May 27, 2025 • 24 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 ten 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. Extract from the Diary of Doctor Watson.
(00:24):
So far I have been able to quote from the
reports which I have forwarded during these early days to
Sherlock Holmes. Now, however, I have arrived at a point
in my narrative where I am compelled to abandon this
method and to trust once more to my recollections, aided
by the diary which I kept at the time. A
(00:45):
few extracts from the latter will carry me on to
those scenes which are indelibly fixed in every detail upon
my memory. I proceed then from the morning which followed
our abortive chase of the conduct, and our other strange
experiences upon the Moor October sixteenth, a dull and foggy day,
(01:08):
with the drizzle of rain, the houses banked in with
rolling clouds, which rise now and then to show the
dreary curves of the moor, with thin silver veins upon
the sides of the hills, and the distant boulders gleaming,
where the light strikes upon their wet faces. It is
melancholy outside and in the Baronet is in a black reaction.
(01:33):
After the excitements of the night, I am conscious myself
of a weight at my heart and a feeling of
impending danger, ever present, danger which is the more terrible
because I am unable to define it, and have I
not cause for such a feeling. Consider the long sequence
(01:54):
of incidents which have all pointed to some sinister influence
which is at work around us. There is the death
of the last occupant of the hall fulfilling so exactly
the conditions of the family legend. And there are the
repeated reports from peasants of the appearance of a strange
creature upon the moor. Twice I have with my own
(02:16):
ears heard the sound which resembled the distant bane of
a hound. It is incredible impossible that it should really
be outside the ordinary laws of nature. A spectral hound,
which leaves material footmarks and fills the air with its
howling is surely not to be thought of. Stapleton may
(02:38):
fall in with such a superstition, and Mortimer also. But
if I have one quality upon earth, it is common sense,
and nothing will persuade me to believe in such a thing.
To do so would be to descend to the level
of these poor peasants, who are not content with a
mere fiend dog, but must needs describe him with hell
(03:00):
fire shooting from his mouth and eyes. Holmes would not
listen to such fancies, and I am his agent. But
facts are facts, and I have twice heard this crying
upon the moor. Supposed that there were really some huge
hound loose upon it, that would go far to explain everything.
(03:22):
But where could such a hound lie concealed? Where did
it get its food? Where did it come from? How
was it that no one sought by day? It must
be confessed that the natural explanation offers almost as many
difficulties as the other. And always apart from the hound,
(03:43):
there is the fact of the human agency in London,
the man in the cab, and the letter which warned
Sir Henry against the moor. This at least was real,
but it might have been the work of a protecting
friend as easily as of an enemy. Where is that
friend or enemy? Now? Has he remained in London? Or
(04:07):
has he followed us down? Here? Could he? Could he?
Be the stranger whom I saw upon the tour. It
is true that I have had only one glance at him,
and yet there are some things to which I am
ready to swear. He is no one whom I have
seen down here, and I have now met all the neighbors.
(04:29):
The figure was far taller than that of Stapleton, far
thinner than that of Franklin Barrymore. It might possibly have been,
but we had left him behind us, and I am
certain that he could not have followed us. A stranger, then,
is still dogging us, just as a stranger dogged us
in London. We have never shaken him off. If I
(04:53):
could lay my hands upon that man, then at last
we might find ourselves at the end of all our
difficulties to this one purpose. I must now devote all
my energies. My first impulse was to tell Sir Henry
all my plans. My second and wisest one is to
play my own game and speak as little as possible
(05:16):
to any one. He is silent and distrait. His nerves
have been strangely shaken by that sound upon the moor.
I will say nothing to add to his anxieties, but
I will take my own steps to attain my own end.
We had a small scene this morning. After breakfast. Barrymore
(05:39):
asked leave to speak with Sir Henry, and they were
closeted in his study some little time. Sitting in the
billiard room, I more than once heard the sound of
voices raised, and I had a pretty good idea what
the point was, which was under discussion. After a time,
the baronet opened his door and called for me. Barry
(06:01):
Mark considers that he has a grievance. He said, he
thinks that it was unfair on our part to hunt
his brother in law down when he, of his own
free will, had told us the secret. The butt blow
was standing very pale, but very collected before us. I
may have spoken too warmly, sir, said he. And if
(06:24):
I have, I am sure that I beg your pardon.
