Before he went, the man turned and said, “It might interest you to know that you have been driving Mr. Sherlock Holmes.”

Holmes was stunned for a moment. Then he laughed. The man had used Holmes’s name as a trick. Clayton described the passenger as a well-dressed man with a square-cut black beard and a pale face.

When Clayton left, Holmes said the third thread was gone too. Their enemy was clever. Holmes said he was now checkmated in London. I would have to carry the work in Devonshire.

He looked serious. He said the case was dangerous, and he did not like sending me into it.

Chapter 6
Baskerville Hall

On Saturday, Sir Henry Baskerville and Dr. Mortimer were ready, and we travelled to Devonshire. Holmes drove with me to the station and spoke to me before we boarded.

“I will not give you theories,” he said. “Send me facts. Report everything that may matter, even small things. Watch Sir Henry’s neighbours. Learn anything new about Sir Charles’s death.”

Holmes said he had checked one point. James Desmond, the next heir after Sir Henry, was an elderly and kind man, so Holmes did not suspect him. Holmes warned me to study the people around the Hall: Mr. and Mrs. Barrymore, the groom, the nearby farmers, Mr. Stapleton the naturalist and his sister, and Mr. Frankland of Lafter Hall. He told me to keep my revolver close day and night.

On the platform Dr. Mortimer said they had not been followed for two days. Still, Holmes warned Sir Henry not to go out alone. Sir Henry said his missing boot had never returned. Holmes found that “very interesting.” As the train left, Holmes repeated the old warning: avoid the moor at night.

The journey passed through rich green fields and then toward darker hills. Sir Henry watched the land with excitement. He said he had travelled far, but he loved Devonshire most. Dr. Mortimer pointed out the first sight of the moor in the distance, grey and lonely.

We got off at a small station. Outside, a wagonette waited for us. I noticed two armed men in dark uniforms near the gate. Our driver explained why. A convict had escaped from Princetown prison three days ago. Guards watched the roads and stations. The convict was Selden, the Notting Hill murderer. The driver said farmers feared him more than they wanted the reward money.

As we drove on, the country became wilder. The wind from the moor turned cold. Sir Henry grew quiet. At last the driver pointed ahead, down into a hollow of trees. “Baskerville Hall,” he said.

Soon we reached the lodge gates and the long drive. Old trees formed a dark tunnel overhead. Sir Henry looked up the gloomy avenue and shivered. He said he would put electric lamps there soon, to make the place less frightening.

Then the house appeared. It was large and old, with ivy on the walls and two ancient towers. A light shone in the windows, and smoke rose from the chimneys. A tall man came out to greet us.

“Welcome to Baskerville Hall, Sir Henry!” It was Barrymore, the butler. A woman stood behind him in the doorway. That was Mrs. Barrymore.

Dr. Mortimer said he must go home at once. His wife expected him. He told Sir Henry to send for him at any hour if needed. Then he drove away.

Sir Henry and I entered the great hall. A fire burned in a huge fireplace. The room was high and dark, with old wood beams and heavy shadows. Stained glass, armour, and family trophies surrounded us.

Sir Henry looked around with strong feeling. He said it was solemn to stand in the home where his family had lived for centuries.

Barrymore returned and asked about dinner. He was tall and pale, with a square black beard. He spoke quietly. He said that under the new conditions the house would need more servants. He also hinted that he and his wife wished to leave when it suited Sir Henry.

Sir Henry was surprised. He said he did not want to break an old family connection. Barrymore admitted the truth. They had been devoted to Sir Charles. His death shocked them, and the Hall now felt painful to them. Sir Charles’s money would help them start a business later.

Barrymore showed us to our rooms. Sir Henry’s room was close to mine. This part of the house looked more modern and brighter. But the dining-room was dark and old-fashioned, with portraits of dead Baskervilles on the walls. We ate quietly and then went to a modern billiard-room to smoke.

Sir Henry said the house felt grim. He understood why Sir Charles had grown nervous living there alone. He suggested we go to bed early and hope for a better morning.

