September 18, 2025 • 18 mins
08 - First Report of Dr. Watson. The Hound of The Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
The Hound of the Baskervilles is the third of the four crime novels written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle featuring the detective Sherlock Holmes. Originally serialised in The Strand Magazine from August 1901 to April 1902, it is set largely on Dartmoor in Devon in England's West Country and tells the story of an attempted murder inspired by the legend of a fearsome, diabolical hound of supernatural origin. Sherlock Holmes and his companion Dr. Watson investigate the case. This was the first appearance of Holmes since his intended death in "The Final Problem", and the success of The Hound of the Baskervilles led to the character's eventual revival.
The Hound of the Baskervilles is the third of the four crime novels written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle featuring the detective Sherlock Holmes. Originally serialised in The Strand Magazine from August 1901 to April 1902, it is set largely on Dartmoor in Devon in England's West Country and tells the story of an attempted murder inspired by the legend of a fearsome, diabolical hound of supernatural origin. Sherlock Holmes and his companion Dr. Watson investigate the case. This was the first appearance of Holmes since his intended death in "The Final Problem", and the success of The Hound of the Baskervilles led to the character's eventual revival.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter eight of The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
Read by bobneyfound chapter eight, first report of Doctor Watson.
From this point onward, I will follow the course of
(00:23):
events by transcribing my own letters to mister Sherlock Holmes,
which lie before me on the table. One page is missing,
but otherwise they are exactly as written, and show my
feelings and suspicions of the moment more accurately than my memory,
clear as it is upon these tragic events can possibly do.
(00:46):
Paskerville Hall, October thirteenth, My dear Holmes, my previous letters
and telegrams have kept you pretty well up to date
as to all that has occurred in this most god
forsaken corner of the world. The longer one stays here,
the more does the spirit of the moor sink into
one's soul, its vastness and also its grim charm. When
(01:12):
you are once out upon its bosom, you have left
all traces of modern England behind you. But on the
other hand, you are conscious everywhere of the homes and
the work of the prehistoric people on all sides. Of you.
As you walk are the houses of these forgotten folk,
with their graves and the huge monoliths which are supposed
(01:34):
to have marked their temples. As you look at their
gray stone huts against the scarred hillsides, you leave your
own age behind you, And if you were to see
a skin clad hairy man crawl out from the low door,
fitting a flint tipped arrow on to the string of
his bow, you would feel that his presence there was
more natural than your own. The strange thing is that
(01:58):
they should have lived so so thickly on what must
always have been most unfruitful soil. I am no antiquarian,
but I could imagine that they were some unwarlike and
harried race who were forced to accept that which none
other would occupy. All this, however, is foreign to the
(02:19):
mission on which you set me, and will probably be
very uninteresting to your severely practical mind. I can still
remember your complete indifference as to whether the Sun moved
round the earth or the Earth round the Sun. Let
me therefore returned the facts concerning Sir Henry Baskerville. If
(02:40):
you have not had any report within the last few days,
it is because up to to day there was nothing
of importance to relate. Then, a very surprising circumstance occurred,
which I shall tell you in due course. But first
of all I must keep you in touch with some
of the other factors in the situation. One of these,
(03:03):
concerning which I have said little is the escaped convict
upon the moor. There is strong reason now to believe
that he has got right away, which is a considerable
relief to the lonely householders of this district. A fortnight
has passed since his flight, during which he has not
been seen, and nothing has been heard of him. It
(03:26):
is surely inconceivable that he could have held out upon
the moor during all that time. Of course, so far
as his concealment goes, there is no difficulty at all.
Any one of these stone huts would give him a
hiding place, but there is nothing to eat unless he
would catch and slaughter one of the moor sheep. We think, therefore,
(03:48):
that he has gone, and the outlying farmers sleep the better.
In consequence, we are four able bodied men in this household,
so that we could take good care of ourselves. But
I confess that I have had uneasy moments when I
have thought of the Stapletons. They live miles from any hope.