At the same time, I was very much surprised when
I heard you two gentlemen come back this morning and
learned that you had been chasing Selden. The poor fellow
has enough to fight against without my putting more upon
his track. If you had told us of your own
free will, it would have been a different thing, said
(06:46):
the baronet. You only told us, or rather your wife
only told us when it was forced from you and
you could not help yourself.
Speaker 2 (06:57):
I didn't think that you would have taken advantage of it, so,
Sir Henry, indeed I didn't.
Speaker 1 (07:02):
The man is a public danger. There are lonely houses
scattered over the moor, and he is a fellow who
would stick at nothing. You only want to get a
glimpse of his face to see that. Look at mister
Stapleton's house, for example, with no one but himself to
defend it. There's no safety for any one until he
is under lock and key. You'll break into no house, Sir.
(07:27):
I give you my solemn word upon that. But he
will never trouble anyone in this country again. I assure you,
Sir Henry, that in a very few days, the necessary
arrangements will have been made and he will be on
his way to South America. For God's sake, Sir, I
beg of you not to let the police know that
he's still on the moor. They have given up the
(07:50):
chase there and he can lie quiet until the ship
is ready for him. You can't tell on him without
getting my wife and me into trouble. I beg you, sir,
to say nothing to the police. What do you say, Watson?
I shrugged my shoulders. If he were safely out of
(08:10):
the country, he would relieve the taxpayer of a burden.
But how about the chance of his holding some one
up before he goes. He would not do anything, so
mad sir. We have provided him with all that he
can want to commit. A crime would be to show
where he was hiding. That is true, said sir Henry.
Speaker 2 (08:33):
Well, Barrymore, God bless you, sir, and bet you from
my heart. It would have killed my poor wife had
he been taken again. I guess we are aiding and
a betting a felony, Watson. But after what we have heard,
I don't feel as if I could give the man up.
Speaker 1 (08:50):
So there is an end of it, all right, Barrymore,
you can go with a few broken words of gratitude.
The man turned, but he hesitated, and then came back.
You've been so kind to us, sir, that I should
like to do the best I can for you in return.
I know something, Sir Henry, and perhaps I should have
(09:12):
said it before, but it was long after the inquest
that I found it out. I've never read a word
about it yet to mortal man. It's about poor Sir
Charles's death. The baronet and I were both upon our feet.
Do you know how he died? No, Sir, I don't
(09:33):
know that. What then I know why he was at
the gate at that hour. It was to meet a woman.
To meet a woman, he yes, sir, And the woman's name.
I can't give you the name, sir, but I can
give you the initial Her initials were l L. How
(09:57):
do you know this Barrymore? Well, sir, Henry, your uncle
had a letter that morning. He had usually a great
many letters, for he was a public man and well
known for his kind heart, so that everyone who was
in trouble was glad to turn to him. But that morning,
as it chanced, there was only this one letter. So
(10:18):
I took the more notice of it. It was from
whom Tracy, and it was addressed in a woman's hand. Well, well, sir,
I thought no more of the matter, and never would
have done had it not been for my wife. Only
a few weeks ago, she was cleaning out Sir Charles's study.
It had never been touched since his death, and she
(10:41):
found the ashes of a burned letter in the back
of the grate. The greater part of it was charred
to pieces, but one little slip the end of a
page hung together and the writing could still be read,
though it was gray on a blackground. It seemed to
us to be a PostScript at the end of the letter,
(11:03):
and it said, please, please, as you are a gentleman,
burn this letter and be at the gate by ten o'clock.
Beneath it were signed the initials l L. Have you
got that slip? No, sir, it crumbled all to bits
after we moved it. Had Sir Charles received any other
(11:27):
letters in the same writing, Well, sir, I took no
particular notice of his letters. I should not have noticed
this one. Only it happened to come alone. And you
have no idea who l L is, No, sir, no
more than you have. But I expect if we could
lay our hands upon that lady, we should know more
(11:48):
about Sir Charles's death. I cannot understand, barrymore how you
came to conceal this important information. Well, sir, it was
immediately after that our own trouble came to us. And
then again, sir, we were both of us very fond
of Sir Charles, as we well might be considering all
(12:09):
he has done for us, to rake this up couldn't
help our poor master. And it's well to go carefully
when there's a lady in the case. Even the best
of us, you thought it might injure his reputation. Well, Sir,
I thought no good could come of it. But now
you have been kind to us, and I feel as
(12:30):
if it would be treating you unfairly not to tell
you all that I know about the matter. Very good,
barrymore you can go. When the butler had left us,
Sir Henry turned to me, Well, Watson, what do you
think of this new light? It seems to leave the
darkness rather blacker than before, so I think. But if
(12:55):
we can only trace l L it should clear up
the whole business. We have gained that much. We know
that there is some one who has the facts. If
we can only find her, what do you think we
should do? Let Holmes know all about it at once.
