`Whoishe，then？’
`ItisSelden，theNottingHillmurderer。’
Irememberedthecasewell，foritwasoneinwhichHolmeshadtakenaninterestonaccountofthepeculiarferocityofthecrimeandthewantonbrutalitywhichhadmarkedalltheactionsoftheassassin。
Thecommutationofhisdeathsentencehadbeenduetosomedoubtsastohiscompletesanity，soatrociouswashisconduct。Ourwagonettehadtoppedariseandinfrontofusrosethehugeexpanseofthemoor，mottledwithgnarledandcraggycairnsandtors。Acoldwindsweptdownfromitandsetusshivering。Somewherethere，onthatdesolateplain，waslurkingthisfiendishman，hidinginaburrowlikeawildbeast，hisheartfullofmalignancyagainstthewholeracewhichhadcasthimout。Itneededbutthistocompletethegrimsuggestivenessofthebarrenwaste，thechillingwind，andthedarklingsky。EvenBaskervillefellsilentandpulledhisovercoatmorecloselyaroundhim。
Wehadleftthefertilecountrybehindandbeneathus。Welookedbackonitnow，theslantingraysofalowsunturningthestreamstothreadsofgoldandglowingontheredearthnewturnedbytheploughandthebroadtangleofthewoodlands。Theroadinfrontofusgrewbleakerandwilderoverhugerussetandoliveslopes，sprinkledwithgiantboulders。Nowandthenwepassedamoorlandcottage，walledandroofedwithstone，withnocreepertobreakitsharshoutline。Suddenlywelookeddownintoacuplikedepression，patchedwithstuntedoaksandfirswhichhadbeentwistedandbentbythefuryofyearsofstorm。Twohigh，narrowtowersroseoverthetrees。Thedriverpointedwithhiswhip。
`BaskervilleHall，’saidhe。
Itsmasterhadrisenandwasstaringwithflushedcheeksandshiningeyes。Afewminuteslaterwehadreachedthelodge—gates，amazeoffantastictraceryinwroughtiron，withweather—bittenpillarsoneitherside，blotchedwithlichens，andsurmountedbytheboars’headsoftheBaskervilles。Thelodgewasaruinofblackgraniteandbaredribsofrafters，butfacingitwasanewbuilding，halfconstructed，thefirstfruitofSirCharles’sSouthAfricangold。
Throughthegatewaywepassedintotheavenue，wherethewheelswereagainhushedamidtheleaves，andtheoldtreesshottheirbranchesinasombretunneloverourheads。Baskervilleshudderedashelookedupthelong，darkdrivetowherethehouseglimmeredlikeaghostatthefartherend。
`Wasithere？’heaskedinalowvoice。
`No，no，theyewalleyisontheotherside。’
Theyoungheirglancedroundwithagloomyface。
`It’snowondermyunclefeltasiftroublewerecomingonhiminsuchaplaceasthis，’saidhe。`It’senoughtoscareanyman。I’llhavearowofelectriclampsuphereinsideofsixmonths，andyouwon’tknowitagain，withathousandcandlepowerSwanandEdisonrighthereinfrontofthehalldoor。’
Theavenueopenedintoabroadexpanseofturf，andthehouselaybeforeus。InthefadinglightIcouldseethatthecentrewasaheavyblockofbuildingfromwhichaporchprojected。Thewholefrontwasdrapedinivy，withapatchclippedbarehereandtherewhereawindoworacoatofarmsbrokethroughthedarkveil。Fromthiscentralblockrosethetwintowers，ancient，crenellated，andpiercedwithmanyloopholes。Torightandleftoftheturretsweremoremodernwingsofblackgranite。Adulllightshonethroughheavymullionedwindows，andfromthehighchimneyswhichrosefromthesteep，high—angledrooftheresprangasingleblackcolumnofsmoke。
`Welcome，SirHenry！WelcometoBaskervilleHall！’
Atallmanhadsteppedfromtheshadowoftheporchtoopenthedoorofthewagonette。Thefigureofawomanwassilhouettedagainsttheyellowlightofthehall。
Shecameoutandhelpedthemantohanddownourbags。
`Youdon’tmindmydrivingstraighthome，SirHenry？’saidDr。
Mortimer。`Mywifeisexpectingme。’
`Surelyyouwillstayandhavesomedinner？’
`No，Imustgo。Ishallprobablyfindsomeworkawaitingme。I
wouldstaytoshowyouoverthehouse，butBarrymorewillbeabetterguidethanI。Good—bye，andneverhesitatenightordaytosendformeifIcanbeofservice。’
ThewheelsdiedawaydownthedrivewhileSirHenryandIturnedintothehall，andthedoorclangedheavilybehindus。Itwasafineapartmentinwhichwefoundourselves，large，lofty，andheavilyrafteredwithhugebaulksofage—blackenedoak。Inthegreatold—fashionedfireplacebehindthehighirondogsalog—firecrackledandsnapped。SirHenryandIheldoutourhandstoit，forwewerenumbfromourlongdrive。Thenwegazedroundusatthehigh，thinwindowofoldstainedglass，theoakpanelling，thestags’heads，thecoatsofarmsuponthewalls，alldimandsombreinthesubduedlightofthecentrallamp。
`It’sjustasIimaginedit，’saidSirHenry。`Isitnottheverypictureofanoldfamilyhome？Tothinkthatthisshouldbethesamehallinwhichforfivehundredyearsmypeoplehavelived。Itstrikesmesolemntothinkofit。’
Isawhisdarkfacelitupwithaboyishenthusiasmashegazedabouthim。Thelightbeatuponhimwherehestood，butlongshadowstraileddownthewallsandhunglikeablackcanopyabovehim。Barrymorehadreturnedfromtakingourluggagetoourrooms。Hestoodinfrontofusnowwiththesubduedmannerofawell—trainedservant。Hewasaremarkable—lookingman，tall，handsome，withasquareblackbeardandpale，distinguishedfeatures。
`Wouldyouwishdinnertobeservedatonce，sir？’
`Isitready？’
`Inaveryfewminutes，sir。Youwillfindhotwaterinyourrooms。
MywifeandIwillbehappy，SirHenry，tostaywithyouuntilyouhavemadeyourfresharrangements，butyouwillunderstandthatunderthenewconditionsthishousewillrequireaconsiderablestaff。’
`Whatnewconditions？’
`Ionlymeant，sir，thatSirCharlesledaveryretiredlife，andwewereabletolookafterhiswants。Youwould，naturally，wishtohavemorecompany，andsoyouwillneedchangesinyourhousehold。’
`Doyoumeanthatyourwifeandyouwishtoleave？’
`Onlywhenitisquiteconvenienttoyou，sir。’
`Butyourfamilyhavebeenwithusforseveralgenerations，havetheynot？Ishouldbesorrytobeginmylifeherebybreakinganoldfamilyconnection。’
Iseemedtodiscernsomesignsofemotionuponthebutler’swhiteface。
`Ifeelthatalso，sir，andsodoesmywife。Buttotellthetruth，sir，wewerebothverymuchattachedtoSirCharlesandhisdeathgaveusashockandmadethesesurroundingsverypainfultous。IfearthatweshallneveragainbeeasyinourmindsatBaskervilleHall。’
`Butwhatdoyouintendtodo？’
`Ihavenodoubt，sir，thatweshallsucceedinestablishingourselvesinsomebusiness。SirCharles’sgenerosityhasgivenusthemeanstodoso。Andnow，sir，perhapsIhadbestshowyoutoyourrooms。’