That night, I looked out from my window. The wind moved the trees, and the moon broke through clouds. Beyond the rocks I could see the long curve of the moor. It looked cold and sad.

I went to bed tired, but I could not sleep. The house was silent. Then, deep in the night, I heard a sound in the darkness. It was a woman sobbing, close and muffled, as if she tried to hide her grief. I sat up and listened. The crying came from somewhere inside the house. After a long time, it stopped, and the silence returned.

Chapter 7
The Stapletons of Merripit House

The next morning sunlight filled the breakfast room, and the house seemed less gloomy. Sir Henry said we had judged it unfairly last night because we were tired. I agreed, but I asked him if he had heard a woman sobbing in the night. He said he thought he had heard it too, but he believed it was a dream. I told him I was sure it was real.

Sir Henry questioned Barrymore. Barrymore said only two women were in the house: the scullery-maid and Mrs. Barrymore. He said the sound could not have come from his wife. But later I passed Mrs. Barrymore in the corridor. Her eyes were red and swollen. She had been crying. Barrymore had lied to us. I wondered why.

I decided to go to Grimpen and check Holmes’s telegram trick. If Barrymore had been in London, we needed proof. I walked four miles to the village. The postmaster remembered the message.

“It was delivered as you asked,” he said.

I asked if it went into Barrymore’s own hand. The postmaster called his son. The boy said he gave it to Mrs. Barrymore because Mr. Barrymore was in the loft. So I still could not prove where Barrymore had been. I left Grimpen with more doubt than before.

On the road back I heard running steps. A man caught up with me and spoke my name. He was small, neat, and clean-shaven, with fair hair. He carried a tin specimen box and a butterfly net.

“I am Stapleton of Merripit House,” he said. “Mortimer pointed you out to me.”

He asked about Sir Henry’s health and seemed relieved that Sir Henry had come to live at Baskerville Hall. He spoke of the local legend of the hound. He said many people claimed they had seen a strange creature on the moor. He suggested that Sir Charles’s fear may have killed him. Any dog might have frightened a man with a weak heart. He asked about Sherlock Holmes, and I saw that people here knew about Holmes and about me as well. I said Holmes could not come down at present.

Stapleton offered to help, but I said I was only visiting Sir Henry. He accepted that and invited me to Merripit House to meet his sister. I agreed, because Holmes had told me to study the neighbours.

We took a narrow path across the moor. Stapleton spoke with pride about the place and said he knew it well. He warned me about Grimpen Mire, a deadly bog hidden under bright green patches. As we watched, a brown pony wandered into it. The animal struggled, raised its neck, cried out, and then sank and disappeared. Stapleton said this happened often, and he alone knew a few safe paths through the mire.

Then a long, sad moan rolled across the moor. It rose and fell like a distant roar. Stapleton said peasants called it the Hound of the Baskervilles. He claimed it might be a bird, but the sound felt like a living cry. The moor looked empty and cold.

Stapleton suddenly ran after a rare insect, leaping toward the edge of the mire. While I watched him, a woman appeared on the path. She was tall and striking, with dark eyes and a proud face. I knew she must be Miss Stapleton.

She came close and spoke fast in a low voice. “Go back,” she said. “Go straight back to London. At once.”

I stared at her. I asked why. She said she could not explain, but she begged me to leave and never set foot on the moor again. Then she saw her brother returning.

“Hush,” she said. “Not a word. Please get that flower for me.”

Stapleton came up, breathing hard. He greeted her, but his tone was sharp. I told him my name was Dr. Watson, not Sir Henry. Miss Stapleton looked upset. She said she had misunderstood.

They led me to Merripit House. It was a lonely moorland home, but inside it was neat and comfortable. Stapleton said he had once run a school, but an illness killed three boys and ruined him. He came here to study plants and insects. He said he and his sister were happy, but her voice sounded false.

