May 27, 2025 • 31 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 (00:01):
Chapter twelve 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, Death on the Moor. For a
(00:23):
moment or two, I sat breathless, hardly able to believe
my ears. Then my senses and my voice came back
to me, while a crushing weight of responsibility seemed in
an instant to be lifted from my soul. That cold, incisive,
ironical voice could belong to but one man in all
(00:45):
the world. Holmes, I cried. Holmes, come out, said he,
and please be careful with the revolver. I stooped under
the rude lintel, and there he sat upon a stone outside,
his gray eyes dancing with amusement as they fell upon
(01:06):
my astonished features. He was thin and worn, but clear
and alert, his keen face bronzed by the sun and
roughened by the wind. In his tweed suit and clock cap,
he looked like any other tourist upon the moor. And
he had contrived with that catlike glove of personal cleanliness,
(01:28):
which was one of his characteristics, that his chin should
be as smooth and his linen as perfect as if
he were in Baker Street. I never was more glad
to see any one in my life, said I as
I wrung him by the hand, or more astonished. Eh well,
(01:48):
I must confess to it. The surprise was not all
on one side. I assure you. I had no idea
that you had found my occasional retreat, still less that
you were inside it until I was within twenty paces
of the door. My footprint I presume no, Watson, I
(02:10):
fear that I could not undertake to recognize your footprint
amid all the footprints of the world. If you seriously
desire to deceive me, you must change your tobacconist. For
when I see the stub of a cigarette marked Bradley
Oxford Street, I know that my friend Watson is in
the neighborhood. You will see it there beside the path
(02:34):
you threw it down, no doubt. At the supreme moment
when you charged into the empty hut, exactly I thought
as much, and, knowing your admirable tenacity, I was convinced
that you were sitting in ambush, a weapon within reach,
waiting for the tenant to return. So you actually thought
(02:56):
that I was the criminal. I did not know, oh
who you were, but I was determined to find out,
excellent Watson. And how did you localize me? You saw me,
perhaps on the night of the convict hunt, when I
was so imprudent as to allow the moon to rise
behind me. Yes, I saw you then, and have no
(03:21):
doubt searched all the huts until you came to this one. No,
your boy had been observed, and that gave me a
guide where to look. The old gentleman with the telescope,
no doubt I could not make it out when first
I saw the light flashing upon the lens. He rose
(03:41):
and peeped into the hut. Ah, I see that Cartwright
has brought up some supplies. What's this paper? So you
have been to coom Tracy, have you? Yes to see
missus Laura Lyons? Exactly well done. Our researches have evidently
(04:02):
been running on parallel lines, and when we unite our results,
I expect we shall have a fairly full knowledge of
the case. Well, I am glad from my heart that
you are here, for indeed, the responsibility and the mystery
were both becoming too much for my nerves. But how
in the name of wonder did you come here? And
(04:24):
what have you been doing? I thought that you were
in Baker Street working out that case of blackmailing. That
was what I wished you to think. Then you use
me and yet do not trust me. I cried with
some bitterness. I think that I have deserved better at
your hands. Holmes, my dear fellow. You have been invaluable
(04:49):
to me in this as in many other cases, and
I beg that you will forgive me if I have
seemed to play a trick upon you. In truth, it
was partly for your own sake that I did it,
and it was my appreciation of the danger which you
ran which led me to come down and examine the
matter for myself. Had I been with Sir Henry and you,
(05:11):
it is confident that my point of view would have
been the same as yours, and my presence would have
warned our very formidable opponents to be on their guard.
As it is, I have been able to get about
as I could not possibly have done had I been
living in the hall, and I remain an unknown factor
in the business, ready to throw in all my weight
(05:32):
at a critical moment. But why keep me in the dark?
For you to know could not have helped us and
might possibly have led to my discovery. You would have
wished to tell me something, or in your kindness, you
would have brought me out some comfort or other, and
so an unnecessary risk would be run. I brought Cartwright
(05:57):
down with me. You remember the little chap at the
express office, and he has seen after my simple wants
a loaf of bread and a clean collar. What does
man want more? He has given me an extra pair
of eyes upon a very active pair of feet, and
both have been invaluable. Then my reports have all been wasted.
(06:23):
My voice trembled as I recalled the pains and the
pride with which I had composed them. Holmes took a
bundle of papers from his pocket. Here are your reports,
my dear fellow, and very well thumbed. I assure you
I made excellent arrangements, and they are only delayed one
(06:47):
day upon their way. I must compliment you exceedingly upon
the zeal and the intelligence which you have shown over
an extraordinarily difficult case. I was still rather raw over
the deception which had been practiced upon me, but the
warmth of Holmes's praise drove my anger from my mind.
(07:11):
I felt also in my heart that he was right
in what he said, and that it was really for
our purpose that I should not have known that he
was upon the moor. That's better, said he, seeing the
shadow rise from my face. And now tell me the
result of your visit to missus Laura Lyons. It was
(07:33):
not difficult for me to guess that it was to
see her that you had gone, for I am already
aware that she is the one person in Coombe Tracy
who might be of service to us in the matter.