(04:09):
There are one maid, an old man servant, the sister,
and the brother, the latter not a very strong man.
They would be helpless in the hands of a desperate
fellow like this notting Hill criminal if he could once
effect an entrance. Both Sir Henry and I were concerned
at their situation, and it was suggested that Perkins the
(04:32):
groom should go over to sleep there, but Stapleton would
not hear of it. The fact is that our friend
the Baronet begins to display a considerable interest in our
fair neighbor. It is not to be wondered at, for
time hangs heavily in this lonely spots to an active
man like him, And she is a very fascinating and
(04:55):
beautiful woman. There is something tropical and exotic about her
which forms a singular contrast to her cool and unemotional brother.
Yet he also gives the idea of hidden fires. He
has certainly a very marked influence over her, for I
(05:15):
have seen her continually glance at him as she talked,
as if seeking approbation for what she said. I trust
that he is kind to her. There is a dry
glitter in his eyes, and a firm set of his
thin lips, which goes with a positive and possibly a
harsh nature. You would find him an interesting study. He
(05:39):
came over to call upon Baskerville on that first day,
and the very next morning he took us both to
show us the spot where the legend of the Wicked
Hugo is supposed to have had its origin. It was
an excursion of some miles across the moor to a
place which is so dismal that it might have suggested
the story, on a short valley between rugged tors, which
(06:02):
led to an open, grassy space flecked over with the
white cotton grass. In the middle of it rose two
great stones, worn and sharpened at the upper end until
they looked like the huge, corroding fangs of some monstrous beast.
In every way it corresponded with the scene of the
old tragedy. Sir Henry was much interested, and asked Stapleton
(06:27):
more than once whether he did really believe in the
possibility of the interference of the supernatural in the affairs
of men. He spoke lightly, but it was evident that
he was very much in earnest. Stapleton was guarded in
his replies, but it was easy to see that he
had said less than he might, and that he would
(06:49):
not express his whole opinion out of consideration for the
feelings of the baronet. He told us of similar cases
where families had suffered from some evil inn influence, and
he left us with the impression that he shared the
popular view upon the matter. On our way back, we
stayed for lunch at Merrippet House, and it was there
(07:11):
that Sir Henry made the acquaintance of Miss Stapleton. From
the first moment that he saw her, he appeared to
be strongly attracted by her, and I am much mistaken
if the feeling was not mutual. He referred to again
and again in our walk home, and since then hardly
a day has passed that we have not seen something
(07:34):
of the brother and sister. They dine here to night,
and there is some talk of our going to them
next week. One would imagine that such a match would
be very welcome to Stapleton, and yet I have more
than once caught a look of the strongest disapprobation in
his face. When Sir Henry has been paying some attention
(07:54):
to his sister. He is much attached to her in
her doubts, and would lead a lonely life without her.
But it would seem the height of selfishness if he
were to stand in the way of her making so
brilliant a marriage. Yet I am certain that he does
not wish their intimacy to ripen into love, and I
(08:14):
have several times observed that he has taken pains to
prevent them from being tete a tete. By the way,
your instructions to me never to allow Sir Henry to
get out alone, will become very much more onerous if
a love affair were to be added to our other difficulties.
My popularity would soon suffer if I were to carry
(08:36):
out your orders to the latter. The other day, Thursday,
to be more exact, Doctor Mortimer lunched with us. He
has been excavating a barrow at Longdown and has got
a prehistoric skuwl, which fills him with great joy. Never
was there such a single minded enthusiast as he. The
(08:58):
Stapletons came in afterwards, and the good Doctor took us
all to the u alley at Sir Henry's request, to
show us exactly how everything occurred upon that fatal night
It is a long, dismal walk the u alley, between
two high walls of clipped hedge, with a narrow band
(09:19):
of grass upon either side. At the far end is
an old tumble down summer house. Halfway down is the
moor gate where the old gentleman left his cigar ash.