Stapleton said he would like to visit Sir Henry that afternoon. I said Sir Henry would welcome it. Stapleton asked me to stay for lunch and see his insect collection, but I refused. My mind was uneasy. The pony’s death, the strange moan, and Miss Stapleton’s warning stayed with me.

I started back toward Baskerville Hall. Before I reached the road, Miss Stapleton appeared again, out of breath. She had run to stop me.

“I made a foolish mistake,” she said. “I thought you were Sir Henry. Please forget what I said.”

I told her I could not forget. Sir Henry’s safety mattered to me, and I wanted the truth. She hesitated, then said she and her brother had been close to Sir Charles. Sir Charles believed the family curse. After his death, she feared the place was dangerous for any Baskerville. She wanted to warn Sir Henry.

I asked what danger she meant. She said she believed in the hound. She begged me to persuade Sir Henry to leave the moor and live somewhere else.

I asked why she did not want her brother to hear her warning. She said her brother wanted Sir Henry to stay, because he believed it would help the poor people on the moor. She said he would be angry if he knew she tried to drive Sir Henry away.

Then she turned and hurried off among the rocks. I walked on toward Baskerville Hall, with her warning weighing on my mind.

Chapter 8
First Report of Dr. Watson

Baskerville Hall, October 13th.

MY DEAR HOLMES,

I will give you facts, as you asked.

First, the escaped convict on the moor. People now think he has gone. Two weeks have passed, and no one has seen him. He could hide in the stone huts, but he would struggle to find food. The farmers feel safer.

I still worry about the Stapletons. They live far from help. There are only Stapleton, his sister, a maid, and an old servant. Sir Henry and I suggested that Perkins, our groom, should sleep there for protection, but Stapleton refused.

Sir Henry has begun to show strong interest in Miss Stapleton. She is very beautiful and very unusual for this place. Stapleton is polite, but I have seen him watch them closely. More than once I have caught a look of disapproval on his face when Sir Henry spoke to her. I have also noticed that Stapleton tries to stop them from being alone together.

Stapleton visited us the day after we arrived. The next morning he took us across the moor to the place linked with the old story of Hugo Baskerville. It was a lonely hollow with two great stones standing like teeth. Sir Henry asked Stapleton if he believed in supernatural forces. Stapleton answered carefully, but he left us with the sense that he believed the curse might be real.

We ate lunch at Merripit House that day, and Sir Henry met Miss Stapleton there. Since then we have seen them often. They are coming to dinner here tonight.

Dr. Mortimer has also been here. He is busy with an excavation and is very pleased with a prehistoric skull he found. On Thursday he came to lunch, and later we all walked to the yew alley at Sir Henry’s request. Mortimer showed us the moor gate, where Sir Charles stood and dropped ash from his cigar. I tried to picture Sir Charles waiting, then running down the alley in terror until his heart failed.

I have met another neighbour: Mr. Frankland of Lafter Hall. He is an older man who loves lawsuits and quarrels. He also has a telescope and spends time watching the moor, hoping to spot the escaped convict. He may try to cause trouble for Dr. Mortimer over the grave he opened.

Now I will tell you about the Barrymores and what happened last night.

First, your test telegram proved nothing. The village boy delivered it to Mrs. Barrymore, not to Barrymore himself. Sir Henry questioned Barrymore directly. Barrymore said he was in the box-room, and his wife brought the telegram to him. He said he told her what to reply, and she sent the answer.

Mrs. Barrymore still interests me. She looks strict and controlled, but she has cried more than once. I believe she was the woman who sobbed at night. Something is troubling her deeply.

Last night, about two o’clock, I woke to soft steps outside my room. I opened my door and saw a man moving along the corridor with a candle. He was in shirt and trousers and had no shoes. From his height I believe it was Barrymore.

I followed him quietly. He crossed the open balcony and went into the far corridor. He entered an empty room. A steady light shone through the open door, so I crept closer.

Barrymore was at the window. He held the candle against the glass and stared out toward the moor, as if he waited for something. He stood there for several minutes. Then he groaned, put out the candle, and left. I hurried back to my room. Soon I heard his steps pass again.

