May 27, 2025 • 43 mins
In the eerie Baskerville Hall, a baronet is found dead under mysterious circumstances. Could his death be the consequence of a centuries-old family curse, believed to be carried out by a supernatural hound? Join the iconic detective duo, Holmes and Watson, as they delve into the enigmatic death of Sir Charles Baskerville, racing against time to protect the new baronet from a similar ominous fate.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter nine of The Hound of the Baskervilles. This is
a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Read by Richard Ryman, The Light.
Speaker 2 (00:21):
Upon the Moor, Second Report of Doctor Watson, Baskerville Hall,
October fifteenth. My dear holmes, 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
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and fast upon us. In my last report I ended
upon my top note, with Barrymore at the window. And
now I have quite a budget already, which will, unless
I am much mistaken, considerably surprise you. Things. I've taken
a turn which I could not have anticipated. In some
ways they have within the last forty eight hours become
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much clearer, and in some ways they have become more complicated.
But I will tell you all, and you shall judge
for yourself. Before breakfast on the morning following my adventure,
I went down the corridor and examined the room in
which Barrymore had been on the night before. The western
window through which he had stared so intently. Has I
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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 Barrymore,
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since only this window would serve the purpose, must have
been looking out for something or so upon the moor.
The night was very dark, so that I can hardly
imagine how he could have hoped to see anyone. It
struck me that it was possible that some love intrigue
was on foot that would have accounted for his stealthy movements,
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and also for the uneasiness of his wife. The man
is a striking looking fellow, very well equipped to steal
the heart of a country girl, so that this theory
seemed to have something to support it. That opening of
the door, which I had heard after I had returned
to my room, might mean that he had gone out
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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 were unfounded. But whatever the true explanation of Barrymore's
movements might be, I felt that the responsibility of keeping
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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 expected. I knew that Barrymore walked about nights,
and I had a mind to speak to him about.
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Said he, two or three times I have heard his
steps in the passage, coming and going just about the
hour you name. Perhaps then he pays a visit every
night to that particular window, I suggested, perhaps he does.
If so, he should be able to shadow him and
see what it is that he is after. I wonder
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what your friend Holmes would do if he were here.
I believe that he would do exactly what you now suggest,
said I. He would follow Barrymore and see what he did.
Then we shall do it together. But surely he would
hear us. The man is rather deaf, and in any
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case we must take our chance of that. We'll set
up in my room to night and wait until he passes.
Sir Henry rubbed his hands with pleasure, and it was
evident that he hailed the adventure as a relief to
his somewhat quiet life upon the moor. The Baronet has
been in communication with the architect who prepared the plans
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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 furnitures up from Plymouth, and
it is evident that our friend has large ideas and
means to spare no pains or expense to restore the
grandeur of his family. When the house is renovated and refurnished,
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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 neighbor, Miss Stapleton.
And yet the course of true love does not run
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quite as smoothly as one would under the circumstances expect.
To day, 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.
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As a matter of course, I did the same. What
are you coming, Watson, he asked, looking at me in
a curious way. That depends on whether you are going
on the moor, said I, yes, I am, well, you
know what my instructions are. I am sorry to intrude,
but who heard how earnestly Holmes insisted that I should
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not leave you, and especially that you should not go
alone upon the moon. Sir Henry put his hand upon
my shoulder with a pleasant smile. My dear fellow, said
he Holmes, with all his wisdom, did not foresee some
things which have happened since I have been on the moor.
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You understand me. I am sure that you are the
last man in the world who would wish to be
a spoil sport. I must go out alone. It put
me in a most awkward position. I was at a
loss what to say or what to do. And before
I had made up my mind, he picked up his
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cane and was gone. But when I came to think
the matter over. My conscience reproached me bitterly for having,
on any pretext allowed him to go out of my sight.
I imagined what my feelings would be if I had
to return to you and to confess that some misfortune
had occurred through my disregard for your instructions. I assure
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you my cheeks flushed at the very thought. It might
not even now be too late to overtake him. So
I set off at once in the direction of meryfit House.
I hurried along the road at the top of my speed,
without seeing anything of Sir Henry, until I came to
the point where the moor path branches off. There, fearing
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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
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understanding between them, and that they had met by appointment.
They were walking slowly along in deep conversation, 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 descent. I stood among the rocks, watching them,
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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
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him from the hill, and to clear my conscience by
confessing to him afterwards what I had done. It is
true that if any sudden danger had threatened him, I
was too far away to be of use. And yet
I am sure that you will agree with me that
the position was very difficult, and that there was nothing
more which I could do. Our friend, Sir Henry, and
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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
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broken ground. It was Stapleton with his butterfly net. He
was very much closer to the pair than I was,
and he appeared to be moving in their direction. At
this instant, Sir Henry suddenly drew Miss Stapleton to his side.
