`Mrs。Lyons，’saidIasIrosefromthislongandinconclusiveinterview，`youaretakingaverygreatresponsibilityandputtingyourselfinaveryfalsepositionbynotmakinganabsolutelycleanbreastofallthatyouknow。IfIhavetocallintheaidofthepoliceyouwillfindhowseriouslyyouarecompromised。Ifyourpositionisinnocent，whydidyouinthefirstinstancedenyhavingwrittentoSirCharlesuponthatdate？’
`BecauseIfearedthatsomefalseconclusionmightbedrawnfromitandthatImightfindmyselfinvolvedinascandal。’
`AndwhywereyousopressingthatSirCharlesshoulddestroyyourletter？’
`Ifyouhavereadtheletteryouwillknow。’
`IdidnotsaythatIhadreadalltheletter。’
`Youquotedsomeofit。’
`Iquotedthepostscript。Theletterhad，asIsaid，beenburnedanditwasnotalllegible。IaskyouonceagainwhyitwasthatyouweresopressingthatSirCharlesshoulddestroythisletterwhichhereceivedonthedayofhisdeath。’
`Thematterisaveryprivateone。’
`Themorereasonwhyyoushouldavoidapublicinvestigation。’
`Iwilltellyou，then。IfyouhaveheardanythingofmyunhappyhistoryyouwillknowthatImadearashmarriageandhadreasontoregretit。’
`Ihaveheardsomuch。’
`MylifehasbeenoneincessantpersecutionfromahusbandwhomIabhor。Thelawisuponhisside，andeverydayIamfacedbythepossibilitythathemayforcemetolivewithhim。AtthetimethatIwrotethislettertoSirCharlesIhadlearnedthattherewasaprospectofmyregainingmyfreedomifcertainexpensescouldbemet。Itmeanteverythingtome—peaceofmind，happiness，self—respect—everything。IknewSirCharles’sgenerosity，andIthoughtthatifheheardthestoryfrommyownlipshewouldhelpme。’
`Thenhowisitthatyoudidnotgo？’
`BecauseIreceivedhelpintheintervalfromanothersource。’
`Whythen，didyounotwritetoSirCharlesandexplainthis？’
`SoIshouldhavedonehadInotseenhisdeathinthepapernextmorning。’
Thewoman’sstoryhungcoherentlytogether，andallmyquestionswereunabletoshakeit。Icouldonlycheckitbyfindingifshehad，indeed，instituteddivorceproceedingsagainstherhusbandatoraboutthetimeofthetragedy。
ItwasunlikelythatshewoulddaretosaythatshehadnotbeentoBaskervilleHallifshereallyhadbeen，foratrapwouldbenecessarytotakeherthere，andcouldnothavereturnedtoCoombeTraceyuntiltheearlyhoursofthemorning。Suchanexcursioncouldnotbekeptsecret。
Theprobabilitywas，therefore，thatshewastellingthetruth，or，atleast，apartofthetruth。Icameawaybaffledanddisheartened。OnceagainIhadreachedthatdeadwallwhichseemedtobebuiltacrosseverypathbywhichItriedtogetattheobjectofmymission。AndyetthemoreIthoughtofthelady’sfaceandofhermannerthemoreIfeltthatsomethingwasbeingheldbackfromme。Whyshouldsheturnsopale？Whyshouldshefightagainsteveryadmissionuntilitwasforcedfromher？Whyshouldshehavebeensoreticentatthetimeofthetragedy？Surelytheexplanationofallthiscouldnotbeasinnocentasshewouldhavemebelieve。ForthemomentIcouldproceednofartherinthatdirection，butmustturnbacktothatothercluewhichwastobesoughtforamongthestonehutsuponthemoor。
Andthatwasamostvaguedirection。IrealizeditasIdrovebackandnotedhowhillafterhillshowedtracesoftheancientpeople。
Barrymore’sonlyindicationhadbeenthatthestrangerlivedinoneoftheseabandonedhuts，andmanyhundredsofthemarescatteredthroughoutthelengthandbreadthofthemoor。ButIhadmyownexperienceforaguidesinceithadshownmethemanhimselfstandinguponthesummitoftheBlackTor。That，then，shouldbethecentreofmysearch。FromthereIshouldexploreeveryhutuponthemooruntilIlightedupontherightone。IfthismanwereinsideitIshouldfindoutfromhisownlips，atthepointofmyrevolverifnecessary，whohewasandwhyhehaddoggedussolong。
HemightslipawayfromusinthecrowdofRegentStreet，butitwouldpuzzlehimtodosouponthelonelymoor。Ontheotherhand，ifIshouldfindthehutanditstenantshouldnotbewithinitImustremainthere，howeverlongthevigil，untilhereturned。HolmeshadmissedhiminLondon。
ItwouldindeedbeatriumphformeifIcouldrunhimtoearthwheremymasterhadfailed。
Luckhadbeenagainstusagainandagaininthisinquiry，butnowatlastitcametomyaid。AndthemessengerofgoodfortunewasnoneotherthanMr。Frankland，whowasstanding，gray—whiskeredandred—faced，outsidethegateofbisgarden，whichopenedontothehighroadalongwhichItravelled。
`Good—day，Dr。Watson，’criedhewithunwontedgoodhumour，`youmustreallygiveyourhorsesarestandcomeintohaveaglassofwineandtocongratulateme。’
MyfeelingstowardshimwereveryfarfrombeingfriendlyafterwhatIhadheardofhistreatmentofhisdaughter，butIwasanxioustosendPerkinsandthewagonettehome，andtheopportunitywasagoodone。
IalightedandsentamessagetoSirHenrythatIshouldwalkoverintimefordinner。ThenIfollowedFranklandintohisdining—room。
`Itisagreatdayforme，sir—oneofthered—letterdaysofmylife，’hecriedwithmanychuckles。`Ihavebroughtoffadoubleevent。
Imeantoteachtheminthesepartsthatlawislaw，andthatthereisamanherewhodoesnotfeartoinvokeit。IhaveestablishedarightofwaythroughthecentreofoldMiddleton’spark，slapacrossit，sir，withinahundredyardsofhisownfrontdoor。Whatdoyouthinkofthat？We’llteachthesemagnatesthattheycannotrideroughshodovertherightsofthecommoners，confoundthem！AndI’veclosedthewoodwheretheFernworthyfolkusedtopicnic。Theseinfernalpeopleseemtothinkthattherearenorightsofproperty，andthattheycanswarmwheretheylikewiththeirpapersandtheirbottles。BothcasesdecidedDr。Watson，andbothinmyfavour。Ihaven’thadsuchadaysinceIhadSirJohnMorlandfortrespassbecauseheshotinhisownwarren。’
`Howonearthdidyoudothat？’
`Lookitupinthebooks，sir。Itwillrepayreading—Franklandv。Morland，CourtofQueen’sBench。Itcostme200pounds，butIgotmyverdict。’
`Diditdoyouanygood？’
`None，sir，none。IamproudtosaythatIhadnointerestinthematter。Iactentirelyfromasenseofpublicduty。Ihavenodoubt，forexample，thattheFernworthypeoplewillburnmeineffigyto—night。