Asquarebalustradedgalleryranroundthetopoftheoldhall，approachedbyadoublestair。Fromthiscentralpointtwolongcorridorsextendedthewholelengthofthebuilding，fromwhichallthebedroomsopened。MyownwasinthesamewingasBaskerville’sandalmostnextdoortoit。Theseroomsappearedtobemuchmoremodernthanthecentralpartofthehouse，andthebrightpaperandnumerouscandlesdidsomethingtoremovethesombreimpressionwhichourarrivalhadleftuponmymind。
Butthedining—roomwhichopenedoutofthehallwasaplaceofshadowandgloom。
Itwasalongchamberwithastepseparatingthedaiswherethefamilysatfromthelowerportionreservedfortheirdependents。Atoneendaminstrel’sgalleryoverlookedit。Blackbeamsshotacrossaboveourheads，withasmoke—darkenedceilingbeyondthem。Withrowsofflaringtorchestolightitup，andthecolourandrudehilarityofanold—timebanquet，itmighthavesoftened;butnow，whentwoblack—clothedgentlemensatinthelittlecircleoflightthrownbyashadedlamp，one’svoicebecamehushedandone’sspiritsubdued。Adimlineofancestors，ineveryvarietyofdress，fromtheElizabethanknighttothebuckoftheRegency，stareddownuponusanddauntedusbytheirsilentcompany。Wetalkedlittle，andIforonewasgladwhenthemealwasoverandwewereabletoretireintothemodernbilliard—roomandsmokeacigarette。
`Myword，itisn’taverycheerfulplace，’saidSirHenry。`I
supposeonecantonedowntoit，butIfeelabitoutofthepictureatpresent。Idon’twonderthatmyunclegotalittlejumpyifhelivedallaloneinsuchahouseasthis。However，ifitsuitsyou，wewillretireearlyto—night，andperhapsthingsmayseemmorecheerfulinthemorning。’
IdrewasidemycurtainsbeforeIwenttobedandlookedoutfrommywindow。Itopeneduponthegrassyspacewhichlayinfrontofthehalldoor。Beyond，twocopsesoftreesmoanedandswunginarisingwind。A
halfmoonbrokethroughtheriftsofracingclouds。InitscoldlightI
sawbeyondthetreesabrokenfringeofrocks，andthelong，lowcurveofthemelancholymoor。Iclosedthecurtain，feelingthatmylastimpressionwasinkeepingwiththerest。
Andyetitwasnotquitethelast。Ifoundmyselfwearyandyetwakeful，tossingrestlesslyfromsidetoside，seekingforthesleepwhichwouldnotcome。Farawayachimingclockstruckoutthequartersofthehours，butotherwiseadeathlysilencelayupontheoldhouse。Andthensuddenly，intheverydeadofthenight，therecameasoundtomyears，clear，resonant，andunmistakable。Itwasthesobofawoman，themuffled，stranglinggaspofonewhoistornbyanuncontrollablesorrow。Isatupinbedandlistenedintently。Thenoisecouldnothavebeenfarawayandwascertainlyinthehouse。ForhalfanhourIwaitedwitheverynerveonthealert，buttherecamenoothersoundsavethechimingclockandtherustleoftheivyonthewall。
[NextChapter][TableofContents]ConanDoyle：TheHoundoftheBaskervilles07[TableofContents]Chapter7TheStapletonsofMerripitHouseThefreshbeautyofthefollowingmorningdidsomethingtoeffacefromourmindsthegrimandgrayimpressionwhichhadbeenleftuponbothofusbyourfirstexperienceofBaskervilleHall。AsSirHenryandIsatatbreakfastthesunlightfloodedinthroughthehighmullionedwindows，throwingwaterypatchesofcolourfromthecoatsofarmswhichcoveredthem。Thedarkpanellingglowedlikebronzeinthegoldenrays，anditwashardtorealizethatthiswasindeedthechamberwhichhadstrucksuchagloomintooursoulsupontheeveningbefore。
`Iguessitisourselvesandnotthehousethatwehavetoblame！’
saidthebaronet。`Weweretiredwithourjourneyandchilledbyourdrive，sowetookagrayviewoftheplace。Nowwearefreshandwell，soitisallcheerfuloncemore。’
`Andyetitwasnotentirelyaquestionofimagination，’Ianswered。
`Didyou，forexample，happentohearsomeone，awomanIthink，sobbinginthenight？’
`Thatiscurious，forIdidwhenIwashalfasleepfancythatIheardsomethingofthesort。Iwaitedquiteatime，buttherewasnomoreofit，soIconcludedthatitwasalladream。’
`Ihearditdistinctly，andIamsurethatitwasreallythesobofawoman。’
`Wemustaskaboutthisrightaway。’HerangthebellandaskedBarrymorewhetherhecouldaccountforourexperience。Itseemedtomethatthepallidfeaturesofthebutlerturnedashadepalerstillashelistenedtohismaster’squestion。
`Thereareonlytwowomeninthehouse，SirHenry，’heanswered。
`Oneisthescullery—maid，whosleepsintheotherwing。Theotherismywife，andIcananswerforitthatthesoundcouldnothavecomefromher。’
Andyetheliedashesaidit，foritchancedthatafterbreakfastImetMrs。Barrymoreinthelongcorridorwiththesunfulluponherface。
Shewasalarge，impassive，heavy—featuredwomanwithasternsetexpressionofmouth。Buthertelltaleeyeswereredandglancedatmefrombetweenswollenlids。
Itwasshe，then，whoweptinthenight，andifshedidsoherhusbandmustknowit。Yethehadtakentheobviousriskofdiscoveryindeclaringthatitwasnotso。Whyhadhedonethis？Andwhydidsheweepsobitterly？Alreadyroundthispale—faced，handsome，black—beardedmantherewasgatheringanatmosphereofmysteryandofgloom。ItwashewhohadbeenthefirsttodiscoverthebodyofSirCharles，andwehadonlyhiswordforallthecircumstanceswhichleduptotheoldman’sdeath。
WasitpossiblethatitwasBarrymore，afterall，whomwehadseeninthecabinRegentStreet？Thebeardmightwellhavebeenthesame。Thecabmanhaddescribedasomewhatshorterman，butsuchanimpressionmighteasilyhavebeenerroneous。HowcouldIsettlethepointforever？ObviouslythefirstthingtodowastoseetheGrimpenpostmasterandfindwhetherthetesttelegramhadreallybeenplacedinBarrymore’sownhands。Betheanswerwhatitmight，IshouldatleasthavesomethingtoreporttoSherlockHolmes。
SirHenryhadnumerouspaperstoexamineafterbreakfast，sothatthetimewaspropitiousformyexcursion。Itwasapleasantwalkoffourmilesalongtheedgeofthemoor，leadingmeatlasttoasmallgrayhamlet，inwhichtwolargerbuildings，whichprovedtobetheinnandthehouseofDr。Mortimer，stoodhighabovetherest。Thepostmaster，whowasalsothevillagegrocer，hadaclearrecollectionofthetelegram。
`Certainly，sir，’saidhe，`IhadthetelegramdeliveredtoMr。
Barrymoreexactlyasdirected。’
`Whodeliveredit？’
`Myboyhere。James，youdeliveredthattelegramtoMr。BarrymoreattheHalllastweek，didyounot？’
`Yes，father，Ideliveredit。’
`Intohisownhands？’Iasked。
`Well，hewasupintheloftatthetime，sothatIcouldnotputitintohisownhands，butIgaveitintoMrs。Barrymore’shands，andshepromisedtodeliveritatonce。’
`DidyouseeMr。Barrymore？’
`No，sir;Itellyouhewasintheloft。’
`Ifyoudidn’tseehim，howdoyouknowhewasintheloft？’
`Well，surelyhisownwifeoughttoknowwhereheis，’saidthepostmastertestily。`Didn’thegetthetelegram？IfthereisanymistakeitisforMr。Barrymorehimselftocomplain。’