His arm was round her, but it seemed to me
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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
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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.
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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 displeasure.
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The baronet stood for a minute looking after them, and
then he walked slowly back the way that he had come,
his head hanging the very picture of dejection. What all
this meant I could not imagine, but I was deeply
ashamed to have witnessed so intimate a scene without my
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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 the one who was
at his WIT's end. What to do? Hallo Watson, where
have you dropped from? Said he? You don't mean to
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say that you came after me in spite of all.
I explained everything to him, how I had found it
impossible to remain behind, how I had followed him, and
how I had witnessed all that had occurred. For an
instant his eyes blazed at me, but my frankness disarmed
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his anger, and he broke at last into a rather
rueful laugh. He who would have thought the middle of
that prairie a fairly safe place for a man to
be private, said he. But by thunder the old countryside
seems to have been out to see me do my wooing,
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and a mighty poor wooing at that Where had you
engaged a seat? I was on that hill quite in
the back row, hum. But her brother was well up
to the front. Did you see him come out on us? Yes?
I did. Did he ever strike you as being crazy?
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This brother of hers? I can't say that he ever did.
I dare say not. I always thought insane enough until
to day. But you can take it from me that
either he or I ought to be in a strait jacket.
What's the matter with me anyhow? You've lived near me
for some weeks? Watson? Tell me straight now? Is there
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anything that would prevent me from making a good husband
to a woman that I I should say not? He
can't object to my worldly position, so it must be
myself that he has this down on. What has he
against me? I never hurt man or a woman in
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my life that I know of, and yet he would
not so much as let me touch the tips of
her fingers? Did he say so that and a deal more.
I tell you, Watson, I've only known her these few weeks,
but from the first I just felt that she was
made for me, and she too. She was happy when
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she was with me, and that I'll swear there's a
light in the 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
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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.
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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
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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. I told
him that my feelings towards his sister were such as
I was not ashamed of, and that I hoped that
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she might honor 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 considering that she was standing by.
So it ended by his going off with her, as
you saw. And here am I as badly puzzled a
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man as any in this count. Just tell me what
it all means, Wasson, and I'll owe you more than
ever I can hope to pay. I tried one or
two explanations, but indeed I was completely puzzled myself. Our
friends titled his fortune, his age, his character, and his
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appearance are all in his favor. And I know nothing
against him, unless it be this dark fate which runs
in his family, that his advances should be rejected so
brusquely without any reference to the lady's own wishes, and
that the lady should accept the situation without protest is
very amazing. However, our conjectures were set at rest by
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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
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at marypitt House next Friday as a sign of it.
I don't say now that he isn't a crazy man,
said Sir Henry. I can't forget to 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. Did he give any explanation
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of his conduct. 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
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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
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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 rather it was to a neighbor like myself than
to anyone else. But in any case, it was a
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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 the
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matter rests. So there's one of our small mysteries cleared up.
It is something to have touched bottom anywhere in this
bog in which we are floundering. We now know why
Stapleton looked with disfavor upon his sister's suita, even when
that suitor was so eligible a one as Sir Henry.
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And now I pass on to another thread which I
have extricated out of the tangled skein the mystery of
the sobs, in the night of the tear stained face
of Missus 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
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an agent, that you do not regret the confidence which
you showed in me when you sent me down. All
these things have by one night's work been thoroughly cleared.
I have said by one night's work, but in truth
it was by two nights work. For on the first
we drew entirely blank. I sat up with Sir Henry
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in his rooms until nearly three o'clock in the morning,
but no sound of any sort did we hear, except
a 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
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lamp and sat smoking cigarettes without making the least sound.
It was incredible how slowly the hours crawled by. 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.
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One struck and two, and we had almost for the
second time given it up in despair, when in an
instant we both sat both upright in our chairs, with
all our weary senses keenly on the alert. Once more,
we had heard the creak of a step in the passage.
Very stealthily, we heard it pass along until it died
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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 until we had come
into the other wing. We were just in time to
catch a glimpse of the tall, blackbearded figure, his shoulders
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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
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to put our whole weight upon it. We had taken
the precaution of leaving our boots behind us, But even
so the old boars snapped and creaked beneath our tread.
Sometimes it seemed impossible that he should fail to hear
our approach. However, the man is fortunately rather deaf, and
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he was entirely preoccupied in that which she 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 him two nights before. We had arranged
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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.
