September 18, 2025 • 24 mins
10 - Extract from the Diary 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.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:01):
Chapter ten of The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
Read by Bob Newfeld. Chapter ten extracts from the diary
of Doctor Watson. So far I have been able to
(00:22):
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 few extracts from the latter will carry
(00:44):
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 convict, and
our other strange experiences upon the moor. October sixteenth, a
dull and foggy day with a drizzle of rain. The
(01:06):
house is 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. After the excitements of
(01:29):
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 of incidents which have all pointed
(01:50):
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 condition 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 ears heard the sound which resembled the
(02:12):
distant baying 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 fall in with such a superstition that Mortimer also.
(02:36):
But if I have one quality upon earth, it is
common sense, then 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 the mere fiend dog, but must needs describe
him with hell fire shooting from his mouth and eyes.
(02:57):
Holmes would not listen to such fancies, and I am
his agent. But facts are facts, and I have twice
heard the crying upon the moor. Suppose that there were
really some huge hound loose upon it? That would go
far to explain everything. But where could such a hound
(03:18):
lie concealed? Where did it get its food? Where did
it come from? How is it that no one saw
it by day? It must be confessed that the natural
explanation offers almost as many difficulties as the other. And
always apart from the hound, there is the fact of
the human agency in London, the man in the cab,
(03:40):
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 has he followed us down here?
Could he be the stranger whom I saw upon the tour.
(04:03):
It is true that I have had only the 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. 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
(04:25):
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 can lay my hands
upon that man, then at last we might find ourselves
at the end of all of our difficulties. To this
(04:48):
one purpose. I must now devote all my energies. My
first impulse was to tell Sir Henry all my plans.
My second and why one is to play my own
game and speak as little as possible to any one.
He is silent and distraight. His nerves have been strangely
(05:10):
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 asked leave
to speak with Sir Henry, and they were closeted in
his study some little time. Sitting in the billiard room,
(05:33):
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. Barrymore considers that he
has a grievance. He said. He thinks it was unfair
on our part to hunt his brother in law down
(05:54):
when he, of his own free will, had told us
the secret. The butler was standing very pale, but very
collected before us. I may have spoken too warmly, sir,
said he, And if I have, I am sure that
I beg your pardon. At the same time, I was
(06:15):
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 the baronet. You only told us, or
(06:36):
rather your wife only told us, when it was forced
from you, and you cannot help yourself. I didn't think
you would have taken advantage of it, Sir Henry. Indeed
I didn't. 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
(06:59):
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. He'll break into
no house, Sir. I give you my solemn word upon that.
But he will never trouble any one in the country again.
(07:21):
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 is still on the moor. They have given
up the chase there and he can lie quiet until
(07:42):
the ship is ready for them. 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 By shrugged my shoulders. If he
were safely out of the country, it would bring leave
the taxpayer of a burden. But how about the chance
(08:03):
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 the show where he is hiding. That
is true, said Sir Henry Well, Barrymore. God bless you, sir,
and thank you from my heart. It would have killed
(08:26):
my poor wife had he been taken again. I guess
we are aiding in a betting of felony Watson. But
after what we have heard, I don't feel as if
I could give the man up. So there is an
end of it, all right, Barrymore, You can go with
a few broken words of gratitude. The man turned, but
(08:48):
he hesitated and then came back. You have 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 said it before,
but it was long after the inquest that I found
it out. I've never breathed a word about it yet
(09:09):
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 know that.
What then I know why he was at the gate
at that hour. It was to meet a woman. To
(09:33):
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 initials. Her initials were L L. And
how do you know this Barrymore? Well, Sir, Henry, your
(09:54):
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 every one
who was in trouble was glad to turn to him.
But that morning, as it chanced, there was only this
one letter, so I took the more notice of it.
It was from Coombe Tracy, and it was addressed in
(10:16):
a woman's hand. Well well, sir, I thought no more
of the matter, and never would have 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 found the ashes of
a burned letter in the back of the grate. The
(10:37):
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 black ground. It seemed to us to be
a PostScript at the end of the letter, and it said, please, please,
as you are a gentleman, burn this letter and be
(10:58):
at the gate by ten o'clock. Beneath it we assigned
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 letters in the same writing, Well, Sir,
I took no particular notice of his letters. I should
(11:21):
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 that if
we could lay our hands upon that lady, we should
know more about Sir Charles's death. I cannot understand, barrymore.
(11:41):
How you come 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 that he has done for us. To rake this
up couldn't help our poor master. And it's well to
(12:04):
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
if it would be treating you unfairly not to tell
you all that I know about the matter. Very good, barrymore,
(12:27):
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 we
can only trace l L it should clear up the
(12:48):
whole business. We have gained that much. We know that
there is someone 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 been seeking.