It will give him the clue for which he has
(13:16):
been seeking. I am much mistaken if it does not
bring him down. I went at once to my room
and drew up my report of the morning's conversation for Holmes.
It was evident to me that he had been very
busy of late, for the notes which I had from
Baker Street were few and short, with no comments upon
(13:36):
the information which I had supplied, and hardly any reference
to my mission. No doubt, his blackmailing case is absorbing
all his faculties, and yet this new factor must surely
arrest his attention and renew his interest. I wish that
he were here. October seventeenth. All day to day, the
(14:02):
rain poured down, rustling on the ivy and dripping from
the eaves. I thought of the convict out upon the bleak, cold,
shelterless moor. Poor devil, whatever his crimes, he has suffered
something to atone for them. And then I thought of
that other one, the face in the cab, the figure
(14:24):
against the moon. Was he also in that deluged the
unseen watcher, the man of darkness. In the evening, I
put on my waterproof and I walked far upon the
sodden moor, full of dark imaginings, the rain beating upon
my face and the wind whistling about my ears. God
(14:49):
helped those who wander into the great mire now, for
even the firm uplands are becoming a morass. I found
the black tor upon which I had seen the solitary Watcher,
and from its craggy summit I looked out myself across
the melancholy downs. Rain squalls drifted across their russet face,
(15:11):
and the heavy slate colored clouds hung low over the landscape,
trailing in gray wreaths down the sides of the fantastic hills.
In the distant hollow on the left, half hidden by
the mist, the two thin towers of Baskerville Hall rose
above the trees. They were the only signs of human
(15:33):
life which I could see, save only those prehistoric huts
which lay thickly upon the slopes of the hills. Nowhere
was there any trace of that lonely man whom I
had seen on the same spot two nights before. As
I walked back, I was overtaken by Doctor Mortimer, driving
(15:54):
in his dog cart over a rough moorland trap which
led from the outlying farmhouse of Falmyre. He has been
very attentive to us, and hardly a day has passed
that he has not called at the hall to see
how we were getting on. He insisted upon my climbing
into his dog cart, and he gave me a left homeward.
(16:16):
I found him much troubled over the disappearance of his
little spaniel. It had wandered on to the moor and
had never come back. I gave him such consolation as
I might, but I thought of the pony on the
grimp and Maya, and I do not fancy that he
will see his little dog again. By the way, Mortimer
(16:38):
said I, as we jolted along the rough road. I
suppose there are few people living within driving distance of
this whom you do not know hardly any I think.
Can you then tell me the name of any woman
whose initials are l L? He thought for a few minutes. No,
(17:01):
said he. There are few gypsies and laboring folk for
whom I can't answer, But among the farmers or gentry,
there is no one whose initials are those. Wait a bit, though,
he added, after a pause, there is Laura Lyons. Her
initials are l L, but she lives in Coombe. Tracy,
(17:25):
who is she? I asked? She is Franklin's daughter, What
old Franklin the crank? Exactly? She married an artist named
Lions who came sketching on the moor. He proved to
be a blagguard and deserted her. The fault, from what
I hear, may not have been entirely on one side.
(17:48):
Her father refused to have anything to do with her
because she had married without his consent, and perhaps for
one or two other reasons as well. So between the
old sinner her and the young one, the girl has
had a pretty bad time. How does she live? I
fancy Old Franklin allows her a pittance, but it cannot
(18:11):
be more, for his own affairs are considerably involved. Whatever
she may have deserved, one could not allow her to
go hopelessly to the bad. Her story got about, and
several of the people here did something to enable her
to earn an honest living. Stapleton did for one, and
Sir Charles for another. I gave a trifle myself. It
(18:34):
was to set her up in a typewriting business. He
wanted to know the object of my inquiries, but I
managed to satisfy his curiosity without telling him too much.