In fact, if you had not gone to day, it
is exceedingly probable that I should have gone tomorrow. The
(07:54):
sun had set and dusk was settling over the moor.
The air had turned, and we withdrew into the hut
for warmth. There, sitting together in the twilight, I told
Holmes of my conversation with the lady. So interested was
he that I had to repeat some of it twice
(08:14):
before he was satisfied. This is most important, said he,
when I had concluded. It fills up a gap which
I have been unable to bridge in this most complex affair.
You are aware, perhaps that a close intimacy exists between
this lady and the man Stapleton. I did not know
(08:38):
of a close intimacy. There can be no doubt about
the matter. They meet, they write, there is a complete
understanding between them. Now this puts a very powerful weapon
into our hands, if I could only use it to
detach his wife his wife. I am giving you some
(09:00):
information now in return for all that you have given me.
The lady who has passed here as miss Stapleton, is
in reality his wife. Good Heavens, Holmes, are you sure
of what you say? How could he have permitted Sir
Henry to fall in love with her? Sir Henry's falling
(09:23):
in love could do no harm to any one except
Sir Henry. He took particular care that Sir Henry did
not make love to her, As you have yourself observed.
I repeat that the lady is his wife and not
his sister. But why this elaborate deception? Because he foresaw
(09:46):
that she would be very much more useful to him
in the character of a free woman. All my unspoken instincts,
my vague suspicions, suddenly took shape and centered upon the naturalist.
In that impassive colorless man with his straw hat and
his butterfly net I seem to see something terrible, a
(10:10):
creature of infinite patience and craft, with a smiling face
and a murderous heart. It is he, then, who is
our enemy. It is he who dogged us in London.
So I read the riddle and the warning. It must
have come from her, exactly the shape of some monstrous villainy,
(10:36):
half seen, half guessed, loomed through the darkness which had
girt me so long. But are you sure of this, Holmes?
How do you know that the woman is his wife?
Because he so far forgot himself as to tell you
a true piece of autobiography upon the occasion when he
first met you, and I dare say he has many
(10:58):
a time regret it. Since he was once a schoolmaster
in the North of England. Now there is no one
more easy to trace than a schoolmaster. There are scholastic
agencies by which one may identify any man who has
been in the profession. A little investigation showed me that
(11:19):
a school had come to grief under atrocious circumstances, and
that the man who had owned it the name was different,
had disappeared with his wife the descriptions agreed. When I
learned that the missing man was devoted to entomology, the
(11:40):
identification was complete. The darkness was rising, but much was
still hidden by the shadows. If this woman is, in
truth his wife, where does missus Laura Lyons come in?
I asked? That is one of the points upon which
she own researches have shed a light. Your interview with
(12:03):
the lady has cleared the situation very much. I did
not know about a projected divorce between herself and her husband.
In that case, regarding Stapleton as an unmarried man, she
counted no doubt upon becoming his wife. And when she
is undeceived, why then we may find the lady of service.
(12:27):
It must be our first duty to see her, both
of us tomorrow. Don't you think, Watson, that you are
away from your charge rather long? Your place should be
at Baskerville Hall. The last red streaks had faded away
in the west, and night had settled upon the moor.
A few faint stars were gleaming in a violet sky.
(12:52):
One last question, Holmes, I said, as I rose, surely
there is no need of secrecy between you and me.
What is the meaning of it all? What is he after?
Holmes's voice sank as he answered. It is murder, Watson refined,
(13:16):
cold blooded, deliberate murder. Do not ask me for particulars.
My nets are closing upon him, even as his are
upon Sir Henry, and with your help, he is already
almost at my mercy. There is but one danger which
can threaten us. It is that he should strike before
(13:40):
we are ready to do so. Another day too, at
the most, and I have my case complete. But until then, God,
your charge as closely as ever a fond mother watched
her ailing child. Your mission today has justified itself, And
yet I could almost wish that you had not left
(14:02):
his side. Hark. A terrible scream, a prolonged yell of
horror and anguish, burst out of the silence of the moor.
That frightful cry turned the blood to ice in my veins.
Oh my God, I gasped, what is it? What does
(14:26):
it mean? Holmes had sprung to his feet, and I
saw his dark athletic outline at the door of the hut,
his shoulder stooping, his head thrust forward, his face peering
into the darkness. Hush, he whispered, Hush. The cry had
been loud on account of its vehemence, But it had
(14:49):
peeled out from somewhere far off on the shadowy plain.
Now it burst upon our ears, nearer, louder, more urgent before.
Where is it? Holmes whispered, and I knew from the
thrill of his voice that he, the man of Iron,
(15:10):
was shaken to the soul. Where is it, Watson? There?
I think? I pointed into the darkness. No. There again,
the agonized.
Speaker 2 (15:23):
Cry swept with the silent night, louder and much nearer
than ever, and a new sound mingled with it, a deep,
muttered rumble, musical and yet menacing, rising and falling like
the low, constant murmur of the sea.