Itoldthepolicelasttimetheydiditthattheyshouldstopthesedisgracefulexhibitions。TheCountyConstabularyisinascandalousstate，sir，andithasnotaffordedmetheprotectiontowhichIamentitled。ThecaseofFranklandv。Reginawillbringthematterbeforetheattentionofthepublic。Itoldthemthattheywouldhaveoccasiontoregrettheirtreatmentofme，andalreadymywordshavecometrue。’
`Howso？’Iasked。
Theoldmanputonaveryknowingexpression。
`BecauseIcouldtellthemwhattheyaredyingtoknow;butnothingwouldinducemetohelptherascalsinanyway。’
IhadbeencastingroundforsomeexcusebywhichIcouldgetawayfromhisgossip，butnowIbegantowishtohearmoreofit。Ihadseenenoughofthecontrarynatureoftheoldsinnertounderstandthatanystrongsignofinterestwouldbethesurestwaytostophisconfidences。
`Somepoachingcase，nodoubt？’saidIwithanindifferentmanner。
`Ha，ha，myboy，averymuchmoreimportantmatterthanthat！
Whatabouttheconvictonthemoor？’
Istared。`Youdon’tmeanthatyouknowwhereheis？’saidI。
`Imaynotknowexactlywhereheis，butIamquitesurethatIcouldhelpthepolicetolaytheirhandsonhim。Hasitneverstruckyouthatthewaytocatchthatmanwastofindoutwherehegothisfoodandsotraceittohim？’
Hecertainlyseemedtobegettinguncomfortablynearthetruth。
`Nodoubt，’saidI;`buthowdoyouknowthatheisanywhereuponthemoor？’
`IknowitbecauseIhaveseenwithmyowneyesthemessengerwhotakeshimhisfood。’
MyheartsankforBarrymore。Itwasaseriousthingtobeinthepowerofthisspitefuloldbusybody。Buthisnextremarktookaweightfrommymind。
`You’llbesurprisedtohearthathisfoodistakentohimbyachild。Iseehimeverydaythroughmytelescopeupontheroof。Hepassesalongthesamepathatthesamehour，andtowhomshouldhebegoingexcepttotheconvict？’
Herewasluckindeed！AndyetIsuppressedallappearanceofinterest。
Achild！Barrymorehadsaidthatourunknownwassuppliedbyaboy。Itwasonhistrack，andnotupontheconvict’s，thatFranklandhadstumbled。
IfIcouldgethisknowledgeitmightsavemealongandwearyhunt。Butincredulityandindifferencewereevidentlymystrongestcards。
`Ishouldsaythatitwasmuchmorelikelythatitwasthesonofoneofthemoorlandshepherdstakingouthisfather’sdinner。’
Theleastappearanceofoppositionstruckfireoutoftheoldautocrat。Hiseyeslookedmalignantlyatme，andhisgraywhiskersbristledlikethoseofanangrycat。
`Indeed，sir！’saidhe，pointingoutoverthewide—stretchingmoor。`DoyouseethatBlackToroveryonder？Well，doyouseethelowhillbeyondwiththethornbushuponit？Itisthestoniestpartofthewholemoor。Isthataplacewhereashepherdwouldbelikelytotakehisstation？Yoursuggestion，sir，isamostabsurdone。’
ImeeklyansweredthatIhadspokenwithoutknowingallthefacts。
Mysubmissionpleasedhimandledhimtofurtherconfidences。
`Youmaybesure，sir，thatIhaveverygoodgroundsbeforeI
cometoanopinion。Ihaveseentheboyagainandagainwithhisbundle。
Everyday，andsometimestwiceaday，Ihavebeenable—butwaitamoment，Dr。Watson。Domyeyesdeceiveme，oristhereatthepresentmomentsomethingmovinguponthathillside？’
Itwasseveralmilesoff，butIcoulddistinctlyseeasmalldarkdotagainstthedullgreenandgray。
`Come，sir，come！’criedFrankland，rushingupstairs。`Youwillseewithyourowneyesandjudgeforyourself。’
Thetelescope，aformidableinstrumentmounteduponatripod，stoodupontheflatleadsofthehouse。Franklandclappedhiseyetoitandgaveacryofsatisfaction。
`Quick，Dr。Watson，quick，beforehepassesoverthehill！’
Therehewas，sureenough，asmallurchinwithalittlebundleuponhisshoulder，toilingslowlyupthehill。WhenhereachedthecrestIsawtheraggeduncouthfigureoutlinedforaninstantagainstthecoldbluesky。Helookedroundhimwithafurtiveandstealthyair，asonewhodreadspursuit。Thenhevanishedoverthehill。
`Well！AmIright？’
`Certainly，thereisaboywhoseemstohavesomesecreterrand。’
`Andwhattheerrandisevenacountyconstablecouldguess。Butnotonewordshalltheyhavefromme，andIbindyoutosecrecyalso，Dr。
Watson。Notaword！Youunderstand！’
`Justasyouwish。’
`Theyhavetreatedmeshamefully—shamefully。WhenthefactscomeoutinFranklandv。ReginaIventuretothinkthatathrillofindignationwillrunthroughthecountry。Nothingwouldinducemetohelpthepoliceinanyway。Foralltheycareditmighthavebeenme，insteadofmyeffigy，whichtheserascalsburnedatthestake。Surelyyouarenotgoing！Youwillhelpmetoemptythedecanterinhonourofthisgreatoccasion！’
ButIresistedallhissolicitationsandsucceededindissuadinghimfromhisannouncedintentionofwalkinghomewithme。Ikepttheroadaslongashiseyewasonme，andthenIstruckoffacrossthemoorandmadeforthestonyhilloverwhichtheboyhaddisappeared。Everythingwasworkinginmyfavour，andIsworethatitshouldnotbethroughlackofenergyorperseverancethatIshouldmissthechancewhichfortunehadthrowninmyway。
ThesunwasalreadysinkingwhenIreachedthesummitofthehill，andthelongslopesbeneathmewereallgolden—greenononesideandgrayshadowontheother。Ahazelaylowuponthefarthestsky—line，outofwhichjuttedthefantasticshapesofBelliverandVixenTor。Overthewideexpansetherewasnosoundandnomovement。Onegreatgraybird，agullorcurlew，soaredaloftintheblueheaven。HeandIseemedtobetheonlylivingthingsbetweenthehugearchoftheskyandthedesertbeneathit。
Thebarrenscene，thesenseofloneliness，andthemysteryandurgencyofmytaskallstruckachillintomyheart。Theboywasnowheretobeseen。Butdownbeneathmeinacleftofthehillstherewasacircleoftheoldstonehuts，andinthemiddleofthemtherewasonewhichretainedsufficientrooftoactasascreenagainsttheweather。MyheartleapedwithinmeasIsawit。Thismustbetheburrowwherethestrangerlurked。
Atlastmyfootwasonthethresholdofhishidingplace—hissecretwaswithinmygrasp。