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His dark eyes glaring out of the white mask of
his face, were full of horror and astonishment. As he
gazed from Sir Henry to me what are you doing here, Barrymore? Nothing, sir.
His agitation was so great that he could hardly speak,
and the shadows sprang up and down from the shaking
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of his candle. It was the window, sir. I'd go
round at night to see that they are fastened on
the second floor. Yes, sir, all windows. 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.
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Come now, no lies, What were you doing at that window?
The fellow looked at us in a helpless way, and
he wrung his hands together, like one who was in
the last extremity of doubt and misery. I was doing
no harm, sir. I was holding a candle to the window.
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And why were you holding a candle to the window.
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.
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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
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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 center of the black square
framed by the window. There it is, I cried, No, no, sir,
it is nothing, nothing at all. The butler broke in.
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I assure you, sir, move your light across the window. Watson, cried.
The baronet say, the other moves also, Now, you rascal,
do you deny that it is a signal? Come speak up?
Who is your confederate out yonder? And what is this
conspiracy that going on the man's face became openly defiant.
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It is my business and not yours. I will not tell.
Then you leave my employment right away, very good, sir.
If I must, I must, and you go in disgrace
by thunder. You may well be ashamed of yourself. Your
family has lived with mine for over a hundred years
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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 missus barrymore
paler and more horror struck than her husband, was standing
at the door. Her bulky figure in a shawl and
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skirt might have been comic were it not for the
intensity of feeling upon her face. We have to go, Eliza,
this is the end of it. You can pack our things,
said the butler. Oh John, John, have I brought you
to this? It is my doing, Sir, Henry all mine.
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He has done nothing except for my sake. And because
I asked him speak out. Then what does it mean?
My unhappy brother is starving on the moor. We cannot
let him perish at our very gates. The light is
a signal to him that food is ready for him,
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and his light out yonder is to show the spot
to which to bring it. Then your brother is the
escaped convict, Sir Selden, the criminal. That's the truth, sir,
said Barrymore. I said that it was not my secret,
and that I could not tell it to you. But
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now you have heard it, and you will see that
if there was a 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 same blood as
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one of the most notorious criminals in the country. Yes, sir,
my name was Seldom, and he is my younger brother.
We humored 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,
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as he grew older, he met wicked companions, and the
devil entered into him, until he broke my mother's heart
and dragged our name in the dirt. From crime to
crime he sank lower and lower, until it is only
the mercy of God which has snatched him from the scaffold.
But to me, sir, he was always the little curly
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headed boy that I had nursed and played with as
an elder sister would That was why he broke prison, Sir,
he knew that I was here and that we could
not refuse to help him. When he dragged himself here
one night, weary and starving, with the warders hard at
his heels, what could we do. We took him in
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and fed him and cared for him. Then you returned, Sir,
and my brother thought he would be safer on the
more 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,
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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,
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but with me, for whose sake he has done all
that he has. The woman's words came with an intense
earnestness which carried conviction with them. Is this true? Barrymore, Yes, sir,
Henry every word of it. Well, I cannot blame you
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for standing by your own wife. Forget what I have said.
Go to your room, you two, and we shall talk
further about this matter. In the morning, when they were gone,
we looked out of the 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
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still glowed that one tiny point of yellow light. I wonder,
he dares, said, Sir Henry, it may be so placed
as to be only visible from here. Very likely. How
far do you think it is out by the cleft tour?
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I think, hm, not more than a mile or two off,
hardly that well, it cannot be far if barrymore had
to carry out the food to it, and he is
waiting this villain beside that candle. By thunder, Watson, I
am going out to take that man. The same thought
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had crossed my own mind. It was not as if
the Barrymorse 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
neither pity nor excuse. We were only doing our duty
and taking this chance of putting him back where he
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could do no harm. With his brute, full and violent, Nietzsche,
others would have to pay the price if we held
our hands any night, For example, our neighbors, the Stapletons,
might be attacked by him. And it may have been
the thought of this which made Sir Henry so keen
upon the adventure. I will come, said I. Then get
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your revolver and put on your boots. The sooner we start,
the better, as the fellow may put out his light
and be off. In five minutes we were outside the
door 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
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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, thin rain began to fall.
The light still burned steadily in front. Are you armed,
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i asked, I have a hunting crop. We must close
in on him rapidly, for he is said to be
a desperate fellow. We shall take him by surprise and
have him at our mercy before he can resist, I say, Watson,
said the baronet. What would Holmes say to this? How
about that hour of darkness in which the power of
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evil is exalted? As if in an 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 Grimp and Maya. It came
with the wind through the silence of the night, a long,
deep mutter, then a rising howl, and then the sad moan,
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in which it died away. Again and again it sounded,
the whole air throbbing with it, strident wild in Menacene.