Speaker 1 (15:43):
Bound. Cried Holmes, Come, Watson, Come, great heavens, if we
are too late. He had started running swiftly over the moor,
and I had followed at his heels. But now, from
somewhere among the broken round immediately in front of us,
there came one last, despairing yell, and then a dull,
(16:07):
heavy thud. We halted and listened. Not another sound broke
the heavy silence of the windless night. I saw Holmes
put his hand to his forehead, like a man distracted
he stomped his feet upon the ground. He has been
in us, Watson, we are too late. No, no, surely
(16:33):
not fool that I was to hold my hand, and you, Watson,
see what comes of abandoning your charge. But by Heaven,
if the worst has happened, we'll avenge him. Blindly we
ran through the gloom, blundering against boulders, forcing our way
(16:54):
through gorse bushes, panting up hills, and rushing down slopes.
Had he always in the direction? Whence those dreadful sounds
had come at every rise? Holmes looked eagerly round him,
But the shadows were thick upon the moor, and nothing
moved upon its dreary face. Can you see anything? Nothing
(17:19):
but hark? What is that? A low moan had fallen
upon our ears? There it was again upon our left.
On that side a ridge of rocks ended in a
sheer cliff, which overlooked a stone strewn slope. On its
jagged face was spread eagled some dark, irregular object. As
(17:44):
we ran towards it, the vague outline hardened into a
definite shape. It was a prostrate man, face downward upon
the ground, the head doubled under him at a horrible angle,
the shoulders round it, and the body hunched together, as
if in the act of throwing a somersault. So grotesque
(18:07):
was the attitude that I could not, for the instant
realize that that moan had been the passing of his soul.
Not a whisper, not a rustle, rose now from the
dark figure over which we stooped. Holmes laid his hand
upon him, and held it up again with an exclamation
(18:28):
of horror. The gleam of the match which he struck
shone upon his clotted fingers, and upon the ghastly pool
which widened slowly from the crushed skull of the victim.
And it shone upon something else which turned our heart
sick and faint within us, the body of Sir Henry Baskerville.
(18:54):
There was no chance of either of us forgetting that
peculiar ruddy to eat suit, the very one which he
had worn on the first morning that we had seen
him in Backer Street. We caught the one clear glimpse
of it, and then the match flickered and went out,
even as the hope had gone out of our souls.
(19:16):
Holmes groaned, and his face glimmer white through the darkness.
The brute, the brute, I cried with clenched hands, Oh Holmes,
I shall never forgive myself for having left him to
his fate. I am more to blame than you, Watson.
(19:40):
In order to have my case well rounded and complete,
I have thrown away the life of my client. It
is the greatest blow which has befallen me in my career.
But how could I know? How could I know that
he would risk his life alone upon the moor, in
the face of all my warnings, that we should have
(20:04):
heard his screams, My God, those screams. They yet have
been unable to save him. Where is this brute of
a hound which drove him to his death? It may
be lurking among these rocks at this instant, and Stapleton,
where is he? He shall answer for this deed, he shall.
(20:28):
I will see to that uncle and nephew have been murdered,
the one frightened to death by the very sight of
a beast which he thought to be supernatural, the other
driven to his end and his wild flight to escape
from it. But now we have to prove the connection
between the man and the beast. Save from what we heard,
(20:51):
we cannot even swear to the existence of the latter,
since Sir Henry has evidently died from the fall. But
by heavens, gunning as he is, the Fellow shall be
in my power before another day has passed. We stood
with bitter hearts on either side of the mangled body,
(21:12):
overwhelmed by this sudden and irrevocable disaster which had brought
all our long and weary labors to so piteous an end.
Then as the moon rose, we climbed to the top
of the rocks over which our poor friend had fallen,
And from the summach we gazed out over the shadowy moor,
(21:35):
half silver and half gloom. Far away, miles off in
the direction of Grimpin, a single, steady yellow light was shining.
It could only come from the lonely abode of the Stapletons.
With a bitter curse, I shook my fist at it
(21:58):
as I gazed. Why should we not seize him at once?
Our case is not complete. The Fellow is wary and
cunning to the last degree. It is not what we know,
but what we can prove. If we make one false move,
(22:19):
the villain may escape us. Yet what can we do?
There will be plenty for us to do tomorrow to night.
We can only perform the last offices to our poor friend.
Together we made our way down the precipitous slope and
approached the body, black and clear against the silvered stones.
(22:42):
The agony of those contorted limbs struck me with a
spasm of pain and blurred my eyes with tears. We
must send for help, Holmes. We cannot carry him all
the way to the hall. Good heavens, are you mad?
He had uttered a cry and bent over the body.
(23:06):
Now he was dancing and laughing, and wringing my hand.
Could this be my stern self contained friend? These were
hidden fires? Indeed, appeard, appeard the hess a beard appeard.