Later, I heard a key turn in a lock somewhere in the house.

I cannot explain this, but there is secret business here. Sir Henry and I have discussed what I saw, and we have made a plan based on it. I will report more soon.

Yours,
WATSON

Chapter 9
The Light upon the Moor
[Second Report of Dr. Watson]

Baskerville Hall, Oct. 15th.

MY DEAR HOLMES,

Events have moved quickly. I will keep to facts.

After my last letter I examined the room where I saw Barrymore at night. That window gives the clearest view of the moor. So Barrymore must have been watching for someone outside.

I told Sir Henry what I had seen. He said he had heard Barrymore’s steps before, at the same hour. We agreed to sit up and watch.

That morning Sir Henry tried to go out alone on the moor. I reminded him of your orders. He insisted. I followed him anyway, feeling guilty.

From the quarry hill I saw him walking on the moor path with Miss Stapleton. They spoke intensely. Then Stapleton came up fast with his net. Sir Henry put his arm round her, but she seemed to pull away. Stapleton reached them and shouted angrily. Sir Henry argued back. Miss Stapleton stood silent. At last Stapleton ordered his sister to leave with him. Sir Henry walked back alone, looking crushed.

I met Sir Henry and told him I had followed him. He was annoyed at first, then he laughed. He said Stapleton had acted like a madman. Sir Henry told me he had tried to speak of love and had offered to marry Miss Stapleton. She kept warning him that the moor was dangerous and begged him to leave. Then Stapleton rushed in and accused Sir Henry of forcing attentions on his sister. Sir Henry said his feelings were honourable, but Stapleton would not listen.

That afternoon Stapleton came to the Hall and apologised. He spoke privately with Sir Henry. After that they made peace. We will dine at Merripit House next Friday. Stapleton’s explanation was this: his sister is everything to him. He feared losing her. He asked Sir Henry to wait three months and treat her as a friend only. Sir Henry agreed.

Now to the Barrymore mystery.

The first night we waited, nothing happened. The second night we tried again, with the light low and no sound. Near two o’clock we heard a soft step in the passage. We followed it. Barrymore, barefoot, carried a candle into the same empty room. He crouched at the window and stared out, candle pressed to the glass.

Sir Henry walked in at once and demanded the truth. Barrymore tried to say he checked windows, but Sir Henry would not accept it. Barrymore said it was not his secret and he could not tell it.

I took the candle and held it to the glass as Barrymore had done. Outside, on the moor, a tiny yellow light appeared. Sir Henry made me move the candle, and the other light moved too. It was a signal.

Barrymore refused to explain, so Sir Henry dismissed him. Then Mrs. Barrymore rushed in, pale and shaking. She cried that it was her fault. She said her brother was starving on the moor, and they could not let him die. Her brother was Selden, the escaped convict.

She said Selden came to them after he escaped. He hid on the moor, and every second night they signalled him. If he answered, Barrymore carried food out to him. That was why Mrs. Barrymore cried at night. Barrymore said it was all true.

Sir Henry told them to go to their room. We would speak in the morning.

After they left, we still saw Selden’s light far away. Sir Henry wanted to capture him at once. I agreed. We armed ourselves and went out onto the moor.

A thin rain began. We moved toward the light. Then we heard the strange moaning cry again, rising and falling across the darkness. Sir Henry gripped my arm and said it sounded like a hound. I had to admit that people here call it the Hound of the Baskervilles. Sir Henry was badly shaken, but he refused to turn back.

We reached the signal. The candle was hidden between rocks so only Baskerville Hall could see it. We waited, and Selden’s face rose above the stones. He looked wild, dirty, and terrified. He saw something was wrong. Sir Henry and I rushed him. Selden cursed, threw a rock, and ran. The moon came out briefly and we chased him, but he was too fast. We had no chance to catch him.

As we turned back, I saw something else. On the top of a distant tor, black against the moon, stood a tall, thin man with arms folded, watching the moor. I pointed, but when I looked again he was gone. Sir Henry did not see him and thought it was probably a prison guard. I am not sure.