It is a white wooden gate with a latch. Beyond
it lies the wide moor. I remembered your theory of
(09:40):
the affair and tried to picture all that had occurred.
As the old man stood there, he saw something coming
across the moor, something which terrified him so that he
lost his wits and ran and ran until he died
of sheer horror and exhaustion. There was the long, gloomy
(10:00):
tunnel down which he fled. And from what a sheep
dog of the moor or a spectral hound, black, silent
and monstrous? Was there a human agency in the matter?
Did the pale, watchful barymore? No more than he care
to say. It was all dam and vague, but always
(10:23):
there is the dark shadow of crime behind it. One
other neighbor I have met since I wrote last. This
is mister Franklin of Laughter Hall, who lives some four
miles to the south of us. He is an elderly man,
red faced, white haired, and choleric. His passion is for
(10:44):
the British law, and he has spent a large fortune
in litigation. He fights for the mere pleasure of fighting,
and is equally ready to take up either side of
a question, so that it is no wonder that he
has found it a course amusement. Sometimes he will shut
up a right of way and defy the parish to
(11:05):
make him open it. At others he will with his
own hands tear down some other man's gait and declare
that a path has existed there from time immemorial, defying
the owner to prosecute him for trespass. He is learned
at old manorial and communal rights, and he applies his knowledge,
(11:25):
sometimes in favor of the villagers of Fernworthy, and sometimes
against them, so that he is periodically either carried in
triumph down the village street, or else burn an effigy.
According to his latest exploit, he is said to have
about seven lawsuits upon his hands at present, which will
(11:46):
probably swallow up the remainder of his fortune, and so
draw his sting and leave him harmless for the future.
Apart from the law. He seems a kindly good natured person,
and I only mentioned him because you were particular that
I should send some description of the people who surround us.
He is curiously employed at present for being an amateur astronomer.
(12:11):
He has an excellent telescope with which he lies upon
the roof of his own house and sweeps the moor
all day in the hope of catching a glimpse of
the escaped convict. If he would confine his energies to this,
all would be well. But there are rumors that he
intends to prosecute Doctor Mortimer for opening a grave without
(12:33):
the consent of the next of kin, because he dug
up the neolithic skull in the barrow on long Down.
He helps to keep our eyes from being monotonous, and
gives a little comic relief where it is badly needed.
And now, having brought you up to date in the
Escaped Convict, the Stapletons, Doctor Mortimer, and Franklin of laughter Hall,
(12:56):
let me end on that which is most important until
you more about the Barymours, and especially about the surprising
development of last night. First of all, about the test
telegram which you sent from London, in order to make
sure that Barymore was really here. I have already explained
(13:16):
that the testimony of the postmaster shows that the test
was worthless, and that we have no proof one way
or the other. I told Sir Henry how the matter stood,
and he, at once, in his downright fashion, had Barymore
up and asked him whether he had received the telegram himself.
Barymore said that he had. Did the boy deliver it
(13:39):
into your own hands? Asked Sir Henry. Barrymore looked surprised
and considered for a little time. No, said he. I
was in the box room at the time, and my
wife brought it up to me. Did you answer it yourself? No?
I told my wife what to answer, and she went
(14:02):
down to write it. In the evening, he recurred to
the subject of his own accord. I could not understand
the objects of your questions this morning, Sir Henry said, he.
I trust that they do not mean that I have
done anything to forfeit your confidence. Sir Henry had to
(14:23):
assure him that it was not so, and pacify him
by giving him a considerable part of his old wardrobe.