For there is no reason why we should take any
one into our confidence. Tomorrow morning I shall find my
way to comb tracy. And if I can see this
(18:56):
missus Laura Lyons of equivocal reputation, a long step will
have been made towards clearing one incident in this chain
of mysteries. I am certainly developing the wisdom of the serpent.
For when Mortimer pressed his questions to an inconvenient extent,
I asked him casually to what type Franklin's skull belonged,
(19:20):
and so heard nothing but craniology. For the rest of
our drive. I have not lived for years with Sherlock
Holmes for nothing. I have only one other incident to
record upon this tempestuous and melancholy day. This was my
conversation with Barrymore just now, which gives me one more
(19:42):
strong card, which I can play in due time. Mortimer
had stayed to dinner, and he and the baronet played
a carte. Afterwards, the butler brought me my coffee into
the library, and I took the chance to ask him
a few questions. Wells said, I has this precious relation
(20:02):
of yours departed? Or is he still lurking out yonder?
I don't know, sir. I hope to Heaven that he
has gone, for he has brought nothing but trouble here.
I've not heard of him since I left out food
for him last, and that was three days ago. Did
you see him? Then? No, sir, But the food was
(20:23):
gone when next I went that way that he was
certainly there, so you would think, sir, unless it was
the other man who took it. I sat with my
coffee cup halfway to my lips and stared at Barrymore.
You know that there is another man? Then, yes, sir,
(20:45):
there is another man upon the moor. Have you seen him? No, sir,
How do you know of him? Then? Selden told me
of him, sir, a week or more, a week ago
or more. He's in hiding too, but he's not a convict,
as far as I can make out. I don't like it,
Doctor Watson. I tell you straight, sir, that I don't
(21:07):
like it. He spoke with a sudden passion of earnestness.
Now listen to me, Barrymore. I have no interest in
this matter but that of your master. I have come
here with no object except to help him. Tell me, frankly,
what it is that you don't like. Barrymore hesitated for
a moment, as if he regretted his outburst or found
(21:30):
it difficult to express his own feelings in words. It's
all these goings on, sir, he cried at last, waving
his hand towards the rain lashed window which faced the moor.
There's foul play somewhere, and there's black villainy brewing to that.
I swear very glad I should be, sir to see
(21:51):
Henry on his way back to London again. But what
is it that alarms you? Look at Sir Charles's death.
That was bad enough for all that, the coroner said,
Look at the noises this is on the moor at night.
There's not a man would cross it after sundown if
he was paid for it. Look at this stranger hiding
(22:12):
out yonder and watching and waiting. What's he waiting for?
What does it mean? It means no good to any
one of the name of Basterville, And very glad I
shall be to quit of it all on the day
that Sir Henry's new servants are ready to take over
the hall. But what about this stranger? Said? I can
(22:33):
you tell me anything about him? What did Selden say?
Did he find out where he hid or what he
was doing? He saw him once or twice. He is
a deep one and gives nothing away. At first he
thought he was the police, but soon he found that
he had some lay of his own. A kind of
gentleman he was, as far as he could see. But
(22:56):
what he was doing he could not make out. And
where did he say?
Speaker 2 (23:00):
That?
Speaker 1 (23:00):
He lived? Among the old houses on the hill side,
the stone huts where the old folk used to live.
But how about his food? Selden found out that he
has not a lad who works for him and brings
all he needs. I dare say he goes to comb
Tracy for what he wants. Very good, barrymore. We may
(23:24):
talk further of this some other time. When the butler
had gone, I walked over to the black window, and
I looked through a blurred pane at the driving clouds
and at the tossing outline of the windswept trees. It
is a wild night indoors. And what must it be
in a stone hut upon the moor? What passion of
(23:45):
hatred can it be which leads a man to lurk
in such a place at such a time, And what
deep and earnest purpose can he have which calls for
such a trial? There in that hut upon the moor
seems to lie the very center of that problem which
has vexed me so sorely. I swear that another day
(24:07):
shall not have passed before I have done all that
man can do to reach the heart of the mystery.