We will inform the people at Princetown where Selden is hiding.

That is my report. The Barrymore matter is now clear, but the moor still holds secrets.

Yours,
WATSON

Chapter 10
Extract from the Diary of Dr. Watson

October 16th.
 The day was foggy and wet. Sir Henry felt low after the night on the moor. I felt danger near us, but I could not name it.

I still do not believe in a supernatural hound. Yet I have heard a sound like a hound twice. I also remember the man in the London cab, the warning letter, and the tall man I saw on the tor. I now think a stranger is still watching us here.

After breakfast Barrymore asked to speak with Sir Henry. Their voices grew loud. Sir Henry then called me in. Barrymore complained that it was unfair we chased Selden after learning the truth from them. Sir Henry answered that they only told us when we forced the secret out.

Barrymore begged Sir Henry not to tell the police that Selden was still on the moor. He said Selden would soon escape to South America. He also said Selden would not rob anyone, because we had been giving him food. Sir Henry agreed to keep silent. Barrymore thanked him.

Then Barrymore stopped and said he knew something else about Sir Charles’s death. Sir Charles went to the moor gate that night to meet a woman. Barrymore could not name her, but he knew her initials: L. L. He said Sir Charles received a letter that morning, from Coombe Tracey, in a woman’s hand. Later Mrs. Barrymore found the ashes of a burned letter in the fireplace. One small piece survived long enough to read. It asked Sir Charles to burn the letter and meet at the gate at ten o’clock. It was signed L. L. The scrap then fell to dust.

Sir Henry and I agreed this was important. I wrote to Holmes at once.

October 17th.
 Rain poured all day. I walked on the moor and searched the tor where I had seen the tall man before. I saw no one.

On my way back Dr. Mortimer drove up and gave me a lift. His spaniel had vanished on the moor and had not returned. He was upset.

I asked Mortimer if he knew any woman with initials L. L. He thought and then said Laura Lyons, who lives in Coombe Tracey. He told me she is Mr. Frankland’s daughter. She married a man named Lyons, who deserted her. Frankland rejected her for the marriage and gives her little money. People in the area helped her. Sir Charles helped her, and Stapleton also helped. Mortimer helped her start a typewriting business.

I decided to go to Coombe Tracey and see Laura Lyons.

That night I spoke with Barrymore again while Mortimer and Sir Henry played cards. I asked about Selden. Barrymore said he had not heard from him for three days. The food he left out was gone, but Barrymore said it might have been taken by another man.

I froze when he said that. Barrymore admitted there is another man hiding on the moor. He has not seen him, but Selden told him about him. Selden said the man is not a convict. He seems like a “gentleman” and keeps to himself. He lives in one of the old stone huts on the hillside. Selden also said the man has a boy who brings him supplies, perhaps from Coombe Tracey.

Barrymore looked scared and said he wanted Sir Henry back in London. He said there was “black villainy” in all this. After Barrymore left, I stared out at the storm and thought of a man living in a stone hut on the moor. I felt sure the centre of the mystery was out there, and I decided I would try to reach it very soon.

Chapter 11
The Man on the Tor

After I learned two important facts — that Mrs. Laura Lyons had written to Sir Charles and asked him to meet her at the gate, and that the strange man on the moor lived in one of the old stone huts — I decided to act at once.

In the morning I told Sir Henry what I had discovered about Mrs. Lyons. We agreed that it would be better if I visited her alone.

Mrs. Lyons received me in her rooms at Coombe Tracey. She was very beautiful, but there was something hard in her expression. At first she denied writing to Sir Charles on the day of his death. When I quoted the words from her burned letter, she turned pale and finally admitted the truth.

“Yes,” she said. “I wrote to him. I asked him to meet me. I needed his help.”

She explained that she wanted money to free herself from her unhappy marriage. She said she planned to meet Sir Charles at ten o’clock, but she never went because she received help from another person.