12 - Death on the Moor. The Hound of The Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

12 - Death on the Moor. 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.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter twelve of the Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
Read by Bomnefeld, Chapter twelve, Death on the Moor. For
a moment or two, I sat breathless, hardly able to

(00:22):
believe my ears. Then my senses and my voice came
back to me, while a crushing weight of a responsibility
seemed in an instant to be lifted from my soul.
That cold, incisive, ironical voice could belong to but one
man in all the world. Holmes, I cried, Holmes, come out,

(00:46):
said he, and please be careful with that 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 my astonished features. He was thin and worn,

(01:06):
but clear and alert, his keen face bronzed by the
sun and roughened by the wind. In his tweed suits
and cloth cap, he looked like any other tourist upon
the moor. And he had contrived, with that catlike love
of personal cleanliness, which was one of his characteristics, that
his chin should be as smooth and his linen as

(01:28):
perfect as if he were in Baker Street. I never
was more glad to see anyone in my life, said I,
as I wrung him by the hand, poor more astonished.
Eh well, I must confess to it. The surprise was
not all on one side. I assure you. I had

(01:48):
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 fear that I could not undertake to recognize your
footprint amid all the footprints of the world. If you

(02:08):
seriously desire to deceive me, you must change your tobacconist.
For when I saw the stub of a cigarette marked
Bradley Oxford Street, I knew that my friend Watson is
in the neighborhood. You will see it there beside the path.
You threw it down, no doubt at that supreme moment
when you charged into the empty hut, exactly I thought

(02:34):
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
that I was the criminal. I did not know who
you were, but I was determined to find out, excellent Watson,

(02:55):
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 doubt searched all
the huts until you came to this one. No, your
boy had been observed, and that gave me a guide

(03:17):
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 and
peeped into the hut. Ha, I see that Cartwright has
brought up some supplies. What's this paper? So you have
been to Combe Tracey? Have you yes to see missus

(03:40):
Laura Lyons? Exactly well done. Our researchers have evidently been
running along parallel lines, and when we unite our results,
I expect we shall have a fairly full knowledge of
the case. Well, I am glad for my heart that
you are here, for indeed, the responsibility and the mystery

(04:02):
were both becoming too much for my nerves. But how
in the name of wonder did you come here and
what have you been doing? I thought that you were
in Baker Street working out that case of the blackmailing.
That is what I wished you to think. Then you
use me and yet do not trust me. I cried

(04:22):
with some bitterness. I think that I had deserved better
at your hands. Holmes, my dear fellow, you have been
invaluable 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,

(04:45):
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,
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.

(05:05):
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
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

(05:29):
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
cart right 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

(05:52):
extra pair of eyes upon a very active pair of feet,
and both have been invariable. Then my reports have all
been wasted. My voice trembled as I recalled the pains
and the pride with which I had composed them. Holmes
touck a bundle of papers from his pocket. Here are
your reports, my dear fellow, and very well thumbed. I

(06:16):
assure you I made excellent arrangements, and they are only
delayed one 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,

(06:36):
but the warmth of Holmes's praise drove my anger from
my mind. I felt also in my heart that he
was right in what he said, and that it was
really best 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

(06:57):
me the result of your visit to missus law alliance.
It was 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
Combe 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.

(07:19):
The sun had set and dusk was settling over the moor.
The air had turned chilled, 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 before he was satisfied. This is most important, said he,

(07:43):
when I had concluded. It fills up a gap which
I had 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
of a close intimacy. There can be no doubt about
the matter. They meet, they write, there is a complete

(08:06):
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
information now in return for all that you have given me.
The lady who has passed here as miss Stapleton, is

(08:27):
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
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,

(08:49):
I repeat that the lady is his wife and not
his sister. But why this elaborate deception? Because he foresaw
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.

(09:13):
In that impassive, colorless man with his straw hat and
his butterfly net I seemed to see something terrible, a
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.

(09:35):
So I read the riddle and the warning. It must
have come from her, exactly the shape of some monstrous villainy,
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?

(09:58):
Because he's so far a got 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 a time regretted 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

(10:20):
scholastic agencies by which one may identify any man who
has been in the profession. A little investigation showed me
that 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.

(10:41):
When I learned that the missing man was devoted to entomology.
The 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

(11:03):
your own researches have shed a light. Your interview with
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

(11:24):
is undeceived, why then we may find the lady of service.
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

(11:46):
in the west, and night had settled upon the moor.
A few faint stars were gleaming in a violet sky.
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?

(12:07):
Holmes's voice sank as he answered, it is murder. Watson refined,
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

(12:28):
almost at my mercy. There is but one danger which
can threaten us. It is that he should strike before
we are ready to do so. Another day, two the most,
and I have my case complete. But until then, guard
your charge as closely as ever a fond mother watched

(12:48):
her ailing child. Your mission to day has justified itself,
and yet I could almost wish that you had not
left 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

(13:11):
in my veins. Oh my god, I gasped, what is it?
What does it mean? Holmes had sprung to his feet,
and I saw his dark athletic outline at the door
of the hut, his shoulders stooping, his head thrust forward,
his face peering into the darkness. Hush, he whispered, Hush.

(13:34):
The cry had been loud on account of its vehemence,
but it peeled out from somewhere far off on the
shadowy plain. Now it burst upon our ears, nearer, louder,
more urgent than before. Where is it? Holmes whispered, and
I knew from the thrill of his voice that he,

(13:54):
the man of Iron, was shaken to the soul. Where
is it, Watson? There, I think, I pointed into the darkness. No.
There again, the agonized cry swept through the silent night,
louder and much nearer than ever, and a new sound

(14:14):
mingled with it, a deep, muttered rumble, musical and yet menacing,
rising and falling like the low, constant murmur of the sea.
The hound cried, Holmes, come watch it, come, great heavens,
if we are too late. He had started running swiftly
over the moor, and I had followed at his heels.