(23:28):
It is not the baronet. It is why it is
my neighbor, the convict. With feverish haste, we had turned
the body over, and that dripping beard was pointing up
to the cold, clear moon. There could be no doubt
about the beetling forehead, the sunken animal eyes. It was
(23:52):
indeed the same face which had glared upon me in
the light of the candle from over the rock, the
face of Selden the criminal. Then in an instant it
was all clear to me. I remembered how the baronet
had told me that he had handed his old wardrobe
to Barrymore. Barrymore had passed it on in order to
(24:15):
help Selden in his escape boot's shirt cap. It was
all Sir Henry's. The tragedy was still black enough, but
this man had at least deserved death by the loss
of his country. I told Holmes how the matter stood,
my heart bubbling over with thankfulness and joy. Then the
(24:40):
clothes have been the poor devil's death, said he. It
is clear enough that the hound has been laid on
from some article of Sir Henry's, the boot which was
abstracted in the hotel in all probability, and so ran
this man down. There is one very singular thing, however,
(25:01):
how came Selden in the darkness to know that the
hound was on his trail? He heard him To hear
a hound upon the moor would not work a hard
man like this convict into such a paroxysm of terror
that he would risk recapture by screaming wildly for help.
(25:24):
By his cries, he must have run a long way
after he knew the animal was on his track. How
did he know a greater mystery to me is why
this hound? Presuming that all our conjectures are correct, I
presume nothing. Well, then why this hound should be loose tonight?
(25:46):
I suppose that it does not always run loose upon
the moor. Stapleton would not let it go unless he
had reason to think that Sir Henry would be there.
My difficulty is the more formidable of the two, for
I think that we shall very shortly get an explanation
of yours, while mine may remain forever a mystery. The
(26:09):
question now is what shall we do with this poor
wretch's body. We cannot leave it here to the foxes
and the ravens. I suggest that we put it in
one of the huts until we can communicate with the
police exactly. I have no doubt that you and I
could carry it so far. Hello Watson, what's this? It's
(26:32):
the man himself, by all that's wonderful and audacious. Not
a word to show your suspicions, Not a word, or
my plans crumble to the ground. A figure was approaching
us over the moor, and I saw the dull red
glow of a cigar. The moon shone upon him, and
(26:54):
I could distinguish the dappa shape and jaunty walk of
the naturalist. He stopped when he saw us, and then
came on again. Why, doctor Watson, that's not you, is it.
You are the last man that I should have expected
to see out on the moor at this time of night.
(27:14):
But dear me, what's this? Somebody hurt? Not? Don't tell
me that it is our friend, Sir Henry. He hurried
past me and stooped over the dead man. I heard
a sharp intake of his breath, and the cigar fell
from his fingers. Who Who's this? He stammered. It is Selden,
(27:40):
the man who escaped from Princetown. Stapleton turned a ghastly
face upon us, but by a supreme effort, he had
overcome his amazement and his disappointment. He looked sharply from
Holmes to me. Dear me, what a very shocking affair.
How did he die? He appears to have broken his
(28:02):
neck by falling over these rocks. My friend and I
were strolling on the moor when we heard a cry.
I heard a cry also. That was what brought me out.
I was uneasy about Sir Henry. Why about Sir Henry?
In particular, I could not help asking, because I had
(28:23):
suggested that he should come over. When he did not come,
I was surprised, and I naturally became alarmed for his safety.
When I heard cries upon the moor by the way,
his eyes darted again from my face to Holmes's. Did
you hear anything else besides a cry? No? Said Holmes,
(28:45):
Did you no? What do you mean? Then? Oh? You
know the stories that the peasants tell about a phantom
hound and so on. It is said to be heard
at night upon the more. I was wondering if there
were any evidence of such a sound to night. We
(29:06):
heard nothing of the kind, said I. And what is
your theory of this poor Phelip's death? I have no
doubt that anxiety and exposure have driven him off his head.
He has rushed about the moor in a crazy state,
and eventually fallen over here and broke in his neck.
(29:27):
That seems the most reasonable theory, said Stapleton, and he
gave a sigh, which I took to indicate his relief.
What do you think about it, mister Sherlock Holmes, my
friend bowed his compliments. You are quick at identification, said he.
(29:48):
We have been expecting you in these parts since doctor
Watson came down. You are in time to see a tragedy. Yes, indeed,
I have no doubt that my friend's explanation will cover
the facts. I will take an unpleasant remembrance back to
London with me tomorrow. Oh, you return tomorrow, that is
(30:11):
my intention. I hope your visit has cost some light
upon those occurrences which have puzzled us Homes shrugged his shoulders.
One cannot always have the success for which one hopes.