AsIapproachedthehut，walkingaswarilyasStapletonwoulddowhenwithpoisednethedrewnearthesettledbutterfly，Isatisfiedmyselfthattheplacehadindeedbeenusedasahabitation。Avaguepathwayamongthebouldersledtothedilapidatedopeningwhichservedasadoor。
Allwassilentwithin。Theunknownmightbelurkingthere，orhemightbeprowlingonthemoor。Mynervestingledwiththesenseofadventure。
Throwingasidemycigarette，Iclosedmyhanduponthebuttofmyrevolverand，walkingswiftlyuptothedoor，Ilookedin。Theplacewasempty。
ButtherewereamplesignsthatIhadnotcomeuponafalsescent。
Thiswascertainlywherethemanlived。Someblanketsrolledinawaterprooflayuponthatverystoneslabuponwhichneolithicmanhadonceslumbered。
Theashesofafirewereheapedinarudegrate。Besideitlaysomecookingutensilsandabuckethalf—fullofwater。Alitterofemptytinsshowedthattheplacehadbeenoccupiedforsometime，andIsaw，asmyeyesbecameaccustomedtothecheckeredlight，apannikinandahalf—fullbottleofspiritsstandinginthecorner。Inthemiddleofthehutaflatstoneservedthepurposeofatable，anduponthisstoodasmallclothbundle—thesame，nodoubt，whichIhadseenthroughthetelescopeupontheshoulderoftheboy。Itcontainedaloafofbread，atinnedtongue，andtwotinsofpreservedpeaches。AsIsetitdownagain，afterhavingexaminedit，myheartleapedtoseethatbeneathittherelayasheetofpaperwithwritinguponit。Iraisedit，andthiswaswhatIread，roughlyscrawledinpencil：`Dr。WatsonhasgonetoCoombeTracey。’
ForaminuteIstoodtherewiththepaperinmyhandsthinkingoutthemeaningofthiscurtmessage。ItwasI，then，andnotSirHenry，whowasbeingdoggedbythissecretman。
Hehadnotfollowedmehimself，buthehadsetanagent—theboy，perhaps—uponmytrack，andthiswashisreport。PossiblyIhadtakennostepsinceIhadbeenuponthemoorwhichhadnotbeenobservedandreported。Alwaystherewasthisfeelingofanunseenforce，afinenetdrawnrounduswithinfiniteskillanddelicacy，holdingussolightlythatitwasonlyatsomesuprememomentthatonerealizedthatonewasindeed—entangledinitsmeshes。
Iftherewasonereporttheremightbeothers，soIlookedroundthehutinsearchofthem。Therewasnotrace，however，ofanythingofthekind，norcouldIdiscoveranysignwhichmightindicatethecharacterorintentionsofthemanwholivedinthissingularplace，savethathemustbeofSpartanhabitsandcaredlittleforthecomfortsoflife。WhenIthoughtoftheheavyrainsandlookedatthegapingroofIunderstoodhowstrongandimmutablemustbethepurposewhichhadkepthiminthatinhospitableabode。Washeourmalignantenemy，orwashebychanceourguardianangel？IsworethatIwouldnotleavethehutuntilIknew。
Outsidethesunwassinkinglowandthewestwasblazingwithscarletandgold。ItsreflectionwasshotbackinruddypatchesbythedistantpoolswhichlayamidthegreatGrimpenMire。TherewerethetwotowersofBaskervilleHall，andthereadistantblurofsmokewhichmarkedthevillageofGrimpen。Betweenthetwo，behindthehill，wasthehouseoftheStapletons。Allwassweetandmellowandpeacefulinthegoldeneveninglight，andyetasIlookedatthemmysoulsharednoneofthepeaceofNaturebutquiveredatthevaguenessandtheterrorofthatinterviewwhicheveryinstantwasbringingnearer。Withtinglingnervesbutafixedpurpose，Isatinthedarkrecessofthehutandwaitedwithsombrepatienceforthecomingofitstenant。
AndthenatlastIheardhim。Farawaycamethesharpclinkofabootstrikinguponastone。Thenanotherandyetanother，comingnearerandnearer。Ishrankbackintothedarkestcornerandcockedthepistolinmypocket，determinednottodiscovermyselfuntilIhadanopportunityofseeingsomethingofthestranger。Therewasalongpausewhichshowedthathehadstopped。Thenoncemorethefootstepsapproachedandashadowfellacrosstheopeningofthehut。
`Itisalovelyevening，mydearWatson，’saidawell—knownvoice。
`Ireallythinkthatyouwillbemorecomfortableoutsidethanin。’
[NextChapter][TableofContents]ConanDoyle：TheHoundoftheBaskervilles12[TableofContents]Chapter12DeathontheMoorForamomentortwoIsatbreathless，hardlyabletobelievemyears。Thenmysensesandmyvoicecamebacktome，whileacrushingweightofresponsibilityseemedinaninstanttobeliftedfrommysoul。Thatcold，incisive，ironicalvoicecouldbelongtobutonemaninalltheworld。
`Holmes！’Icried—`Holmes！’
`Comeout，’saidhe，`andpleasebecarefulwiththerevolver。’
Istoopedundertherudelintel，andtherehesatuponastoneoutside，hisgrayeyesdancingwithamusementastheyfelluponmyastonishedfeatures。Hewasthinandworn，butclearandalert，hiskeenfacebronzedbythesunandroughenedbythewind。Inhistweedsuitandclothcaphelookedlikeanyothertouristuponthemoor，andhehadcontrived，withthatcatlikeloveofpersonalcleanlinesswhichwasoneofhischaracteristics，thathischinshouldbeassmoothandhislinenasperfectasifhewereinBakerStreet。
`Ineverwasmoregladtoseeanyoneinmylife，’saidIasI
wrunghimbythehand。
`Ormoreastonished，eh？’
`Well，Imustconfesstoit。’
`Thesurprisewasnotallononeside，Iassureyou。Ihadnoideathatyouhadfoundmyoccasionalretreat，stilllessthatyouwereinsideit，untilIwaswithintwentypacesofthedoor。’
`Myfootprint，Ipresume？’
`No，Watson，IfearthatIcouldnotundertaketorecognizeyourfootprintamidallthefootprintsoftheworld。Ifyouseriouslydesiretodeceivemeyoumustchangeyourtobacconist;forwhenIseethestubofacigarettemarkedBradley，OxfordStreet，IknowthatmyfriendWatsonisintheneighbourhood。Youwillseeittherebesidethepath。Youthrewitdown，nodoubt，atthatsuprememomentwhenyouchargedintotheemptyhut。’
`Exactly。’
`Ithoughtasmuch—andknowingyouradmirabletenacityIwasconvincedthatyouweresittinginambush，aweaponwithinreach，waitingforthetenanttoreturn。SoyouactuallythoughtthatIwasthecriminal？’
`Ididnotknowwhoyouwere，butIwasdeterminedtofindout。’
`Excellent，Watson！Andhowdidyoulocalizeme？Yousawme，perhaps，onthenightoftheconvicthunt，whenIwassoimprudentastoallowthemoontorisebehindme？’
`Yes，Isawyouthen。’