The baronet caught my sleeve, and his face glimmered white
through the darkness. My god, what's that, Watson? I don't know.
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It's a sound they have on the moor. I heard
it once before it died away, and an absolute silence
closed in upon us. We stood straining our ears, but
nothing came, Watson, said the baronet. It was the cry
of a hound. My blood bean cold in my veins,
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for there was a break in his voice which told
of the sudden horror which had seized him. What do
they call this sound? He asked, who the folk on
the countryside. Oh, they are ignorant people. Why should you
mind what they tell me? Watson? What do they say
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of it? I hesitated, but could not escape the question.
They say it is the cry of the hound of
the Baskervilles. He groaned and was silent for a few moments.
A hound, it was, he said at last. But it
seemed to come from miles away, over yonder. I think
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it was hard to say whence it came. It rose
and fell with the wind. Isn't that the direction of
the great grimpen Mire? Yes? It is, well, it was
up there. Come now, Watson. Don't you think yourself that
it was the cry of a hound. I am not
a child. You need not fear to speak the truth.
(34:51):
Stapleton was with me when I heard it last. He
said that it might be the call of a strange bird. No, no,
it was a My God, can there be some truth
in all these stories? Is it possible that I am
really in danger from so dark a cause? You don't
(35:11):
believe it? To you, Watson? No?
Speaker 1 (35:14):
No?
Speaker 2 (35:15):
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.
(35:39):
Feel my hand, it was as cold as a block
of marble. You'll be all right tomorrow. I don't think
i'll get that cry out of my head. What do
you advise that we do? Now? Shall we turn back? No,
by thunder. We have come out to get our man,
(36:00):
and we will do it. We after the convict and
a hell hound as lightly 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
(36:23):
distance of a light upon a pitch dark night. And
sometimes the glimmer seemed to be far away upon the horizon.
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
(36:45):
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,
(37:07):
just the one straight yellow flame and the gleam of
the rock on each side of it. What shall we
do now, whispered Sir Henry. Wait here, he must be
near his light. Let us see if we can get
a glimpse of him. The words were hardly out of
my mouth when we both saw him. Over the rocks.
In the crevice of which the candle burned, there was
(37:30):
thrust out an evil yellow face, a terrible animal face,
all seamed and scored with vile passions, foul with maya,
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 hill sides. The
(37:50):
light beneath him was reflected in his small, cunning eyes,
which peered fiercely to right and left through the darkness,
like a crafty and haveage animal who has heard the
steps of the hunters. Something had evidently aroused his suspicions.
It may have been that Barrymore had some private signal
which we had neglected to give, or the fellow may
(38:13):
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,
(38:34):
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
(38:55):
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.
(39:16):
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
(39:36):
the space between us grew ever wider. Finally we stopped
and sat, panting on two rocks while we watched him
disappearing in the distance. And it was at this moment
that there occurred a most strange and unexpected thing. We
had risen from our rocks and were turning to go home,
(39:58):
having abandoned the hopeless chase. The moon was low upon
the right, and the jagged pinnacle of a granite tor
stood up against the low 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 tour.
(40:21):
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
(40:42):
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
(41:03):
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 trace of that silent and motionless figure.
I wished to go in that direction and to search
(41:25):
the tour, 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 tour, and could not feel the
thrill which his strange presence and his commanding attitude had
(41:48):
given to me. A warder, no doubt, said he, The
moor has been thick with them since this fellow escaped. Well,
perhaps his explanation may be the right one one, but
I should like to have some further proof of it.
To day we mean to communicate to the Princetown people
where they should look for their missing man. But it
(42:10):
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
(42:31):
have all the facts and leave you to select for
yourself those which will be of most service to you
in helping you to your conclusions. We are certainly making
some progress so far as the Barrymores go. We have
found the motive of their actions, and that has cleared
up the situation very much. But the more with its
(42:53):
mysteries and its strange inhabitants remains 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
(43:14):
the next few days. End of chapter nine,
Chapter nine of The Hound of the Baskervilles. This is
a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Read by Richard Ryman, The Light.
Speaker 2 (00:21):
Upon the Moor, Second Report of Doctor Watson, Baskerville Hall,
October fifteenth. My dear holmes, 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
(00:44):
and fast upon us. In my last report I ended
upon my top note, with Barrymore at the window. And
now I have quite a budget already, which will, unless
I am much mistaken, considerably surprise you. Things. I've taken
a turn which I could not have anticipated. In some
ways they have within the last forty eight hours become
(01:07):
much clearer, and in some ways they have become more complicated.