Itseemedhopelesstopursuetheinquiryanyfarther，butitwasclearthatinspiteofHolmes’srusewehadnoproofthatBarrymorehadnotbeeninLondonallthetime。Supposethatitwereso—supposethatthesamemanhadbeenthelastwhohadseenSirCharlesalive，andthefirsttodogthenewheirwhenhereturnedtoEngland。Whatthen？Washetheagentofothersorhadhesomesinisterdesignofhisown？WhatinterestcouldhehaveinpersecutingtheBaskervillefamily？IthoughtofthestrangewarningclippedoutoftheleadingarticleoftheTimes。Wasthathisworkorwasitpossiblythedoingofsomeonewhowasbentuponcounteractinghisschemes？TheonlyconceivablemotivewasthatwhichhadbeensuggestedbySirHenry，thatifthefamilycouldbescaredawayacomfortableandpermanenthomewouldbesecuredfortheBarrymores。Butsurelysuchanexplanationasthatwouldbequiteinadequatetoaccountforthedeepandsubtleschemingwhichseemedtobeweavinganinvisiblenetroundtheyoungbaronet。Holmeshimselfhadsaidthatnomorecomplexcasehadcometohiminallthelongseriesofhissensationalinvestigations。Iprayed，asIwalkedbackalongthegray，lonelyroad，thatmyfriendmightsoonbefreedfromhispreoccupationsandabletocomedowntotakethisheavyburdenofresponsibilityfrommyshoulders。
Suddenlymythoughtswereinterruptedbythesoundofrunningfeetbehindmeandbyavoicewhichcalledmebyname。Iturned，expectingtoseeDr。Mortimer，buttomysurpriseitwasastrangerwhowaspursuingme。
Hewasasmall，slim，clean—shaven，prim—facedman，flaxen—hairedandleanjawed，betweenthirtyandfortyyearsofage，dressedinagraysuitandwearingastrawhat。Atinboxforbotanicalspecimenshungoverhisshoulderandhecarriedagreenbutterfly—netinoneofhishands。
`Youwill，Iamsure，excusemypresumption，Dr。Watson，’saidheashecamepantinguptowhereIstood。`Hereonthemoorwearehomelyfolkanddonotwaitforformalintroductions。Youmaypossiblyhaveheardmynamefromourmutualfriend，Mortimer。IamStapleton，ofMerripitHouse。’
`Yournetandboxwouldhavetoldmeasmuch，’saidI，`forI
knewthatMr。Stapletonwasanaturalist。Buthowdidyouknowme？’
`IhavebeencallingonMortimer，andhepointedyououttomefromthewindowofhissurgeryasyoupassed。AsourroadlaythesamewayIthoughtthatIwouldovertakeyouandintroducemyself。ItrustthatSirHenryisnonetheworseforhisjourney？’
`Heisverywell，thankyou。’
`WewereallratherafraidthatafterthesaddeathofSirCharlesthenewbaronetmightrefusetolivehere。Itisaskingmuchofawealthymantocomedownandburyhimselfinaplaceofthiskind，butIneednottellyouthatitmeansaverygreatdealtothecountryside。SirHenryhas，Isuppose，nosuperstitiousfearsinthematter？’
`Idonotthinkthatitislikely。’
`Ofcourseyouknowthelegendofthefienddogwhichhauntsthefamily？’
`Ihaveheardit。’
`Itisextraordinaryhowcredulousthepeasantsareabouthere！
Anynumberofthemarereadytoswearthattheyhaveseensuchacreatureuponthemoor。’Hespokewithasmile，butIseemedtoreadinhiseyesthathetookthemattermoreseriously。`ThestorytookagreatholdupontheimaginationofSirCharles，andIhavenodoubtthatitledtohistragicend。’
`Buthow？’
`Hisnervesweresoworkedupthattheappearanceofanydogmighthavehadafataleffectuponhisdiseasedheart。Ifancythathereallydidseesomethingofthekinduponthatlastnightintheyewalley。I
fearedthatsomedisastermightoccur，forIwasveryfondoftheoldman，andIknewthathisheartwasweak。’
`Howdidyouknowthat？’
`MyfriendMortimertoldme。’
`Youthink，then，thatsomedogpursuedSirCharles，andthathediedoffrightinconsequence？’
`Haveyouanybetterexplanation？’
`Ihavenotcometoanyconclusion。’
`HasMr。SherlockHolmes？’
Thewordstookawaymybreathforaninstantbutaglanceattheplacidfaceandsteadfasteyesofmycompanionshowedthatnosurprisewasintended。
`Itisuselessforustopretendthatwedonotknowyou，Dr。
Watson，’saidhe。`Therecordsofyourdetectivehavereachedushere，andyoucouldnotcelebratehimwithoutbeingknownyourself。WhenMortimertoldmeyournamehecouldnotdenyyouridentity。Ifyouarehere，thenitfollowsthatMr。SherlockHolmesisinterestinghimselfinthematter，andIamnaturallycurioustoknowwhatviewhemaytake。’
`IamafraidthatIcannotanswerthatquestion。’
`MayIaskifheisgoingtohonouruswithavisithimself？’
`Hecannotleavetownatpresent。Hehasothercaseswhichengagehisattention。’
`Whatapity！Hemightthrowsomelightonthatwhichissodarktous。Butastoyourownresearches，ifthereisanypossiblewayinwhichIcanbeofservicetoyouItrustthatyouwillcommandme。IfIhadanyindicationofthenatureofyoursuspicionsorhowyouproposetoinvestigatethecase，Imightperhapsevennowgiveyousomeaidoradvice。’
`IassureyouthatIamsimplyhereuponavisittomyfriend，SirHenry，andthatIneednohelpofanykind。’
`Excellent！’saidStapleton。`Youareperfectlyrighttobewaryanddiscreet。IamjustlyreprovedforwhatIfeelwasanunjustifiableintrusion，andIpromiseyouthatIwillnotmentionthematteragain。’
Wehadcometoapointwhereanarrowgrassypathstruckofffromtheroadandwoundawayacrossthemoor。Asteep，boulder—sprinkledhilllayupontherightwhichhadinbygonedaysbeencutintoagranitequarry。
Thefacewhichwasturnedtowardsusformedadarkcliff，withfernsandbramblesgrowinginitsniches。Fromoveradistantrisetherefloatedagrayplumeofsmoke。
`Amoderatewalkalongthismoor—pathbringsustoMerripitHouse，’
saidhe。`PerhapsyouwillspareanhourthatImayhavethepleasureofintroducingyoutomysister。’
MyfirstthoughtwasthatIshouldbebySirHenry’sside。ButthenIrememberedthepileofpapersandbillswithwhichhisstudytablewaslittered。ItwascertainthatIcouldnothelpwiththose。AndHolmeshadexpresslysaidthatIshouldstudytheneighboursuponthemoor。I
acceptedStapleton’sinvitation，andweturnedtogetherdownthepath。
`Itisawonderfulplace，themoor，’saidhe，lookingroundovertheundulatingdowns，longgreenrollers，withcrestsofjaggedgranitefoamingupintofantasticsurges。`Younevertireofthemoor。Youcannotthinkthewonderfulsecretswhichitcontains。Itissovast，andsobarren，andsomysterious。’
`Youknowitwell，then？’
`Ihaveonlybeenheretwoyears。Theresidentswouldcallmeanewcomer。WecameshortlyafterSirCharlessettled。Butmytastesledmetoexploreeverypartofthecountryround，andIshouldthinkthattherearefewmenwhoknowitbetterthanIdo。’
`Isithardtoknow？’
