The Hound of the Baskervilles ...........................................................................................................................1

Arthur Conan Doyle .................................................................................................................................1

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

when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearthrug and picked up the

stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood,

bulbousheaded, of the sort which is known as a "Penang law yer." 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 engraved

upon it, with the date "1884." It was just such a stick as the oldfashioned family practitioner used to carry

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 believe you have eyes in the back of your head."

"I have, at least, a wellpolished, silverplated coffeepot 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 souvenir becomes of importance. Let me hear you reconstruct the man by

"I think," said I, following as far as I could the methods of my companion, "that Dr. Mortimer is a successful,

elderly medical man, wellesteemed since those who know him give him this mark of their appreciation."

"I think also that the probability is in favour of his being a country practitioner who does a great deal of his

"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 thickiron ferrule is worn down, so it is evident that he has done

"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 possibly given some surgical assistance, and which has made him a small

"Really, Watson, you excel yourself," said Holmes, pushing back his chair and lighting a cigarette. "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. Some people without possessing genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it. I

He had never said as much before, and I must admit that his words gave me keen pleasure, for I had often

been piqued by his indifference to my admiration 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

"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 deductions."

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

"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 practitioner. And he walks a good deal."

"No, no, my dear Watson, not all by no means all. I would suggest, for example, that a presentation to a

doctor is more likely to come from a hospital than from a hunt, and that when the initials 'C.C.' are placed

before that hospital the words 'Charing Cross' very naturally suggest themselves."

"The probability lies in that direction. And if we take this as a working hypothesis we have a fresh basis from

"Well, then, supposing that 'C.C.H.' does stand for 'Charing Cross Hospital,' what further inferences may we

"I can only think of the obvious conclusion that the man has practised in town before going to the country."

"I think that we might venture a little farther than this. Look at it in this light. On what occasion would it be

most probable that such a presentation would be made? When would his friends unite to 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 practice for himself. We know there has been a presentation. 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

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

wellestablished 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

housesurpeon or a housephysician little more than a senior student. And he left five years ago the

date is on the stick. So your grave, middleaged family practitioner vanishes into thin air, my dear Watson,

and there emerges a young fellow under thirty, amiable, unambitious, absentminded, 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

"As to the latter part, I have no means of checking 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 one who could be our

"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, unambi tious, and absentminded. 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 absentminded one who leaves his stick and not his visitingcard after waiting an hour

"Has been in the habit of carrying this stick behind 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 broad in my opinion for a terrier and not broad enough for a mastiff. It may have

He had risen and paced the room as he spoke. Now he halted in the recess of the window. There was such a

"For the very simple reason that I see the dog himself on our very doorstep, and there is the ring of its

owner. Don't move, I beg you, Watson. He is a professional brother of yours, and your presence may be of

assistance to me. Now is the dramatic 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

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

was a very tall, thin man, with a long nose like a beak, which jutted out between two keen, gray eyes, set

closely together and sparkling brightly from behind a pair of goldrimmed glasses. He was clad in a

professional but rather slovenly fashion, for his frockcoat was dingy and his trousers frayed. Though young,

his long back was already bowed, and he walked with a forward thrust of his 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

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

"Come, come, we are not so far wrong, after all," said Holmes. "And now, Dr. James Mortimer "

"A dabbler in science, Mr. Holmes, a picker up of shells on the shores of the great unknown ocean. I presume

"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 wellmarked

supraorbital 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 ornament 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.

The man drew out paper and tobacco and twirled the one up in the other with surprising dexterity. He had

Holmes was silent, but his little darting glances showed me the interest which he took in our curious

"I presume, sir," said he at last, "that it was not merely for the purpose of examining my skull that you have

"No, sir, no; though I am happy to have had the opportunity of doing that as well. I came to you, Mr. Holmes,

because I recognized that I am myself an unpractical man and because I am suddenly confronted with a most

serious and extraordinary prob lem. Recognizing, 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 Mon sieur Bertillon must always appeal strongly."

"I said, sir, to the precisely scientific mind. But as a practical man of affairs it is acknowledged that you stand

"Just a little," said Holmes. "I think, Dr. Mortimer, you would do wisely if without more ado you would

kindly tell me plainly what the exact nature of the problem is in which you demand my assistance."

"You have presented an inch or two of it to my examination all the time that you have been talking. It would

be a poor expert who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so. You may possibly have

"The exact date is 1742." Dr. Mortimer drew it from his breastpocket. "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

strongminded 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."

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

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

"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 consult me?"

"Most modern. A most practical, pressing matter, which must be decided within twentyfour hours. But the

manuscript is short and is intimately connected with the affair. With your permission I will read it to you."

Holmes leaned back in his chair, placed his fingertips to gether, and closed his eyes, with an air of

resignation. Dr. Mortimer turned the manuscript to the light and read in a high, cracking voice the following

"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 even as is here set forth. And I would have you believe, my sons, that the

same Justice which punishes sin may also most graciously forgive it, and that no ban is so heavy but that by

prayer and repentance 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 passions whereby our family has suffered so grievously

may not again be loosed to our undoing. "Know then that in the time of the Great Rebellion (the history of

which by the learned Lord Clarendon I most earnestly commend to your attention) this Manor of Basker

ville 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, seeing that saints have never flourished in those

parts, but there was in him a certain wanton and cruel humour which made his name a by word 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 compan ions, stole down upon the farm and

carried off the maiden, her father and brothers being from home, as he well knew. When they had brought her

to the 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, rushing down the stairs into the dininghall, he sprang upon the great table, flagons and

trenchers flying before him, and he cried aloud before all the company that he would that very night render

his body and soul to the Powers of Evil if he might but overtake 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 Whereat Hugo ran from the house, crying to his grooms 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 off 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 onward. But soon

their skins turned cold, for there came a galloping across the 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 whim pering 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 Baskerviile 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 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 because 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 ourselves in the infinite goodness of

Providence, which would not for ever punish the innocent beyond that third or fourth genera tion 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

When Dr. Mortimer had finished reading this singular narra tive he pushed his spectacles up on his forehead

and stared across at Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The latter yawned and tossed the end of his cigarette into the fire.

"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

My friend leaned a little forward and his expression became intent. Our visitor readjusted his glasses and

"Those are the public facts, Mr. Holmes, in connection with the death of Sir Charles Baskerville."

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

features of interest. I had observed some newspaper comment at the time, but I was exceedingly 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?"

"Then let me have the private ones." He leaned back, put his fingertips together, and assumed his most

"In doing so," said Dr. Mortimer, who had begun 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 certainly remain untenanted if anything

were done to increase its already rather grim reputation. For both these reasons I thought that I was justified

in telling rather less than I knew, since no practical good could result from it, but with you there is no reason

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

this reason I saw a good deal of Sir Charles Baskerville. With the exception of Mr. Frankland, of Lafter Hall,

and Mr. Stapleton, the naturalist, there are no other men of education within 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 increasingly plain to me that Sir Charles's nervous system was strained

to the break ing 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 convinced 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 ever seen any strange creature or heard the baying of a hound. The latter

question he put to me several 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 excite ment had no

"It was at my advice that Sir Charles was about to go to London. His heart was, I knew, affected, and the

constant anxi ety in which he lived, however chimerical the cause of it might be, was evidently having a

serious effect upon his health. I thought that a few months among the distractions of town would send him

back a new man. Mr. Stapleton, a mutual friend who was much concerned at his state of health, was of the

"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 moorgate 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. TheFe was certainly no

physical injury of any kind. But one false statement was made by Barrymore at the inquest. He said that there

were no traces upon the ground round the body. He did not observe any. But I did some little distance off,

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

I confess at these words a shudder passed through me. There was a thrill in the doctor's voice which showed

that he was himself 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.

"The marks were some twenty yards from the body and no one gave them a thought. I don't suppose I should

"So that to reach the yew alley one either has to come down it from the house or else to enter it by the

"It was all very confused. Sir Charles had evidently stood there for five or ten minutes."

"He had left his own marks all over that small patch of gravel. I could discern no others."

"If I had only been there!" he cried. "It is evidently a case of extraordinary interest, and one which presented

immense opportu nities to the scientific expert. That gravel page upon which I 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.

Mortimer, 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 already given my

"There is a realm in which the most acute and most experi enced of detectives is helpless."

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

"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 creature, luminous, ghastly, and spectral. I have crossexamined these

men, one of them a hardheaded countryman, one a farrier, and one a moorland farmer, who all tell the same

story of this dreadful apparition, exactly corresponding to the hellhound of the legend. I assure you that

there is a reign of terror in the district, and that it is a hardy man who will cross the moor at night."

"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

"The original hound was material enough to tug a man's throat out, and yet he was diabolical as well."

"I see that you have quite gone over to the supernaturalists. But now, Dr. Mortimer, tell me this. If 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

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

"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 have reached us he is an excellent fellow in every way. I speak now not

"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 picture 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?"

"It seems natural, does it not? And yet, consider that every Baskerville who goes there meets with an evil

fate. I feel sure that if Sir Charles could have spoken with me before his death he would have warned me

against bringing this, the last of the old race, and the heir to great wealth, to that deadly place. And yet it

cannot be denied that the prosperity of the whole poor, bleak countryside 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 obvious interest in the matter, and that is why I bring the case

"Put into plain words, the matter is this," said he. "In your opinion there is a diabolical agency which makes

"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 theory 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

"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 London. 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

"And then you will say nothing to him at all until I have made up my mind about the matter."

"Twentyfour hours. At ten o'clock tomorrow, Dr. Morti mer, 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

"I will do so, Mr. Holmes." He scribbled the appointment on his shirtcuff and hurried off in his strange,

"Only one more question, Dr. Mortimer. You say that before Sir Charles Baskerville's death several people

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

"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. 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

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 alter native 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 evening. It was nearly

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 dressinggown coiled up in an armchair with his

"There is a delightful freshness about you, Watson, which makes it a pleasure to exercise any small powers

which I possess at your expense. A gentleman 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

"The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes. Where do you think that I

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

large pots of coffee and an incredible amount of tobacco. After you left I sent down to Stamford'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

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

"Exactly. I fancy the yew alley, though not marked under that name, must stretch along this line, with the

moor, as you per ceive, upon the right of it. This small clump of buildings here is the hamlet of Grimpen,

where our friend Dr. Mortimer has his headquarters. Within a radius of five miles there are, as you see, only a

very few scattered dwellings. Here is Lafter Hall, which was mentioned in the narrative. There is a house

indicated here which may be the residence of the naturalist Stapleton, if I remember right, was his name.