I am much mistaken if it does not bring him down.
(13:10):
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 the information which
I had supplied, and hardly any reference to my mission.
No doubt, his blackmailing case is absorbing all his faculties,
(13:34):
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 rain poured down,
rustling on the ivy and dripping from the eaves. I
thought of the convict out upon the bleak, cold, shelterless war,
(13:58):
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 against the moon.
Was he also out there in that deluge, the unseen watcher,
the man of darkness. In the evening, I put on
(14:19):
my waterproof and walked far upon the sodden moor, full
of dark imaginings, the rain beating upon my face and
the wind whistling about my ears. God help 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
(14:42):
its craggy summit, I looked out myself across the melancholy downs.
Rain squalls drifted across their russet face, 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,
(15:05):
the two thin towers of Baskerville Hall rose above the trees.
They were the only signs of human 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,
(15:29):
I was overtaken by doctor Mortimer, driving in his dog
cart over a rough moorland track which led from the
outlying farmhouse of fowl Mire. 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
(15:50):
dog cart, and he gave me a lift homeward. 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 mire,
and I do not fancy that he will see his
(16:11):
little dog again. By the way, Mortimer 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
(16:32):
L L? He thought for a few minutes. No, said he.
There are a few gypsies and laboring folks 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, with a pause, There is Laura Lyons. Her
(16:53):
initials are l L, but she lives in Coombe. Tracy,
who is she? I asked? She is Franklin's daughter? What
old Franklin the crank? Exactly? She married an artist named
Lyons who came sketching on the moor. He proved to
be a blackguard and deserted her. The fault, from what
(17:16):
I hear, may not have been entirely. On one side,
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 and the young one, the girl has had
a pretty bad time. How does she live? I fancy
(17:40):
Old Franklin allows her a pittance, but it cannot be more,
for his own affairs are considerably involved. Whatever she may
have deserved, one could not allow her to go hopelessly
to the band. Her story got about, and several of
the people here did something to enable her to earn
an honest living. Stapleton did for one answer Charles for another.
(18:06):
I gave a trifle myself. It 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 Coombe Tracy.
(18:28):
And if I can see this, 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
(18:49):
casually to what type Franklin's skull belonged, 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
(19:12):
just now, which gives me one more 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. Well said, I,
(19:33):
has this precious relation 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 have 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,
(19:55):
But the food was gone. When next I went that way,
then he was certainly there, so you would think, sir,
unless it was the other man who took it. I
sat with my coffee cup half way to my lips
and stared at Barrymore. You know that there is another man? Then, yes, sir,
(20:17):
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 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,
(20:39):
I tell you straight, sir, that I don't like it,
he spoke, with a sudden passion of earnestness. Now listen
to me, Barymon. 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,
(21:04):
as if he regretted his outburst or found 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 forced the moor. There's
foul play somewhere, and there's black villainy brewing to that.
(21:24):
I'll swear very glad I should be, sir to see
Sir 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 on the moor at night. There's
not a man would cross an after sundown if he
(21:46):
was paid for it. Look at this stranger hiding 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 Askerville, And very glad I shall
be to be quit of it all on the day
that Sir Henry's new servants are ready to take over
(22:08):
the hall. But what about this stranger? Said? I can
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, but he
is a deep one and gives nothing away. At first
he thought that he was the police, but soon he
(22:30):
found that he had some lay of his own, a
kind of gentleman. He was as far as he could see.
But what he was doing he could not make out.
And where did he say? That? He lived? Among the
old houses on the hillside, the stone huts where the
old folk used to live. But what about his food?
(22:52):
Selden found out that he has got a lad who
works for him and brings him all he needs. I
dare say he goes to comb Tracy for what he wants.
Very good, barrymon, We may 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
(23:13):
pane at the driving clouds and at the tossing outline
of the wind swept trees. It was a wild night indoors.
And what must it be in a stone hut upon
the moor? What passion of 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
(23:34):
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 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 by Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
Read by Bob Newfeld. Chapter ten extracts from the diary
of Doctor Watson. So far I have been able to
(00:22):
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 few extracts from the latter will carry
(00:44):
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 convict, and
our other strange experiences upon the moor. October sixteenth, a
dull and foggy day with a drizzle of rain. The
(01:06):
house is 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. After the excitements of
(01:29):
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 of incidents which have all pointed
(01:50):
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 condition 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 ears heard the sound which resembled the
(02:12):
distant baying 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 fall in with such a superstition that Mortimer also.