`Andhavenodoubtsearchedallthehutsuntilyoucametothisone？’
`No，yourboyhadbeenobserved，andthatgavemeaguidewheretolook。’
`Theoldgentlemanwiththetelescope，nodoubt。IcouldnotmakeitoutwhenfirstIsawthelightflashinguponthelens。’
Heroseandpeepedintothehut。`Ha，IseethatCartwrighthasbroughtupsomesupplies。What’sthispaper？SoyouhavebeentoCoombeTracey，haveyou？’
`Yes。’
`ToseeMrs。LauraLyons？’
`Exactly。’
`Welldone！Ourresearcheshaveevidentlybeenrunningonparallellines，andwhenweuniteourresultsIexpectweshallhaveafairlyfullknowledgeofthe`No，sir，thisisMr。Johnson，thecoal—owner，averyactivegentleman，notcase。’
`Well，Iamgladfrommyheartthatyouarehere，forindeedtheresponsibilityandthemysterywerebothbecomingtoomuchformynerves。
Buthowinthenameofwonderdidyoucomehere，andwhathaveyoubeendoing？IthoughtthatyouwereinBakerStreetworkingoutthatcaseofblackmailing。’
`ThatwaswhatIwishedyoutothink。’
`Thenyouuseme，andyetdonottrustme！’Icriedwithsomebitterness。`IthinkthatIhavedeservedbetteratyourhands，Holmes。’
`Mydearfellow，youhavebeeninvaluabletomeinthisasinmanyothercases，andIbegthatyouwillforgivemeifIhaveseemedtoplayatrickuponyou。Intruth，itwaspartlyforyourownsakethatI
didit，anditwasmyappreciationofthedangerwhichyouranwhichledmetocomedownandexaminethematterformyself。HadIbeenwithSirHenryandyouitisconfidentthatmypointofviewwouldhavebeenthesameasyours，andmypresencewouldhavewarnedourveryformidableopponentstobeontheirguard。Asitis，IhavebeenabletogetaboutasIcouldnotpossiblyhavedonehadIbeenlivingintheHall，andIremainanunknownfactorinthebusiness，readytothrowinallmyweightatacriticalmoment。’
`Butwhykeepmeinthedark？’
`Foryoutoknowcouldnothavehelpedusandmightpossiblyhaveledtomydiscovery。Youwouldhavewishedtotellmesomething，orinyourkindnessyouwouldhavebroughtmeoutsomecomfortorother，andsoanunnecessaryriskwouldberun。IbroughtCartwrightdownwithme—yourememberthelittlechapattheexpressoffice—andhehasseenaftermysimplewants：aloafofbreadandacleancollar。Whatdoesmanwantmore？Hehasgivenmeanextrapairofeyesuponaveryactivepairoffeet，andbothhavebeeninvaluable。’
`Thenmyreportshaveallbeenwasted！’—MyvoicetrembledasIrecalledthepainsandthepridewithwhichIhadcomposedthem。
Holmestookabundleofpapersfromhispocket。
`Hereareyourreports，mydearfellow，andverywellthumbed，Iassureyou。Imadeexcellentarrangements，andtheyareonlydelayedonedayupontheirway。Imustcomplimentyouexceedinglyuponthezealandtheintelligencewhichyouhaveshownoveranextraordinarilydifficultcase。’
Iwasstillratherrawoverthedeceptionwhichhadbeenpractiseduponme，butthewarmthofHolmes’spraisedrovemyangerfrommymind。
IfeltalsoinmyheartthathewasrightinwhathesaidandthatitwasreallybestforourpurposethatIshouldnothaveknownthathewasuponthemoor。
`That’sbetter，’saidhe，seeingtheshadowrisefrommyface。
`AndnowtellmetheresultofyourvisittoMrs。LauraLyons—itwasnotdifficultformetoguessthatitwastoseeherthatyouhadgone，forIamalreadyawarethatsheistheonepersoninCoombeTraceywhomightbeofservicetousinthematter。Infact，ifyouhadnotgoneto—dayitisexceedinglyprobablethatIshouldhavegoneto—morrow。’
Thesunhadsetandduskwassettlingoverthemoor。Theairhadturnedchillandwewithdrewintothehutforwarmth。Theresittingtogetherinthetwilight，ItoldHolmesofmyconversationwiththelady。SointerestedwashethatIhadtorepeatsomeofittwicebeforehewassatisfied。
`Thisismostimportant，’saidhewhenIhadconcluded。`ItfillsupagapwhichIhadbeenunabletobridgeinthismostcomplexaffair。
Youareaware，perhaps，thatacloseintimacyexistsbetweenthisladyandthemanStapleton？’
`Ididnotknowofacloseintimacy。’
`Therecanbenodoubtaboutthematter。Theymeet，theywrite，thereisacompleteunderstandingbetweenthem。Now，thisputsaverypowerfulweaponintoourhands。IfIcouldonlyuseittodetachhiswife’
`Hiswife？’
`Iamgivingyousomeinformationnow，inreturnforallthatyouhavegivenme。TheladywhohaspassedhereasMissStapletonisinrealityhiswife。’
`Goodheavens，Holmes！Areyousureofwhatyousay？HowcouldhehavepermittedSirHenrytofallinlovewithher？’
`SirHenry’sfallinginlovecoulddonoharmtoanyoneexceptSirHenry。HetookparticularcarethatSirHenrydidnotmakelovetoher，asyouhaveyourselfobserved。Irepeatthattheladyishiswifeandnothissister。’
`Butwhythiselaboratedeception？’
`Becauseheforesawthatshewouldbeverymuchmoreusefultohiminthecharacterofafreewoman。’
Allmyunspokeninstincts，myvaguesuspicions，suddenlytookshapeandcentreduponthenaturalist。Inthatimpassivecolourlessman，withhisstrawhatandhisbutterfly—net，Iseemedtoseesomethingterrible—acreatureofinfinitepatienceandcraft，withasmilingfaceandamurderousheart。
`Itishe，then，whoisourenemy—itishewhodoggedusinLondon？’
`SoIreadtheriddle。’
`Andthewarning—itmusthavecomefromher！’
`Exactly。’
Theshapeofsomemonstrousvillainy，halfseen，halfguessed，loomedthroughthedarknesswhichhadgirtmesolong。
`Butareyousureofthis，Holmes？Howdoyouknowthatthewomanishiswife？’
`Becausehesofarforgothimselfastotellyouatruepieceofautobiographyupontheoccasionwhenhefirstmetyou，andIdaresayhehasmanyatimeregretteditsince。HewasonceaschoolmasterinthenorthofEngland。Now，thereisnoonemoreeasytotracethanaschoolmaster。
Therearescholasticagenciesbywhichonemayidentifyanymanwhohasbeenintheprofession。Alittleinvestigationshowedmethataschoolhadcometogriefunderatrociouscircumstances，andthatthemanwhohadownedit—thenamewasdifferent—haddisappearedwithhiswife。Thedescriptionsagreed。WhenIlearnedthatthemissingmanwasdevotedtoentomologytheidentificationwascomplete。’
Thedarknesswasrising，butmuchwasstillhiddenbytheshadows。