End of Chapter ten,
Chapter ten 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. Extract from the Diary of Doctor Watson.
(00:24):
So far I have been able to quote from the
reports which I have forwarded during these early days to
Sherlock Holmes. Now, however, I have arrived at a point
in my narrative where I am compelled to abandon this
method and to trust once more to my recollections, aided
by the diary which I kept at the time. A
(00:45):
few extracts from the latter will carry me on to
those scenes which are indelibly fixed in every detail upon
my memory. I proceed then from the morning which followed
our abortive chase of the conduct, and our other strange
experiences upon the Moor October sixteenth, a dull and foggy day,
(01:08):
with the drizzle of rain, the houses banked in with
rolling clouds, which rise now and then to show the
dreary curves of the moor, with thin silver veins upon
the sides of the hills, and the distant boulders gleaming,
where the light strikes upon their wet faces. It is
melancholy outside and in the Baronet is in a black reaction.
(01:33):
After the excitements of the night, I am conscious myself
of a weight at my heart and a feeling of
impending danger, ever present, danger which is the more terrible
because I am unable to define it, and have I
not cause for such a feeling. Consider the long sequence
(01:54):
of incidents which have all pointed to some sinister influence
which is at work around us. There is the death
of the last occupant of the hall fulfilling so exactly
the conditions of the family legend. And there are the
repeated reports from peasants of the appearance of a strange
creature upon the moor. Twice I have with my own
(02:16):
ears heard the sound which resembled the distant bane of
a hound. It is incredible impossible that it should really
be outside the ordinary laws of nature. A spectral hound,
which leaves material footmarks and fills the air with its
howling is surely not to be thought of. Stapleton may
(02:38):
fall in with such a superstition, and Mortimer also. But
if I have one quality upon earth, it is common sense,
and nothing will persuade me to believe in such a thing.
To do so would be to descend to the level
of these poor peasants, who are not content with a
mere fiend dog, but must needs describe him with hell
(03:00):
fire shooting from his mouth and eyes. Holmes would not
listen to such fancies, and I am his agent. But
facts are facts, and I have twice heard this crying
upon the moor. Supposed that there were really some huge
hound loose upon it, that would go far to explain everything.
(03:22):
But where could such a hound lie concealed? Where did
it get its food? Where did it come from? How
was it that no one sought by day? It must
be confessed that the natural explanation offers almost as many
difficulties as the other. And always apart from the hound,
(03:43):
there is the fact of the human agency in London,
the man in the cab, and the letter which warned
Sir Henry against the moor. This at least was real,
but it might have been the work of a protecting
friend as easily as of an enemy. Where is that
friend or enemy? Now? Has he remained in London? Or
(04:07):
has he followed us down? Here? Could he? Could he?
Be the stranger whom I saw upon the tour. It
is true that I have had only one glance at him,
and yet there are some things to which I am
ready to swear. He is no one whom I have
seen down here, and I have now met all the neighbors.
(04:29):
The figure was far taller than that of Stapleton, far
thinner than that of Franklin Barrymore. It might possibly have been,
but we had left him behind us, and I am
certain that he could not have followed us. A stranger, then,
is still dogging us, just as a stranger dogged us
in London. We have never shaken him off. If I
(04:53):
could lay my hands upon that man, then at last
we might find ourselves at the end of all our
difficulties to this one purpose. I must now devote all
my energies. My first impulse was to tell Sir Henry
all my plans. My second and wisest one is to
play my own game and speak as little as possible
(05:16):
to any one. He is silent and distrait. His nerves
have been strangely shaken by that sound upon the moor.
I will say nothing to add to his anxieties, but
I will take my own steps to attain my own end.
We had a small scene this morning. After breakfast. Barrymore
(05:39):
asked leave to speak with Sir Henry, and they were
closeted in his study some little time. Sitting in the
billiard room, I more than once heard the sound of
voices raised, and I had a pretty good idea what
the point was, which was under discussion. After a time,
the baronet opened his door and called for me. Barry
(06:01):
Mark considers that he has a grievance. He said, he
thinks that it was unfair on our part to hunt
his brother in law down when he, of his own
free will, had told us the secret. The butt blow
was standing very pale, but very collected before us. I
may have spoken too warmly, sir, said he. And if
(06:24):
I have, I am sure that I beg your pardon.