`Veryhard。Yousee，forexample，thisgreatplaintothenorthherewiththequeerhillsbreakingoutofit。Doyouobserveanythingremarkableaboutthat？’
`Itwouldbearareplaceforagallop。’
`Youwouldnaturallythinksoandthethoughthascostseveraltheirlivesbeforenow。Younoticethosebrightgreenspotsscatteredthicklyoverit？’
`Yes，theyseemmorefertilethantherest。’
Stapletonlaughed。
`ThatisthegreatGrimpenMire，’saidhe。`Afalsestepyondermeansdeathtomanorbeast。OnlyyesterdayIsawoneofthemoorponieswanderintoit。Henevercameout。Isawhisheadforquitealongtimecraningoutofthebog—hole，butitsuckedhimdownatlast。Evenindryseasonsitisadangertocrossit，butaftertheseautumnrainsitisanawfulplace。AndyetIcanfindmywaytotheveryheartofitandreturnalive。ByGeorge，thereisanotherofthosemiserableponies！’
Somethingbrownwasrollingandtossingamongthegreensedges。
Thenalong，agonized，writhingneckshotupwardandadreadfulcryechoedoverthemoor。Itturnedmecoldwithhorror，butmycompanion’snervesseemedtobestrongerthanmine。
`It’sgone！’saidhe。`Themirehashim。Twointwodays，andmanymore，perhaps，fortheygetinthewayofgoingthereinthedryweatherandneverknowthedifferenceuntilthemirehastheminitsclutches。
It’sabadplace，thegreatGrimpenMire。’
`Andyousayyoucanpenetrateit？’
`Yes，thereareoneortwopathswhichaveryactivemancantake。
Ihavefoundthemout。’
`Butwhyshouldyouwishtogointosohorribleaplace？’
`Well，youseethehillsbeyond？Theyarereallyislandscutoffonallsidesbytheimpassablemire，whichhascrawledroundtheminthecourseofyears。Thatiswheretherareplantsandthebutterfliesare，ifyouhavethewittoreachthem。’
`Ishalltrymylucksomeday。’
Helookedatmewithasurprisedface。
`ForGod’ssakeputsuchanideaoutofyourmind，’saidhe。
`Yourbloodwouldbeuponmyhead。Iassureyouthattherewouldnotbetheleastchanceofyourcomingbackalive。ItisonlybyrememberingcertaincomplexlandmarksthatIamabletodoit。’
`Halloa！’Icried。`Whatisthat？’
Along，lowmoan，indescribablysad，sweptoverthemoor。Itfilledthewholeair，andyetitwasimpossibletosaywhenceitcame。Fromadullmurmuritswelledintoadeeproar，andthensankbackintoamelancholy，throbbingmurmuronceagain。Stapletonlookedatmewithacuriousexpressioninhisface。
`Queerplace，themoor！’saidhe。
`Butwhatisit？’
`ThepeasantssayitistheHoundoftheBaskervillescallingforitsprey。
I’vehearditonceortwicebefore，butneverquitesoloud。’
Ilookedround，withachilloffearinmyheart，atthehugeswellingplain，mottledwiththegreenpatchesofrushes。Nothingstirredoverthevastexpansesaveapairofravens，whichcroakedloudlyfromatorbehindus。
`Youareaneducatedman。Youdon’tbelievesuchnonsenseasthat？’
saidI。`Whatdoyouthinkisthecauseofsostrangeasound？’
`Bogsmakequeernoisessometimes。It’sthemudsettling，orthewaterrising，orsomething。’
`No，no，thatwasalivingvoice。’
`Well，perhapsitwas。Didyoueverhearabitternbooming？’
`No，Ineverdid。’
`It’saveryrarebird—practicallyextinct—inEnglandnow，butallthingsarepossibleuponthemoor。Yes，Ishouldnotbesurprisedtolearnthatwhatwehaveheardisthecryofthelastofthebitterns。’
`It’stheweirdest，strangestthingthateverIheardinmylife。’
`Yes，it’sratheranuncannyplacealtogether。Lookatthehillsideyonder。Whatdoyoumakeofthose？’
Thewholesteepslopewascoveredwithgraycircularringsofstone，ascoreofthematleast。
`Whatarethey？Sheep—pens？’
`No，theyarethehomesofourworthyancestors。Prehistoricmanlivedthicklyonthemoor，andasnooneinparticularhaslivedtheresince，wefindallhislittlearrangementsexactlyasheleftthem。Thesearehiswigwamswiththeroofsoff。Youcanevenseehishearthandhiscouchifyouhavethecuriositytogoinside。
`Butitisquiteatown。Whenwasitinhabited？’
`Neolithicman—nodate。’
`Whatdidhedo？’
`Hegrazedhiscattleontheseslopes，andhelearnedtodigfortinwhenthebronzeswordbegantosupersedethestoneaxe。Lookatthegreattrenchintheoppositehill。Thatishismark。Yes，youwillfindsomeverysingularpointsaboutthemoor，Dr。Watson。Oh，excusemeaninstant！ItissurelyCyclopides。’
Asmallflyormothhadflutteredacrossourpath，andinaninstantStapletonwasrushingwithextraordinaryenergyandspeedinpursuitofit。
Tomydismaythecreatureflewstraightforthegreatmire，andmyacquaintanceneverpausedforaninstant，boundingfromtufttotuftbehindit，hisgreennetwavingintheair。Hisgrayclothesandjerky，zigzag，irregularprogressmadehimnotunlikesomehugemothhimself。
IwasstandingwatchinghispursuitwithamixtureofadmirationforhisextraordinaryactivityandfearlestheshouldlosehisfootinginthetreacherousmirewhenIheardthesoundofstepsand，turninground，foundawomannearmeuponthepath。ShehadcomefromthedirectioninwhichtheplumeofsmokeindicatedthepositionofMerripitHouse，butthedipofthemoorhadhidheruntilshewasquiteclose。
IcouldnotdoubtthatthiswastheMissStapletonofwhomIhadbeentold，sinceladiesofanysortmustbefewuponthemoor，andIrememberedthatIhadheardsomeonedescribeherasbeingabeauty。Thewomanwhoapproachedmewascertainlythat，andofamostuncommontype。Therecouldnothavebeenagreatercontrastbetweenbrotherandsister，forStapletonwasneutraltinted，withlighthairandgrayeyes，whileshewasdarkerthananybrunettewhomIhaveseeninEngland—slim，elegant，andtall。
Shehadaproud，finelycutface，soregularthatitmighthaveseemedimpassivewereitnotforthesensitivemouthandthebeautifuldark，eagereyes。Withherperfectfigureandelegantdressshewas，indeed，astrangeapparitionuponalonelymoorlandpath。HereyeswereonherbrotherasIturned，andthenshequickenedherpacetowardsme。Ihadraisedmyhatandwasabouttomakesomeexplanatoryremarkwhenherownwordsturnedallmythoughtsintoanewchannel。
`Goback！’shesaid。`GostraightbacktoLondon，instantly。’
Icouldonlystareatherinstupidsurprise。Hereyesblazedatme，andshetappedthegroundimpatientlywithherfoot。
`WhyshouldIgoback？’Iasked。
`Icannotexplain。’Shespokeinalow，eagervoice，withacuriouslispinherutterance。`ButforGod’ssakedowhatIaskyou。Gobackandneversetfootuponthemooragain。’
`ButIhaveonlyjustcome。’
`Man，man！’shecried。`Canyounottellwhenawarningisforyourowngood？GobacktoLondon！Startto—night！Getawayfromthisplaceatallcosts！Hush，mybrotheriscoming！NotawordofwhatIhavesaid。
Wouldyoumindgettingthatorchidformeamongthemare’s—tailsyonder？
Weareveryrichinorchidsonthemoor，though，ofcourse，youareratherlatetoseethebeautiesoftheplace。’