`Ifthiswomanisintruthhiswife，wheredoesMrs。LauraLyonscomein？’Iasked。
`Thatisoneofthepointsuponwhichyourownresearcheshaveshedalight。Yourinterviewwiththeladyhasclearedthesituationverymuch。Ididnotknowaboutaprojecteddivorcebetweenherselfandherhusband。Inthatcase，regardingStapletonasanunmarriedman，shecountednodoubtuponbecominghiswife。’
`Andwhensheisundeceived？’
`Why，thenwemayfindtheladyofservice。Itmustbeourfirstdutytoseeher—bothofus—to—morrow。Don’tyouthink，Watson，thatyouareawayfromyourchargeratherlong？YourplaceshouldbeatBaskervilleHall。’
Thelastredstreakshadfadedawayinthewestandnighthadsettleduponthemoor。Afewfaintstarsweregleaminginavioletsky。
`Onelastquestion，Holmes，’IsaidasIrose。`Surelythereisnoneedofsecrecybetweenyouandme。Whatisthemeaningofitall？Whatisheafter？’
Holmes’svoicesankasheanswered：
`Itismurder，Watson—refined，cold—blooded，deliberatemurder。
Donotaskmeforparticulars。Mynetsareclosinguponhim，evenashisareuponSirHenry，andwithyourhelpheisalreadyalmostatmymercy。
Thereisbutonedangerwhichcanthreatenus。Itisthatheshouldstrikebeforewearereadytodoso。Anotherday—twoatthemost—andIhavemycasecomplete，butuntilthenguardyourchargeascloselyaseverafondmotherwatchedherailingchild。Yourmissionto—dayhasjustifieditself，andyetIcouldalmostwishthatyouhadnotlefthisside。Hark！’
Aterriblescream—aprolongedyellofhorrorandanguishburstoutofthesilenceofthemoor。Thatfrightfulcryturnedthebloodtoiceinmyveins。
`Oh，myGod！’Igasped。`Whatisit？Whatdoesitmean？’
Holmeshadsprungtohisfeet，andIsawhisdark，athleticoutlineatthedoorofthehut，hisshouldersstooping，hisheadthrustforward，hisfacepeeringintothedarkness。
`Hush！’hewhispered。`Hush！’
Thecryhadbeenloudonaccountofitsvehemence，butithadpealedoutfromsomewherefaroffontheshadowyplain。Nowitburstuponourears，nearer，louder，moreurgentthanbefore。
`Whereisit？’Holmeswhispered;andIknewfromthethrillofhisvoicethathe，themanofiron，wasshakentothesoul。`Whereisit，Watson？’
`There，Ithink。’Ipointedintothedarkness。
`No，there！’
Againtheagonizedcrysweptthroughthesilentnight，louderandmuchnearerthanever。Andanewsoundmingledwithit，adeep，mutteredrumble，musicalandyetmenacing，risingandfallinglikethelow，constantmurmurofthesea。
`Thehound！’criedHolmes。`Come，Watson，come！Greatheavens，ifwearetoolate！’
Hehadstartedrunningswiftlyoverthemoor，andIhadfollowedathisheels。Butnowfromsomewhereamongthebrokengroundimmediatelyinfrontofustherecameonelastdespairingyell，andthenadull，heavythud。Wehaltedandlistened。Notanothersoundbroketheheavysilenceofthewindlessnight。
IsawHolmesputhishandtohisforeheadlikeamandistracted。
Hestampedhisfeetupontheground。
`Hehasbeatenus，Watson。Wearetoolate。’
`No，no，surelynot！’
`FoolthatIwastoholdmyhand。Andyou，Watson，seewhatcomesofabandoningyourcharge！But，byHeaven，iftheworsthashappenedwe’llavengehim！’
Blindlyweranthroughthegloom，blunderingagainstboulders，forcingourwaythroughgorsebushes，pantinguphillsandrushingdownslopes，headingalwaysinthedirectionwhencethosedreadfulsoundshadcome。AteveryriseHolmeslookedeagerlyroundhim，buttheshadowswerethickuponthemoor，andnothingmoveduponitsdrearyface。
`Canyouseeanything？’
`Nothing。’
`But，hark，whatisthat？’
Alowmoanhadfallenuponourears。Thereitwasagainuponourleft！Onthatsidearidgeofrocksendedinasheercliffwhichoverlookedastone—strewnslope。Onitsjaggedfacewasspread—eagledsomedark，irregularobject。Aswerantowardsitthevagueoutlinehardenedintoadefiniteshape。Itwasaprostratemanfacedownwardupontheground，theheaddoubledunderhimatahorribleangle，theshouldersroundedandthebodyhunchedtogetherasifintheactofthrowingasomersault。SogrotesquewastheattitudethatIcouldnotfortheinstantrealizethatthatmoanhadbeenthepassingofhissoul。Notawhisper，notarustle，rosenowfromthedarkfigureoverwhichwestooped。Holmeslaidhishanduponhimandhelditupagainwithanexclamationofhorror。Thegleamofthematchwhichhestruckshoneuponhisclottedfingersandupontheghastlypoolwhichwidenedslowlyfromthecrushedskullofthevictim。Anditshoneuponsomethingelsewhichturnedourheartssickandfaintwithinus—thebodyofSirHenryBaskerville！
Therewasnochanceofeitherofusforgettingthatpeculiarruddytweedsuit—theveryonewhichhehadwornonthefirstmorningthatwehadseenhiminBakerStreet。Wecaughttheoneclearglimpseofit，andthenthematchflickeredandwentout，evenasthehopehadgoneoutofoursouls。Holmesgroaned，andhisfaceglimmeredwhitethroughthedarkness。
`Thebrute！thebrute！’Icriedwithclenchedhands。`OhHolmes，Ishallneverforgivemyselfforhavinglefthimtohisfate。’
`Iammoretoblamethanyou，Watson。Inordertohavemycasewellroundedandcomplete，Ihavethrownawaythelifeofmyclient。Itisthegreatestblowwhichhasbefallenmeinmycareer。ButhowcouldIknow—howcouldIknow—thathewouldriskhislifealoneuponthemoorinthefaceofallmywarnings？’
`Thatweshouldhaveheardhisscreams—myGod，thosescreams！
—andyethavebeenunabletosavehim！Whereisthisbruteofahoundwhichdrovehimtohisdeath？Itmaybelurkingamongtheserocksatthisinstant。AndStapleton，whereishe？Heshallanswerforthisdeed。’
`Heshall。Iwillseetothat。Uncleandnephewhavebeenmurdered—theonefrightenedtodeathbytheverysightofabeastwhichhethoughttobesupernatural，theotherdriventohisendinhiswildflighttoescapefromit。Butnowwehavetoprovetheconnectionbetweenthemanandthebeast。Savefromwhatweheard，wecannotevensweartotheexistenceofthelatter，sinceSirHenryhasevidentlydiedfromthefall。But，byheavens，cunningasheis，thefellowshallbeinmypowerbeforeanotherdayispast！’