Here are two moorland farm houses, High Tor and Foulmire. 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."

"Yes, the setting is a worthy one. If the devil did desire to have a hand in the affairs of men "

"The devil's agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not? There are two questions waiting for 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 convictions. Have you turned

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

"Mortimer said that the man had walked on tiptoe 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?"

"He was running, Watson running desperately, running for his life, running until he burst his heartand

"There lies our problem. There are indications that the man was crazed with fear before ever he began to

"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 towards 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

"The man was elderly and infirm. We can understand 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?"

"I think it unlikely that he waited at the moorgate 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 departure 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

Our breakfast table was cleared early, and Holmes waited in his dressinggown for the promised interview.

Our clients were punc tual to their appointment, for the clock had just struck ten when Dr. Mortimer was

shown up, followed by the young baronet. The latter was a small, alert, darkeyed man about thirty years of

age, very sturdily built, with thick black eyebrows and a strong, pugnacious face. He wore a ruddytinted

tweed suit and had the weatherbeaten appearance 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

"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 understand that you think out

little puzzles, and I've had one this morning which wants more thinking out than I am able to give it."

"Pray take a seat, Sir Henry. Do I understand you to say that you have yourself had some remarkable

"Nothing of much importance, Mr. Holmes. Only a joke, as like as not. It was this letter, if you can call it a

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

address, "Sir Henry Baskerville, Northumberland Hotel," was printed in rough characters; the postmark

"Who knew that you were going to the Northumberland Ho tel?" asked Holmes, glancing keenly across at

"No, I had been staying with a friend," said the doctor. "There was no possible indication that we intended to

"Hum! Someone seems to be very deeply interested in your movements." Out of the envelope he took a

halfsheet of fools cap 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:

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

"What do you make of it, Dr. Mortimer? You must allow that there is nothing supernatural about this, at any

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

"What business?" asked Sir Henry sharply. "It seems to me that all you gentlemen know a great deal more

"You shall share our knowledge before you leave this room, Sir Henry. I promise you that," said Sherlock

Holmes. "We will confine ourselves for the present with your permission to this very interesting document,

which must have been put together and posted yesterday evening. Have you yesterday's Times, Watson?"

"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

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

Dr. Mortimer looked at Holmes with an air of professional interest, and Sir Henry Baskerville turned a pair of

"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

"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."

"And yet, my dear Watson, there is so very close a connec tion 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

"If any possible doubt remained it is settled by the fact that 'keep away' and 'from the' are cut out in one

"Really, Mr. Holmes, this exceeds anything which I could have imagined," said Dr. Mortimer, gazing at my

friend in amazement. "I could understand 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

"I presume, Doctor, that you could tell the skull of a negro from that of an Esquimau?"

"Because that is my special hobby. The differences are obvi ous. The supraorbital crest, the facial angle,

"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 Esquimau. 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. As it was done yesterday the strong

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

"Nailscissors," said Holmes. "You can see that it was a very shortbladed scissors, since the cutter had to

"That is so. Someone, then, cut out the message with a pair of shortbladed scissors, pasted it with paste "

"With gum on to the paper. But I want to know why the word 'moor' should have been written?"

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

"Why, of course, that would explain it. Have you read any thing 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 characters. 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 composed 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, or come to be known, by you. Again, you will observe that the words are not gummed on in

an accurate 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.

"Say, rather, into the region where we balance probabilities and choose the most likely. It is the scientific use

of the imagina tion, but we have always some material basis on which to start our speculation. Now, you

would call it a guess, no doubt, but I am almost certain that this address has been written in a hotel."

"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 address, showing that there was

very little ink in the bottle. Now, a private pen or inkbottle 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 wastepaper baskets

of the hotels around 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

"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

"I seem to have walked right into the thick of a dime novel," said our visitor. "Why in thunder should anyone

"We are coming to that. You have nothing else to report to us before we go into this matter?"

"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."

"My dear sir," cried Dr. Mortimer, "it is only mislaid. You will find it when you return to the hotel. What is

"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 outside my door last night, and there was only one in the morning.

I could get no sense out of the chap who cleans them. The worst of it is that I only bought the pair last night

"They were tan boots and had never been varnished. That was why I put them out."

"Then I understand that on your arrival in London yesterday you went out at once and bought a pair of

"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

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

"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

"Your request is a very reasonable one," Holmes answered. "Dr. Mortimer, I think you could not do better

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 attention and with an

"Well, I seem to have come into an inheritance with a ven geance," said he when the long narrative 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

"And now there's this affair of the letter to me at the hotel. I suppose that fits into its place."

"It seems to show that someone knows more than we do about what goes on upon the moor," said Dr.

"And also," said Holmes, "that someone is not illdisposed towards you, since they warn you of danger."

"Well, of course, that is possible also. I am very much indebted to you, Dr. Mortimer, for introducing 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."

"Do you mean danger from this family fiend or do you mean danger from human beings?"

"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. "Meanwhile," 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 myself to make up my mind. Now, look here, Mr.

Holmes, it's halfpast eleven now and I am going back right away to my hotel. Suppose you and your

friend, Dr. Watson, come round and lunch with us at two. I'll be able to tell you more clearly then how this

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

"Your hat and boots, Watson, quick! Not a moment to lose!" He rushed into his room in his dressinggown

and was back again in a few seconds in a frockcoat. We hurried together down the stairs and into the street.

Dr. Mortimer and Baskerville were still visible about two hundred yards ahead of us in the direction of

"Not for the world, my dear Watson. I am perfectly satisfied with your company if you will tolerate mine.

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 instant after wards 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 proceeding slowly onward 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 beard and a pair of piercing eyes turned upon us through the side

window of the cab. Instantly the trapdoor 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 noempty one was in

sight. Then he dashed in wild pursuit amid the stream of the traffic, but the start was too great, and already

"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

"Well, it was evident from what we have heard that Basker ville 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 Northumberland

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

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

matter cuts very deep, and though I have not finally made up my mind whether it is a benevolent or a

malevolent agency which is in touch with us, I am conscious always of power and design. When our friends

left I at once followed them in the hopes of marking down their invisible attendant. 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

"My dear Watson, clumsy as I have been, you surely do not seriously imagine that I neglected to get the

"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 followed 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 opportunity of playing his own game upon himself and seeing where he made for. As it is, by an

indiscreet eagerness, which was taken advantage of with extraor dinary quickness and energy by our

We had been sauntering slowly down Regent Street during this conversation, and Dr. Mortimer, with his

"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

"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 offices, 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?"

"My dear fellow, you exaggerate. I have some recollection, Wilson, that you had among your boys a lad

"Could you ring him up? thank you! And I should be glad to have change of this fivepound note."

A lad of fourteen, with a bright, keen face, had obeyed the summons of the manager. He stood now gazing

"Let me have the Hotel Directory," said Holmes. "Thank you! Now, Cartwright, there are the names of

twentythree hotels here, all in the immediate neighbourhood of Charing Cross. Do you see?"

"You will begin in each case by giving the outside porter one shilling. Here are twentythree shillings."

"You will tell him that you want to see the wastepaper of yesterday. You will say that an important telegram

"But what you are really looking for is the centre 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 recognize it, could you not?"

"In each case the outside porter will send for the hall porter, to whom also you will give a shilling. Here are

twentythree shillings. You will then learn in possibly twenty cases out of the twentythree 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 picture galleries and fill in the time until we are due at the hotel."

Sherlock Holmes had, in a very remarkable degree, the power of detaching his mind at will. For two hours

the strange business in which we had been involved appeared to be forgotten, and he was entirely absorbed in

the pictures 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 our selves at the Northumberland Hotel.

"Sir Henry Baskerville is upstairs expecting you," said the clerk. "He asked me to show you up at once when

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

"Surely that must be the same Johnson whom I used to know," said Holmes to the porter. "A lawyer, is he

"No, sir, this is Mr. Johnson, the coalowner, a very active gentleman, not older than yourself."

"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

"She is an invalid lady, sir. Her husband was once mayor of Gloucester. She always comes to us when she is

"Thank you; I am afraid I cannot claim her acquaintance. We have established a most important fact by these

questions, Wat son," 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,

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 than any which

"Seems to me they are playing me for a sucker in this hotel," he cried. "They'll find they've stafted 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."

"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 leath ers, which I am wearing. Last night they took one of my brown ones, and today they have

sneaked one of the black. Well, have you got it? Speak out, man, and don't stand staring!"

"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 sundown or I'll see the manager and tell him that I go right straight

"It shall be found, sir I promise you that if you will have a little patience it will be found."

"Mind it is, for it's the last thing of mine that I'll lose in this den of thieves. Well, well, Mr. Holmes, you'll

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

"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 following the wrong one, but

We had a pleasant luncheon in which little was said of the business which had brought us together. It was in

the private sittingroom to which we afterwards repaired that Holmes asked Baskerville what were his

"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 millions 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 mischief, and we should be

powerless to prevent it. You did not know, Dr. Moftimer, that you were followed this morning from my

"That, unfortunately, is what I cannot tell you. Have you among your neighbours or acquaintances on

"No or, let me see why, yes. Barrymore, Sir Charles's butler, is a man with a full, black beard."

"We had best ascertain if he is really there, or if by any possibility he might be in London."

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

Hall. What is the nearest telegraphoffice? Grimpen. Very good, we will send a second wire to the

postmaster, Grimpen: 'Telegram to Mr. Barrymore to be delivered into his own hand. If absent, please return

wire to Sir Henry Baskerville, Northumberland Hotel.' That should let us know before evening whether

"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 respectable 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

"I hope," said Dr. Mortimer, "that you do not look with suspicious eyes upon everyone who received a legacy

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

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 question, Dr.

Mortimer. Suppos ing that anything happened to our young friend here you will forgive the unpleasant

"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 Westmoreland."

"Thank you. These details are all of great interest. 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 settlement from Sir Charles, though he pressed it upon him."

"He would be the heir to the estate because that is entailed. He would also be the heir to the money unless it

were willed otherwise by the present owner, who can, of course, do what he likes with it."

"No, Mr. Holmes, I have not. I've had no time, for it was only yesterday that I learned how matters stood. But

in any case I feel that the money should go with the title and estate. That was my poor uncle's idea. How is

the owner going to restore the glories of the Baskervilles if he has not money enough to keep up the property?