Stapletonhadabandonedthechaseandcamebacktousbreathinghardandflushedwithhisexertions。
`Halloa，Beryl！’saidhe，anditseemedtomethatthetoneofhisgreetingwasnotaltogetheracordialone。
`Well，Jack，youareveryhot。’
`Yes，IwaschasingaCyclopides。Heisveryrareandseldomfoundinthelateautumn。WhatapitythatIshouldhavemissedhim！’Hespokeunconcernedly，buthissmalllighteyesglancedincessantlyfromthegirltome。
`Youhaveintroducedyourselves，Icansee。’
`Yes。IwastellingSirHenrythatitwasratherlateforhimtoseethetruebeautiesofthemoor。’
`Why，whodoyouthinkthisis？’
`IimaginethatitmustbeSirHenryBaskerville。’
`No，no，’saidI。`Onlyahumblecommoner，buthisfriend。MynameisDr。Watson。’
Aflushofvexationpassedoverherexpressiveface。`Wehavebeentalkingatcrosspurposes，’saidshe。
`Why，youhadnotverymuchtimefortalk，’herbrotherremarkedwiththesamequestioningeyes。
`ItalkedasifDr。Watsonwerearesidentinsteadofbeingmerelyavisitor，’saidshe。`Itcannotmuchmattertohimwhetheritisearlyorlatefortheorchids。Butyouwillcomeon，willyounot，andseeMerripitHouse？’
Ashortwalkbroughtustoit，ableakmoorlandhouse，oncethefarmofsomegrazierintheoldprosperousdays，butnowputintorepairandturnedintoamoderndwelling。Anorchardsurroundedit，butthetrees，asisusualuponthemoor，werestuntedandnipped，andtheeffectofthewholeplacewasmeanandmelancholy。Wewereadmittedbyastrange，wizened，rusty—coatedoldmanservant，whoseemedinkeepingwiththehouse。Inside，however，therewerelargeroomsfurnishedwithaneleganceinwhichIseemedtorecognizethetasteofthelady。AsIlookedfromtheirwindowsattheinterminablegranite—fleckedmoorrollingunbrokentothefarthesthorizonIcouldnotbutmarvelatwhatcouldhavebroughtthishighlyeducatedmanandthisbeautifulwomantoliveinsuchaplace。
`Queerspottochoose，isitnot？’saidheasifinanswertomythought。`Andyetwemanagetomakeourselvesfairlyhappy，dowenot，Beryl？’
`Quitehappy，’saidshe，buttherewasnoringofconvictioninherwords。
`Ihadaschool，’saidStapleton。`Itwasinthenorthcountry。
Theworktoamanofmytemperamentwasmechanicalanduninteresting，buttheprivilegeoflivingwithyouth，ofhelpingtomouldthoseyoungminds，andofimpressingthemwithone’sowncharacterandidealswasverydeartome。However，thefateswereagainstus。Aseriousepidemicbrokeoutintheschoolandthreeoftheboysdied。Itneverrecoveredfromtheblow，andmuchofmycapitalwasirretrievablyswallowedup。Andyet，ifitwerenotforthelossofthecharmingcompanionshipoftheboys，Icouldrejoiceovermyownmisfortune，for，withmystrongtastesforbotanyandzoology，Ifindanunlimitedfieldofworkhere，andmysisterisasdevotedtoNatureasIam。Allthis，Dr。Watson，hasbeenbroughtuponyourheadbyyourexpressionasyousurveyedthemooroutofourwindow。’
`Itcertainlydidcrossmymindthatitmightbealittledull—lessforyou，perhaps，thanforyoursister。’
`No，no，Iamneverdull，’saidshequickly。
`Wehavebooks，wehaveourstudies，andwehaveinterestingneighbours。
Dr。Mortimerisamostlearnedmaninhisownline。PoorSirCharleswasalsoanadmirablecompanion。WeknewhimwellandmisshimmorethanI
cantell。DoyouthinkthatIshouldintrudeifIweretocallthisafternoonandmaketheacquaintanceofSirHenry？’
`Iamsurethathewouldbedelighted。’
`ThenperhapsyouwouldmentionthatIproposetodoso。Wemayinourhumblewaydosomethingtomakethingsmoreeasyforhimuntilhebecomesaccustomedtohisnewsurroundings。Willyoucomeupstairs，Dr。
Watson，andinspectmycollectionofLepidoptera？Ithinkitisthemostcompleteoneinthesouth—westofEngland。Bythetimethatyouhavelookedthroughthemlunchwillbealmostready。’
ButIwaseagertogetbacktomycharge。Themelancholyofthemoor，thedeathoftheunfortunatepony，theweirdsoundwhichhadbeenassociatedwiththegrimlegendoftheBaskervilles，allthesethingstingedmythoughtswithsadness。ThenonthetopofthesemoreorlessvagueimpressionstherehadcomethedefiniteanddistinctwarningofMissStapleton，deliveredwithsuchintenseearnestnessthatIcouldnotdoubtthatsomegraveanddeepreasonlaybehindit。Iresistedallpressuretostayforlunch，andIsetoffatonceuponmyreturnjourney，takingthegrass—grownpathbywhichwehadcome。
Itseems，however，thattheremusthavebeensomeshortcutforthosewhoknewit，forbeforeIhadreachedtheroadIwasastoundedtoseeMissStapletonsittinguponarockbythesideofthetrack。Herfacewasbeautifullyflushedwithherexertionsandsheheldherhandtoherside。
`Ihaverunallthewayinordertocutyouoff，Dr。Watson，’
saidshe。`Ihadnoteventimetoputonmyhat。Imustnotstop，ormybrothermaymissme。IwantedtosaytoyouhowsorryIamaboutthestupidmistakeImadeinthinkingthatyouwereSirHenry。PleaseforgetthewordsIsaid，whichhavenoapplicationwhatevertoyou。’
`ButIcan’tforgetthem，MissStapleton，’saidI。`IamSirHenry’sfriend，andhiswelfareisaverycloseconcernofmine。TellmewhyitwasthatyouweresoeagerthatSirHenryshouldreturntoLondon。’
`Awoman’swhim，Dr。Watson。WhenyouknowmebetteryouwillunderstandthatIcannotalwaysgivereasonsforwhatIsayordo。’
`No，no。Irememberthethrillinyourvoice。Irememberthelookinyoureyes。Please，please，befrankwithme，MissStapleton，foreversinceIhavebeenhereIhavebeenconsciousofshadowsallroundme。LifehasbecomelikethatgreatGrimpenMire，withlittlegreenpatcheseverywhereintowhichonemaysinkandwithnoguidetopointthetrack。Tellmethenwhatitwasthatyoumeant，andIwillpromisetoconveyyourwarningtoSirHenry。’
Anexpressionofirresolutionpassedforaninstantoverherface，buthereyeshadhardenedagainwhensheansweredme。
`Youmaketoomuchofit，Dr。Watson，’saidshe。`MybrotherandIwereverymuchshockedbythedeathofSirCharles。Weknewhimveryintimately，forhisfavouritewalkwasoverthemoortoourhouse。Hewasdeeplyimpressedwiththecursewhichhungoverthefamily，andwhenthistragedycameInaturallyfeltthattheremustbesomegroundsforthefearswhichhehadexpressed。Iwasdistressedthereforewhenanothermemberofthefamilycamedowntolivehere，andIfeltthatheshouldbewarnedofthedangerwhichhewillrun。ThatwasallwhichIintendedtoconvey。
`Butwhatisthedanger？’
`Youknowthestoryofthehound？’
`Idonotbelieveinsuchnonsense。’
`ButIdo。IfyouhaveanyinfluencewithSirHenry，takehimawayfromaplacewhichhasalwaysbeenfataltohisfamily。Theworldiswide。Whyshouldhewishtoliveattheplaceofdanger？’
