Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Hound of the Baskervilles Chapter 8 FIRST REPORT OF DR. WATSON

FROM this point onward I will follow the course of events by transcribingmy own letters to Mr. Sherlock Holmes which lie before me on the table.One page is missing, but otherwise they are exactly as written and showmy feelings and suspicions of the moment more accurately than mymemory, clear as it is upon these tragic events, can possibly do.Baskerville Hall, October 13th.MY DEAR HOLMES:My previous letters and telegrams have kept you pretty well up to dateas 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 intoone's soul, its vastness, and also its grim charm. When you are once outupon its bosom you have left all traces of modern England behind you,but, on the other hand, you are conscious everywhere of the homes andthe work of the prehistoric people. On all sides of you as you walk are thehouses of these forgotten folk, with their graves and the huge monolithswhich are supposed to have marked their temples. As you look at theirgray stone huts against the scarred hillsides you leave your own agebehind you, and if you were to see a skin-clad, hairy man crawl out fromthe low door, fitting a flint-tipped arrow on to the string of his bow, youwould feel that his presence there was more natural than your own. Thestrange thing is that they should have lived so thickly on what mustalways have been most [713] unfruitful soil. I am no antiquarian, but Icould imagine that they were some unwarlike and harried race who wereforced to accept that which none other would occupy.All this, however, is foreign to the mission on which you sent me andwill probably be very uninteresting to your severely practical mind. I canstill remember your complete indifference as to whether the sun movedround the earth or the earth round the sun. Let me, therefore, return to thefacts concerning Sir Henry Baskerville.If you have not had any report within the last few days it is because upto to-day there was nothing of importance to relate. Then a verysurprising 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 inthe situation.One of these, concerning which I have said little, is the escaped convictupon the moor. There is strong reason now to believe that he has got rightaway, which is a considerable relief to the lonely householders of thisdistrict. A fortnight has passed since his flight, during which he has not been seen and nothing has been heard of him. It is surely inconceivablethat 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 ofthese stone huts would give him a hiding-place. But there is nothing to eatunless he were to catch and slaughter one of the moor sheep. We think,therefore, that he has gone, and the outlying farmers sleep the better inconsequence.We are four able-bodied men in this household, so that we could takegood care of ourselves, but I confess that I have had uneasy momentswhen I have thought of the Stapletons. They live miles from any help.There are one maid, an old manservant, the sister, and the brother, thelatter not a very strong man. They would be helpless in the hands of adesperate fellow like this Notting Hill criminal if he could once effect anentrance. Both Sir Henry and I were concerned at their situation, and itwas suggested that Perkins the groom should go over to sleep there, butStapleton would not hear of it.The fact is that our friend, the baronet, begins to display a considerableinterest in our fair neighbour. It is not to be wondered at, for time hangsheavily in this lonely spot to an active man like him, and she is a veryfascinating and beautiful woman. There is something tropical and exoticabout her which forms a singular contrast to her cool and unemotionalbrother. Yet he also gives the idea of hidden fires. He has certainly a verymarked influence over her, for I have seen her continually glance at himas she talked as if seeking approbation for what she said. I trust that he iskind 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 findhim an interesting study.He came over to call upon Baskerville on that first day, and the verynext morning he took us both to show us the spot where the legend of thewicked Hugo is supposed to have had its origin. It was an excursion ofsome miles across the moor to a place which is so dismal that it mighthave suggested the story. We found a short valley between rugged torswhich led to an open, grassy space flecked over with the white cottongrass. In the middle of it rose two great stones, worn and sharpened at theupper end until they looked like the huge corroding fangs of somemonstrous beast. In every way it corresponded with the scene of the oldtragedy. Sir Henry was much interested and asked Stapleton more thanonce whether he did really believe in the possibility of the interference ofthe supernatural [714] in the affairs of men. He spoke lightly, but it wasevident that he was very much in earnest. Stapleton was guarded in hisreplies, but it was easy to see that he said less than he might, and that hewould not express his whole opinion out of consideration for the feelingsof the baronet. He told us of similar cases, where families had sufferedfrom some evil influence, and he left us with the impression that heshared the popular view upon the matter.On our way back we stayed for lunch at Merripit House, and it wasthere that Sir Henry made the acquaintance of Miss Stapleton. From thefirst 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 heragain and again on our walk home, and since then hardly a day has passedthat we have not seen something of the brother and sister. They dine here to-night, and there is some talk of our going to them next week. Onewould imagine that such a match would be very welcome to Stapleton,and yet I have more than once caught a look of the strongestdisapprobation in his face when Sir Henry has been paying some attentionto his sister. He is much attached to her, no doubt, and would lead alonely life without her, but it would seem the height of selfishness if hewere to stand in the way of her making so brilliant a marriage. Yet I amcertain that he does not wish their intimacy to ripen into love, and I haveseveral times observed that he has taken pains to prevent them from beingtete-a-tete. By the way, your instructions to me never to allow Sir Henryto go out alone will become very much more onerous if a love affair wereto be added to our other difficulties. My popularity would soon suffer if Iwere to carry out your orders to the letter.The other day-Thursday, to be more exact-Dr. Mortimer lunched withus. He has been excavating a barrow at Long Down and has got aprehistoric skull which fills him with great joy. Never was there such asingle-minded enthusiast as he! The Stapletons came in afterwards, andthe good doctor took us all to the yew alley at Sir Henry's request to showus exactly how everything