The London outfit having now all arrived. Missus Barrymore is
of interest to me. She is a heavy, solid person,
very limited, intensely respectable, and inclined to be puritanical. You
(14:47):
could hardly conceive a less emotional subject. Yet I have
told you how on the first night here I heard
her sobbing bitterly, and since then I have more than
once observed races of tears upon her face. Some deep
sorrow gnaws ever at her heart. Sometimes I wonder if
(15:08):
she has a guilty memory which wants her. And sometimes
I suspect Barrymore of being a domestic tyrant. I have
always felt that there was something singular and questionable in
this man's character. But the adventure of last night brings
all my suspicions to a head. And yet it may
(15:28):
seem a small matter in itself. You are aware that
I am not a very sound sleeper, and since I
have been on God in this house, my slumbers have
been lighter than ever. Last night, about two in the morning,
I was aroused by a stealthy step passing my room.
I rose, opened my door and peeped out. A long
(15:51):
black shadow was trailing down the corridor. It was thrown
by a man who walked softly down the passage with
a candell held in his hand. He was in shirt
and trousers, with no covering to his feet. I could
merely see the outline, but his height told me it
was Barrymore. He walked very slowly and circumspectly, and there
(16:16):
was something indescribably guilty and furtive in his whole appearance.
I have told you that the corridor is broken by
the balcony which runs round the hall, but that it
is resumed upon the farther side. I waited until he
had passed out of sight, and then I followed him.
(16:37):
When I came round the balcony, he had reached the
end of the farther corridor, and I could see from
the glimmer of light through an open door that he
had entered one of the rooms. Now, all these rooms
are unfurnished and unoccupied, so that his expedition became more
mysterious than ever. The light shone steadily, as if he
(16:59):
were standing motionless. I crept down the passage as noiselessly
as I could, and peeped round the corner of the door.
Barrymore was crouching at the window with his candle held
against the glass. His profile was half turned towards me,
and his face seemed to be rigid with expectation as
(17:20):
he stared out into the blackness of the moor. For
some minutes, he stood watching intently. Then he gave a
deep groan, and with an impatient gesture, he put out
the light. Instantly. I made my way back to my room,
and very shortly came the stealthy steps, passing once more
(17:42):
upon their return journey. Long afterwards, when I had fallen
into a light sleep, I heard a key turn somewhere
in a lock, but I could not tell whence the
sound came. What it all means I cannot guess. But
there is some sea quit business going on in this
house of gloom, which sooner or later, we shall get
(18:05):
to the bottom of. I do not trouble you with
my theories, for you asked me to furnish you only
with facts. I have had a long talk with Sir
Henry this morning, and we have made a plan of
campaign founded upon my observations of last night. I will
not speak about it just now, but it should make
(18:26):
my next report interesting reading end of chapter eight
Chapter eight of The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
Read by bobneyfound chapter eight, first report of Doctor Watson.
From this point onward, I will follow the course of
(00:23):
events by transcribing my own letters to mister Sherlock Holmes,
which lie before me on the table. One page is missing,
but otherwise they are exactly as written, and show my
feelings and suspicions of the moment more accurately than my memory,
clear as it is upon these tragic events can possibly do.
(00:46):
Paskerville Hall, October thirteenth, My dear Holmes, my previous letters
and telegrams have kept you pretty well up to date
as to all that has occurred in this most god
forsaken corner of the world. The longer one stays here,
the more does the spirit of the moor sink into
one's soul, its vastness and also its grim charm. When
(01:12):
you are once out upon its bosom, you have left
all traces of modern England behind you. But on the
other hand, you are conscious everywhere of the homes and
the work of the prehistoric people on all sides. Of you.