`Becauseitistheplaceofdanger。ThatisSirHenry’snature。
Ifearthatunlessyoucangivemesomemoredefiniteinformationthanthisitwouldbeimpossibletogethimtomove。’
`Icannotsayanythingdefinite，forIdonotknowanythingdefinite。’
`Iwouldaskyouonemorequestion，MissStapleton。Ifyoumeantnomorethanthiswhenyoufirstspoketome，whyshouldyounotwishyourbrothertooverhearwhatyousaid？Thereisnothingtowhichhe，oranyoneelse，couldobject。’
`MybrotherisveryanxioustohavetheHallinhabited，forhethinksitisforthegoodofthepoorfolkuponthemoor。HewouldbeveryangryifheknewthatIhavesaidanythingwhichmightinduceSirHenrytogoaway。ButIhavedonemydutynowandIwillsaynomore。Imustgoback，orhewillmissmeandsuspectthatIhaveseenyou。Good—bye！’
Sheturnedandhaddisappearedinafewminutesamongthescatteredboulders，whileI，withmysoulfullofvaguefears，pursuedmywaytoBaskervilleHall。
[NextChapter][TableofContents]ConanDoyle：TheHoundoftheBaskervilles08[TableofContents]Chapter8FirstReportofDr。WatsonFromthispointonwardIwillfollowthecourseofeventsbytranscribingmyownletterstoMr。SherlockHolmeswhichliebeforemeonthetable。
Onepageismissing，butotherwisetheyareexactlyaswrittenandshowmyfeelingsandsuspicionsofthemomentmoreaccuratelythanmymemory，clearasitisuponthesetragicevents，canpossiblydo。BaskervilleHall，October13th。MydearHolmes：
MypreviouslettersandtelegramshavekeptyouprettywelluptodateastoallthathasoccurredinthismostGod—forsakencorneroftheworld。Thelongeronestaysherethemoredoesthespiritofthemoorsinkintoone’ssoul，itsvastness，andalsoitsgrimcharm。WhenyouareonceoutuponitsbosomyouhaveleftalltracesofmodernEnglandbehindyou，but，ontheotherhand，youareconsciouseverywhereofthehomesandtheworkoftheprehistoricpeople。Onallsidesofyouasyouwalkarethehousesoftheseforgottenfolk，withtheirgravesandthehugemonolithswhicharesupposedtohavemarkedtheirtemples。Asyoulookattheirgraystonehutsagainstthescarredhillsidesyouleaveyourownagebehindyou，andifyouweretoseeaskin—clad，hairymancrawloutfromthelowdoorfittingaflint—tippedarrowontothestringofhisbow，youwouldfeelthathispresencetherewasmorenaturalthanyourown。Thestrangethingisthattheyshouldhavelivedsothicklyonwhatmustalwayshavebeenmostunfruitfulsoil。Iamnoantiquarian，butI
couldimaginethattheyweresomeunwarlikeandharriedracewhowereforcedtoacceptthatwhichnoneotherwouldoccupy。
Allthis，however，isforeigntothemissiononwhichyousentmeandwillprobablybeveryuninterestingtoyourseverelypracticalmind。
Icanstillrememberyourcompleteindifferenceastowhetherthesunmovedroundtheearthortheearthroundthesun。Letme，therefore，returntothefactsconcerningSirHenryBaskerville。
Ifyouhavenothadanyreportwithinthelastfewdaysitisbecauseuptoto—daytherewasnothingofimportancetorelate。Thenaverysurprisingcircumstanceoccurred，whichIshalltellyouinduecourse。
But，firstofall，Imustkeepyouintouchwithsomeoftheotherfactorsinthesituation。
Oneofthese，concerningwhichIhavesaidlittle，istheescapedconvictuponthemoor。Thereisstrongreasonnowtobelievethathehasgotrightaway，whichisaconsiderablerelieftothelonelyhouseholdersofthisdistrict。Afortnighthaspassedsincehisflight，duringwhichhehasnotbeenseenandnothinghasbeenheardofhim。Itissurelyinconceivablethathecouldhaveheldoutuponthemoorduringallthattime。Ofcourse，sofarashisconcealmentgoesthereisnodifficultyatall。Anyoneofthesestonehutswouldgivehimahiding—place。Butthereisnothingtoeatunlessheweretocatchandslaughteroneofthemoorsheep。Wethink，therefore，thathehasgone，andtheoutlyingfarmerssleepthebetterinconsequence。
Wearefourable—bodiedmeninthishousehold，sothatwecouldtakegoodcareofourselves，butIconfessthatIhavehaduneasymomentswhenIhavethoughtoftheStapletons。Theylivemilesfromanyhelp。Thereareonemaid，anoldmanservant，thesister，andthebrother，thelatternotaverystrongman。TheywouldbehelplessinthehandsofadesperatefellowlikethisNottingHillcriminalifhecouldonceeffectanentrance。
BothSirHenryandIwereconcernedattheirsituation，anditwassuggestedthatPerkinsthegroomshouldgoovertosleepthere，butStapletonwouldnothearofit。
Thefactisthatourfriend，thebaronet，beginstodisplayaconsiderableinterestinourfairneighbour。Itisnottobewonderedat，fortimehangsheavilyinthislonelyspottoanactivemanlikehim，andsheisaveryfascinatingandbeautifulwoman。Thereissomethingtropicalandexoticaboutherwhichformsasingularcontrasttohercoolandunemotionalbrother。Yethealsogivestheideaofhiddenfires。Hehascertainlyaverymarkedinfluenceoverher，forIhaveseenhercontinuallyglanceathimasshetalkedasifseekingapprobationforwhatshesaid。Itrustthatheiskindtoher。Thereisadryglitterinhiseyesandafirmsetofhisthinlips，whichgoeswithapositiveandpossiblyaharshnature。
Youwouldfindhimaninterestingstudy。
HecameovertocalluponBaskervilleonthatfirstday，andtheverynextmorninghetookusbothtoshowusthespotwherethelegendofthewickedHugoissupposedtohavehaditsorigin。Itwasanexcursionofsomemilesacrossthemoortoaplacewhichissodismalthatitmighthavesuggestedthestory。Wefoundashortvalleybetweenruggedtorswhichledtoanopen，grassyspacefleckedoverwiththewhitecottongrass。
Inthemiddleofitrosetwogreatstones，wornandsharpenedattheupperenduntiltheylookedlikethehugecorrodingfangsofsomemonstrousbeast。
Ineverywayitcorrespondedwiththesceneoftheoldtragedy。SirHenrywasmuchinterestedandaskedStapletonmorethanoncewhetherhedidreallybelieveinthepossibilityoftheinterferenceofthesupernaturalintheaffairsofmen。Hespokelightly，butitwasevidentthathewasverymuchinearnest。Stapletonwasguardedinhisreplies，butitwaseasytoseethathesaidlessthanhemight，andthathewouldnotexpresshiswholeopinionoutofconsiderationforthefeelingsofthebaronet。Hetoldusofsimilarcases，wherefamilieshadsufferedfromsomeevilinfluence，andheleftuswiththeimpressionthathesharedthepopularviewuponthematter。
OnourwaybackwestayedforlunchatMerripitHouse，anditwastherethatSirHenrymadetheacquaintanceofMissStapleton。Fromthefirstmomentthathesawherheappearedtobestronglyattractedbyher，andIammuchmistakenifthefeelingwasnotmutual。Hereferredtoheragainandagainonourwalkhome，andsincethenhardlyadayhaspassedthatwehavenotseensomethingofthebrotherandsister。