(02:36):
But if I have one quality upon earth, it is
common sense, then 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 the mere fiend dog, but must needs describe
him with hell fire shooting from his mouth and eyes.
(02:57):
Holmes would not listen to such fancies, and I am
his agent. But facts are facts, and I have twice
heard the crying upon the moor. Suppose that there were
really some huge hound loose upon it? That would go
far to explain everything. But where could such a hound
(03:18):
lie concealed? Where did it get its food? Where did
it come from? How is it that no one saw
it by day? It must be confessed that the natural
explanation offers almost as many difficulties as the other. And
always apart from the hound, there is the fact of
the human agency in London, the man in the cab,
(03:40):
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 has he followed us down here?
Could he be the stranger whom I saw upon the tour.
(04:03):
It is true that I have had only the 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. 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
(04:25):
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 can lay my hands
upon that man, then at last we might find ourselves
at the end of all of our difficulties. To this
(04:48):
one purpose. I must now devote all my energies. My
first impulse was to tell Sir Henry all my plans.
My second and why one is to play my own
game and speak as little as possible to any one.
He is silent and distraight. His nerves have been strangely
(05:10):
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 asked leave
to speak with Sir Henry, and they were closeted in
his study some little time. Sitting in the billiard room,
(05:33):
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. Barrymore considers that he
has a grievance. He said. He thinks it was unfair
on our part to hunt his brother in law down
(05:54):
when he, of his own free will, had told us
the secret. The butler was standing very pale, but very
collected before us. I may have spoken too warmly, sir,
said he, And if I have, I am sure that
I beg your pardon. At the same time, I was
(06:15):
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 the baronet. You only told us, or
(06:36):
rather your wife only told us, when it was forced
from you, and you cannot help yourself. I didn't think
you would have taken advantage of it, Sir Henry. Indeed
I didn't. 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
(06:59):
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. He'll break into
no house, Sir. I give you my solemn word upon that.
But he will never trouble any one in the country again.
(07:21):
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 is still on the moor. They have given
up the chase there and he can lie quiet until
(07:42):
the ship is ready for them. 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 By shrugged my shoulders. If he
were safely out of the country, it would bring leave
the taxpayer of a burden. But how about the chance
(08:03):
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 the show where he is hiding. That
is true, said Sir Henry Well, Barrymore. God bless you, sir,
and thank you from my heart. It would have killed
(08:26):
my poor wife had he been taken again. I guess
we are aiding in a betting of felony Watson. But
after what we have heard, I don't feel as if
I could give the man up. So there is an
end of it, all right, Barrymore, You can go with
a few broken words of gratitude. The man turned, but
(08:48):
he hesitated and then came back. You have 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 said it before,
but it was long after the inquest that I found
it out. I've never breathed a word about it yet
(09:09):
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 know that.
What then I know why he was at the gate
at that hour. It was to meet a woman. To
(09:33):
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 initials. Her initials were L L. And
how do you know this Barrymore? Well, Sir, Henry, your
(09:54):
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 every one
who was in trouble was glad to turn to him.
But that morning, as it chanced, there was only this
one letter, so I took the more notice of it.
It was from Coombe Tracy, and it was addressed in
(10:16):
a woman's hand. Well well, sir, I thought no more
of the matter, and never would have 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 found the ashes of
a burned letter in the back of the grate. The
(10:37):
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 black ground. It seemed to us to be
a PostScript at the end of the letter, and it said, please, please,
as you are a gentleman, burn this letter and be
(10:58):
at the gate by ten o'clock. Beneath it we assigned
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 letters in the same writing, Well, Sir,
I took no particular notice of his letters. I should
(11:21):
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 that if
we could lay our hands upon that lady, we should
know more about Sir Charles's death. I cannot understand, barrymore.
(11:41):
How you come 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 that he has done for us. To rake this
up couldn't help our poor master. And it's well to
(12:04):
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
if it would be treating you unfairly not to tell
you all that I know about the matter. Very good, barrymore,
(12:27):
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 we
can only trace l L it should clear up the
(12:48):
whole business. We have gained that much. We know that
there is someone 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 been seeking.
I am much mistaken if it does not bring him down.
(13:10):
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 the information which
I had supplied, and hardly any reference to my mission.
No doubt, his blackmailing case is absorbing all his faculties,
(13:34):
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 rain poured down,
rustling on the ivy and dripping from the eaves. I
thought of the convict out upon the bleak, cold, shelterless war,
(13:58):
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 against the moon.
Was he also out there in that deluge, the unseen watcher,
the man of darkness. In the evening, I put on
(14:19):
my waterproof and walked far upon the sodden moor, full
of dark imaginings, the rain beating upon my face and
the wind whistling about my ears. God help 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
(14:42):
its craggy summit, I looked out myself across the melancholy downs.