At the same time, I was very much surprised when
I heard you two gentlemen come back this morning and
learned that you had been chasing Selden. The poor fellow
has enough to fight against without my putting more upon
his track. If you had told us of your own
free will, it would have been a different thing, said
(06:46):
the baronet. You only told us, or rather your wife
only told us when it was forced from you and
you could not help yourself.
Speaker 2 (06:57):
I didn't think that you would have taken advantage of it, so,
Sir Henry, indeed I didn't.
Speaker 1 (07:02):
The man is a public danger. There are lonely houses
scattered over the moor, and he is a fellow who
would stick at nothing. You only want to get a
glimpse of his face to see that. Look at mister
Stapleton's house, for example, with no one but himself to
defend it. There's no safety for any one until he
is under lock and key. You'll break into no house, Sir.
(07:27):
I give you my solemn word upon that. But he
will never trouble anyone in this country again. I assure you,
Sir Henry, that in a very few days, the necessary
arrangements will have been made and he will be on
his way to South America. For God's sake, Sir, I
beg of you not to let the police know that
he's still on the moor. They have given up the
(07:50):
chase there and he can lie quiet until the ship
is ready for him. You can't tell on him without
getting my wife and me into trouble. I beg you, sir,
to say nothing to the police. What do you say, Watson?
I shrugged my shoulders. If he were safely out of
(08:10):
the country, he would relieve the taxpayer of a burden.
But how about the chance of his holding some one
up before he goes. He would not do anything, so
mad sir. We have provided him with all that he
can want to commit. A crime would be to show
where he was hiding. That is true, said sir Henry.
Speaker 2 (08:33):
Well, Barrymore, God bless you, sir, and bet you from
my heart. It would have killed my poor wife had
he been taken again. I guess we are aiding and
a betting a felony, Watson. But after what we have heard,
I don't feel as if I could give the man up.
Speaker 1 (08:50):
So there is an end of it, all right, Barrymore,
you can go with a few broken words of gratitude.
The man turned, but he hesitated, and then came back.
You've been so kind to us, sir, that I should
like to do the best I can for you in return.
I know something, Sir Henry, and perhaps I should have
(09:12):
said it before, but it was long after the inquest
that I found it out. I've never read a word
about it yet to mortal man. It's about poor Sir
Charles's death. The baronet and I were both upon our feet.
Do you know how he died? No, Sir, I don't
(09:33):
know that. What then I know why he was at
the gate at that hour. It was to meet a woman.
To meet a woman, he yes, sir, And the woman's name.
I can't give you the name, sir, but I can
give you the initial Her initials were l L. How
(09:57):
do you know this Barrymore? Well, sir, Henry, your uncle
had a letter that morning. He had usually a great
many letters, for he was a public man and well
known for his kind heart, so that everyone who was
in trouble was glad to turn to him. But that morning,
as it chanced, there was only this one letter. So
(10:18):
I took the more notice of it. It was from
whom Tracy, and it was addressed in a woman's hand. Well, well, sir,
I thought no more of the matter, and never would
have done had it not been for my wife. Only
a few weeks ago, she was cleaning out Sir Charles's study.
It had never been touched since his death, and she
(10:41):
found the ashes of a burned letter in the back
of the grate. The greater part of it was charred
to pieces, but one little slip the end of a
page hung together and the writing could still be read,
though it was gray on a blackground. It seemed to
us to be a PostScript at the end of the letter,
(11:03):
and it said, please, please, as you are a gentleman,
burn this letter and be at the gate by ten o'clock.
Beneath it were signed the initials l L. Have you
got that slip? No, sir, it crumbled all to bits
after we moved it. Had Sir Charles received any other
(11:27):
letters in the same writing, Well, sir, I took no
particular notice of his letters. I should not have noticed
this one. Only it happened to come alone. And you
have no idea who l L is, No, sir, no
more than you have. But I expect if we could
lay our hands upon that lady, we should know more
(11:48):
about Sir Charles's death. I cannot understand, barrymore how you
came to conceal this important information. Well, sir, it was
immediately after that our own trouble came to us. And
then again, sir, we were both of us very fond
of Sir Charles, as we well might be considering all
(12:09):
he has done for us, to rake this up couldn't
help our poor master. And it's well to go carefully
when there's a lady in the case. Even the best
of us, you thought it might injure his reputation. Well, Sir,
I thought no good could come of it. But now
you have been kind to us, and I feel as
(12:30):
if it would be treating you unfairly not to tell
you all that I know about the matter. Very good,
barrymore you can go. When the butler had left us,
Sir Henry turned to me, Well, Watson, what do you
think of this new light? It seems to leave the
darkness rather blacker than before, so I think. But if
(12:55):
we can only trace l L it should clear up
the whole business. We have gained that much. We know
that there is some one who has the facts. If
we can only find her, what do you think we
should do? Let Holmes know all about it at once.