Westoodwithbitterheartsoneithersideofthemangledbody，overwhelmedbythissuddenandirrevocabledisasterwhichhadbroughtallourlongandwearylabourstosopiteousanend。Thenasthemoonroseweclimbedtothetopoftherocksoverwhichourpoorfriendhadfallen，andfromthesummitwegazedoutovertheshadowymoor，halfsilverandhalfgloom。Faraway，milesoff，inthedirectionofGrimpen，asinglesteadyyellowlightwasshining。ItcouldonlycomefromthelonelyabodeoftheStapletons。WithabittercurseIshookmyfistatitasIgazed。
`Whyshouldwenotseizehimatonce？’
`Ourcaseisnotcomplete。Thefellowiswaryandcunningtothelastdegree。Itisnotwhatweknow，butwhatwecanprove。Ifwemakeonefalsemovethevillainmayescapeusyet。’
`Whatcanwedo？’
`Therewillbeplentyforustodoto—morrow。To—nightwecanonlyperformthelastofficestoourpoorfriend。’
Togetherwemadeourwaydowntheprecipitousslopeandapproachedthebody，blackandclearagainstthesilveredstones。Theagonyofthosecontortedlimbsstruckmewithaspasmofpainandblurredmyeyeswithtears。
`Wemustsendforhelp，Holmes！WecannotcarryhimallthewaytotheHall。Goodheavens，areyoumad？’
Hehadutteredacryandbentoverthebody。Nowhewasdancingandlaughingandwringingmyhand。Couldthisbemystern，self—containedfriend？Thesewerehiddenfires，indeed！
`Abeard！Abeard！Themanhasabeard！’
`Abeard？’
`Itisnotthebaronet—itis—why，itismyneighbour，theconvict！’
Withfeverishhastewehadturnedthebodyover，andthatdrippingbeardwaspointinguptothecold，clearmoon。Therecouldbenodoubtaboutthebeetlingforehead，thesunkenanimaleyes。Itwasindeedthesamefacewhichhadglareduponmeinthelightofthecandlefromovertherock—thefaceofSelden，thecriminal。
Theninaninstantitwasallcleartome。IrememberedhowthebaronethadtoldmethathehadhandedhisoldwardrobetoBarrymore。BarrymorehadpasseditoninordertohelpSeldeninhisescape。Boots，shirt，cap—itwasallSirHenry’s。Thetragedywasstillblackenough，butthismanhadatleastdeserveddeathbythelawsofhiscountry。ItoldHolmeshowthematterstood，myheartbubblingoverwiththankfulnessandjoy。
`Thentheclotheshavebeenthepoordevil’sdeath，’saidhe。
`ItisclearenoughthatthehoundhasbeenlaidonfromsomearticleofSirHenry’s—thebootwhichwasabstractedinthehotel，inallprobability—andsoranthismandown。Thereisoneverysingularthing，however：
HowcameSelden，inthedarkness，toknowthatthehoundwasonhistrail？’
`Heheardhim。’
`Tohearahounduponthemoorwouldnotworkahardmanlikethisconvictintosuchaparoxysmofterrorthathewouldriskrecapturebyscreamingwildlyforhelp。Byhiscrieshemusthaverunalongwayafterheknewtheanimalwasonhistrack。Howdidheknow？’
`Agreatermysterytomeiswhythishound，presumingthatallourconjecturesarecorrect—’
`Ipresumenothing。’
`Well，then，whythishoundshouldbelooseto—night。Isupposethatitdoesnotalwaysrunlooseuponthemoor。StapletonwouldnotletitgounlesshehadreasontothinkthatSirHenrywouldbethere。’
`Mydifficultyisthemoreformidableofthetwo，forIthinkthatweshallveryshortlygetanexplanationofyours，whileminemayremainforeveramystery。Thequestionnowis，whatshallwedowiththispoorwretch’sbody？Wecannotleaveitheretothefoxesandtheravens。’
`Isuggestthatweputitinoneofthehutsuntilwecancommunicatewiththepolice。’
`Exactly。IhavenodoubtthatyouandIcouldcarryitsofar。
Halloa，Watson，what’sthis？It’sthemanhimself，byallthat’swonderfulandaudacious！Notawordtoshowyowsuspicions—notaword，ormyplanscrumbletotheground。’
Afigurewasapproachingusoverthemoor，andIsawthedullredglowofacigar。Themoonshoneuponhim，andIcoulddistinguishthedappershapeandjauntywalkofthenaturalist。Hestoppedwhenhesawus，andthencameonagain。
`Why，Dr。Watson，that’snotyou，isit？YouarethelastmanthatIshouldhaveexpectedtoseeoutonthemooratthistimeofnight。
But，dearme，what’sthis？Somebodyhurt？Not—don’ttellmethatitisourfriendSirHenry！’Hehurriedpastmeandstoopedoverthedeadman。
Iheardasharpintakeofhisbreathandthecigarfellfromhisfingers。
`Who—who’sthis？’hestammered。
`ItisSelden，themanwhoescapedfromPrincetown。’
Stapletonturnedaghastlyfaceuponus，butbyasupremeefforthehadovercomehisamazementandhisdisappointment。HelookedsharplyfromHolmestome。
`Dearme！Whataveryshockingaffair！Howdidhedie？’
`Heappearstohavebrokenhisneckbyfallingovertheserocks。
MyfriendandIwerestrollingonthemoorwhenweheardacry。’
`Iheardacryalso。Thatwaswhatbroughtmeout。IwasuneasyaboutSirHenry。’
`WhyaboutSirHenryinparticular？’Icouldnothelpasking。
`BecauseIhadsuggestedthatheshouldcomeover。WhenhedidnotcomeIwassurprised，andInaturallybecamealarmedforhissafetywhenIheardcriesuponthemoor。Bytheway’—hiseyesdartedagainfrommyfacetoHolmes’s—`didyouhearanythingelsebesidesacry？’
`No，’saidHolmes;`didyou？’
`No。’
`Whatdoyoumean，then？’
`Oh，youknowthestoriesthatthepeasantstellaboutaphantomhound，andsoon。Itissaidtobeheardatnightuponthemoor。Iwaswonderingiftherewereanyevidenceofsuchasoundto—night。’
`Weheardnothingofthekind，’saidI。
`Andwhatisyourtheoryofthispoorfellow’sdeath？’
`Ihavenodoubtthatanxietyandexposurehavedrivenhimoffhishead。Hehasrushedaboutthemoorinacrazystateandeventuallyfallenoverhereandbrokenhisneck。’
`Thatseemsthemostreasonabletheory，’saidStapleton，andhegaveasighwhichItooktoindicatehisrelief。`Whatdoyouthinkaboutit，Mr。SherlockHolmes？’
Myfriendbowedhiscompliments。
`Youarequickatidentification，’saidhe。
`WehavebeenexpectingyouinthesepartssinceDr。Watsoncamedown。Youareintimetoseeatragedy。’
`Yes，indeed。Ihavenodoubtthatmyfriend’sexplanationwillcoverthefacts。IwilltakeanunpleasantremembrancebacktoLondonwithmeto—morrow。’
`Oh，youreturnto—morrow？’
`Thatismyintention。’
`Ihopeyourvisithascastsomelightuponthoseoccurrenceswhichhavepuzzledus？’
Holmesshruggedhisshoulders。
`Onecannotalwayshavethesuccessforwhichonehopes。Aninvestigatorneedsfactsandnotlegendsorrumours。Ithasnotbeenasatisfactorycase。’