An investigator needs facts and not legends or rumors. It
has not been a satisfactory case. My friend spoke in
(30:35):
his frankest and most unconcerned manner. Stapleton still looked hard
at him. Then he turned to me. I would suggest
carrying this poor fellow to my house, but it would
give my sister such a fright that I do not
feel justified in doing it. I think that if we
(30:55):
put something over his face, he will be safe until morning,
and so it was arranged. Resisting Stapleton's offer of hospitality,
Holmes and I set off to Baskerville Hall, leaving the
naturalists to return alone. Looking back, we saw the figure
moving slowly away over the broad moor, and behind him
(31:19):
that one black smudge on the silvered slope, which showed
where the man was lying who had come so horribly
to his end. End of chapter twelve,
Chapter twelve 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, Death on the Moor. For a
(00:23):
moment or two, I sat breathless, hardly able to believe
my ears. Then my senses and my voice came back
to me, while a crushing weight of responsibility seemed in
an instant to be lifted from my soul. That cold, incisive,
ironical voice could belong to but one man in all
(00:45):
the world. Holmes, I cried. Holmes, come out, said he,
and please be careful with the revolver. I stooped under
the rude lintel, and there he sat upon a stone outside,
his gray eyes dancing with amusement as they fell upon
(01:06):
my astonished features. He was thin and worn, but clear
and alert, his keen face bronzed by the sun and
roughened by the wind. In his tweed suit and clock cap,
he looked like any other tourist upon the moor. And
he had contrived with that catlike glove of personal cleanliness,
(01:28):
which was one of his characteristics, that his chin should
be as smooth and his linen as perfect as if
he were in Baker Street. I never was more glad
to see any one in my life, said I as
I wrung him by the hand, or more astonished. Eh well,
(01:48):
I must confess to it. The surprise was not all
on one side. I assure you. I had no idea
that you had found my occasional retreat, still less that
you were inside it until I was within twenty paces
of the door. My footprint I presume no, Watson, I
(02:10):
fear that I could not undertake to recognize your footprint
amid all the footprints of the world. If you seriously
desire to deceive me, you must change your tobacconist. For
when I see the stub of a cigarette marked Bradley
Oxford Street, I know that my friend Watson is in
the neighborhood. You will see it there beside the path
(02:34):
you threw it down, no doubt. At the supreme moment
when you charged into the empty hut, exactly I thought
as much, and, knowing your admirable tenacity, I was convinced
that you were sitting in ambush, a weapon within reach,
waiting for the tenant to return. So you actually thought
(02:56):
that I was the criminal. I did not know, oh
who you were, but I was determined to find out,
excellent Watson. And how did you localize me? You saw me,
perhaps on the night of the convict hunt, when I
was so imprudent as to allow the moon to rise
behind me. Yes, I saw you then, and have no
(03:21):
doubt searched all the huts until you came to this one. No,
your boy had been observed, and that gave me a
guide where to look. The old gentleman with the telescope,
no doubt I could not make it out when first
I saw the light flashing upon the lens. He rose
(03:41):
and peeped into the hut. Ah, I see that Cartwright
has brought up some supplies. What's this paper? So you
have been to coom Tracy, have you? Yes to see
missus Laura Lyons? Exactly well done. Our researches have evidently
(04:02):
been running on parallel lines, and when we unite our results,
I expect we shall have a fairly full knowledge of
the case. Well, I am glad from my heart that
you are here, for indeed, the responsibility and the mystery
were both becoming too much for my nerves. But how
in the name of wonder did you come here? And
(04:24):
what have you been doing? I thought that you were
in Baker Street working out that case of blackmailing. That
was what I wished you to think. Then you use
me and yet do not trust me. I cried with
some bitterness. I think that I have deserved better at
your hands. Holmes, my dear fellow. You have been invaluable
(04:49):
to me in this as in many other cases, and
I beg that you will forgive me if I have
seemed to play a trick upon you. In truth, it
was partly for your own sake that I did it,
and it was my appreciation of the danger which you
ran which led me to come down and examine the
matter for myself. Had I been with Sir Henry and you,
(05:11):
it is confident that my point of view would have
been the same as yours, and my presence would have
warned our very formidable opponents to be on their guard.
As it is, I have been able to get about
as I could not possibly have done had I been
living in the hall, and I remain an unknown factor
in the business, ready to throw in all my weight
(05:32):
at a critical moment. But why keep me in the dark?
For you to know could not have helped us and
might possibly have led to my discovery. You would have
wished to tell me something, or in your kindness, you
would have brought me out some comfort or other, and
so an unnecessary risk would be run. I brought Cartwright
(05:57):
down with me. You remember the little chap at the
express office, and he has seen after my simple wants
a loaf of bread and a clean collar. What does
man want more? He has given me an extra pair
of eyes upon a very active pair of feet, and
both have been invaluable. Then my reports have all been wasted.
(06:23):
My voice trembled as I recalled the pains and the
pride with which I had composed them. Holmes took a
bundle of papers from his pocket. Here are your reports,
my dear fellow, and very well thumbed. I assure you
I made excellent arrangements, and they are only delayed one
(06:47):
day upon their way. I must compliment you exceedingly upon
the zeal and the intelligence which you have shown over
an extraordinarily difficult case. I was still rather raw over
the deception which had been practiced upon me, but the
warmth of Holmes's praise drove my anger from my mind.
(07:11):
I felt also in my heart that he was right
in what he said, and that it was really for
our purpose that I should not have known that he
was upon the moor. That's better, said he, seeing the
shadow rise from my face. And now tell me the
result of your visit to missus Laura Lyons. It was
(07:33):
not difficult for me to guess that it was to
see her that you had gone, for I am already
aware that she is the one person in Coombe Tracy
who might be of service to us in the matter.