It will give him the clue for which he has
(13:16):
been seeking. I am much mistaken if it does not
bring him down. I went at once to my room
and drew up my report of the morning's conversation for Holmes.
It was evident to me that he had been very
busy of late, for the notes which I had from
Baker Street were few and short, with no comments upon
(13:36):
the information which I had supplied, and hardly any reference
to my mission. No doubt, his blackmailing case is absorbing
all his faculties, and yet this new factor must surely
arrest his attention and renew his interest. I wish that
he were here. October seventeenth. All day to day, the
(14:02):
rain poured down, rustling on the ivy and dripping from
the eaves. I thought of the convict out upon the bleak, cold,
shelterless moor. Poor devil, whatever his crimes, he has suffered
something to atone for them. And then I thought of
that other one, the face in the cab, the figure
(14:24):
against the moon. Was he also in that deluged the
unseen watcher, the man of darkness. In the evening, I
put on my waterproof and I walked far upon the
sodden moor, full of dark imaginings, the rain beating upon
my face and the wind whistling about my ears. God
(14:49):
helped those who wander into the great mire now, for
even the firm uplands are becoming a morass. I found
the black tor upon which I had seen the solitary Watcher,
and from its craggy summit I looked out myself across
the melancholy downs. Rain squalls drifted across their russet face,
(15:11):
and the heavy slate colored clouds hung low over the landscape,
trailing in gray wreaths down the sides of the fantastic hills.
In the distant hollow on the left, half hidden by
the mist, the two thin towers of Baskerville Hall rose
above the trees. They were the only signs of human
(15:33):
life which I could see, save only those prehistoric huts
which lay thickly upon the slopes of the hills. Nowhere
was there any trace of that lonely man whom I
had seen on the same spot two nights before. As
I walked back, I was overtaken by Doctor Mortimer, driving
(15:54):
in his dog cart over a rough moorland trap which
led from the outlying farmhouse of Falmyre. He has been
very attentive to us, and hardly a day has passed
that he has not called at the hall to see
how we were getting on. He insisted upon my climbing
into his dog cart, and he gave me a left homeward.
(16:16):
I found him much troubled over the disappearance of his
little spaniel. It had wandered on to the moor and
had never come back. I gave him such consolation as
I might, but I thought of the pony on the
grimp and Maya, and I do not fancy that he
will see his little dog again. By the way, Mortimer
(16:38):
said I, as we jolted along the rough road. I
suppose there are few people living within driving distance of
this whom you do not know hardly any I think.
Can you then tell me the name of any woman
whose initials are l L? He thought for a few minutes. No,
(17:01):
said he. There are few gypsies and laboring folk for
whom I can't answer, But among the farmers or gentry,
there is no one whose initials are those. Wait a bit, though,
he added, after a pause, there is Laura Lyons. Her
initials are l L, but she lives in Coombe. Tracy,
(17:25):
who is she? I asked? She is Franklin's daughter, What
old Franklin the crank? Exactly? She married an artist named
Lions who came sketching on the moor. He proved to
be a blagguard and deserted her. The fault, from what
I hear, may not have been entirely on one side.
(17:48):
Her father refused to have anything to do with her
because she had married without his consent, and perhaps for
one or two other reasons as well. So between the
old sinner her and the young one, the girl has
had a pretty bad time. How does she live? I
fancy Old Franklin allows her a pittance, but it cannot
(18:11):
be more, for his own affairs are considerably involved. Whatever
she may have deserved, one could not allow her to
go hopelessly to the bad. Her story got about, and
several of the people here did something to enable her
to earn an honest living. Stapleton did for one, and
Sir Charles for another. I gave a trifle myself. It
(18:34):
was to set her up in a typewriting business. He
wanted to know the object of my inquiries, but I
managed to satisfy his curiosity without telling him too much.