But I will tell you all, and you shall judge
for yourself. Before breakfast on the morning following my adventure,
I went down the corridor and examined the room in
which Barrymore had been on the night before. The western
window through which he had stared so intently. Has I
(01:30):
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 Barrymore,
(01:54):
since only this window would serve the purpose, must have
been looking out for something or so upon the moor.
The night was very dark, so that I can hardly
imagine how he could have hoped to see anyone. It
struck me that it was possible that some love intrigue
was on foot that would have accounted for his stealthy movements,
(02:16):
and also for the uneasiness of his wife. The man
is a striking looking fellow, very well equipped to steal
the heart of a country girl, so that this theory
seemed to have something to support it. That opening of
the door, which I had heard after I had returned
to my room, might mean that he had gone out
(02:37):
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 were unfounded. But whatever the true explanation of Barrymore's
movements might be, I felt that the responsibility of keeping
(02:57):
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 expected. I knew that Barrymore walked about nights,
and I had a mind to speak to him about.
(03:20):
Said he, two or three times I have heard his
steps in the passage, coming and going just about the
hour you name. Perhaps then he pays a visit every
night to that particular window, I suggested, perhaps he does.
If so, he should be able to shadow him and
see what it is that he is after. I wonder
(03:43):
what your friend Holmes would do if he were here.
I believe that he would do exactly what you now suggest,
said I. He would follow Barrymore and see what he did.
Then we shall do it together. But surely he would
hear us. The man is rather deaf, and in any
(04:03):
case we must take our chance of that. We'll set
up in my room to night and wait until he passes.
Sir Henry rubbed his hands with pleasure, and it was
evident that he hailed the adventure as a relief to
his somewhat quiet life upon the moor. The Baronet has
been in communication with the architect who prepared the plans
(04:24):
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 furnitures up from Plymouth, and
it is evident that our friend has large ideas and
means to spare no pains or expense to restore the
grandeur of his family. When the house is renovated and refurnished,
(04:49):
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 neighbor, Miss Stapleton.
And yet the course of true love does not run
(05:11):
quite as smoothly as one would under the circumstances expect.
To day, 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.
(05:33):
As a matter of course, I did the same. What
are you coming, Watson, he asked, looking at me in
a curious way. That depends on whether you are going
on the moor, said I, yes, I am, well, you
know what my instructions are. I am sorry to intrude,
but who heard how earnestly Holmes insisted that I should
(05:56):
not leave you, and especially that you should not go
alone upon the moon. Sir Henry put his hand upon
my shoulder with a pleasant smile. My dear fellow, said
he Holmes, with all his wisdom, did not foresee some
things which have happened since I have been on the moor.
(06:18):
You understand me. I am sure that you are the
last man in the world who would wish to be
a spoil sport. I must go out alone. It put
me in a most awkward position. I was at a
loss what to say or what to do. And before
I had made up my mind, he picked up his
(06:39):
cane and was gone. But when I came to think
the matter over. My conscience reproached me bitterly for having,
on any pretext allowed him to go out of my sight.
I imagined what my feelings would be if I had
to return to you and to confess that some misfortune
had occurred through my disregard for your instructions. I assure
(07:02):
you my cheeks flushed at the very thought. It might
not even now be too late to overtake him. So
I set off at once in the direction of meryfit House.
I hurried along the road at the top of my speed,
without seeing anything of Sir Henry, until I came to
the point where the moor path branches off. There, fearing
(07:23):
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
(07:46):
understanding between them, and that they had met by appointment.
They were walking slowly along in deep conversation, 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 descent. I stood among the rocks, watching them,
(08:10):
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
(08:32):
him from the hill, and to clear my conscience by
confessing to him afterwards what I had done. It is
true that if any sudden danger had threatened him, I
was too far away to be of use. And yet
I am sure that you will agree with me that
the position was very difficult, and that there was nothing
more which I could do. Our friend, Sir Henry, and
(08:56):
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
(09:17):
broken ground. It was Stapleton with his butterfly net. He
was very much closer to the pair than I was,
and he appeared to be moving in their direction. At
this instant, Sir Henry suddenly drew Miss Stapleton to his side.
His arm was round her, but it seemed to me
(09:38):
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
(10:02):
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.
(10:22):
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 displeasure.
