she knew. In this I 
 fancy that in any case he made a miscalculation, and 
 that, if we had not been there, his doom would none 
 the less have been sealed. A woman of Spanish 
 blood does not condone such an injury so lightly. 
 And now, my dear Watson, without referring to 
 my notes, I cannot give you a more detailed ac- 
 count of this curious case. I do not know that any- 
 thing essential has been left unexplained.'' 
 
 He could not hope to frighten Sir Henry to 
 death as he had done the old uncle with his bogie 
 hound." 
 
 " The beast was savage and half-starved. If its 
 appearance did not frighten its victim to death, at 
 least it would paralyze the resistance which might 
 be offered." 
 
 " No doubt. There only remains one dif!iculty. 
 If Stapleton came into the succession, how could he 
 explain the fact that he, the heir, had been living 
 unannounced under another name so close to the 
 property? How could he claim it without causing 
 suspicion and inquiry? " 
 
 It is a formidable difficulty, and I fear that you 
 ask too much when you expect me to solve it. The 
 
 248 
 
A RETROSPECTION 
 
 past and the present are within the field of my in- 
 quiry, but what a man may do in the future is a 
 hard question to answer. Mrs. Stapleton has 
 heard her husband discuss the problem on several 
 occasions. There were three possible courses. He 
 might claim the property from South America, es- 
 tablish his identity before the British authorities 
 there, and so obtain the fortune without ever com- 
 ing to England at all ; or he might adopt an elabo- 
 rate disguise during the short time that he need be 
 in London; or, again, he might furnish an accom- 
 plice with the proofs and papers, putting him in as 
 heir, and retaining a claim upon some proportion of 
 his income. We cannot doubt from what we know 
 of him that he would have found some way out of 
 the difficulty. And now, my dear Watson, we have 
 had some weeks of severe work, and for one even- 
 ing, I think, we may turn our thoughts into more 
 pleasant channels. I have a box for ' Les Hugue- 
 nots.' Have you heard the De Reszkes? Might 
 I trouble you then to be ready in half an hour, and 
 we can stop at Marcini's for a little dinner on the 
 way? 
 
 THE END 
 
3Sp (l^eorge Bouglas 
 
 THE HOUSE WITH THE 
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 THE BLAZED TRAIL 
 
 r 
 
 A TALE from beyond the bounds of civil- 
 ization. The second in Mr. White's series of 
 thoroughly American stories. 
 
 The inspiriting breath of the great pine woods is in this 
 dramatic novel of frontier struggle in which a green 
 ** land looker " plays a lone hand against a powerful and 
 unscrupulous land company for a vast tract of timber 
 land. 
 
 $1.50. 
 
 By the iame author : 
 
 THE WESTERNERS 
 
 r 
 
 Mr . WHITE shows us the rough-and-ready 
 life of a Western mining camp. 
 
 •**The Westerners' lays strong hold on the reader. 
 The thing is vital. There is a force and a sincerity dis- 
 tinctly Western — of the frontier; the grim naturalness 
 of elemental things. Furthermore Mr. White knows his 
 West, his plains, his Indians and his mining camps." 
 
 — Chicago Record-Herald, 
 
 Third Edition. $1.50. 
 
Colt) on ti^e f igi^ttng Line 
 
 W^t (^aW of €tecp^-^ap %ift 
 
 HELD FOR ORDERS 
 
 Sy Frank H. Spearman 
 
 Stories of the Never-Ending Warfare of 
 the Raikoads. WiUiam Allen White says of 
 them : " The American who can read those 
 tales and not love his country better for being 
 a compatriot with real heroes, is a poor sort." 
 Second Edition, $1.50. 
 
 WALL STREET STORIES 
 
 Sy Edwin Lefevre 
 
 "Vivid pictures of the cutthroat campaign 
 
 carried on under the Standard of the Dollar. 
 
 "Edwin Lefevre has written the one book about Wall 
 Street which hits the mark." — N. Y. Sun. 
 *' Rattling good tales." — Life. 
 
 Third Edition. $1.25. 
 
 BY BREAD ALONE 
 JBy I. K. Friedman 
 
 Scenes from the great battle between cap- 
 ital and labor, as waged in the world of the 
 mighty steel industry. 
 
 ** A work of genuine power and profound interest." 
 
 — Chicago Post. 
 
 Second Edition. $1.50. 
 
^Itoap^ in Bemanti 
 
 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 
 
 By Booth J^arkington 
 
 This little masterpiece has become the stand- 
 ard by which other romances are judged. 
 Cloth, $1.25. FuU Leather, $2.00. 
 
 Seventieth Thousand, 
 
 THE FIREBRAND 
 , By S. R. Crockett 
 
 A. STIRRING romance of Carlist plotting in 
 Spain, told in the author'*s usual captivating 
 style. Twelfth Thousand. $1.50. 
 
 SONS OF THE SWORD 
 JBy Mrs. Mai^garet L. Woods 
 
 An historical romance. A romance of action. 
 
 and glory, of brave hearts and fair women. 
 
 Second Edition. $1.50. 
 
 FIVE YEARS OF MY LIFE 
 
 Alfred Dreyfus 
 
 Including The Devirs island diary and 
 
 containing maps and diagrams. 
 
 Third Edition. $1.50. 
 
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