In fact, if you had not gone to day, it
is exceedingly probable that I should have gone tomorrow. The
(07:54):
sun had set and dusk was settling over the moor.
The air had turned, and we withdrew into the hut
for warmth. There, sitting together in the twilight, I told
Holmes of my conversation with the lady. So interested was
he that I had to repeat some of it twice
(08:14):
before he was satisfied. This is most important, said he,
when I had concluded. It fills up a gap which
I have been unable to bridge in this most complex affair.
You are aware, perhaps that a close intimacy exists between
this lady and the man Stapleton. I did not know
(08:38):
of a close intimacy. There can be no doubt about
the matter. They meet, they write, there is a complete
understanding between them. Now this puts a very powerful weapon
into our hands, if I could only use it to
detach his wife his wife. I am giving you some
(09:00):
information now in return for all that you have given me.
The lady who has passed here as miss Stapleton, is
in reality his wife. Good Heavens, Holmes, are you sure
of what you say? How could he have permitted Sir
Henry to fall in love with her? Sir Henry's falling
(09:23):
in love could do no harm to any one except
Sir Henry. He took particular care that Sir Henry did
not make love to her, As you have yourself observed.
I repeat that the lady is his wife and not
his sister. But why this elaborate deception? Because he foresaw
(09:46):
that she would be very much more useful to him
in the character of a free woman. All my unspoken instincts,
my vague suspicions, suddenly took shape and centered upon the naturalist.
In that impassive colorless man with his straw hat and
his butterfly net I seem to see something terrible, a
(10:10):
creature of infinite patience and craft, with a smiling face
and a murderous heart. It is he, then, who is
our enemy. It is he who dogged us in London.
So I read the riddle and the warning. It must
have come from her, exactly the shape of some monstrous villainy,
(10:36):
half seen, half guessed, loomed through the darkness which had
girt me so long. But are you sure of this, Holmes?
How do you know that the woman is his wife?
Because he so far forgot himself as to tell you
a true piece of autobiography upon the occasion when he
first met you, and I dare say he has many
(10:58):
a time regret it. Since he was once a schoolmaster
in the North of England. Now there is no one
more easy to trace than a schoolmaster. There are scholastic
agencies by which one may identify any man who has
been in the profession. A little investigation showed me that
(11:19):
a school had come to grief under atrocious circumstances, and
that the man who had owned it the name was different,
had disappeared with his wife the descriptions agreed. When I
learned that the missing man was devoted to entomology, the
(11:40):
identification was complete. The darkness was rising, but much was
still hidden by the shadows. If this woman is, in
truth his wife, where does missus Laura Lyons come in?
I asked? That is one of the points upon which
she own researches have shed a light. Your interview with
(12:03):
the lady has cleared the situation very much. I did
not know about a projected divorce between herself and her husband.
In that case, regarding Stapleton as an unmarried man, she
counted no doubt upon becoming his wife. And when she
is undeceived, why then we may find the lady of service.
(12:27):
It must be our first duty to see her, both
of us tomorrow. Don't you think, Watson, that you are
away from your charge rather long? Your place should be
at Baskerville Hall. The last red streaks had faded away
in the west, and night had settled upon the moor.
A few faint stars were gleaming in a violet sky.
(12:52):
One last question, Holmes, I said, as I rose, surely
there is no need of secrecy between you and me.
What is the meaning of it all? What is he after?
Holmes's voice sank as he answered. It is murder, Watson refined,
(13:16):
cold blooded, deliberate murder. Do not ask me for particulars.
My nets are closing upon him, even as his are
upon Sir Henry, and with your help, he is already
almost at my mercy. There is but one danger which
can threaten us. It is that he should strike before
(13:40):
we are ready to do so. Another day too, at
the most, and I have my case complete. But until then, God,
your charge as closely as ever a fond mother watched
her ailing child. Your mission today has justified itself, And
yet I could almost wish that you had not left
(14:02):
his side. Hark. A terrible scream, a prolonged yell of
horror and anguish, burst out of the silence of the moor.
That frightful cry turned the blood to ice in my veins.
Oh my God, I gasped, what is it? What does
(14:26):
it mean? Holmes had sprung to his feet, and I
saw his dark athletic outline at the door of the hut,
his shoulder stooping, his head thrust forward, his face peering
into the darkness. Hush, he whispered, Hush. The cry had
been loud on account of its vehemence, But it had
(14:49):
peeled out from somewhere far off on the shadowy plain.
Now it burst upon our ears, nearer, louder, more urgent before.
Where is it? Holmes whispered, and I knew from the
thrill of his voice that he, the man of Iron,
(15:10):
was shaken to the soul. Where is it, Watson? There?
I think? I pointed into the darkness. No. There again,
the agonized.
Speaker 2 (15:23):
Cry swept with the silent night, louder and much nearer
than ever, and a new sound mingled with it, a deep,
muttered rumble, musical and yet menacing, rising and falling like
the low, constant murmur of the sea.