(10:47):
The baronet stood for a minute looking after them, and
then he walked slowly back the way that he had come,
his head hanging the very picture of dejection. What all
this meant I could not imagine, but I was deeply
ashamed to have witnessed so intimate a scene without my
(11:08):
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 the one who was
at his WIT's end. What to do? Hallo Watson, where
have you dropped from? Said he? You don't mean to
(11:29):
say that you came after me in spite of all.
I explained everything to him, how I had found it
impossible to remain behind, how I had followed him, and
how I had witnessed all that had occurred. For an
instant his eyes blazed at me, but my frankness disarmed
(11:50):
his anger, and he broke at last into a rather
rueful laugh. He who would have thought the middle of
that prairie a fairly safe place for a man to
be private, said he. But by thunder the old countryside
seems to have been out to see me do my wooing,
(12:11):
and a mighty poor wooing at that Where had you
engaged a seat? I was on that hill quite in
the back row, hum. But her brother was well up
to the front. Did you see him come out on us? Yes?
I did. Did he ever strike you as being crazy?
(12:32):
This brother of hers? I can't say that he ever did.
I dare say not. I always thought insane enough until
to day. But you can take it from me that
either he or I ought to be in a strait jacket.
What's the matter with me anyhow? You've lived near me
for some weeks? Watson? Tell me straight now? Is there
(12:54):
anything that would prevent me from making a good husband
to a woman that I I should say not? He
can't object to my worldly position, so it must be
myself that he has this down on. What has he
against me? I never hurt man or a woman in
(13:15):
my life that I know of, and yet he would
not so much as let me touch the tips of
her fingers? Did he say so that and a deal more.
I tell you, Watson, I've only known her these few weeks,
but from the first I just felt that she was
made for me, and she too. She was happy when
(13:38):
she was with me, and that I'll swear there's a
light in the 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
(14:00):
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.
(14:22):
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
(14:45):
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. I told
him that my feelings towards his sister were such as
I was not ashamed of, and that I hoped that
(15:05):
she might honor 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 considering that she was standing by.
So it ended by his going off with her, as
you saw. And here am I as badly puzzled a
(15:25):
man as any in this count. Just tell me what
it all means, Wasson, and I'll owe you more than
ever I can hope to pay. I tried one or
two explanations, but indeed I was completely puzzled myself. Our
friends titled his fortune, his age, his character, and his
(15:47):
appearance are all in his favor. And I know nothing
against him, unless it be this dark fate which runs
in his family, that his advances should be rejected so
brusquely without any reference to the lady's own wishes, and
that the lady should accept the situation without protest is
very amazing. However, our conjectures were set at rest by
(16:10):
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
(16:31):
at marypitt House next Friday as a sign of it.
I don't say now that he isn't a crazy man,
said Sir Henry. I can't forget to 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. Did he give any explanation
(16:52):
of his conduct. 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
(17:12):
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
(17:36):
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 rather it was to a neighbor like myself than
to anyone else. But in any case, it was a
(17:56):
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 the
(18:19):
matter rests. So there's one of our small mysteries cleared up.
It is something to have touched bottom anywhere in this
bog in which we are floundering. We now know why
Stapleton looked with disfavor upon his sister's suita, even when
that suitor was so eligible a one as Sir Henry.
(18:41):
And now I pass on to another thread which I
have extricated out of the tangled skein the mystery of
the sobs, in the night of the tear stained face
of Missus 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
(19:04):
an agent, that you do not regret the confidence which
you showed in me when you sent me down. All
these things have by one night's work been thoroughly cleared.
I have said by one night's work, but in truth
it was by two nights work. For on the first
we drew entirely blank. I sat up with Sir Henry
(19:27):
in his rooms until nearly three o'clock in the morning,
but no sound of any sort did we hear, except
a 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
(19:50):
lamp and sat smoking cigarettes without making the least sound.
It was incredible how slowly the hours crawled by. 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.
(20:10):
One struck and two, and we had almost for the
second time given it up in despair, when in an
instant we both sat both upright in our chairs, with
all our weary senses keenly on the alert. Once more,
we had heard the creak of a step in the passage.
Very stealthily, we heard it pass along until it died
(20:34):
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 until we had come
into the other wing. We were just in time to
catch a glimpse of the tall, blackbearded figure, his shoulders
(20:58):
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
(21:18):
to put our whole weight upon it. We had taken
the precaution of leaving our boots behind us, But even
so the old boars snapped and creaked beneath our tread.
Sometimes it seemed impossible that he should fail to hear
our approach. However, the man is fortunately rather deaf, and
(21:41):
he was entirely preoccupied in that which she 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 him two nights before. We had arranged
(22:03):
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.