As you walk are the houses of these forgotten folk,
with their graves and the huge monoliths which are supposed
(01:34):
to have marked their temples. As you look at their
gray stone huts against the scarred hillsides, you leave your
own age behind you, And if you were to see
a skin clad hairy man crawl out from the low door,
fitting a flint tipped arrow on to the string of
his bow, you would feel that his presence there was
more natural than your own. The strange thing is that
(01:58):
they should have lived so so thickly on what must
always have been most unfruitful soil. I am no antiquarian,
but I could imagine that they were some unwarlike and
harried race who were forced to accept that which none
other would occupy. All this, however, is foreign to the
(02:19):
mission on which you set me, and will probably be
very uninteresting to your severely practical mind. I can still
remember your complete indifference as to whether the Sun moved
round the earth or the Earth round the Sun. Let
me therefore returned the facts concerning Sir Henry Baskerville. If
(02:40):
you have not had any report within the last few days,
it is because up to to day there was nothing
of importance to relate. Then, a very surprising circumstance occurred,
which I shall tell you in due course. But first
of all I must keep you in touch with some
of the other factors in the situation. One of these,
(03:03):
concerning which I have said little is the escaped convict
upon the moor. There is strong reason now to believe
that he has got right away, which is a considerable
relief to the lonely householders of this district. A fortnight
has passed since his flight, during which he has not
been seen, and nothing has been heard of him. It
(03:26):
is surely inconceivable that he could have held out upon
the moor during all that time. Of course, so far
as his concealment goes, there is no difficulty at all.
Any one of these stone huts would give him a
hiding place, but there is nothing to eat unless he
would catch and slaughter one of the moor sheep. We think, therefore,
(03:48):
that he has gone, and the outlying farmers sleep the better.
In consequence, we are four able bodied men in this household,
so that we could take good care of ourselves. But
I confess that I have had uneasy moments when I
have thought of the Stapletons. They live miles from any hope.
(04:09):
There are one maid, an old man servant, the sister,
and the brother, the latter not a very strong man.
They would be helpless in the hands of a desperate
fellow like this notting Hill criminal if he could once
effect an entrance. Both Sir Henry and I were concerned
at their situation, and it was suggested that Perkins the
(04:32):
groom should go over to sleep there, but Stapleton would
not hear of it. The fact is that our friend
the Baronet begins to display a considerable interest in our
fair neighbor. It is not to be wondered at, for
time hangs heavily in this lonely spots to an active
man like him, And she is a very fascinating and
(04:55):
beautiful woman. There is something tropical and exotic about her
which forms a singular contrast to her cool and unemotional brother.
Yet he also gives the idea of hidden fires. He
has certainly a very marked influence over her, for I
(05:15):
have seen her continually glance at him as she talked,
as if seeking approbation for what she said. I trust
that he is kind to her. There is a dry
glitter in his eyes, and a firm set of his
thin lips, which goes with a positive and possibly a
harsh nature. You would find him an interesting study. He
(05:39):
came over to call upon Baskerville on that first day,
and the very next morning he took us both to
show us the spot where the legend of the Wicked
Hugo is supposed to have had its origin. It was
an excursion of some miles across the moor to a
place which is so dismal that it might have suggested
the story, on a short valley between rugged tors, which
(06:02):
led to an open, grassy space flecked over with the
white cotton grass. In the middle of it rose two
great stones, worn and sharpened at the upper end until
they looked like the huge, corroding fangs of some monstrous beast.
In every way it corresponded with the scene of the
old tragedy. Sir Henry was much interested, and asked Stapleton
(06:27):
more than once whether he did really believe in the
possibility of the interference of the supernatural in the affairs
of men. He spoke lightly, but it was evident that
he was very much in earnest. Stapleton was guarded in
his replies, but it was easy to see that he
had said less than he might, and that he would
(06:49):
not express his whole opinion out of consideration for the
feelings of the baronet. He told us of similar cases
where families had suffered from some evil inn influence, and
he left us with the impression that he shared the
popular view upon the matter. On our way back, we
stayed for lunch at Merrippet House, and it was there
(07:11):
that Sir Henry made the acquaintance of Miss Stapleton. From
the first moment that he saw her, he appeared to
be strongly attracted by her, and I am much mistaken
if the feeling was not mutual. He referred to again
and again in our walk home, and since then hardly
a day has passed that we have not seen something
(07:34):
of the brother and sister. They dine here to night,
and there is some talk of our going to them
next week. One would imagine that such a match would
be very welcome to Stapleton, and yet I have more
than once caught a look of the strongest disapprobation in
his face. When Sir Henry has been paying some attention
(07:54):
to his sister. He is much attached to her in
her doubts, and would lead a lonely life without her.