Speaker 1 (15:43):
Bound. Cried Holmes, Come, Watson, Come, great heavens, if we
are too late. He had started running swiftly over the moor,
and I had followed at his heels. But now, from
somewhere among the broken round immediately in front of us,
there came one last, despairing yell, and then a dull,
(16:07):
heavy thud. We halted and listened. Not another sound broke
the heavy silence of the windless night. I saw Holmes
put his hand to his forehead, like a man distracted
he stomped his feet upon the ground. He has been
in us, Watson, we are too late. No, no, surely
(16:33):
not fool that I was to hold my hand, and you, Watson,
see what comes of abandoning your charge. But by Heaven,
if the worst has happened, we'll avenge him. Blindly we
ran through the gloom, blundering against boulders, forcing our way
(16:54):
through gorse bushes, panting up hills, and rushing down slopes.
Had he always in the direction? Whence those dreadful sounds
had come at every rise? Holmes looked eagerly round him,
But the shadows were thick upon the moor, and nothing
moved upon its dreary face. Can you see anything? Nothing
(17:19):
but hark? What is that? A low moan had fallen
upon our ears? There it was again upon our left.
On that side a ridge of rocks ended in a
sheer cliff, which overlooked a stone strewn slope. On its
jagged face was spread eagled some dark, irregular object. As
(17:44):
we ran towards it, the vague outline hardened into a
definite shape. It was a prostrate man, face downward upon
the ground, the head doubled under him at a horrible angle,
the shoulders round it, and the body hunched together, as
if in the act of throwing a somersault. So grotesque
(18:07):
was the attitude that I could not, for the instant
realize that that moan had been the passing of his soul.
Not a whisper, not a rustle, rose now from the
dark figure over which we stooped. Holmes laid his hand
upon him, and held it up again with an exclamation
(18:28):
of horror. The gleam of the match which he struck
shone upon his clotted fingers, and upon the ghastly pool
which widened slowly from the crushed skull of the victim.
And it shone upon something else which turned our heart
sick and faint within us, the body of Sir Henry Baskerville.
(18:54):
There was no chance of either of us forgetting that
peculiar ruddy to eat suit, the very one which he
had worn on the first morning that we had seen
him in Backer Street. We caught the one clear glimpse
of it, and then the match flickered and went out,
even as the hope had gone out of our souls.
(19:16):
Holmes groaned, and his face glimmer white through the darkness.
The brute, the brute, I cried with clenched hands, Oh Holmes,
I shall never forgive myself for having left him to
his fate. I am more to blame than you, Watson.
(19:40):
In order to have my case well rounded and complete,
I have thrown away the life of my client. It
is the greatest blow which has befallen me in my career.
But how could I know? How could I know that
he would risk his life alone upon the moor, in
the face of all my warnings, that we should have
(20:04):
heard his screams, My God, those screams. They yet have
been unable to save him. Where is this brute of
a hound which drove him to his death? It may
be lurking among these rocks at this instant, and Stapleton,
where is he? He shall answer for this deed, he shall.
(20:28):
I will see to that uncle and nephew have been murdered,
the one frightened to death by the very sight of
a beast which he thought to be supernatural, the other
driven to his end and his wild flight to escape
from it. But now we have to prove the connection
between the man and the beast. Save from what we heard,
(20:51):
we cannot even swear to the existence of the latter,
since Sir Henry has evidently died from the fall. But
by heavens, gunning as he is, the Fellow shall be
in my power before another day has passed. We stood
with bitter hearts on either side of the mangled body,
(21:12):
overwhelmed by this sudden and irrevocable disaster which had brought
all our long and weary labors to so piteous an end.
Then as the moon rose, we climbed to the top
of the rocks over which our poor friend had fallen,
And from the summach we gazed out over the shadowy moor,
(21:35):
half silver and half gloom. Far away, miles off in
the direction of Grimpin, a single, steady yellow light was shining.
It could only come from the lonely abode of the Stapletons.
With a bitter curse, I shook my fist at it
(21:58):
as I gazed. Why should we not seize him at once?
Our case is not complete. The Fellow is wary and
cunning to the last degree. It is not what we know,
but what we can prove. If we make one false move,
(22:19):
the villain may escape us. Yet what can we do?
There will be plenty for us to do tomorrow to night.
We can only perform the last offices to our poor friend.
Together we made our way down the precipitous slope and
approached the body, black and clear against the silvered stones.
(22:42):
The agony of those contorted limbs struck me with a
spasm of pain and blurred my eyes with tears. We
must send for help, Holmes. We cannot carry him all
the way to the hall. Good heavens, are you mad?
He had uttered a cry and bent over the body.
(23:06):
Now he was dancing and laughing, and wringing my hand.
Could this be my stern self contained friend? These were
hidden fires? Indeed, appeard, appeard the hess a beard appeard.