(22:24):
His dark eyes glaring out of the white mask of
his face, were full of horror and astonishment. As he
gazed from Sir Henry to me what are you doing here, Barrymore? Nothing, sir.
His agitation was so great that he could hardly speak,
and the shadows sprang up and down from the shaking
(22:46):
of his candle. It was the window, sir. I'd go
round at night to see that they are fastened on
the second floor. Yes, sir, all windows. 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.
(23:08):
Come now, no lies, What were you doing at that window?
The fellow looked at us in a helpless way, and
he wrung his hands together, like one who was in
the last extremity of doubt and misery. I was doing
no harm, sir. I was holding a candle to the window.
(23:29):
And why were you holding a candle to the window.
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.
(23:53):
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
(24:16):
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 center of the black square
framed by the window. There it is, I cried, No, no, sir,
it is nothing, nothing at all. The butler broke in.
(24:40):
I assure you, sir, move your light across the window. Watson, cried.
The baronet say, the other moves also, Now, you rascal,
do you deny that it is a signal? Come speak up?
Who is your confederate out yonder? And what is this
conspiracy that going on the man's face became openly defiant.
(25:06):
It is my business and not yours. I will not tell.
Then you leave my employment right away, very good, sir.
If I must, I must, and you go in disgrace
by thunder. You may well be ashamed of yourself. Your
family has lived with mine for over a hundred years
(25:28):
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 missus barrymore
paler and more horror struck than her husband, was standing
at the door. Her bulky figure in a shawl and
(25:51):
skirt might have been comic were it not for the
intensity of feeling upon her face. We have to go, Eliza,
this is the end of it. You can pack our things,
said the butler. Oh John, John, have I brought you
to this? It is my doing, Sir, Henry all mine.
(26:13):
He has done nothing except for my sake. And because
I asked him speak out. Then what does it mean?
My unhappy brother is starving on the moor. We cannot
let him perish at our very gates. The light is
a signal to him that food is ready for him,
(26:35):
and his light out yonder is to show the spot
to which to bring it. Then your brother is the
escaped convict, Sir Selden, the criminal. That's the truth, sir,
said Barrymore. I said that it was not my secret,
and that I could not tell it to you. But
(26:56):
now you have heard it, and you will see that
if there was a 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 same blood as
(27:20):
one of the most notorious criminals in the country. Yes, sir,
my name was Seldom, and he is my younger brother.
We humored 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,
(27:43):
as he grew older, he met wicked companions, and the
devil entered into him, until he broke my mother's heart
and dragged our name in the dirt. From crime to
crime he sank lower and lower, until it is only
the mercy of God which has snatched him from the scaffold.
But to me, sir, he was always the little curly
(28:05):
headed boy that I had nursed and played with as
an elder sister would That was why he broke prison, Sir,
he knew that I was here and that we could
not refuse to help him. When he dragged himself here
one night, weary and starving, with the warders hard at
his heels, what could we do. We took him in
(28:28):
and fed him and cared for him. Then you returned, Sir,
and my brother thought he would be safer on the
more 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,
(28:48):
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,
(29:09):
but with me, for whose sake he has done all
that he has. The woman's words came with an intense
earnestness which carried conviction with them. Is this true? Barrymore, Yes, sir,
Henry every word of it. Well, I cannot blame you
(29:32):
for standing by your own wife. Forget what I have said.
Go to your room, you two, and we shall talk
further about this matter. In the morning, when they were gone,
we looked out of the 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
(29:54):
still glowed that one tiny point of yellow light. I wonder,
he dares, said, Sir Henry, it may be so placed
as to be only visible from here. Very likely. How
far do you think it is out by the cleft tour?
(30:14):
I think, hm, not more than a mile or two off,
hardly that well, it cannot be far if barrymore had
to carry out the food to it, and he is
waiting this villain beside that candle. By thunder, Watson, I
am going out to take that man. The same thought
(30:35):
had crossed my own mind. It was not as if
the Barrymorse 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
neither pity nor excuse. We were only doing our duty
and taking this chance of putting him back where he
(30:57):
could do no harm. With his brute, full and violent, Nietzsche,
others would have to pay the price if we held
our hands any night, For example, our neighbors, the Stapletons,
might be attacked by him. And it may have been
the thought of this which made Sir Henry so keen
upon the adventure. I will come, said I. Then get
(31:20):
your revolver and put on your boots. The sooner we start,
the better, as the fellow may put out his light
and be off. In five minutes we were outside the
door 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
(31:44):
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, thin rain began to fall.