Myfriendspokeinhisfrankestandmostunconcernedmanner。Stapletonstilllookedhardathim。Thenheturnedtome。
`Iwouldsuggestcarryingthispoorfellowtomyhouse，butitwouldgivemysistersuchafrightthatIdonotfeeljustifiedindoingit。Ithinkthatifweputsomethingoverhisfacehewillbesafeuntilmorning。’
Andsoitwasarranged。ResistingStapleton’sofferofhospitality，HolmesandIsetofftoBaskervilleHall，leavingthenaturalisttoreturnalone。Lookingbackwesawthefiguremovingslowlyawayoverthebroadmoor，andbehindhimthatoneblacksmudgeonthesilveredslopewhichshowedwherethemanwaslyingwhohadcomesohorriblytohisend。
`We’reatclosegripsatlast，’saidHolmesaswewalkedtogetheracrossthemoor。`Whatanervethefellowhas！Howhepulledhimselftogetherinthefaceofwhatmusthavebeenaparalyzingshockwhenhefoundthatthewrongmanhadfallenavictimtohisplot。ItoldyouinLondon，Watson，andItellyounowagain，thatwehaveneverhadafoemanmoreworthyofoursteel。’
`Iamsorrythathehasseenyou。’
`AndsowasIatfirst。Buttherewasnogettingoutofit。’
`Whateffectdoyouthinkitwillhaveuponhisplansnowthatheknowsyouarehere？’
`Itmaycausehimtobemorecautious，oritmaydrivehimtodesperatemeasuresatonce。Likemostclevercriminals，hemaybetooconfidentinhisownclevernessandimaginethathehascompletelydeceivedus。’
`Whyshouldwenotarresthimatonce？’
`MydearWatson，youwereborntobeamanofaction。Yourinstinctisalwaystodosomethingenergetic。Butsupposing，forargument’ssake，thatwehadhimarrestedto—night，whatonearththebetteroffshouldwebeforthat？Wecouldprovenothingagainsthim。There’sthedevilishcunningofit！Ifhewereactingthroughahumanagentwecouldgetsomeevidence，butifweweretodragthisgreatdogtothelightofdayitwouldnothelpusinputtingaroperoundtheneckofitsmaster。’
`Surelywehaveacase。’
`Notashadowofone—onlysurmiseandconjecture。Weshouldbelaughedoutofcourtifwecamewithsuchastoryandsuchevidence。’
`ThereisSirCharles’sdeath。’
`Founddeadwithoutamarkuponhim。YouandIknowthathediedofsheerfright，andweknowalsowhatfrightenedhimbuthowarewetogettwelvestolidjurymentoknowit？Whatsignsarethereofahound？
Wherearethemarksofitsfangs？OfcourseweknowthatahounddoesnotbiteadeadbodyandthatSirCharleswasdeadbeforeeverthebruteovertookhim。Butwehavetoproveallthis，andwearenotinapositiontodoit。’
`Well，then，to—night？’
`Wearenotmuchbetteroffto—night。Again，therewasnodirectconnectionbetweenthehoundandtheman’sdeath。Weneversawthehound。
Weheardit，butwecouldnotprovethatitwasrunninguponthisman’strail。Thereisacompleteabsenceofmotive。No，mydearfellow;wemustreconcileourselvestothefactthatwehavenocaseatpresent，andthatitisworthourwhiletorunanyriskinordertoestablishone。’
`Andhowdoyouproposetodoso？’
`IhavegreathopesofwhatMrs。LauraLyonsmaydoforuswhenthepositionofaffairsismadecleartoher。AndIhavemyownplanaswell。Sufficientforto—morrowistheevilthereof;butIhopebeforethedayispasttohavetheupperhandatlast。’
Icoulddrawnothingfurtherfromhim，andhewalked，lostinthought，asfarastheBaskervillegates。
`Areyoucomingup？’
`Yes;Iseenoreasonforfurtherconcealment。Butonelastword，Watson。SaynothingofthehoundtoSirHenry。LethimthinkthatSelden’sdeathwasasStapletonwouldhaveusbelieve。Hewillhaveabetternervefortheordealwhichhewillhavetoundergoto—morrow，whenheisengaged，ifIrememberyourreportaright，todinewiththesepeople。’
`AndsoamI。’
`Thenyoumustexcuseyourselfandhemustgoalone。Thatwillbeeasilyarranged。Andnow，ifwearetoolatefordinner，Ithinkthatwearebothreadyforoursuppers。’
[NextChapter][TableofContents]ConanDoyle：TheHoundoftheBaskervilles13[TableofContents]Chapter13FixingtheNetsSirHenrywasmorepleasedthansurprisedtoseeSherlockHolmes，forhehadforsomedaysbeenexpectingthatrecenteventswouldbringhimdownfromLondon。Hedidraisehiseyebrows，however，whenhefoundthatmyfriendhadneitheranyluggagenoranyexplanationsforitsabsence。Betweenuswesoonsuppliedhiswants，andthenoverabelatedsupperweexplainedtothebaronetasmuchofourexperienceasitseemeddesirablethatheshouldknow。ButfirstIhadtheunpleasantdutyofbreakingthenewstoBarrymoreandhiswife。Tohimitmayhavebeenanunmitigatedrelief，butsheweptbitterlyinherapron。Toalltheworldhewasthemanofviolence，halfanimalandhalfdemon;buttoherhealwaysremainedthelittlewilfulboyofherowngirlhood，thechildwhohadclungtoherhand。
Evilindeedisthemanwhohasnotonewomantomournhim。
`I’vebeenmopinginthehousealldaysinceWatsonwentoffinthemorning，’saidthebaronet。`IguessIshouldhavesomecredit，forIhavekeptmypromise。IfIhadn’tswornnottogoaboutaloneImighthavehadamorelivelyevening，forIhadamessagefromStapletonaskingmeoverthere。’
`Ihavenodoubtthatyouwouldhavehadamorelivelyevening，’
saidHolmesdrily。`Bytheway，Idon’tsupposeyouappreciatethatwehavebeenmourningoveryouashavingbrokenyourneck？’
SirHenryopenedhiseyes。`Howwasthat？’
`Thispoorwretchwasdressedinyourclothes。Ifearyourservantwhogavethemtohimmaygetintotroublewiththepolice。’
`Thatisunlikely。Therewasnomarkonanyofthem，asfarasIknow。’
`That’sluckyforhim—infact，it’sluckyforallofyou，sinceyouareallonthewrongsideofthelawinthismatter。Iamnotsurethatasaconscientiousdetectivemyfirstdutyisnottoarrestthewholehousehold。Watson’sreportsaremostincriminatingdocuments。’
`Buthowaboutthecase？’askedthebaronet。`Haveyoumadeanythingoutofthetangle？Idon’tknowthatWatsonandIaremuchthewisersincewecamedown。’
`IthinkthatIshallbeinapositiontomakethesituationrathermorecleartoyoubeforelong。Ithasbeenanexceedinglydifficultandmostcomplicatedbusiness。Thereareseveralpointsuponwhichwestillwantlight—butitiscomingallthesame。’