"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."

"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

"If matters came to a crisis I should endeavour to be present in person; but you can understand that, with my

extensive con sulting 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 present instant one of the most

revered names in England is being besmirched by a black mailer, and only I can stop a disastrous scandal.

"If my friend would undertake it there is no man who is better worth having at your side when you are in a

The proposition took me completely by surprise, but before I had time to answer, Baskerville seized me by

"Well, now, that is real kind of you, Dr. Watson," said he. "You see how it is with me, and you know just as

much about the matter as I do. If you will come down to Baskerville Hall and see me through I'll never forget

The promise of adventure had always a fascination for me, and I was complimented by the words of Holmes

"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 will direct

"Then on Saturday, unless you hear to the contrary, we shall meet at the tenthirty train from Paddington."

We had risen to depart when Baskerville gave a cry, of triumph, and diving into one of the corners of the

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

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 constant and apparently purposeless series of small mysteries 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 receipt of the printed letter, the

blackbearded 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 apparently disconnected episodes could be fitted. All afternoon and

"There go two of my threads, Watson. There is nothing more stimulating than a case where everything goes

"Exactly. I haw wired to get his name and address from the Official Registry. I should not be surprised if this

The ring at the bell proved to be something even more satis factory than an answer, however, for the door

"I got a message from the head office that a gent at this address had been inquiring for No. 2704," said he.

"I've driven my cab this seven years and never a word of complaint. I came here straight from the Yard to ask

"I have nothing in the world against you, my good man," said Holmes. "On the contrary, I have half a

"Well, I've had a good day and no mistake," said the cabman with a grin. "What was it you wanted to ask,

"John Clayton, 3 Turpey Street, the Borough. My cab is out of Shipley's Yard, near Waterloo Station."

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

The man looked surprised and a little embarrassed. "Why there's no good my telling you things, for you seem

to know as much as I do already," said he. "The truth is that the gentleman told me that he was a detective

"My good fellow; this is a very serious business, 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?"

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

Never have I seen my friend more completely taken aback than by the cabman's reply. For an instant he sat in

"A touch, Watson an undeniable touch!" said he. "I feel a foil as quick and supple as my own. He got

"He hailed me at halfpast 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 Northumberland Hotel and waited there until two gentlemen came out and took a cab

"Well, I couldn't be sure of that, but I dare say my fare knew all about it. We pulled up halfway down the

street and waited an hour and a half. Then the two gentlemen passed us, walking, and we followed down

"Until we got threequarters 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

The cabman scratched his head. "Well, he wasn't altogether such an easy gentleman to describe. I'd put him at

forty years of age, and he was of a middle height, two or three inches shorter 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

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

John Clayton departed chuckling, and Holmes turned to me with a shrug of his 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 sending you. It's an ugly business, Watson, an ugly dangerous business, and the more 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

Sir Henry Baskerville and Dr. Mortimer 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

"I will not bias your mind by suggesting theories or suspi cions, 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."

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

between young Baskerville and his neighbours or any fresh particulars concern ing 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

"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 entirely 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."

"Most certainly. Keep your revolver near you night and day, and never relax your precautions."

Our friends had already secured a firstclass carriage 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

"Except yesterday afternoon. I usually give up one day to pure amusement when I come to town, so I spent it

"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

"Indeed. That is very interesting. Well, goodbye," 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. Mortimer has read to us and

I looked back at the plafform when we had left it far behind and saw the tall, austere figure of Holmes

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. Mortimer's spaniel. In a very few hours the brown earth had become

ruddy, the brick had changed to granite, and red cows grazed in wellhedged fields where the lush grasses

and more luxuriant vegetation spoke of a richer, if a damper, climate. Young Baskerville stared eagerly out of

the window and cried aloud with delight as he recognized the famil ar 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

"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.

"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

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

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

hill, with a strange jagged summit, dim and vague in the distance, like some fantastic landscape 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

railwaycarriage, 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 highblooded, fiery, and masterful 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

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 stationmaster 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 sol dierly 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 the broad, white road. Rolling pasture lands

curved upward on either side of us, and old gabled houses peeped out from amid the thick green foliage, but

behind the peaceful and sunlit countryside there rose ever, dark against the evening sky, the long, gloomy

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

wheels, high banks on either side, heavy with dripping moss and fleshy hart'stongue 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

gray boul ders. Both road and stream wound up through a valley dense with scrub oak and fir. At every turn

Baskerville gave an excla mation of delight, looking eagerly about him and asking count less questions. To

his eyes all seemed beautiful, but to me a tinge of melancholy lay upon the countryside, 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 before the carriage of the returning heir of the Baskervilles.

A steep curve of heathclad 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

"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

"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 convict. This is a man that would stick at nothing."

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 wagonette had topped a rise and in front of us rose the huge expanse of the moor, mottled

with gnarled and craggy caims 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

suggestive ness of the barren waste, the chilling wind, and the darkling sky. Even Baskerville fell silent and

We had left the fertile country behind and beneath 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 moorland cottage, walled and roofed with

stone, with no creeper to break its harsh outline. Suddenly we looked down into a cuplike depression, patched

with stunted oaks and fus which had been twisted and bent by the fury of years of storm. Two high, narrow

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 on either

side, blotched with lichens, and summounted 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 constructed, the first fruit of Sir

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

"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 block rose the twin towers, ancient, crenellated, and pierced with many loopholes. To right

and left of the turrets were more modern wings of black granite. A dull light shone through heavy mullioned

windows, and from the high chimneys which rose from the steep, highangled roof there sprang a single

A tall man had stepped from the shadow of the porch to open the door of the wagonette. The figure of a

woman was silhouet ted against the yellow light of the hall. She came out and helped the man to hand down

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

"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. Goodbye, and never hesitate night or day to send for me if I can be

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 heavily raftered with huge

baulks of ageblackened oak. In the great oldfashioned fireplace behind the high iron dogs a logfire

crackled and snapped. Sir 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

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

welltrained servant. He was a remarkablelooking man, tall, handsome, with a square black beard and pale,

"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

"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."

"But your family have been with us for several generations, have they not? I should be sorry to begin my life

"I feel that also, sir, and so does my wife. But to tell the truth, sir, we were both very much attached to Sir

Charles and his death gave us a shock and made these surroundings very painful to us. I fear that we shall

"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 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

But the diningroom 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 overlooked it. Black beams shot across above our heads, with a smokedarkened

ceiling beyond them. With rows of flaring torches to light it up, and the colour and rude hilarity of an

oldtime 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 sub dued. A dim line of

ancestors, in every variety of dress, from the Elizabethan knight to the buck of the Regency, stared down

upon us and daunted us by their silent company. We talked little, and I for one was glad when the meal was

over and we were able to retire into the modern billiardroom and smoke a cigarette.

"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 don't wonder that my uncle got a little jumpy if he lived all alone in such a

house as this. However, if it suits you, we will retire early tonight, and perhaps things may seem more

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 curtain, feeling that my last impression

And yet it was not quite the last. I found myself weary and yet wakeful, tossing restlessly from side to side,

seeking for the sleep which would not come. Far away a chiming clock struck out the quarters of the hours,

but otherwise a deathly silence lay upon the old house. And then suddenly, in the very dead of the night, there

came a sound to my ears, clear, resonant, and unmistakable. It was the sob of a woman, the muffled,

strangling gasp of one who is torn by an uncontrollable sorrow. I sat up in bed and listened intently. The

noise could not have been far away and was certainly in the house. For half an hour I waited with every nerve

on the alert, but there came no other sound save the chiming clock and the rustle of the ivy on the wall.

The fresh beauty of the following morning did something to efface from our minds the grim and gray

impression which had been left upon both of us by our first experience of Baskerville Hall. As Sir Henry and

I sat at breakfast the sunlight flooded in through the high mullioned windows, throwing 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

"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 gray view of the place. Now we are fresh and well, so it is all

"And yet it was not entirely a question of imagination," I answered. "Did you, for example, happen to hear

"That is curious, for I did when I was half asleep fancy that I heard something of the sort. I waited quite a

"We must ask about this right away." He rang the bell and asked Barrymore whether he could account for our

experience. It seemed to me that the pallid features of the butler turned a shade paler still as he listened to his

"There are only two women in the house, Sir Henry," he answered. "One is the scullerymaid, 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, heavyfeatured woman with a stern set expression of

mouth. But her telltale 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

palefaced, handsome, blackbearded man there was gathering an atmosphere of mys tery 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 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

somewhat shorter man, but such an impression might easily have been erroneous. How could I settle the point

forever? Obviously the first thing to do was to see the Grimpen postmaster and find whether the test telegram

had really been placed in Barrymore's own hands. Be the answer what it might, I should at least have

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 gray hamlet, in

which two larger buildings, which proved to be the inn and the house of Dr. Mortimer, stood high above the

rest. The postmaster, 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."

"My boy here. James, you delivered that telegram to Mr. Barrymore at the Hall last week, did you not?"

"Well, he was up in the loft at the time, so that I could not put it into his own hands, but I gave it into Mrs.

"Well, surely his own wife ought to know where he is," said the postmaster testily. "Didn't he get the

It seemed hopeless to pursue the inquiry any farther, but it was clear that in spite of Holmes's ruse we had no

proof that Barry more 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 conceivable 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 secured for the

Barrymores. But surely such an explanation as that would be quite inadequate to 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 gray, lonely road, that my friend might soon be freed from his

preoccupations and able to come down to take this heavy burden of responsibility from my shoulders.

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of run ning 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, primfaced man, flaxenhaired and leanjawed, between

thirty and forty years of age, dressed in a gray suit and wearing a straw hat. A tin box for botanical specimens

"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 introduc tions. 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 naturalist. But

"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

"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 countryside. Sir Henry has, I suppose, no superstitious fears in the

"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 seri ously. "The story took a great hold upon the imagination of Sir Charles, and I

"His nerves were so worked up that the appearance of any dog might have had a fatal effect upon his diseased

heart. I fancy that he really did see something of the kind upon that last night in the yew alley. I feared that

some disaster might occur, for I was very fond of the old man, and I knew that his heart was weak."

"You think, then, that some dog pursued Sir Charles, and that he died of fright in consequence?"

The words took away my breath for an instant but a glance at the placid face and steadfast eyes of my

"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."

"He cannot leave town at present. He has other cases which engage his attention."