(14:37):
But now, from somewhere among the broken ground, immediately in
front of us, there came one last, despairing yell, and
then a dull, 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

(14:58):
a man distracted. He stamped his feet upon the ground.
He has beaten us, Watson, we are too late. No, no,
surely 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.

(15:24):
Blindly we ran through the gloom, blundering across boulders, forcing
our way through gorse bushes, panting up hills, and rushing
down slopes, heading 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

(15:46):
moved upon its dreary face. Can you see anything? Nothing
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

(16:07):
jagged face was spread eagled some dark, irregular object. As
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 rounded and the body hunched together, as if

(16:29):
in the act of throwing a somersault. So grotesque was
the attitude that I could not for an instant realize
that that moon 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

(16:49):
upon him, and held it up again with an exclamation
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 hearts
sick and fate within us, the body of Sir Henry Baskerville.

(17:17):
There was no chance of either of us forgetting that
peculiar ruddy tweed suit, the very one which he had
worn on the first morning that we had seen him
in Baker 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. Holmes groaned

(17:38):
when his face glimmered 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. In order
to have my case well rounded and complete, I have

(18:01):
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 heard
his screams, My God, those screams, and yet have been

(18:25):
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.
I will see to that uncle and nephew have been murdered,

(18:47):
the one frightened to death by the very sight of
a beast which he thought to be supernatural, the other
driven to his end in his wild flight to escape
from it. But now we have to prove the connection
between the man and the beast. Say, from what we heard,
we cannot even swear to the existence of the latter.

(19:07):
Since Sir Henry has evidently died from the fall. But
by Heavens, cunning as he is, the Fellow shall be
in my power. Before another days passed. We stood with
bitter hearts on either side of the mangled body, overwhelmed
by this sudden and irrevocable disaster which had brought all

(19:30):
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 summits we gazed out over the shadowy moor,
half silver and half gloom. Far away, miles off in
the direction of Grimpen, a single, steady yellow light was shining.

(19:55):
It could only come from the lonely abode of the Stapleton's.
With a bitter cur I shook my fist at it
as I gazed. Why should we not seize him at once?
My case is not complete. The Fellow is wary and
cunning to the last degree. It's not what we know,

(20:15):
but what we can prove. If we make one false move,
the villain may escape us. Yet what can we do?
There will be plenty for us to do tomorrow tonight.
We can only perform the last offices to our poor friend.
Together we made our way down the precipitous slope and

(20:36):
approached the body, black and clear against the silvered stone.
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?

(20:59):
He had uttered a cry and bent over the body.
Now he was dancing and laughing and wringing my hand.
Could this be my stern self contained friend? These were
hidden fires? Indeed, a beard, a beard. The man has
a beard. A beard. It is not the baronet, it

(21:23):
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 indeed the same face which had glared upon

(21:44):
me in the light of the candle from over the rock,
the voice 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 help Selden in his escape. Boots, shirt cap It

(22:07):
was all Sir Henry's. The tragedy was still black enough,
but this man had at least deserved death by the
laws of his country. I told Holmes how the matter stood,
my heart bubbling over with thankfulness and joy. Then the
clothes have been the poor devil's death, said he. It

(22:29):
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,
how came Selden, in the darkness to know that the
hound was on his trail? He heard him? To hear

(22:53):
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.
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

(23:14):
this hound? Presuming that all our conjectures are correct, I
presume nothing. Well, then, why this hound should be loose
to night? 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,

(23:38):
for I think that we shall very shortly get an
explanation of yours, while mine may remain forever a mystery.
The 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

(23:59):
the police exactly. I have no doubt that you and
I could carry it so far. Hallo Watson, what's this?
It's the man himself, by all that's wonderful and audacious.
Not her word to show your suspicions. Not her word
or my plans crumble to the ground. A figure was

(24:21):
approaching us over the moor. When I saw the dull
red glow of a cigar. The moon shone upon him,
and I could distinguish the dapper 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

(24:42):
have expected to see out on the moor at this
time of night. 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 shot intake of his breath, and the
cigar fell from his fingers. Who's this? He stammered. It

(25:08):
is Selden, the man who escaped from Princetown stabledon 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

(25:33):
broken his 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. But I was uneasy about Sir Henry.
Why about Sir Henry in particular? I could not help
asking because I had suggested that he should come over.

(25:55):
When he did not come, I was surprised, and I
naturally became alarmed for his sake. When I heard cries
upon the moor by the way, his eyes darted again
from my face to Holmes. Did you hear anything else
besides a cry? No? Said Holmes, did you no? What

(26:17):
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 moor.
I was wondering if there were any evidence of such
a sound to night. We heard nothing of the kind,
said I. And what is your theory about this poor

(26:41):
fellow'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 broken his neck. That seems to be the
most reasonable theory, said Stapleton, and he gave a sigh,
which I took to indicate his relief. What do you

(27:06):
think about it, mister Sherlock Holmes, My friend bowed his compliments.
You are quick identification, said he. We have been expecting
you in these parts since doctor Watson came here. You
are in time to see a tragedy. Yes, indeed, I
have no doubt my friend's explanation will cover the facts.

(27:29):
I will take an unpleasant remembrance back to London with
me tomorrow. Oh, he returned tomorrow. That is my intention.
I hope your visit has cast some light upon these
occurrences which have puzzled us. Holmes shrugged his shoulders. One
cannot always have the success for which one hopes an

(27:51):
investigator needs facts and not legends or rumors. It has
not been a satisfactory case, my friend's spoke in 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

(28:12):
sister such a fright that I do not feel justified
in doing it. I think that if we 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

(28:36):
slowly away over the broad moor, and behind him 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,