(23:28):
It is not the baronet. It is why it is
my neighbor, the convict. With feverish haste, we had turned
the body over, and that dripping beard was pointing up
to the cold, clear moon. There could be no doubt
about the beetling forehead, the sunken animal eyes. It was
(23:52):
indeed the same face which had glared upon me in
the light of the candle from over the rock, the
face of Selden the criminal. Then in an instant it
was all clear to me. I remembered how the baronet
had told me that he had handed his old wardrobe
to Barrymore. Barrymore had passed it on in order to
(24:15):
help Selden in his escape boot's shirt cap. It was
all Sir Henry's. The tragedy was still black enough, but
this man had at least deserved death by the loss
of his country. I told Holmes how the matter stood,
my heart bubbling over with thankfulness and joy. Then the
(24:40):
clothes have been the poor devil's death, said he. It
is clear enough that the hound has been laid on
from some article of Sir Henry's, the boot which was
abstracted in the hotel in all probability, and so ran
this man down. There is one very singular thing, however,
(25:01):
how came Selden in the darkness to know that the
hound was on his trail? He heard him To hear
a hound upon the moor would not work a hard
man like this convict into such a paroxysm of terror
that he would risk recapture by screaming wildly for help.
(25:24):
By his cries, he must have run a long way
after he knew the animal was on his track. How
did he know a greater mystery to me is why
this hound? Presuming that all our conjectures are correct, I
presume nothing. Well, then why this hound should be loose tonight?
(25:46):
I suppose that it does not always run loose upon
the moor. Stapleton would not let it go unless he
had reason to think that Sir Henry would be there.
My difficulty is the more formidable of the two, for
I think that we shall very shortly get an explanation
of yours, while mine may remain forever a mystery. The
(26:09):
question now is what shall we do with this poor
wretch's body. We cannot leave it here to the foxes
and the ravens. I suggest that we put it in
one of the huts until we can communicate with the
police exactly. I have no doubt that you and I
could carry it so far. Hello Watson, what's this? It's
(26:32):
the man himself, by all that's wonderful and audacious. Not
a word to show your suspicions, Not a word, or
my plans crumble to the ground. A figure was approaching
us over the moor, and I saw the dull red
glow of a cigar. The moon shone upon him, and
(26:54):
I could distinguish the dappa shape and jaunty walk of
the naturalist. He stopped when he saw us, and then
came on again. Why, doctor Watson, that's not you, is it.
You are the last man that I should have expected
to see out on the moor at this time of night.
(27:14):
But dear me, what's this? Somebody hurt? Not? Don't tell
me that it is our friend, Sir Henry. He hurried
past me and stooped over the dead man. I heard
a sharp intake of his breath, and the cigar fell
from his fingers. Who Who's this? He stammered. It is Selden,
(27:40):
the man who escaped from Princetown. Stapleton turned a ghastly
face upon us, but by a supreme effort, he had
overcome his amazement and his disappointment. He looked sharply from
Holmes to me. Dear me, what a very shocking affair.
How did he die? He appears to have broken his
(28:02):
neck by falling over these rocks. My friend and I
were strolling on the moor when we heard a cry.
I heard a cry also. That was what brought me out.
I was uneasy about Sir Henry. Why about Sir Henry?
In particular, I could not help asking, because I had
(28:23):
suggested that he should come over. When he did not come,
I was surprised, and I naturally became alarmed for his safety.
When I heard cries upon the moor by the way,
his eyes darted again from my face to Holmes's. Did
you hear anything else besides a cry? No? Said Holmes,
(28:45):
Did you no? What do you mean? Then? Oh? You
know the stories that the peasants tell about a phantom
hound and so on. It is said to be heard
at night upon the more. I was wondering if there
were any evidence of such a sound to night. We
(29:06):
heard nothing of the kind, said I. And what is
your theory of this poor Phelip's death? I have no
doubt that anxiety and exposure have driven him off his head.
He has rushed about the moor in a crazy state,
and eventually fallen over here and broke in his neck.
(29:27):
That seems the most reasonable theory, said Stapleton, and he
gave a sigh, which I took to indicate his relief.
What do you think about it, mister Sherlock Holmes, my
friend bowed his compliments. You are quick at identification, said he.
(29:48):
We have been expecting you in these parts since doctor
Watson came down. You are in time to see a tragedy. Yes, indeed,
I have no doubt that my friend's explanation will cover
the facts. I will take an unpleasant remembrance back to
London with me tomorrow. Oh, you return tomorrow, that is
(30:11):
my intention. I hope your visit has cost some light
upon those occurrences which have puzzled us Homes shrugged his shoulders.
One cannot always have the success for which one hopes.
An investigator needs facts and not legends or rumors. It
has not been a satisfactory case. My friend spoke in
(30:35):
his frankest and most unconcerned manner. Stapleton still looked hard
at him. Then he turned to me. I would suggest
carrying this poor fellow to my house, but it would
give my sister such a fright that I do not
feel justified in doing it. I think that if we
(30:55):
put something over his face, he will be safe until morning,
and so it was arranged. Resisting Stapleton's offer of hospitality,
Holmes and I set off to Baskerville Hall, leaving the
naturalists to return alone. Looking back, we saw the figure
moving slowly away over the broad moor, and behind him
(31:19):
that one black smudge on the silvered slope, which showed
where the man was lying who had come so horribly
to his end. End of chapter twelve,
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