"What a pity! He might throw some light on 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 command me. If I had any

indication of the nature of your suspicions or how you propose to investigate the case, I might perhaps even

"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 perfectly right to be wary and discreet. I am justly reproved for what I

feel was an unjustifiable intrusion, 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, bouldersprinkled hill lay upon the right which had in bygone days been cut into a granite

quarry. The face which was turned towards us formed a dark cliff, with ferns and brambles growing in its

"A moderate walk along this moorpath brings us to Merripit House," said he. "Perhaps you will spare an

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 littered. It was certain that I could not help with those. And Holmes had

expressly said that I should study the neighbours upon the moor. I accepted Stapleton's invitation, and we

"It is a wonderful place, the moor," said he, looking 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 mysterious."

"I have only been here two years. The residents would call me a newcomer. We came shortly after Sir

Charles settled. But my tastes led me to explore every part of the country round, and I should think that there

"Very hard. You see, for example, this great plain to the north here with the queer hills breaking out of it. Do

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

"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 wander into it. He never came out. I saw his head for quite a long time craning

out of the boghole, but it sucked him down at last. Even in dry seasons 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

Something brown was rolling and tossing among the green sedges. Then a long, agonized, writhing neck shot

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

"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 clutches. It's a bad

"Yes, there are one or two paths which a very active man can take. I have found them out."

"Well, you see the hills beyond? They are 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 butterflies are, if you have

"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."

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 expression in his face.

"The peasants say it is the Hound of the Baskervilles calling for its prey. I've heard it once or twice before,

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

"You are an educated man. You don't believe such nonsense as that?" said I. "What do you think is the cause

"Bogs make queer noises sometimes. It's the mud settling, or the water rising, or something."

"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."

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

The whole steep slope was covered with gray circular rings of stone, a score of them at least.

"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.

"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 extraordinary

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 instant, bounding from tuft to tuft behind it, his green net waving in the air.

His gray 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 extraor dinary 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 Stapleton of whom I had been told, since ladies of any sort must be

few upon the moor, and I remembered that I had heard someone describe her as being a beauty. The woman

who approached me was certainly that, and of a most uncommon type. There could not have been a greater

contrast between brother and sister, for Stapleton was neutral tinted, with light hair and gray eyes, while she

was darker than any brunette whom I have seen in England slim, elegant, 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

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

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

"Man, man!" she cried. "Can you not tell when a warning is for your own good? Go back to London! Start

tonight! 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 mare'stails 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 exertions.

"Halloa, Beryl!" said he, and it seemed to me that the tone of his greeting was not altogether a cordial one.

"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 incessantly from the girl

"Yes. I was telling Sir Henry that it was rather late for him to see the true beauties of the moor."

"No, no," said I. "Only a humble commoner, but his friend. My name is Dr. Watson."

A flush of vexation passed over her expressive 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

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 effect of the whole place was mean and melancholy.

We were admitted by a strange, wizened, rusty coated old manservant, who seemed in keeping with the

house. Inside, however, there were large rooms furnished with an ele gance in which I seemed to recognize

the taste of the lady. As I looked from their windows at the interminable graniteflecked moor rolling

unbroken to the farthest horizon I could not but marvel at what could have brought this highly educated man

"Queer spot to choose, is it not?" said he as if in answer to my thought. "And yet we manage to make

"I had a school," said Stapleton. "It was in the north coun try. The work to a man of my temperament was

mechanical and uninteresting, but the privilege of living with youth, of helping to mould those young minds,

and of impressing them with one's own character and ideals was very dear to me. However, the fates were

against us. A serious epidemic broke out in the school and three of the boys died. It never recovered from the

blow, and much of my capital was irretrievably swallowed up. And yet, if it were not for the loss of the

charming companionship of the boys, I could rejoice over my own misfortune, for, with my strong tastes for

botany and zoology, I find an unlimited field of work here, and my sister is as devoted to Nature as I am. All

this, Dr. Watson, has been brought upon your head by your expression as you surveyed the moor out of our

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

"We have books, we have our studies, and we have interest ing 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 afternoon and make the

"Then perhaps you would mention that I propose to do so. We may in our humble way do something to make

things more easy for him until he becomes accustomed to his new surround ings. Will you come upstairs,

Dr. Watson, and inspect my collection of Lepidoptera? I think it is the most complete one in the southwest

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 unfortunate pony, the

weird sound which had been associated with the grim legend of the Basker villes, all these things tinged my

thoughts with sadness. Then on the top of these more or less vague impressions there had come the definite

and distinct warning of Miss Stapleton, delivered with such intense 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

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

"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

"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 return to London."

"A woman's whim, Dr. Watson. When you know me better you will understand that I cannot always give

"No, no. I remember the thrill in your voice. I remembe 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

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

"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 the 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

"But I do. If you have any influence with Sir Henry, take him away from a place which has always 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

"I would ask you one more question, Miss Stapleton. 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 nothing to which he, or

"My brother is very anxious to have the Hall inhabited, for he thinks it is for the good of the poor folk upon

the moor. He would be very angry if he knew that I have 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 go back, or he will miss me and suspect

that I have seen you. Goodbye!" She turned and had disappeared in a few minutes among the scattered

boulders, while I, with my soul full of vague fears, pursued my way to Baskerville Hall.

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

Holmes which lie before me on the table. One page is missing, but otherwise they are exactly as written and

show my feelings and suspicions of the moment more accurately than my memory, clear as it is upon these

My previous letters and telegrams have kept you pretty well up to date as to all that has occurred in this most

Godforsaken 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

gray stone huts against the scarred hillsides you leave your own age behind you, and if you were to see a

skinclad, hairy man crawl out from the low door fitting a flinttipped arrow on to the string of his bow, you

wouid 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 antiquarian, but I could imagine

that they were some unwarlike and harried race who were forced to accept that which none other would

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

your severely practical mind. I can still remember your complete indifference as to whether the sun moved

round the earth or the earth round the sun. Let me, therefore, return to the facts concerning Sir Henry

If you have not had any report within the last few days it is because up to today there was nothing of

importance to relate. Then a very surprising 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 situation.

One of these, concerning which I have said little, is the escaped convict upon the moor. There is strong

reason now to believe that he has got right away, which is a considerable relief to the lonely householders of

this district. A fortnight has 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 hidingplace. 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 ablebodied 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 manser vant, 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

The fact is that our friend, the baronet, begins to display a considerable interest in our fair neighbour. It is not

to be won dered 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 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

approbation 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 between 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 affairs of men. He spoke lightly, but it was evident

that he was very much in earnest. Stapleton was guarded in his replies, but it was easy to see that he said less

than 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 families had suffered from some evil influence, and he left us with

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 tonight, 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

disapprobation 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 teteatete. By the way, your instructions to me never to allow Sir Henry to go out alone will become

very much more onerous if a love affair were to be added to our other difficulties. My popularity would soon

The other day Thursday, to be more exact Dr. Mortimer lunched with us. He has been excavating a

barrow at Long Down and has got a prehistoric skull which fills him with great joy. Never was there such a

singleminded 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 tumbledown summerhouse. Halfway down is the moor gate, where the old

gentleman left his cigarash. It is a white wooden gate with a latch. Beyond it lies the wide moor. I

remembered your theory of the affair and tried to picture all that had occurred. As the old man stood there he

saw something coming across the moor, something which terrified him so that he lost his wits and ran and ran

until he died of sheer horror and exhaustion. There was the long, gloomy tunnel down which he fled. And

from what? A sheepdog 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 say? It was all dim and

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, redfaced, whitehaired, and cho leric. 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

immemorial, defying the owner to prosecute him for trespass. He is learned in old manorial and communal

rights, and he applies his knowledge sometimes in favour of the villagers of Fernworthy and sometimes

against them, so that he is periodi cally 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, goodnatured person, and I only mention him because

you were particular that I should send some descrip tion of the people who surround us. He is curiously

employed at 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 because he dug up the

neolithic skull in the barrow on Long Down. He helps to keep our lives from being monotonous and gives a

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

First of all about the test telegram, which you sent from London in order to make sure that Barrymore 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 received the telegram himself.

"No," said he, "I was in the boxroom at the time, and my wife brought it up to me."

"I could not quite understand the object of your questions this morning, Sir Henry," said he. "I trust that they

Sir Henry had to assure him that it was not so and pacify him by giving him a considerable part of his old

Mrs. Barrymore is of interest to me. She is a heavy, solid person, very limited, intensely respectable, 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. Sometimes 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 adven ture of last night brings all

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 circumspectly, and there

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

motionless. 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 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. Instantly 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.

If I was compelled 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, considera bly 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

Before breakfast on the morning following my adventure I went down the corridor and examined the room in

which Barry more had been on thenight 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 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, therefore, that Barry more, since only this window would serve the purpose, must have been

looking out for something or somebody upon the moor. The night was very dark, 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 intrigue was on

foot. That would have accounted for his stealthy movements and also for the uneasiness of his wife. The man

is a strikinglooking 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 whlch 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 myself in the

morning, and I tell you the direction of my suspicions, however much the result may have shown that they

But whatever the true explanation of Barrymore's movements might be, I felt that the responsibility of

keeping them to myself until I could explain them was more than I could bear. I had an interview with the

baronet in his study after breakfast, and I told him all that I had seen. He was less surprised than I had

"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 hls 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

"I believe that he would do exactly what you now suggest," said I. "He would follow Barrymore and see what

"The man is rather deaf, and in any case we must take our chance of that. We'll sit up in my room tonight

and wait until he passes." Sir Henry rubbed his hands with pleasure, and it was evident that he hailed the

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 Plym outh, 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 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 seldom seen a man more infatuated with a woman than he is

with our beautiful neighbour, Miss Stapleton. And yet the course of true love does not run quite as smoothly

as one would under the circumstances expect. Today, for example, its surface 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.

"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."

"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 understand me? I am sure that you are the last man in the world who

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

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 instructions. 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

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 off. There, fearing that perhaps I had come in the wrong direction after all, I

mounted a hill from which I could command a view the same hill which is cut 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 ap pointment. They were walking slowly along in deep conversa tion, 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 instant 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

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 butterflynet. 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 Stapleton to his side. His arm was round her, but it 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 moment I

saw them spring apart and turn hurriedly round. Stapleton was the cause of the interruption. 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 imagine, but it seemed to me that Stapleton was

abusing 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 beckoned 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 displea sure. 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

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 wit's ends what to do.