Theydinehereto—night，andthereissometalkofourgoingtothemnextweek。OnewouldimaginethatsuchamatchwouldbeverywelcometoStapleton，andyetIhavemorethanoncecaughtalookofthestrongestdisapprobationinhisfacewhenSirHenryhasbeenpayingsomeattentiontohissister。Heismuchattachedtoher，nodoubt，andwouldleadalonelylifewithouther，butitwouldseemtheheightofselfishnessifheweretostandinthewayofhermakingsobrilliantamarriage。YetIamcertainthathedoesnotwishtheirintimacytoripenintolove，andIhaveseveraltimesobservedthathehastakenpainstopreventthemfrombeingtête—à—tête。
Bytheway，yourinstructionstomenevertoallowSirHenrytogooutalonewillbecomeverymuchmoreonerousifaloveaffairweretobeaddedtoourotherdifficulties。MypopularitywouldsoonsufferifIweretocarryoutyourorderstotheletter。
Theotherday—Thursday，tobemoreexact—Dr。Mortimerlunchedwithus。HehasbeenexcavatingabarrowatLongDownandhasgotaprehistoricskullwhichfillshimwithgreatjoy。Neverwastheresuchasingle—mindedenthusiastashe！TheStapletonscameinafterwards，andthegooddoctortookusalltotheyewalleyatSirHenry’srequesttoshowusexactlyhoweverythingoccurreduponthatfatalnight。
Itisalong，dismalwalk，theyewalley，betweentwohighwallsofclippedhedge，withanarrowbandofgrassuponeitherside。Atthefarendisanoldtumble—downsummer—house。Halfwaydownisthemoor—gate，wheretheoldgentlemanlefthiscigar—ash。Itisawhitewoodengatewithalatch。Beyonditliesthewidemoor。Irememberedyourtheoryoftheaffairandtriedtopictureallthathadoccurred。Astheoldmanstoodtherehesawsomethingcomingacrossthemoor，somethingwhichterrifiedhimsothathelosthiswitsandranandranuntilhediedofsheerhorrorandexhaustion。Therewasthelong，gloomytunneldownwhichhefled。Andfromwhat？Asheep—dogofthemoor？Oraspectralhound，black，silent，andmonstrous？Wasthereahumanagencyinthematter？Didthepale，watchfulBarrymoreknowmorethanhecaredtosay？Itwasalldimandvague，butalwaysthereisthedarkshadowofcrimebehindit。
OneotherneighbourIhavemetsinceIwrotelast。ThisisMr。
Frankland，ofLafterHall，wholivessomefourmilestothesouthofus。
Heisanelderlyman，red—faced，white—haired，andcholeric。HispassionisfortheBritishlaw，andhehasspentalargefortuneinlitigation。
Hefightsforthemerepleasureoffightingandisequallyreadytotakeupeithersideofaquestion，sothatitisnowonderthathehasfounditacostlyamusement。Sometimeshewillshutuparightofwayanddefytheparishtomakehimopenit。Atothershewillwithhisownhandsteardownsomeotherman’sgateanddeclarethatapathhasexistedtherefromtimeimmemorial，defyingtheownertoprosecutehimfortrespass。Heislearnedinoldmanorialandcommunalrights，andheapplieshisknowledgesometimesinfavourofthevillagersofFernworthyandsometimesagainstthem，sothatheisperiodicallyeithercarriedintriumphdownthevillagestreetorelseburnedineffigy，accordingtohislatestexploit。Heissaidtohaveaboutsevenlawsuitsuponhishandsatpresent，whichwillprobablyswallowuptheremainderofhisfortuneandsodrawhisstingandleavehimharmlessforthefuture。Apartfromthelawheseemsakindly，good—naturedperson，andIonlymentionhimbecauseyouwereparticularthatIshouldsendsomedescriptionofthepeoplewhosurroundus。Heiscuriouslyemployedatpresent，for，beinganamateurastronomer，hehasanexcellenttelescope，withwhichheliesupontheroofofhisownhouseandsweepsthemooralldayinthehopeofcatchingaglimpseoftheescapedconvict。Ifhewouldconfinehisenergiestothisallwouldbewell，buttherearerumoursthatheintendstoprosecuteDr。MortimerforopeningagravewithouttheconsentofthenextofkinbecauseheduguptheneolithicskullinthebarrowonLongDown。Hehelpstokeepourlivesfrombeingmonotonousandgivesalittlecomicreliefwhereitisbadlyneeded。
Andnow，havingbroughtyouuptodateintheescapedconvict，theStapletons，Dr。Mortimer，andFrankland，ofLafterHall，letmeendonthatwhichismostimportantandtellyoumoreabouttheBarrymores，andespeciallyaboutthesurprisingdevelopmentoflastnight。
Firstofallaboutthetesttelegram，whichyousentfromLondoninordertomakesurethatBarrymorewasreallyhere。Ihavealreadyexplainedthatthetestimonyofthepostmastershowsthatthetestwasworthlessandthatwehavenoproofonewayortheother。ItoldSirHenryhowthematterstood，andheatonce，inhisdownrightfashion，hadBarrymoreupandaskedhimwhetherhehadreceivedthetelegramhimself。Barrymoresaidthathehad。
`Didtheboydeliveritintoyourownhands？’askedSirHenry。
Barrymorelookedsurprised，andconsideredforalittletime。
`No，’saidhe，`Iwasinthebox—roomatthetime，andmywifebroughtituptome。’
`Didyouanswerityourself？’
`No;Itoldmywifewhattoanswerandshewentdowntowriteit。’
Intheeveningherecurredtothesubjectofhisownaccord。
`Icouldnotquiteunderstandtheobjectofyourquestionsthismorning，SirHenry，’saidhe。`ItrustthattheydonotmeanthatIhavedoneanythingtoforfeityourconfidence？’
SirHenryhadtoassurehimthatitwasnotsoandpacifyhimbygivinghimaconsiderablepartofhisoldwardrobe，theLondonoutfithavingnowallarrived。
Mrs。Barrymoreisofinteresttome。Sheisaheavy，solidperson，verylimited，intenselyrespectable，andinclinedtobepuritanical。Youcouldhardlyconceivealessemotionalsubject。YetIhavetoldyouhow，onthefirstnighthere，Iheardhersobbingbitterly，andsincethenI
havemorethanonceobservedtracesoftearsuponherface。Somedeepsorrowgnawseveratherheart。SometimesIwonderifshehasaguiltymemorywhichhauntsher，andsometimesIsuspectBarrymoreofbeingadomestictyrant。Ihavealwaysfeltthattherewassomethingsingularandquestionableinthisman’scharacter，buttheadventureoflastnightbringsallmysuspicionstoahead。
Andyetitmayseemasmallmatterinitself。YouareawarethatIamnotaverysoundsleeper，andsinceIhavebeenonguardinthishousemyslumbershavebeenlighterthanever。Lastnight，abouttwointhemorning，Iwasarousedbyastealthysteppassingmyroom。Irose，openedmydoor，andpeepedout。Alongblackshadowwastrailingdownthecorridor。Itwasthrownbyamanwhowalkedsoftlydownthepassagewithacandleheldinhishand。Hewasinshirtandtrousers，withnocoveringtohisfeet。
Icouldmerelyseetheoutline，buthisheighttoldmethatitwasBarrymore。
Hewalkedveryslowlyandcircumspectly，andtherewassomethingindescribablyguiltyandfurtiveinhiswholeappearance。