But it would seem the height of selfishness if he
were to stand in the way of her making so
brilliant a marriage. Yet I am certain that he does
not wish their intimacy to ripen into love, and I
(08:14):
have several times observed that he has taken pains to
prevent them from being tete a tete. By the way,
your instructions to me never to allow Sir Henry to
get out alone, will become very much more onerous if
a love affair were to be added to our other difficulties.
My popularity would soon suffer if I were to carry
(08:36):
out your orders to the latter. The other day, Thursday,
to be more exact, Doctor Mortimer lunched with us. He
has been excavating a barrow at Longdown and has got
a prehistoric skuwl, which fills him with great joy. Never
was there such a single minded enthusiast as he. The
(08:58):
Stapletons came in afterwards, and the good Doctor took us
all to the u alley at Sir Henry's request, to
show us exactly how everything occurred upon that fatal night
It is a long, dismal walk the u alley, between
two high walls of clipped hedge, with a narrow band
(09:19):
of grass upon either side. At the far end is
an old tumble down summer house. Halfway down is the
moor gate where the old gentleman left his cigar ash.
It is a white wooden gate with a latch. Beyond
it lies the wide moor. I remembered your theory of
(09:40):
the affair and tried to picture all that had occurred.
As the old man stood there, he saw something coming
across the moor, something which terrified him so that he
lost his wits and ran and ran until he died
of sheer horror and exhaustion. There was the long, gloomy
(10:00):
tunnel down which he fled. And from what a sheep
dog of the moor or a spectral hound, black, silent
and monstrous? Was there a human agency in the matter?
Did the pale, watchful barymore? No more than he care
to say. It was all dam and vague, but always
(10:23):
there is the dark shadow of crime behind it. One
other neighbor I have met since I wrote last. This
is mister Franklin of Laughter Hall, who lives some four
miles to the south of us. He is an elderly man,
red faced, white haired, and choleric. His passion is for
(10:44):
the British law, and he has spent a large fortune
in litigation. He fights for the mere pleasure of fighting,
and is equally ready to take up either side of
a question, so that it is no wonder that he
has found it a course amusement. Sometimes he will shut
up a right of way and defy the parish to
(11:05):
make him open it. At others he will with his
own hands tear down some other man's gait and declare
that a path has existed there from time immemorial, defying
the owner to prosecute him for trespass. He is learned
at old manorial and communal rights, and he applies his knowledge,
(11:25):
sometimes in favor of the villagers of Fernworthy, and sometimes
against them, so that he is periodically either carried in
triumph down the village street, or else burn an effigy.
According to his latest exploit, he is said to have
about seven lawsuits upon his hands at present, which will
(11:46):
probably swallow up the remainder of his fortune, and so
draw his sting and leave him harmless for the future.
Apart from the law. He seems a kindly good natured person,
and I only mentioned him because you were particular that
I should send some description of the people who surround us.
He is curiously employed at present for being an amateur astronomer.
(12:11):
He has an excellent telescope with which he lies upon
the roof of his own house and sweeps the moor
all day in the hope of catching a glimpse of
the escaped convict. If he would confine his energies to this,
all would be well. But there are rumors that he
intends to prosecute Doctor Mortimer for opening a grave without
(12:33):
the consent of the next of kin, because he dug
up the neolithic skull in the barrow on long Down.
He helps to keep our eyes from being monotonous, and
gives a little comic relief where it is badly needed.