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

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 frankness disarmed

"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 countryside seems to have been out to see me do my wooing and a mighty poor

"Quite in the back row, eh? But her brother was well up to the front. Did you see him come out on us?"

"I dare say not. I always thought him sane enough until today, but you can take it from me that either he or I

ought to be in a straitjacket. 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 prevent me from making a good husband to a

"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

"That, and a deal more. I tell you, Watson, I've only known her these few weeks, but from the first I just felt

that she was made for me, and she, too she was happy when she was with me, and that I'll swear. There's a

light in a woman's eyes that speaks louder than words. But he has never let us get together and it was only

today 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 coming 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 dared I offer 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 towards his sister were such as I was

not ashamed of, and that I hoped that she might honour me by becoming my wife. That seemed to make the

matter no better, so then I lost my temper too, and I answered him rather more hotly than I should perhaps,

consider ing 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 I'll owe you more than

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 appearance 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 with out any

reference to the lady's own wishes and that the lady should accept the situation without protest is very

amazing. However, our conjectures were set at rest by a visit from Stapleton himself that very afternoon. He

had come to offer apologies for his rudeness of the morning, and after a long private interview with Sir Henry

in his study the upshot of their conversation was that the breach is quite healed, and that we are to dine at

"l don't say now that he isn't a crazy man," said Sir Henry "I can't forget the look in his 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."

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

her value. They have always been together, and according to his account he has been a very lonely man with

only her as a companion, 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 recognized how foolish and how selfish it

was that he should imagine that he could hold a beautiful woman like his sister to himself for her whole life.

If she had to leave him he had rather it was to a 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

content with cultivating the lady's friendship during that time without claiming her love. This I promised, and

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 eligible 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 tearstained 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 confi dence

which you showed in me when you sent me down. All these things have by one night's work been thoroughly

I have said "by one night's work," but, in truth, it was by two nights' work, for on the first we drew entirely

blank. I sat up with Sir Henry in his rooms 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 without making the least sound. It was incredible how

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 second time given it up in despair when in an instant 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

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 corridor was all in

darkness. Softly we stole along untii we had come into the other wing. We were just in time to catch a

glimpse of the tall, blackbearded figure, his shoulders rounded as he tiptoed 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 shuffled cautiously towards it, trying every plank

before we dared to put our whole weight upon it. We had taken the precaution of leaving our boots behind us,

but, even so, the old boards snapped and creaked beneath our tread. Some times it seemed impossible that

he should fail to hear our ap proach. However, the man is fortunately rather deaf, and he was entirely

preoccupied in that which he was doing. When at last we reached the door and peeped through we found him

crouching at the window, candle in hand, his white, intent face pressed against the pane, exactly as I had seen

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

"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."

"Look here, Barrymore," said Sir Henry sternly, "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

The fellow looked at us in a helpless way, and he wrung his hands together like one who is in the last

"Don't ask me, Sir Henry don't ask me! I give you my word, sir, that it is not my secret, and that I cannot

tell it. If it concerned no one but myself I would not try to keep it from you."

A sudden idea occurred to me, and I took the candle from the trembling hand of the butler.

"He must have been holding it as a signal," said I. "Let us see if there is any answer." I held it as he had done,

and stared out into the darkness of the night. Vaguely I could discern the black bank of the trees and the

lighter expanse of the moor, for the moon was behind the clouds. And then I gave a cry of exultation, for a

tiny pinpoint of yellow light had suddenly transfixed the dark veil, and glowed steadily in the centre of the

"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 confeder ate out yonder, and what is

"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

"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

"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."

"That's the truth, sir," said Barrymore. "I said 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 amazement. Was it possible that this stolidly respectable person was of the

"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 curlyheaded 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 was over, so he lay in hiding there. But every

second night we made sure if he was still there by putting 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

The woman's words came with an intense earnestness which carried conviction with them.

"Well, I cannot blame you for standing by your own wife. Forget what I have said. Go to your room, you two,

When they were gone we looked out of the window 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

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

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.

"Then get your revolver and put on your boots. The sooner we start the better, as the fellow may put out his

In five minutes we were outside the door, starting 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 thin rain began to fall. The light still

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

"I say, Watson," said the baronet, "what would Holmes say to this? How about that hour of darkness in which

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 mutter 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

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

My blood ran cold in my veins, for there was a break in his voice which told of the sudden horror which had

"A hound it was," he said at last, "but it seemed to come from miles away, over yonder, I think."

"It rose and fell with the wind. Isn't that the direction of the great Grimpen Mire?"

"Well, it was up there. Come now, Watson, didn't you think yourself that it was the cry of a hound? I am not

"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

"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.

"I don't think I'll get that cry out of my head. What do you advise that we do now?"

"No, by thunder; we have come out to get our man, and we will do it. We after the convict, and a hellhound,

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

pitchdark 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 being visible, save in the direction of Baskerville

Hall. A boulder of granite concealed our approach, 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.

"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

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 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

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, having abandoned the hopeless chase. The moon was low upon the right,

and the jagged pinnacle of a granite tor stood up against the lower curve of its silver disc. There, outlined as

black as an ebony statue on that shining background, I saw the figure 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 brooding 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 cutting the lower edge of the moon, but its peak bore no

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 recalled 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 commanding attitude had given to me. "A warder, no doubl," said he. "The moor has been

thick with them since this fellow escaped." Well, perhaps his explanation may be the right one, but I should

like to have some further proof of it. Today 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 triumph 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 conclusilons. We are certainly

making some prog ress. 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.

So far I have been able to quote from the reports which I have forwarded during these early days to Sherlock

Holmes. Now, however, 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

October 16th. A dull and foggy day with a drizzle 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

And have I not cause for such a feeling? Consider 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 peas ants of

the appearance of a strange creature upon the moor. Twice I have with my own ears heard the sound which

resem bled 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 hellfire 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 explana tion offers almost as many 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

protecting 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 behind us, and I am certain that he could not have followed us. A stranger then is still dogging

us, just as a stranger dogged us in London. We have never shaken him off. If I 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

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 ta anyone. He is silent and distrait. His nerves have been strangely shaken by that

sound upon the moor. I will say nothing to add to his anxieties, but I will take my own steps to attain my own

We had a small scene this morning after breakfast. Barrymore asked leave to speak with Sir Henry, and they

were closeted in his study some little time. Sitting in the billiardroom I more than once heard the sound of

voices raised, and I had a pretty good idea what the point was which was under discussion. After a time the

"Barrymore considers that he has a grievance," he said. "He thinks that it was unfair on our part to hunt his

"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 morning and learned that

you had been chasing Selden. The poor fellow has enough to fight against without my putting more upon his

"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 yourself."

"I didn't think you would have taken advantage of it, Sir Henry indeed I didn't."

"The man is a public danger. There are lonely houses scat tered 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. Stapleton's house,

for example, with no one but himself to defend it. There's no safety for anyone untill he is under lock and

"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 arrangements 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

I shrugged my shoulders. "If he were safely out of the country it would relieve the taxpayer of a burden."

"He would not do anything so mad, sir. We have provided him with all that he can want. To commit a crime

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

"I guess we are aiding and abetting a felony, Watson? But, after what we have heard I don't feel as if I could

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."

"I can't give you the name, sir, but I can give you the initials. Her initials were L. L."

"Well, Sir Henry, your uncle had a letter that morning. He had usually a great many letters, for he was a

public man and well known for his kind heart, so that everyone who was in trouble was glad to turn to him.

But that morning, as it chanced, there was only this one letter, so I took the more notice of it. It was from

"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 gray on a

black ground. It seemed to us to be a postscript at the end of the letter and it said: 'Please, please, as you are a

gentleman, burn this letter, and be at the gate by ten o clock. Beneath it were signed the initials L. L."

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

"No, sir. No more than you have. But I expect if we could lay our hands upon that lady we should know more

"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 "

"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

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

"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 someone 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

I went at once to my room and drew up my report 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 informa tion which I had supplied and hardly any reference to my mis sion. No

doubt his blackmailing case is absorbing all his faculties. And yet this new factor must surely arrest his

October 17th. All day today 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! Whatever 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 deluged 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 beating upon my face

and the wind whis tling 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, slatecoloured clouds hung low over the land scape, trailing in gray wreaths

down the sides of the fantastic hills. In the distant hollow 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

As I walked back I was overtaken by Dr. Mortimer driving in his dogcart 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

dogcart, and he gave me a lift homeward. 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

"No," said he. "There are a few gipsies and 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

"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 per haps 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."

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

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 living. 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 telling him too

much, for there is no reason why we should take anyone into our confidence. Tomorrow 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 inconvenient extent I asked him

casually to what type Frank land's skull belonged, and so heard nothing but craniology for the rest of our

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

"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

"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

"Now, listen to me, Barrymore! I have no interest 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 regretted his outburst or found it difficult to express his own

"It's all these goingson, sir," he cried at last, waving his hand towards the rainlashed window which faced

the moor. "There's foul play somewhere, and there's black villainy brew ing, to that I'll swear! Very glad I

"Look at Sir Charles's death! That was bad 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 watching 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

"But about this stranger," said I. "Can you tell me anything about him? What did Selden say? Did he find out

"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

"Among the old houses on the hillside the stone huts where the old folk used to live."

"Selden found out that he has got a lad who works for him and brings all he needs. I dare say he goes to

"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 and at the tossing outline

of the windswept trees. It is a wild night indoors, and what must it be in a stone hut upon the moor. What

passion of hatred can it be which leads a man to lurk in such a place at such a time! And what deep and

earnest purpose can he have which calls for such a trial! There, in that hut 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

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

of October, a time when these strange events began to move swiftly towards their terrible conclusion. 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 them 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 written to Sir

Charles Baskerville and made an appointment 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 hillside. With these

two facts in my possession I felt that either my intelligence or my courage must be deficient if I could not

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 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 information we might obtain. I left Sir Henry behind, therefore,

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 cere mony, and as I entered the sittingroom 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 considerably 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 some thing subtly wrong with the face, some

coarseness of expres sion, some hardness, perhaps, of eye, some looseness of lip which marred its perfect

beauty. But these, of course, are after thoughts. At the moment I was simply conscious that I was in the

presence of a very handsome woman, and that she was asking me the reasons for my visit. I had not quite

"I have the pleasure," said I, "of knowing your father." It was a clumsy introduction, and the lady made me

"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

"It was about the late Sir Charles Baskerville that I have come here to see you."

"What can I tell you about him?" she asked, and her fingers played nervously over the stops of her typewriter.