occurred upon that fatal night. It is a long,dismal walk, the yew alley, between two high walls of clipped hedge,with a narrow band of grass upon either side. At the far end is an oldtumble-down summer-house. Halfway down is the moor-gate, where theold 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 the affair andtried to picture all that had occurred. As the old man stood there he sawsomething coming across the moor, something which terrified him so thathe lost his wits and ran and ran until he died of sheer horror andexhaustion. There was the long, gloomy tunnel down which he fled. Andfrom 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 Barrymore know more than he cared to say? It was all dim andvague, but always there is the dark shadow of crime behind it.One other neighbour I have met since I wrote last. This is Mr.Frankland, of Lafter Hall, who lives some four miles to the south of us.He is an elderly man, red-faced, white-haired, and choleric. His passion isfor the British law, and he has spent a large fortune in litigation. He fightsfor the mere pleasure of fighting and is equally ready to take up eitherside of a question, so that it is no wonder that he has found it a costlyamusement. Sometimes he will shut up a right of way and defy the parishto make him open it. At others he will with his own hands tear downsome other man's gate and declare that a path has existed there from timeimmemorial, defying the owner to prosecute him for trespass. He islearned in [715] old manorial and communal rights, and he applies hisknowledge sometimes in favour of the villagers of Fernworthy andsometimes against them, so that he is periodically either carried intriumph down the village street or else burned in effigy, according to hislatest exploit. He is said to have about seven lawsuits upon his hands atpresent, which will probably swallow up the remainder of his fortune andso draw his sting and leave him harmless for the future. Apart from thelaw he seems a kindly, good-natured person, and I only mention himbecause you were particular that I should send some description of thepeople who surround us. He is curiously employed at present, for, beingan amateur astronomer, he has an excellent telescope, with which he liesupon the roof of his own house and sweeps the moor all day in the hopeof catching a glimpse of the escaped convict. If he would confine hisenergies to this all would be well, but there are rumours that he intends toprosecute Dr. Mortimer for opening a grave without the consent of thenext of kin because he dug up the neolithic skull in the barrow on Long Down. He helps to keep our lives from being monotonous and gives alittle comic relief where it is badly needed.And now, having brought you up to date in the escaped convict, theStapletons, Dr. Mortimer, and Frankland, of Lafter Hall, let me end onthat which is most important and tell you more about the Barrymores, andespecially about the surprising development of last night.First of all about the test telegram, which you sent from London inorder to make sure that Barrymore was really here. I have alreadyexplained that the testimony of the postmaster shows that the test wasworthless and that we have no proof one way or the other. I told SirHenry how the matter stood, and he at once, in his downright fashion, hadBarrymore up and asked him whether he had received the telegramhimself. Barrymore said that he had."Did the boy deliver it 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 broughtit up to me.""Did you answer it yourself?""No; I told my wife what to answer and she went down to write it."In the evening he recurred to the subject of his own accord."I could not quite understand the object of your questions this morning,Sir Henry," said he. "I trust that they do not mean that I have doneanything to forfeit your confidence?"Sir Henry had to assure him that it was not so and pacify him by givinghim a considerable part of his old wardrobe, the London outfit havingnow all arrived.Mrs. Barrymore is of interest to me. She is a heavy, solid person, verylimited, intensely respectable, and inclined to be puritanical. You couldhardly conceive a less emotional subject. Yet I have told you how, on thefirst night here, I heard her sobbing bitterly, and since then I have morethan once observed traces of tears upon her face. Some deep sorrowgnaws ever at her heart. Sometimes I wonder if she has a guilty memorywhich haunts her, and sometimes I suspect Barrymore of being adomestic tyrant. I have always felt that there was something singular andquestionable in this man's character, but the adventure of last night bringsall my suspicions to a head.And yet it may seem a small matter in itself. You are aware that I amnot a very sound sleeper, and since I have been on guard in this house myslumbers have [716] been lighter than ever. Last night, about two in themorning, I was aroused by a stealthy step passing my room. I rose,opened my door, and peeped out. A long black shadow was trailing downthe corridor. It was thrown by a man who walked softly down the passagewith a candle held in his hand. He was in shirt and trousers, with nocovering to his feet. I could merely see the outline, but his height told methat it was Barrymore. He walked very slowly and circumspectly, andthere was something indescribably guilty and furtive in his wholeappearance.I have told you that the corridor is broken by the balcony which runsround 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. When I came roundthe balcony he had reached the end of the farther corridor, and I could seefrom the glimmer of light through an open door that he had entered one ofthe rooms. Now, all these rooms are unfurnished and unoccupied, so thathis expedition became more mysterious than ever. The light shonesteadily as if he were standing motionless. I crept down the passage asnoiselessly as I could and peeped round the corner of the door.Barrymore was crouching at the window with the candle held againstthe glass. His profile was half turned towards me, and his face seemed tobe rigid with expectation as he stared out into the blackness of the moor.For some minutes he stood watching intently. Then he gave a deep groanand with an impatient gesture he put out the light. Instantly I made myway back to my room, and very shortly came the stealthy steps passingonce more upon their return journey. Long afterwards when I had falleninto a light sleep I heard a key turn somewhere in a lock, but I could nottell whence the sound came. What it all means I cannot guess, but there issome secret business going on in this house of gloom which sooner orlater we shall get 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 talkwith Sir Henry this morning, and we have made a plan of campaignfounded upon my observations of last night. I will not speak about it justnow, but it should make my next report interesting reading