`We’vehadoneexperience，asWatsonhasnodoubttoldyou。Weheardthehoundonthemoor，soIcanswearthatitisnotallemptysuperstition。
IhadsomethingtodowithdogswhenIwasoutWest，andIknowonewhenIhearone。IfyoucanmuzzlethatoneandputhimonachainI’llbereadytoswearyouarethegreatestdetectiveofalltime。’
`IthinkIwillmuzzlehimandchainhimallrightifyouwillgivemeyourhelp。’
`WhateveryoutellmetodoIwilldo。’
`Verygood;andIwillaskyoualsotodoitblindly，withoutalwaysaskingthereason。’
`Justasyoulike。’
`IfyouwilldothisIthinkthechancesarethatourlittleproblemwillsoonbesolved。Ihavenodoubt’
Hestoppedsuddenlyandstaredfixedlyupovermyheadintotheair。Thelampbeatuponhisface，andsointentwasitandsostillthatitmighthavebeenthatofaclear—cutclassicalstatue，apersonificationofalertnessandexpectation。
`Whatisit？’webothcried。
Icouldseeashelookeddownthathewasrepressingsomeinternalemotion。
Hisfeatureswerestillcomposed，buthiseyesshonewithamusedexultation。
`Excusetheadmirationofaconnoisseur，’saidheashewavedhishandtowardsthelineofportraitswhichcoveredtheoppositewall。
`Watsonwon’tallowthatIknowanythingofartbutthatismerejealousybecauseourviewsuponthesubjectdiffer。Now，theseareareallyveryfineseriesofportraits。’
`Well，I’mgladtohearyousayso，’saidSirHenry，glancingwithsomesurpriseatmyfriend。`Idon’tpretendtoknowmuchaboutthesethings，andI’dbeabetterjudgeofahorseorasteerthanofapicture。
Ididn’tknowthatyoufoundtimeforsuchthings。’
`IknowwhatisgoodwhenIseeit，andIseeitnow。That’saKneller，I’llswear，thatladyinthebluesilkoveryonder，andthestoutgentlemanwiththewigoughttobeaReynolds。Theyareallfamilyportraits，Ipresume？’
`Everyone。’
`Doyouknowthenames？’
`Barrymorehasbeencoachingmeinthem，andIthinkIcansaymylessonsfairlywell。’
`Whoisthegentlemanwiththetelescope？’
`ThatisRear—AdmiralBaskerville，whoservedunderRodneyintheWestIndies。ThemanwiththebluecoatandtherollofpaperisSirWilliamBaskerville，whowasChairmanofCommitteesoftheHouseofCommonsunderPitt。’
`AndthisCavalieroppositetome—theonewiththeblackvelvetandthelace？’
`Ah，youhavearighttoknowabouthim。Thatisthecauseofallthemischief，thewickedHugo，whostartedtheHoundoftheBaskervilles。
We’renotlikelytoforgethim。’
Igazedwithinterestandsomesurpriseupontheportrait。
`Dearme！’saidHolmes，`heseemsaquiet，meek—manneredmanenough，butIdaresaythattherewasalurkingdevilinhiseyes。Ihadpicturedhimasamorerobustandruffianlyperson。’
`There’snodoubtabouttheauthenticity，forthenameandthedate，1647，areonthebackofthecanvas。’
Holmessaidlittlemore，butthepictureoftheoldroystererseemedtohaveafascinationforhim，andhiseyeswerecontinuallyfixeduponitduringsupper。Itwasnotuntillater，whenSirHenryhadgonetohisroom，thatIwasabletofollowthetrendofhisthoughts。Heledmebackintothebanqueting—hall，hisbedroomcandleinhishand，andhehelditupagainstthetime—stainedportraitonthewall。
`Doyouseeanythingthere？’
Ilookedatthebroadplumedhat，thecurlinglove—locks，thewhitelacecollar，andthestraight，severefacewhichwasframedbetweenthem。Itwasnotabrutalcountenance，butitwasprimhard，andstern，withafirm—set，thin—lippedmouth，andacoldlyintoleranteye。
`Isitlikeanyoneyouknow？’
`ThereissomethingofSirHenryaboutthejaw。’
`Justasuggestion，perhaps。Butwaitaninstant！’Hestooduponachair，and，holdingupthelightinhislefthand，hecurvedhisrightarmoverthebroadhatandroundthelongringlets。
`Goodheavens！’Icriedinamazement。
ThefaceofStapletonhadsprungoutofthecanvas。
`Ha，youseeitnow。Myeyeshavebeentrainedtoexaminefacesandnottheirtrimmings。Itisthefirstqualityofacriminalinvestigatorthatheshouldseethroughadisguise。’
`Butthisismarvellous。Itmightbehisportrait。’
`Yes，itisaninterestinginstanceofathrowback，whichappearstobebothphysicalandspiritual。Astudyoffamilyportraitsisenoughtoconvertamantothedoctrineofreincarnation。ThefellowisaBaskerville—thatisevident。’
`Withdesignsuponthesuccession。’
`Exactly。Thischanceofthepicturehassupplieduswithoneofourmostobviousmissinglinks。Wehavehim，Watson，wehavehim，andIdareswearthatbeforeto—morrownighthewillbeflutteringinournetashelplessasoneofhisownbutterflies。Apin，acork，andacard，andweaddhimtotheBakerStreetcollection！’Heburstintooneofhisrarefitsoflaughterasheturnedawayfromthepicture。Ihavenotheardhimlaughoften，andithasalwaysbodedilltosomebody。
Iwasupbetimesinthemorning，butHolmeswasafootearlierstill，forIsawhimasIdressed，comingupthedrive。
`Yes，weshouldhaveafulldayto—day，’heremarked，andherubbedhishandswiththejoyofaction。`Thenetsareallinplace，andthedragisabouttobegin。We’llknowbeforethedayisoutwhetherwehavecaughtourbig，leanjawedpike，orwhetherhehasgotthroughthemeshes。’
`Haveyoubeenonthemooralready？’
`IhavesentareportfromGrimpentoPrincetownastothedeathofSelden。
IthinkIcanpromisethatnoneofyouwillbetroubledinthematter。AndIhavealsocommunicatedwithmyfaithfulCartwright，whowouldcertainlyhavepinedawayatthedoorofmyhut，asadogdoesathismaster’sgrave，ifIhadnotsethismindatrestaboutmysafety。’
`Whatisthenextmove？’
`ToseeSirHenry。Ah，hereheis！’
`Good—morning，Holmes，’saidthebaronet。`Youlooklikeageneralwhoisplanningabattlewithhischiefofthestaff。’
`Thatistheexactsituation。Watsonwasaskingfororders。’
`AndsodoI。’
`Verygood。Youareengaged，asIunderstand，todinewithourfriendstheStapletonsto—night。’
`Ihopethatyouwillcomealso。Theyareveryhospitablepeople，andIamsurethattheywouldbeverygladtoseeyou。’
`IfearthatWatsonandImustgotoLondon。’
`ToLondon？’
`Yes，Ithinkthatweshouldbemoreusefulthereatthepresentjuncture。’
Thebaronet’sfaceperceptiblylengthened。
`Ihopedthatyouweregoingtoseemethroughthisbusiness。