"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 object is to avoid a public scandal. It is better that I should ask them here than that the matter should

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

"I certainly wrote to him once or twice to acknowledge his delicacy and his generosity."

"Yes, once or twice, when he came into Coombe Tracey. He was a very retiring man, and he preferred to do

"But if you saw him so seldom and wrote so seldom, how did he know enough about your affairs to be able to

"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

I knew already that Sir Charles Baskerville had made Stapleton his almoner upon several occasions, so the

The flush had faded in an instant, and a deathly face was before me. Her dry lips could not speak the "No"

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

"You do Sir Charles an injustice. He did burn the letter. But sometimes a letter may be legible even when

"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 I had an interview I could

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

"No, I swear it to you on all I hold sacred. I never went. Something intervened to prevent my going."

"You acknowledge then that you made an appointment with Sir Charles at the very hour and place at which

"Mrs. Lyons," said I as I rose from this long and inconclu sive interview, "you are taking a very great

responsibility and putting yourself in a very false position by not making an absolutely clean breast of all that

you know. If I have to call in the aid of the police you will find how seriously you are compro mised. If

your position is innocent, why did you in the first instance deny having written to Sir Charles upon that

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

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

why it was that you were so pressing that Sir Charles should destroy this letter which he received on the day

"I will tell you, then. If you have heard anything of my unhappy history you will know that I made a rash

"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 there was a prospect of my regaining my freedom if certain expenses

could be met. It meant everything to me peace of mind, happiness, selfrespect everything. I knew Sir

Charles's generosity, and I thought that if he heard the story from my own lips he would help me."

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

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 probability was, there fore, that she

was telling the truth, or, at least, a part of the truth. I came away baffled 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 face and of her manner the more I felt that something 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

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 experience 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 until

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, 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

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, graywhiskered and

redfaced, outside the gate of bis garden, which opened on to the highroad along which I travelled.

"Goodday, Dr. Watson," cried he with unwonted good humour, "you must really give your horses a rest and

My feelings towards him were very far from being friendly after what I had heard of his treatment of his

daughter, but I was anxious to send Perkins and the wagonette home, and the oppor tunity was a good one. I

alighted and sent a message to Sir Henry that I should walk over in time for dinner. Then I fol lowed

"It is a great day for me, sir one of the redletter 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 they cannot ride roughshod over the rights of the commoners, confound them! And I've closed

the wood where the Fernworthy folk used to picnic. These infernal 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

"Look it up in the books, sir. It will repay reading Frankland v. Morland, Court of Queen's Bench. It cost

"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 example, that the Fernworthy people will burn me in effigy tonight. I told the

police last time they did it that they should stop these disgraceful exhibitions. The County Constabu lary 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

"Because I could tell them what they are dying to know; but nothing would induce me to help the rascals in

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

"Ha, ha, my boy, a very much more important matter than that! What about the convict on the moor?"

"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

He certainly seemed to be getting uncomfortably near the truth. "No doubt," said I; "but how do you know

"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 busybody. But his

"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

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

"I should say that it was much more likely that it was the son of one of the moorland shepherds taking out his

The least appearance of opposition struck fire out of the old autocrat. His eyes looked malignantly at me, and

"Indeed, sir!" said he, pointing out over the widestretching moor. "Do you see that Black Tor over yonder?

Well, do you see the low hill beyond with the thornbush upon it? It is the stoniest part of the whole moor. Is

that a place where a shepherd would be likely to take his station? 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

"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 something moving upon that

It was several miles off, but I could distinctly see a small dark dot against the dull green and gray.

"Come, sir, come!" cried Frankland, rushing upstairs. "You will see with your own eyes and judge for

The telescope, a formidable instrument mounted upon a tri pod, stood upon the flat leads of the house.

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 ragged 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

"And what the errand is even a county constable could guess. But not one word shall they have from me, and

"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 off 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 persever ance that I should miss the chance which fortune had

The sun was already sinking when I reached the summit of the hill, and the long slopes beneath me were all

goldengreen on one side and gray shadow on the other. A haze lay low upon the farthest skyline, 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 gray 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 nowhere

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 retained 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

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 habita tion. 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. Throwing aside my cigarette, I closed my hand upon the butt of my revolver and, walking swiftly

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 man had once

slumbered. The ashes of a fire were heaped in a rude grate. Beside it lay some cooking utensils and a bucket

halffull of water. A litter of empty tins showed that the place had been occupied for some time, and I saw, as

my eyes became accustomed to the checkered light, a pannikin and a halffull 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 message. It was I,

then, and not Sir Henry, who was being aogged by this secret man. He had not followed me himself, but he

had set an agent the boy, perhaps upon my track, and this was his report. Possibly I had taken no step

since I had been upon the moor which had not been observed and reported. Always there was this feeling of

an unseen force, a fine net drawn round us with infinite skill and delicacy, holding us so lightly that it was

only at some supreme moment that one realized that one was indeedentangled 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 habits and cared little

for the comforts of life. When I thought of the heavy rains and looked at the gaping roof I understood how

strong and immutable must be the purpose which had kept him in that 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

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

vagueness 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 hut and waited with sombre patience for the coming of its tenant.

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

yet another, coming nearer and nearer. I shrank back into the darkest corner and cocked the pistol in my

pocket, determined not to discover myself until I had an opportunity of seeing something of the stranger.

There was a long pause which showed that he had stopped. Then once more the footsteps approached and a

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

For a moment or two I sat breathless, hardly 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

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

as they fell upon my astonished features. 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 catlike love of personal cleanliness which was one of his

characteristics, that his chin should be as smooth and his linen as perfect 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.

"The surprise was not all on one side, I assure you. I had no idea that you had found my occasional retreat,

still less that you were inside it, until I was within twenty paces of the door."

"No, Watson, I fear that I could not undertake to recognize your footprint amid all the footprints of the world.

If you seri ously 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 supreme moment when you charged into the

"I thought as much and knowing your admirable 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?"

"Excellent, Watson! And how did you localize me? You saw me, perhaps, on the night of the convict hunt,

"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.

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

"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 blackmailing."

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

"My dear fellow, you have been invaluable to me in this as in many other cases, and I beg that you will

forgive me if I have seemed to play a trick upon you. In truth, it was partly for your own sake that I did it, and

it was my appreciation of the danger 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."

"For you to know could not have helped us and might possi bly 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

"Then my reports have all been wasted!" My voice trem bled as I recalled the pains and the pride with

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

and they are only delayed one day upon their way. I must compliment you ex ceedingly upon the zeal and

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 today it is exceedingly probable that I should have gone tomorrow."

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 unable to bridge

in this most complex affair. You are aware, perhaps, that a close intimacy exists between this lady and the

"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 "

"I am giving you some information now, in return for all that you have given me. The lady who has passed

"Good heavens, Holmes! Are you sure of what you say? How could he have permitted Sir Henry to fall in

"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

"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 naturalist. In that

impassive colourless man, with his straw hat and his butterflynet, I seemed to see something terrible a

creature of infinite patience and craft, with a smiling face and a murderous heart.

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

"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 dare say he has many a time regretted it since. He was once a schoolmaster 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

"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 herself and her

husband. In that case, regarding Stapleton as an unmarried man, she counted no doubt upon becoming his

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

Don't you think, Watson, that you are away from your charge rather long? Your place should be at

The last red streaks had faded away in the west and night had settled upon the moor. A few faint stars were

"One last question, Holmes," I said as I rose. "Surely there is no need of secrecy between you and me. What

"It is murder, Watson refined, coldblooded, deliberate mur der. 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 and I have my case com plete, but until then guard your charge as

closely as ever a fond mother watched her ailing child. Your mission today has justi fied itself, and yet I

A terrible scream a prolonged yell of horror and anguish burst out of the silence of the moor. That

Holmes had sprung to his feet, and I saw his dark, athletic outline at the door of the hut, his shoulders

The cry had been loud on account of its vehemence, 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

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 rumble, musical and yet menacing, rising and falling like the low, constant

"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 somewhere

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 dis tracted. He stamped his feet upon the ground.

"Fool that I was to hold my hand. And you, Watson, see what comes of abandoning your charge! But, by

Blindly we ran through the gloom, blundering against boul ders, forcing our way through gorse bushes,

panting up hills and rushing down slopes, heading always in the direction whence those dreadful sounds had

come. At every rise Holmes looked eagerly round him, but the shadows were thick upon the moor, and

A low moan had fallen upon our ears. There it was again upon our left! On that side a ridge of rocks ended in

a sheer cliff which overlooked a stonestrewn slope. On its jagged face was spreadeagled some dark,

irregular object. As we ran towards it the vague outline hardened into a definite shape. It was a pros trate

man face downward 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 somersault. So grotesque was the attitude that I

could not for the instant realize 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

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

"I am more to blame than you, Watson. In order 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 l 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

"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 irrevocable

disaster which had brought all our long and weary labours to so piteous an end. Then as the moon rose we

climbed to the top of the rocks over which our poor friend had fallen, and from the summit we gazed out over

the shadowy moor, half silver and half gloom. Far away, miles off, in the direction of Grimpen, a single

steady yellow light was shining. It could only come from the lonely abode of the Stapletons. With a bitter

"Our case is not complete. The fellow is wary and cunning to the last degree. It is not what we know, but

"There will be plenty for us to do tomorrow. Tonight we can only perform the last offices to our poor

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

"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.

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

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

old wardrobe to Barrymore. Barrymore had passed it on in order to help Selden in his escape. Boots, shirt,

cap it was all Sir Henry's. The tragedy was still black enough, but this man had at least de served death

by the laws of his country. I told Holmes how the matter stood, my heart bubbling over with thankfulness and

"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 dark ness, to know

"To hear a hound upon the moor would not 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

"A greater mystery to me is why this hound, presuming that all our conjectures are correct "

"Well, then, why this hound should be loose tonight. I suppose that it does not always run loose upon the

moor. Stapleton would not let it go unless 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 explanation of

yours, while mine may remain forever a mystery. The question now is, what shall we do with this poor

"I suggest that we put it in one of the huts until 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 audacious! Not a word to show yow suspicions not a word, or my

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. He stopped when he saw us,

"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

Stapleton turned a ghastly face upon us, but by a supreme effort he had overcome his amazement and his

"He appears to have broken his neck by falling over these rocks. My friend and I were strolling on the moor

"I heard a cry also. That was what brought me out. I was uneasy about Sir Henry."