Ihavetoldyouthatthecorridorisbrokenbythebalconywhichrunsroundthehall，butthatitisresumeduponthefartherside。IwaiteduntilhehadpassedoutofsightandthenIfollowedhim。WhenIcameroundthebalconyhehadreachedtheendofthefarthercorridor，andIcouldseefromtheglimmeroflightthroughanopendoorthathehadenteredoneoftherooms。Now，alltheseroomsareunfurnishedandunoccupiedsothathisexpeditionbecamemoremysteriousthanever。Thelightshonesteadilyasifhewerestandingmotionless。IcreptdownthepassageasnoiselesslyasIcouldandpeepedroundthecornerofthedoor。
Barrymorewascrouchingatthewindowwiththecandleheldagainsttheglass。Hisprofilewashalfturnedtowardsme，andhisfaceseemedtoberigidwithexpectationashestaredoutintotheblacknessofthemoor。
Forsomeminuteshestoodwatchingintently。Thenhegaveadeepgroanandwithanimpatientgestureheputoutthelight。InstantlyImademywaybacktomyroom，andveryshortlycamethestealthystepspassingoncemoreupontheirreturnjourney。LongafterwardswhenIhadfallenintoalightsleepIheardakeyturnsomewhereinalock，butIcouldnottellwhencethesoundcame。WhatitallmeansIcannotguess，butthereissomesecretbusinessgoingoninthishouseofgloomwhichsoonerorlaterweshallgettothebottomof。Idonottroubleyouwithmytheories，foryouaskedmetofurnishyouonlywithfacts。IhavehadalongtalkwithSirHenrythismorning，andwehavemadeaplanofcampaignfoundeduponmyobservationsoflastnight。Iwillnotspeakaboutitjustnow，butitshouldmakemynextreportinterestingreading。
[NextChapter][TableofContents]ConanDoyle：TheHoundoftheBaskervilles09[TableofContents]Chapter9TheLightUpontheMoor[SecondReportofDr。Watson]
BaskervilleHall，Oct。15th。MYDEARHOLMES：
IfIwascompelledtoleaveyouwithoutmuchnewsduringtheearlydaysofmymissionyoumustacknowledgethatIammakingupforlosttime，andthateventsarenowcrowdingthickandfastuponus。InmylastreportIendeduponmytopnotewithBarrymoreatthewindow，andnowIhavequiteabudgetalreadywhichwill，unlessIammuchmistaken，considerablysurpriseyou。ThingshavetakenaturnwhichIcouldnothaveanticipated。Insomewaystheyhavewithinthelastforty—eighthoursbecomemuchclearerandinsomewaystheyhavebecomemorecomplicated。ButIwilltellyouallandyoushalljudgeforyourself。
BeforebreakfastonthemorningfollowingmyadventureIwentdownthecorridorandexaminedtheroominwhichBarrymorehadbeenonthe—nightbefore。Thewesternwindowthroughwhichhehadstaredsointentlyhas，Inoticed，onepeculiarityaboveallotherwindowsinthehouse—
itcommandsthenearestoutlookontothemoor。Thereisanopeningbetweentwotreeswhichenablesonefromthispointofviewtolookrightdownuponit，whilefromalltheotherwindowsitisonlyadistantglimpsewhichcanbeobtained。Itfollows，therefore，thatBarrymore，sinceonlythiswindowwouldservethepurpose，musthavebeenlookingoutforsomethingorsomebodyuponthemoor。Thenightwasverydark，sothatIcanhardlyimaginehowhecouldhavehopedtoseeanyone。Ithadstruckmethatitwaspossiblethatsomeloveintriguewasonfoot。Thatwouldhaveaccountedforhisstealthymovementsandalsofortheuneasinessofhiswife。Themanisastriking—lookingfellow，verywellequippedtostealtheheartofacountrygirl，sothatthistheoryseemedtohavesomethingtosupportit。ThatopeningofthedoorwhichIhadheardafterIhadreturnedtomyroommightmeanthathehadgoneouttokeepsomeclandestineappointment。
SoIreasonedwithmyselfinthemorning，andItellyouthedirectionofmysuspicions，howevermuchtheresultmayhaveshownthattheywereunfounded。
ButwhateverthetrueexplanationofBarrymore’smovementsmightbe，IfeltthattheresponsibilityofkeepingthemtomyselfuntilIcouldexplainthemwasmorethanIcouldbear。Ihadaninterviewwiththebaronetinhisstudyafterbreakfast，andItoldhimallthatIhadseen。HewaslesssurprisedthanIhadexpected。
`IknewthatBarrymorewalkedaboutnights，andIhadamindtospeaktohimaboutit，’saidhe。`TwoorthreetimesIhaveheardhisstepsinthepassage，comingandgoing，justaboutthehouryouname。’
`Perhapsthenhepaysavisiteverynighttothatparticularwindow，’
Isuggested。
`Perhapshedoes。Ifso，weshouldbeabletoshadowhimandseewhatitisthatheisafter。
IwonderwhatyourfriendHolmeswoulddoifhewerehere。’
`Ibelievethathewoulddoexactlywhatyounowsuggest，’saidI。`HewouldfollowBarrymoreandseewhathedid。’
`Thenweshalldoittogether。’
`Butsurelyhewouldhearus。’
`Themanisratherdeaf，andinanycasewemusttakeourchanceofthat。We’llsitupinmyroomto—nightandwaituntilhepasses。’SirHenryrubbedhishandswithpleasure，anditwasevidentthathehailedtheadventureasarelieftohissomewhatquietlifeuponthemoor。
ThebaronethasbeenincommunicationwiththearchitectwhopreparedtheplansforSirCharles，andwithacontractorfromLondon，sothatwemayexpectgreatchangestobeginheresoon。TherehavebeendecoratorsandfurnishersupfromPlymouth，anditisevidentthatourfriendhaslargeideasandmeanstosparenopainsorexpensetorestorethegrandeurofhisfamily。Whenthehouseisrenovatedandrefurnished，allthathewillneedwillbeawifetomakeitcomplete。Betweenourselvesthereareprettyclearsignsthatthiswillnotbewantingiftheladyiswilling，forIhaveseldomseenamanmoreinfatuatedwithawomanthanheiswithourbeautifulneighbour，MissStapleton。Andyetthecourseoftruelovedoesnotrunquiteassmoothlyasonewouldunderthecircumstancesexpect。
To—day，forexample，itssurfacewasbrokenbyaveryunexpectedripple，whichhascausedourfriendconsiderableperplexityandannoyance。
AftertheconversationwhichIhavequotedaboutBarrymore，SirHenryputonhishatandpreparedtogoout。AsamatterofcourseIdidthesame。
`What，areyoucoming，Watson？’heasked，lookingatmeinacuriousway。
`Thatdependsonwhetheryouaregoingonthemoor，’saidI。
`Yes，Iam。’
`Well，youknowwhatmyinstructionsare。Iamsorrytointrude，butyouheardhowearnestlyHolmesinsistedthatIshouldnotleaveyou，andespeciallythatyoushouldnotgoaloneuponthemoor。’
SirHenryputhishanduponmyshoulder，withapleasantsmile。
`Mydearfellow，’saidhe，`Holmes，withallhiswisdom，didnotforeseesomethingswhichhavehappenedsinceIhavebeenonthemoor。
Youunderstandme？Iamsurethatyouarethelastmanintheworldwhowouldwishtobeaspoil—sport。Imustgooutalone。’
Itputmeinamostawkwardposition。Iwasatalosswhattosayorwhattodo，andbeforeIhadmadeupmymindhepickeduphiscaneandwasgone。