Rain squalls drifted across their russet face, 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,
(15:05):
the two thin towers of Baskerville Hall rose above the trees.
They were the only signs of human 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,
(15:29):
I was overtaken by doctor Mortimer, driving in his dog
cart over a rough moorland track which led from the
outlying farmhouse of fowl Mire. 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
(15:50):
dog cart, and he gave me a lift homeward. 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 mire,
and I do not fancy that he will see his
(16:11):
little dog again. By the way, Mortimer 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
(16:32):
L L? He thought for a few minutes. No, said he.
There are a few gypsies and laboring folks 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, with a pause, There is Laura Lyons. Her
(16:53):
initials are l L, but she lives in Coombe. Tracy,
who is she? I asked? She is Franklin's daughter? What
old Franklin the crank? Exactly? She married an artist named
Lyons who came sketching on the moor. He proved to
be a blackguard and deserted her. The fault, from what
(17:16):
I hear, may not have been entirely. On one side,
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 and the young one, the girl has had
a pretty bad time. How does she live? I fancy
(17:40):
Old Franklin allows her a pittance, but it cannot be more,
for his own affairs are considerably involved. Whatever she may
have deserved, one could not allow her to go hopelessly
to the band. Her story got about, and several of
the people here did something to enable her to earn
an honest living. Stapleton did for one answer Charles for another.
(18:06):
I gave a trifle myself. It 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 Coombe Tracy.
(18:28):
And if I can see this, 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
(18:49):
casually to what type Franklin's skull belonged, 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
(19:12):
just now, which gives me one more 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. Well said, I,
(19:33):
has this precious relation 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 have 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,
(19:55):
But the food was gone. When next I went that way,
then he was certainly there, so you would think, sir,
unless it was the other man who took it. I
sat with my coffee cup half way to my lips
and stared at Barrymore. You know that there is another man? Then, yes, sir,
(20:17):
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 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,
(20:39):
I tell you straight, sir, that I don't like it,
he spoke, with a sudden passion of earnestness. Now listen
to me, Barymon. 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,
(21:04):
as if he regretted his outburst or found 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 forced the moor. There's
foul play somewhere, and there's black villainy brewing to that.
(21:24):
I'll swear very glad I should be, sir to see
Sir 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 on the moor at night. There's
not a man would cross an after sundown if he
(21:46):
was paid for it. Look at this stranger hiding 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 Askerville, And very glad I shall
be to be quit of it all on the day
that Sir Henry's new servants are ready to take over
(22:08):
the hall. But what about this stranger? Said? I can
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, but he
is a deep one and gives nothing away. At first
he thought that he was the police, but soon he
(22:30):
found that he had some lay of his own, a
kind of gentleman. He was as far as he could see.
But what he was doing he could not make out.
And where did he say? That? He lived? Among the
old houses on the hillside, the stone huts where the
old folk used to live. But what about his food?
(22:52):
Selden found out that he has got a lad who
works for him and brings him all he needs. I
dare say he goes to comb Tracy for what he wants.
Very good, barrymon, We may 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
(23:13):
pane at the driving clouds and at the tossing outline
of the wind swept trees. It was a wild night indoors.
And what must it be in a stone hut upon
the moor? What passion of 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
(23:34):
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 shall not have passed before
I have done all that man can do to reach
the heart of the mystery. End of Chapter ten.
Popular Podcasts
On Purpose with Jay Shetty
I’m Jay Shetty host of On Purpose the worlds #1 Mental Health podcast and I’m so grateful you found us. I started this podcast 5 years ago to invite you into conversations and workshops that are designed to help make you happier, healthier and more healed. I believe that when you (yes you) feel seen, heard and understood you’re able to deal with relationship struggles, work challenges and life’s ups and downs with more ease and grace. I interview experts, celebrities, thought leaders and athletes so that we can grow our mindset, build better habits and uncover a side of them we’ve never seen before. New episodes every Monday and Friday. Your support means the world to me and I don’t take it for granted — click the follow button and leave a review to help us spread the love with On Purpose. I can’t wait for you to listen to your first or 500th episode!
Stuff You Should Know
If you've ever wanted to know about champagne, satanism, the Stonewall Uprising, chaos theory, LSD, El Nino, true crime and Rosa Parks, then look no further. Josh and Chuck have you covered.
Dateline NBC
Current and classic episodes, featuring compelling true-crime mysteries, powerful documentaries and in-depth investigations. Follow now to get the latest episodes of Dateline NBC completely free, or subscribe to Dateline Premium for ad-free listening and exclusive bonus content: DatelinePremium.com