"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 darted again from

"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 tonight."

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

"That seems the most reasonable theory," said Stapleton, and he gave a sigh which I took to indicate his

"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 unpleasant

"I hope your visit has cast some light upon those occurrences which have puzzled us?"

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

My friend spoke in his frankest and most unconcerned man ner. Stapleton still looked hard at him. Then he

"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 hospi tality, Holmes and I set off to Baskerville Hall,

leaving the naturalist to return alone. Looking back we saw the figure mov ing slowly away over the broad

moor, and behind him that one black smudge on the silvered slope which showed where the man was lying

"We're at close grips at last," said Holmes as we walked together across the moor. "What a nerve the fellow

has! How he pulled himself together in the face of what must have been a paralyzing shock when he found

that the wrong man had fallen a victim to his plot. I told you in London, Watson, and I tell you now again,

"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 completely deceived us."

"My dear Watson, you 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 tonight, what on earth 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 a shadow of one only surmise and conjecture. We should be laughed out of court if we came with

"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 before ever the brute overtook him. But we have to prove all this, and we are not in a

"We are not much better off tonight. 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 at present, and that it is worth our while to run any risk in order to establish one."

"I have great hopes of what Mrs. Laura Lyons may do for us when the position of affairs is made clear to her.

And I have my own plan as well. Sufficient for tomorrow is the evil thereof; but I hope before the day is

I could draw nothing further from him, and he walked, lost in thought, as far as the Baskerville gates.

"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 be lieve. He will have a better

nerve for the ordeal which he will have to undergo tomorrow, when he is engaged, if I remember your

"Then you must excuse yourself and he must go alone. That will be easily arranged. And now, if we are too

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, when he found

that my friend had neither any luggage nor any explanations for its absence. Between 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 relief, 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

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

should have some credit, for I have kept my promise. If I hadn't sworn not to go about alone I might have had

a more lively evening, for I had a message from Stapleton asking me over there."

"I have no doubt that you would have had a more lively evening," said Holmes drily. "By the way, I don't

suppose you appreciate that we have been mourning over you as having broken your neck?"

"This poor wretch was dressed in your clothes. I fear your servant who gave them to him may get into trouble

"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 conscientious detective my first duty is not to arrest the whole household.

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

"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 complicated business. There are several points upon which we still want light

"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

"I think I will muzzle him and chain him all right if you will give me your help."

"Very good; and I will ask you also to do it blindly, without always asking the reason."

"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 clearcut classical statue, a personification of

I could see as he looked down that he was repressing some internal emotion. His features were still

"Excuse the admiration of a connoisseur," said he as he waved his hand towards the line of portraits 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

"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 with the wig ought to be a Reynolds. They are all family portraits, I

"Barrymore has been coaching me in them, and I think I can say my lessons fairly well."

"That is RearAdmiral 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 Commit tees of the House of

"Ah, you have a right to know about him. That is the cause of all the mischief, the wicked Hugo, who started

"Dear me!" said Holmes, "he seems a quiet, meekmannered man enough, but I dare say that there was a

lurking devil in his eyes. I had pictured him as a more robust and ruffianly person."

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

Holmes said little more, but the picture of the old roysterer seemed to have a fascination for him, and his eyes

were continu ally fixed upon it during 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 banquetinghall, his bedroom

candle in his hand, and he held it up against the timestained portrait on the wall.

I looked at the broad plumed hat, the curling lovelocks, the white lace collar, and the straight, severe face

which was framed between them. lt was not a brutal countenance, but it was prim hard, and stern, with a

"Just a suggestion, perhaps. But wait an instant!" He stood upon a chair, and, holding up the light in his left

"Ha, you see it now. My eyes have been trained to examine faces and not their trimmings. It is the first

"Yes, it is an interesting instance of a throwback, which appears to be both physical and spiritual. A study of

family portraits is enough to convert a man to the doctrine of reincarna tion. The fellow is a Baskerville

"Exactly. This chance of the picture has supplied us with one of our most obvious missing links. We have

him, Watson, we have him, and I dare swear that before tomorrow night he will be fluttering in our net as

helpless as one of his own butterflies. A pin, a cork, and a card, and we add him to the Baker Street

collection!" He burst into one of his rare fits of laughter as he turned away from the picture. I have not heard

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

"Yes, we should have a full day today," he remarked, 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

"I have sent a report from Grimpen to Princetown 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 away at the door of my hut, as a dog does at his master's grave, if I had not set his mind

"Goodmorning, Holmes," said the baronet. "You look like a general who is planning a battle with his chief

"Very good. You are engaged, as I understand, to dine with our friends the Stapletons tonight."

"I hope that you will come also. They are very hospitable people, and I am sure that they would be very glad

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

"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 Devonshire. Will you remember to give them that message?"

I saw by the baronet's clouded brow that he was deeply hurt by what he regarded as our desertion.

"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. Watson, you will send a note to Stapleton to tell him that you regret

"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

"One more direction! I wish you to drive to Merripit House Send back your trap, however, and let them know

"This time you may do it with safety. If I had not every confidence in your nerve and courage I would not

"And as you value your life do not go across the moor in any direction save along the straight path which

"Very good. I should be glad to get away as soon after breakfast as possible, so as to reach London in the

I was much astounded by this programme, though I remem bered that Holmes had said to Stapleton 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 absent at a moment which he himself

declared to be critical. There was nothing for it, how ever, but implicit obedience; so we bade goodbye to

our rueful 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.

"You will take this train to town, Cartwright. The moment you arrive you will send a wire to Sir Henry

Baskerville, in my name, to say that if he finds the pocketbook which I have dropped he is to send it by

"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

His plan of campaign was beginning to be evident. He would use the baronet in order to convince 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 Stapletons, must remove the last

suspicions from their minds. Already I seemed to see our nets drawing closer around that leanjawed pike.

Mrs. Laura Lyons was in her office, and Sherlock Holmes opened his interview with a frankness and

"I am investigating the circumstances which attended the death of the late Sir Charles Baskerville," said he.

"My friend here, Dr. Watson, has informed me of what you have communi cated, and also of what you have

"You have confessed that you asked Sir Charles to be at the gate at ten o'clock. We know that that was the

place and hour of his death. You have withheld what the connection is between these events."

"In that case the coincidence must indeed be an extraordinary one. But I think that we shall succeed in

establishing a connec tion, 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 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

"Prove it to me! Prove it to me! And if you can do so !" The fierce flash of her eyes said more than any

"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. Vandeleur,' but you will have no

difficulty in recognizing him, and her also, if you know her by sight. Here are three written descriptions by

trustworthy witnesses of Mr. and Mrs. Vandeleur, who at that time kept St. Oliver's private school. Read

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 imagined 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

"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

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

"And then after you had sent the letter he dissuaded you from keeping the appointment?"

"He told me that it would hurt his selfrespect that any other man should find the money for such an object,

and that though he was a poor man himself he would devote his last penny to removing the obstacles which

"He appears to be a very consistent character. And then you heard nothing until you read the reports of the

"And he made you swear to say nothing about your appoint ment with Sir Charles?"

"He did. He said that the death was a very mysterious one, and that I should certainly be suspected if the facts

"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 fortunate 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 wish you goodmorning now, Mrs. Lyons, and it is probable that you will very

"Our case becomes rounded off, and difficulty after difficulty thins away in front of us," said Holmes as we

stood waiting for the arrival of the express from town. "I shall soon be in the position of being able to put into

a single connected narrative one of the most singular and sensational crimes of modern times. Students of

criminology will remember the analogous incidents in Godno, in Little Russia, in the year '66, and of course

there are the Anderson murders in North Carolina, but this case possesses some features which are entirely its

own. Even now we have no clear case against this very wily man. But I shall be very much surprised if it is

The London express came roaring into the station, and a small, wiry bulldog of a man had sprung from a

firstclass 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.

"The biggest thing for years," said Holmes. "We have two hours before we need think of starting. 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

One of Sherlock Holmes's defects if, indeed, one may call it a defect was that he was exceedingly

loath to communicate his full plans to any other person until the instant of their fulfilment. Partly it came no

doubt from his own masterful nature, which loved to dominate and surprise those who were 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 surmise 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 taking us nearer to our supreme adventure.

Our conversation was hampered by the presence of the driver of the hired wagonette, so that we were forced

to talk of trivial matters when our nerves were tense with emotion and anticipa tion. 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

"As long as I have my trousers I have a hippocket, and as long as I have my hippocket I have something in

"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 Grimpen Mire. "I see the lights of a

"That is Merripit House and the end of our journey. I must request you to walk on tiptoe and not to talk above

We moved cautiously along the track as if we were bound for the house, but Holmes halted us when we were

"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?"

"The blinds are up. You know the lie of the land best. Creep forward quietly and see what they are doing

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 window.

There were only two men in the room, Sir Henry and Stapleton. They sat with their profiles towards 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 anima tion, but the baronet looked pale and distrait. Perhaps the thought of that

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 outhouse 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 reentered the house. I saw him rejoin his guest, and I crept quietly back

"You say, Watson, that the lady is not there?" Holmes asked when I had finished my report.

"Where can she be, then, since there is no light in any other room except the kitchen?"

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 defined. The moon shone

on it, and it looked like a great shimmering icefield, with the heads of the distant tors as rocks borne upon

its surface. Holmes's face was turned towards it, and he muttered impatiently as he watched its sluggish drift.

"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 coming out before the

The night was clear and fine above us. The stars shone cold and bright, while a halfmoon 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 silverspangled 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 diningroom where the two men, the muderous host and the

Every minute that white woolly plain which covered onehalf 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 fogwreaths came crawling round both corners 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

So as the fogbank flowed onward we fell back before it until we were half a mile from the house, and still

that dense white sea, with the moon silvering 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 before 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

A sound of quick steps broke the silence of the moor. Crouch ing among the stones we stared intently at the

silvertipped bank in front of us. The steps grew louder, and through the fog, as through a curtain, there

stepped the man whom we were await ing. He looked round him in surprise as he emerged into the clear,

starlit night. Then he came swiftly along the path, passed close to where we lay, and went on up the long

slope behind us. 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 cock ing pistol. "Look out! It's coming!"