For there is no reason why we should take any
one into our confidence. Tomorrow morning I shall find my
way to comb tracy. And if I can see this
(18:56):
missus Laura Lyons of equivocal reputation, a long step will
have been made towards clearing one incident in this chain
of mysteries. I am certainly developing the wisdom of the serpent.
For when Mortimer pressed his questions to an inconvenient extent,
I asked him casually to what type Franklin's skull belonged,
(19:20):
and so heard nothing but craniology. For the rest of
our drive. I have not lived for years with Sherlock
Holmes for nothing. I have only one other incident to
record upon this tempestuous and melancholy day. This was my
conversation with Barrymore just now, which gives me one more
(19:42):
strong card, which I can play in due time. Mortimer
had stayed to dinner, and he and the baronet played
a carte. Afterwards, the butler brought me my coffee into
the library, and I took the chance to ask him
a few questions. Wells said, I has this precious relation
(20:02):
of yours departed? Or is he still lurking out yonder?
I don't know, sir. I hope to Heaven that he
has gone, for he has brought nothing but trouble here.
I've not heard of him since I left out food
for him last, and that was three days ago. Did
you see him? Then? No, sir, But the food was
(20:23):
gone when next I went that way that he was
certainly there, so you would think, sir, unless it was
the other man who took it. I sat with my
coffee cup halfway to my lips and stared at Barrymore.
You know that there is another man? Then, yes, sir,
(20:45):
there is another man upon the moor. Have you seen him? No, sir,
How do you know of him? Then? Selden told me
of him, sir, a week or more, a week ago
or more. He's in hiding too, but he's not a convict,
as far as I can make out. I don't like it,
Doctor Watson. I tell you straight, sir, that I don't
(21:07):
like it. He spoke with a sudden passion of earnestness.
Now listen to me, Barrymore. I have no interest in
this matter but that of your master. I have come
here with no object except to help him. Tell me, frankly,
what it is that you don't like. Barrymore hesitated for
a moment, as if he regretted his outburst or found
(21:30):
it difficult to express his own feelings in words. It's
all these goings on, sir, he cried at last, waving
his hand towards the rain lashed window which faced the moor.
There's foul play somewhere, and there's black villainy brewing to that.
I swear very glad I should be, sir to see
(21:51):
Henry on his way back to London again. But what
is it that alarms you? Look at Sir Charles's death.
That was bad enough for all that, the coroner said,
Look at the noises this is on the moor at night.
There's not a man would cross it after sundown if
he was paid for it. Look at this stranger hiding
(22:12):
out yonder and watching and waiting. What's he waiting for?
What does it mean? It means no good to any
one of the name of Basterville, And very glad I
shall be to quit of it all on the day
that Sir Henry's new servants are ready to take over
the hall. But what about this stranger? Said? I can
(22:33):
you tell me anything about him? What did Selden say?
Did he find out where he hid or what he
was doing? He saw him once or twice. He is
a deep one and gives nothing away. At first he
thought he was the police, but soon he found that
he had some lay of his own. A kind of
gentleman he was, as far as he could see. But
(22:56):
what he was doing he could not make out. And
where did he say?
Speaker 2 (23:00):
That?
Speaker 1 (23:00):
He lived? Among the old houses on the hill side,
the stone huts where the old folk used to live.
But how about his food? Selden found out that he
has not a lad who works for him and brings
all he needs. I dare say he goes to comb
Tracy for what he wants. Very good, barrymore. We may
(23:24):
talk further of this some other time. When the butler
had gone, I walked over to the black window, and
I looked through a blurred pane at the driving clouds
and at the tossing outline of the windswept trees. It
is a wild night indoors. And what must it be
in a stone hut upon the moor? What passion of
(23:45):
hatred can it be which leads a man to lurk
in such a place at such a time, And what
deep and earnest purpose can he have which calls for
such a trial? There in that hut upon the moor
seems to lie the very center of that problem which
has vexed me so sorely. I swear that another day
(24:07):
shall not have passed before I have done all that
man can do to reach the heart of the mystery.
End of Chapter ten,
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