The light still burned steadily in front. Are you armed,
(32:07):
i asked, I have a hunting crop. We must close
in on him rapidly, for he is said to be
a desperate fellow. We shall take him by surprise and
have him at our mercy before he can resist, I say, Watson,
said the baronet. What would Holmes say to this? How
about that hour of darkness in which the power of
(32:29):
evil is exalted? As if in an 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 Grimp and Maya. It came
with the wind through the silence of the night, a long,
deep mutter, then a rising howl, and then the sad moan,
(32:54):
in which it died away. Again and again it sounded,
the whole air throbbing with it, strident wild in Menacene.
The baronet caught my sleeve, and his face glimmered white
through the darkness. My god, what's that, Watson? I don't know.
(33:17):
It's a sound they have on the moor. I heard
it once before it died away, and an absolute silence
closed in upon us. We stood straining our ears, but
nothing came, Watson, said the baronet. It was the cry
of a hound. My blood bean cold in my veins,
(33:42):
for there was a break in his voice which told
of the sudden horror which had seized him. What do
they call this sound? He asked, who the folk on
the countryside. Oh, they are ignorant people. Why should you
mind what they tell me? Watson? What do they say
(34:04):
of it? I hesitated, but could not escape the question.
They say it is the cry of the hound of
the Baskervilles. He groaned and was silent for a few moments.
A hound, it was, he said at last. But it
seemed to come from miles away, over yonder. I think
(34:28):
it was hard to say whence it came. It rose
and fell with the wind. Isn't that the direction of
the great grimpen Mire? Yes? It is, well, it was
up there. Come now, Watson. Don't you think yourself that
it was the cry of a hound. I am not
a child. You need not fear to speak the truth.
(34:51):
Stapleton was with me when I heard it last. He
said that it might be the call of a strange bird. No, no,
it was a My God, can there be some truth
in all these stories? Is it possible that I am
really in danger from so dark a cause? You don't
(35:11):
believe it? To you, Watson? No?
Speaker 1 (35:14):
No?
Speaker 2 (35:15):
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.
(35:39):
Feel my hand, it was as cold as a block
of marble. You'll be all right tomorrow. I don't think
i'll get that cry out of my head. What do
you advise that we do? Now? Shall we turn back? No,
by thunder. We have come out to get our man,
(36:00):
and we will do it. We after the convict and
a hell hound as lightly 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
(36:23):
distance of a light upon a pitch dark night. And
sometimes the glimmer seemed to be far away upon the horizon.
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
(36:45):
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,
(37:07):
just the one straight yellow flame and the gleam of
the rock on each side of it. What shall we
do now, whispered Sir Henry. Wait here, he must be
near his light. Let us see if we can get
a glimpse of him. The words were hardly out of
my mouth when we both saw him. Over the rocks.
In the crevice of which the candle burned, there was
(37:30):
thrust out an evil yellow face, a terrible animal face,
all seamed and scored with vile passions, foul with maya,
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 hill sides. The
(37:50):
light beneath him was reflected in his small, cunning eyes,
which peered fiercely to right and left through the darkness,
like a crafty and haveage animal who has heard the
steps of the hunters. Something had evidently aroused his suspicions.
It may have been that Barrymore had some private signal
which we had neglected to give, or the fellow may
(38:13):
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,
(38:34):
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
(38:55):
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.
(39:16):
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
(39:36):
the space between us grew ever wider. Finally we stopped
and sat, panting on two rocks while we watched him
disappearing in the distance. And it was at this moment
that there occurred a most strange and unexpected thing. We
had risen from our rocks and were turning to go home,
(39:58):
having abandoned the hopeless chase. The moon was low upon
the right, and the jagged pinnacle of a granite tor
stood up against the low 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 tour.
(40:21):
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
(40:42):
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
(41:03):
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 trace of that silent and motionless figure.
I wished to go in that direction and to search
(41:25):
the tour, 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 tour, and could not feel the
thrill which his strange presence and his commanding attitude had
(41:48):
given to me. A warder, no doubt, said he, The
moor has been thick with them since this fellow escaped. Well,
perhaps his explanation may be the right one one, but
I should like to have some further proof of it.
To day we mean to communicate to the Princetown people
where they should look for their missing man. But it
(42:10):
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
(42:31):
have all the facts and leave you to select for
yourself those which will be of most service to you
in helping you to your conclusions. We are certainly making
some progress so far as the Barrymores go. We have
found the motive of their actions, and that has cleared
up the situation very much. But the more with its
(42:53):
mysteries and its strange inhabitants remains 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
(43:14):
the next few days. End of chapter nine,
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