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 sud denly they started forward in a rigid, fixed stare, and his

lips parted in amazement. At the same instant Lestrade gave a yell of terror and threw himself face downward

upon the ground. I sprang to my feet, my inert hand grasping my pistol, my mind paralyzed by the dreadful

shape which had sprung out upon us from the shadows of the fog. A hound it was, an enormous coalblack

hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen. Fire burst from its open mouth, its eyes glowed

with a smouldering glare, its muzzle and hackles and dewlap were outlined in flickering flame. Never in the

delirious dream of a disordered brain could anything more savage, more appalling, more hellish be conceived

With long bounds the huge black creatwe was 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 onward. 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

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 professional. 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 instant

Holmes had emptied five barrels of his revolver 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

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 brandyflask between the

"It's dead, whatever it is," said Holmes. "We've laid the family ghost once and forever."

In mere size and strength it was a terrible creature which was lying stretched before us. It was not a pure

bloodhound and it was not a pure mastiff; but it appeared to be a combination of the two gaunt, savage,

and as large as a small lioness. Even now in the stillness of death, the huge jaws seemed to be dripping with a

bluish flame and the small, deepset, 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.

"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 prepared for a hound, but not for such a creature as this. And the fog gave us little time to

"Give me another mouthful of that brandy and I shall be ready for anything. So! Now, if you will help me up.

"To leave you here. You are not fit for further adventures tonight. If you will wait, one or other of us will go

He tried to stagger to his feet; but he was still ghastly pale and trembling in every limb. We helped him to a

"We must leave you now," said Holmes. "The rest of our work must be done, and every moment is of

"It's a thousand to one against our finding him at the house," he continued as we retraced our steps swiftly

"He followed the hound to call him off of that you may be certain. No, no, he's gone by this time! But

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

old manservant, who met us in the passage. There was no light save in the diningroom, 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

"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

But there was no sign within it of that desperate and defiant villain whom we expected to see. Instead 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 museum, and the walls were lined by a number of glasstopped

cases full of that collection of butterflies and moths the formation of which had been the relaxation of this

complex and dangerous man. In the centre of this room there was an upright beam, which had been placed at

some period as a support for the old wormeaten baulk 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 woman. One towel passed round the throat and was secured

at the back of the pillar. Another covered the lower part of the face, and over it two dark eyes eyes full of

grief and shame and a dreadful questioning stared back at us. In a minute we had torn off the gag,

unswathed the bonds, and Mrs. Stapleton sank upon the floor in front of us. As her beautiful head fell upon

"The brute!" cried Holmes. "Here, Lestrade, your brandy bottle! Put her in the chair! She has fainted from

"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, illusage, 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 been his dupe and his tool." She broke into passionate sobbing as she spoke.

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

"There is but one place where he can have fled," she an swered. "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

The fogbank lay like white wool against the window. Holmes held the lamp towards it.

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 tonight? We planted

them to gether, he and I, to mark the pathway through the mire. Oh, if I could only have plucked them out

It was evident to us that all pursuit was in vain until the fog had lifted. Meanwhile we left Lestrade 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 withheld from him, but he took the blow bravely when 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

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 surmises 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 zigzagged from tuft to tuft of rushes among those

greenscummed pits and foul quagmires which barred the way to the stranger. Rank reeds and lush, slimy

waterplants sent an odour of decay and a heavy miasmatic vapour onto our faces, while a false step plunged

us more than once thighdeep 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

"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

But more than that we were never destined to know, though there was much which we might surmise. 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 beyond the morass we all looked eagerly for them. 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

Many traces we found of him in the boggirt island where he had hid his savage ally. A huge drivingwheel

and a shaft halffilled 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 surrounding swamp. In

one of these a staple and chain with a quantity of gnawed bones showed where the animal had been confined.

"A dog!" said Holmes. "By Jove, a curlyhaired spaniel. Poor Mortimer will never see his pet again. Well, I

do not know that this place contains 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 outhouse 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. This paste

in the tin is no doubt the luminous mixture with which the creature was daubed. It was suggested, of course,

by the story of the family hellhound, 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 dangerous man than he

who is lying yonder" he swept his long arm towards the huge mottled expanse of green splotched bog

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 affairs of the utmost importance, in the first of which he had exposed the atrocious conduct of

Colonel Upwood 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

connection with the death of her stepdaughter, Mlle. Carere, the young lady who, as it will be remembered,

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 opportunity 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 to that long voyage which had been recommended for the restoration of his shattered nerves. They

had called upon us that very after noon, 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 himself 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 entirely 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

"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 concentration has a

curious way of blotting out what has passed. The barrister who has his case at his fingers' ends 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 Mlle. Carere has blurred my recollection of

Baskerville Hall. Tomorrow some other little problem may be submitted to my notice which will in turn

dispossess the fair French lady and the infamous Upwood. So far as the case of the hound goes, however, I

will give you the course of events as nearly as I can, and you will suggest anything which I may have

"My inquiries show beyond all question that the family por trait 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's. He married Beryl Garcia,

one of the beauties of Costa Rica, and, having purloined a considerable sum of public money, he changed his

name to Vandeleur and fled to England, where he established a school in the east of Yorkshire. His reason for

attempting 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 success. Fraser, the

tutor, died however, and the school which had begun well sank from disre pute 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 learned at the British Museum that he

was a recognized authority upon the subject, and 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 valuable 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 estate, and he was ready to use any tool or run any risk

for that end. His first act was to establish himself as near to his ancestral home as he could, and his second

was to cultivate a friendship 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. Morti mer. 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, 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 already on his insect hunts learned to penetrate the Grimpen Mire, and so had found a safe

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

Several times Stapleton lurked about with his hound, but without avail. It was during these 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 senti mental attachment which

might deliver him over to his enemy. Threats and even, I am sorry to say, blows refused to move her. She

"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 coincide. 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,

"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 wicketgate 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 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 approached 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 countryside, and finally brought the case within the scope of our observation.

"So much for the death of Sir Charles Baskerville. 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

existence 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 them

were under his influence, and he had nothing to fear from them. The first half of his task was successfully

"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. Mortimer, 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 without coming down to Devonshire at all. He distrusted 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 North umberland Hotel. His wife had some

inkling of his plans; but she had such a fear of her husband a fear founded upon brutal illtreatment

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 expedient of

cutting out the words which would form the message, and addressing the letter in a disguised hand. It reached

"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 characteristic 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 first boot which was procured for him was a

new one and, therefore, useless for his purpose. He then had it returned and obtained another a most

instructive incident, since it proved conclusively to my mind that we were dealing with a real hound, as no

other supposition could explain this anxiety to obtain an old boot and this indifference to a new one. The

more outre and grotesque an incident is the more carefully it deserves to be examined, and the very point

which appears to complicate a case is, when duly considered and scientifically handled, the one which is most

"Then we had the visit from our friends next morning, shad owed always by Stapleton in the cab. From his

knowledge of our rooms and of my appearance, as well as from his general con duct, I am inclined to think

that Stapleton's career of crime has been by no means limited to this single Baskerville affair. It is suggestive

that during the last three years there have been four considerable burglaries in the west country, for none of

which was any criminal ever arrested. The last of these, at Folkestone Court, in May, was remarkable for the

coldblooded pistolling of the page, who surprised the masked and solitary burglar. I cannot doubt that

Stapleton recruited his waning resources in this fashion, and that for years he has been a desperate and

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

"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 London?"

"I have given some attention to this matter and it is undoubt edly 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 be traced for several years, as far back as the schoolmastering days, so that he must

have been aware that his master and mistress were really husband and wife. This man has disappeared and

has escaped from the country. It is suggestive that Anthony is not a common name in England, while Antonio

is so in all Spanish or SpanishAmerican coun tries. The man, like Mrs. Stapleton herself, spoke good

English, but with a curious lisping accent. I have myself seen this old man cross the Grimpen Mire by the

path which Stapleton had marked out. It is very probable, therefore, that in the absence of his master it was he

who cared for the hound, though he may never have known the purpose for which the beast was used.

"The Stapletons then went down to Devonshire, whither they were soon followed by Sir Henry and you. One

word now as to how I stood myself at that time. It may possibly recur to your memory that when I examined

the paper upon which the printed words were fastened I made a close inspection 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 jessamine. There are seventyfive 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 upon

their prompt recognition. The scent suggested the presence of a lady, and already my thoughts began to turn

towards the Stapletons. Thus I had made certain of the hound, and had guessed at the criminal before ever we

"It was my game to watch Stapleton. It was evident, how ever, that I could not do this if I were with you,

since he would be keenly on his guard. I deceived everybody, therefore, your self 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 investi gation of a case. I stayed for the most part

at Coombe Tracey, and only used the hut upon the moor when it was necessary 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

"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 compli cated through the incident of the escaped

convict and the rela tions between him and the Barrymores. This 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 unfortunate convict did not help us much in proving murder against our man. There seemed

to be no alternative but to catch him redhanded, 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 completing

our case and driving Stapleton to his destruction. That Sir Henry should have been exposed to this is, I must

confess, a reproach to my management of the case, but we had no means of foreseeing the terrible and

paralyzing spectacle which the beast presented, nor could we predict the fog which enabled him to burst upon

us at such short notice. We succeeded in our object at a cost which both the specialist and Dr. Mortimer

assure me will be a tempo rary one. A long journey may enable our friend to recover not only from his

shattered nerves but also from his wounded feel ings. 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 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 incom patible 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 direct accessory to murder. She was ready to warn Sir Henry so far as she could without

implicating her husband, and again and again she tried to do so. Stapleton himself seems to have been

capable of jealousy, and when he saw the baronet paying court to the lady, even though it was part of his own

plan, still he could not help interrupting with a passionate out burst which revealed the fiery soul which his

selfcontained 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 being kept in the outhouse on the evening that

Sir Henry was coming to dinner. She taxed her husband 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 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 countryside 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 irjury so lightly. And now, my dear Watson, without referring to my notes, I cannot

give you a more detailed account of this curious case. I do not know that anything essential has been left

"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 halfstarved. If its appearance did not frighten its victim to death, at least it would

"No doubt. There only remains one difficulty. If Stapleton came into the succession, how could he explain the

fact that he, the heir, had been living unannounced under another name so close to the property? How could

"It is a fomlidable difficulty, and I fear that you ask too much when you expect me to solve it. The past and

the present are within the field of my inquiry, 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, establish his identity before the British

authorities there and so obtain the fortune without ever coming to England at all, or he might adopt an

elaborate disguise during the short time that he need be in London; or, again, he might furnish an accomplice

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 evening, I think, we may turn

our thoughts into more pleasant channels. I have a box for 'Les Huguenots.' 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