And now, having brought you up to date in the
Escaped Convict, the Stapletons, Doctor Mortimer, and Franklin of laughter Hall,
(12:56):
let me end on that which is most important until
you more about the Barymours, and especially about the surprising
development of last night. First of all, about the test
telegram which you sent from London, in order to make
sure that Barymore was really here. I have already explained
(13:16):
that the testimony of the postmaster shows that the test
was worthless, and that we have no proof one way
or the other. I told Sir Henry how the matter stood,
and he, at once, in his downright fashion, had Barymore
up and asked him whether he had received the telegram himself.
Barymore said that he had. Did the boy deliver it
(13:39):
into your own hands? Asked Sir Henry. Barrymore looked surprised
and considered for a little time. No, said he. I
was in the box room at the time, and my
wife brought it up to me. Did you answer it yourself? No?
I told my wife what to answer, and she went
(14:02):
down to write it. In the evening, he recurred to
the subject of his own accord. I could not understand
the objects of your questions this morning, Sir Henry said, he.
I trust that they do not mean that I have
done anything to forfeit your confidence. Sir Henry had to
(14:23):
assure him that it was not so, and pacify him
by giving him a considerable part of his old wardrobe.
The London outfit having now all arrived. Missus Barrymore is
of interest to me. She is a heavy, solid person,
very limited, intensely respectable, and inclined to be puritanical. You
(14:47):
could hardly conceive a less emotional subject. Yet I have
told you how on the first night here I heard
her sobbing bitterly, and since then I have more than
once observed races of tears upon her face. Some deep
sorrow gnaws ever at her heart. Sometimes I wonder if
(15:08):
she has a guilty memory which wants her. And sometimes
I suspect Barrymore of being a domestic tyrant. I have
always felt that there was something singular and questionable in
this man's character. But the adventure of last night brings
all my suspicions to a head. And yet it may
(15:28):
seem a small matter in itself. You are aware that
I am not a very sound sleeper, and since I
have been on God in this house, my slumbers have
been lighter than ever. Last night, about two in the morning,
I was aroused by a stealthy step passing my room.
I rose, opened my door and peeped out. A long
(15:51):
black shadow was trailing down the corridor. It was thrown
by a man who walked softly down the passage with
a candell held in his hand. He was in shirt
and trousers, with no covering to his feet. I could
merely see the outline, but his height told me it
was Barrymore. He walked very slowly and circumspectly, and there
(16:16):
was something indescribably guilty and furtive in his whole appearance.
I have told you that the corridor is broken by
the balcony which runs round the hall, but that it
is resumed upon the farther side. I waited until he
had passed out of sight, and then I followed him.
(16:37):
When I came round the balcony, he had reached the
end of the farther corridor, and I could see from
the glimmer of light through an open door that he
had entered one of the rooms. Now, all these rooms
are unfurnished and unoccupied, so that his expedition became more
mysterious than ever. The light shone steadily, as if he
(16:59):
were standing motionless. I crept down the passage as noiselessly
as I could, and peeped round the corner of the door.
Barrymore was crouching at the window with his candle held
against the glass. His profile was half turned towards me,
and his face seemed to be rigid with expectation as
(17:20):
he stared out into the blackness of the moor. For
some minutes, he stood watching intently. Then he gave a
deep groan, and with an impatient gesture, he put out
the light. Instantly. I made my way back to my room,
and very shortly came the stealthy steps, passing once more
(17:42):
upon their return journey. Long afterwards, when I had fallen
into a light sleep, I heard a key turn somewhere
in a lock, but I could not tell whence the
sound came. What it all means I cannot guess. But
there is some sea quit business going on in this
house of gloom, which sooner or later, we shall get
(18:05):
to the bottom of. I do not trouble you with
my theories, for you asked me to furnish you only
with facts. I have had a long talk with Sir
Henry this morning, and we have made a plan of
campaign founded upon my observations of last night. I will
not speak about it just now, but it should make
(18:26):
my next report interesting reading end of chapter eight
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