Chapter 7 of The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir, Arthur
Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in
the public domain. Chapter 7, the stapleton's of
merripit house. The fresh beauty of the
following morning did something to efface from our minds, the
Grim and grey impression, which have been left upon both of us.
By our first experience of Baskerville Hall as Sir Henry.
And I sat at breakfast, the sunlight flooded in through the
high mullioned Windows throwing watery, patches of color, from
the Coats of Arms, which covered them.
The dark paneling glowed like bronze in the golden rays and it
was hard to realize that this was indeed the chamber which had
struck such a Gloom into our souls upon the evening before, I
guess it is ourselves. And not the house that we have
to blame said the baronet, we were tired with our journey and
chilled by our drive. So we took a gray view of the
place. Now, we are fresh and well so it
is all cheerful once more. And yet it was not entirely a
question of imagination. I answered did you?
For example happened to hear someone a woman.
I think sobbing in the night that is curious for.
I did. What I was half-asleep fancy
that I heard something of the sort.
I waited quite a time but there was no more of it.
So I concluded that it was all a dream.
I had it distinctly and I am sure that it was really the Saab
of a woman. We must ask about it right away.
He rang the bell and asked Barrymore whether he could
account for our experience. It seemed to me that the pallid
features of the butler turned a shade paler still as he listened
to his master's question. There are only two women in the
house. Senri he answered.
One is the scullery maid who sleeps in the other Wing?
The other is my wife and I can answer for it that the sound
could not have come from her. And yet, he lied.
As he said it for a chance that after breakfast.
I met mrs. Barrymore in the long Corridor
with the sun full upon her face, she was a large impassive, heavy
featured woman with a Stern set expression of mouth.
But her Telltale eyes were red and glanced at me from between
swollen Lids. It was she then who wept in a
night? And if she did, so her husband
must know it yet. He had taken the obvious risk of
Discovery in Glaring, as it was not.
So why had he done this? And why did she weep so
bitterly? Already round this pale-faced
handsome black-bearded, man, there was gathering an
atmosphere of mystery and of Gloom.
It was, he who had been the first to discover the body of
Sir, Charles and we had only his word for all the circumstances,
which led up to the old man's death.
Was it possible that it was Barrymore after all whom we had
seen in the cab in Regent Street?
The beard might, well have been the same.
The cabman have described a somewhat shorter, man, but such
an impression might easily have been erroneous, how can I settle
a point forever? Obviously, the first thing to do
was to see the grimpen postmaster and fine, whether the
test telegram, had really been placed in Barrymore's, own
hands. Be the answer.
What it might, I should at least have something to report to
Sherlock Holmes. So Henry had numerous papers to
examine after breakfast so that the time was propitious for my
Excursion. It was a pleasant walk of for
Miles along the edge of the Moor leading me at last, to a small
gray hamlet in which to larger buildings, which proved to be
the in and the house of dr. Mortimer, stood High Above the
Rest. The postmaster who was also the
village grocer had a clear, recollection of the telegram.
Certainly sir said he, I had the telegram delivered to mr.
Barrymore. Exactly as directed who
delivered it? My boy here.
James, you delivered that telegram to mr.
Barrymore, at the old last week, did you not?
Yes, Father, I delivered it into his own hands.
I asked, well, he was up in The Loft at the time, so that he
could not put into his own hands boy.
Give in to mrs. Barrymore's hands and she
promised to deliver it once. Did you see mr.
Barrymore, no sir. I tell you.
He was in The Loft if you didn't see him.
How do you know he Was in The Loft.
Well, surely his own wife, ought to know where he is, said the
postmaster testily, didn't he get the telegram?
If there's any mistake? It is for mr.
Barrymore himself to complain. It seemed hopeless to pursue the
inquiry any father, but it was clear that in spite of homes is
ruse. We had no proof that Barrymore
had not been in London all the time, suppose that it were so
suppose that the same man had been the last two had seen such
as alive and the first two dogs and you are when he returned to
England, what then was he the agent of others or had he some
Sinister design of his own? What interest could he have in
persecuting the Baskerville family?
I thought of the strange, warning clipped out of the
leading article of the times. Was that his work or was it
possibly the doing of someone who was bent upon counteracting?
His schemes, the only conceivable motive was that
which have been suggested by Sir Henry that if the family could
be scared away a comfortable and permanent home would be secured
for the Barrymore's, but surely such an explanation.
Nation as that would be quite inadequate to account for the
deep and subtle scheming which seemed to be weaving an
invisible net around the young baronet Holmes himself.
Had said that no more complex case had come to him in all the
long series of his Sensational investigations.
I prayed as I walked back along the gray lonely road that my
friend might soon be freed from his preoccupations and able to
come down to take his heavy burden of responsibility from my
shoulders. Suddenly, my thoughts were
interrupted by the sound of running feet behind me, and by a
voice, which called me by name. I turned expecting to see dr.
Mortimer, but to my surprise, it was a stranger who was pursuing
me. He was a small slim
clean-shaven. Prim faced man flaxen-haired and
lean George between 30 and 40 years of age, dressed in a gray
suit and wearing a straw hat at inbox for Botanical specimens,
huh? Her over his shoulder and he
carried a green butterfly. Net in one of his hands.
You will I am sure excuse my presumption Doctor.
Watson said he as he came panting up to where I stood Here
on the more we are a homely folk and do not wait for formal
introductions, you may possibly have heard my name from our
mutual friend Mortimer. I am Stapleton of merripit
house. Your net and box would have told
me as much said, I for, I knew that mr.
Stapleton was a naturalist. But how did you know me how
you've been calling on Mortimer? And he pointed you out to me
from the window of his surgery as you passed as our road lay
the same way. I thought that I could overtake
you and introduce myself. I trust that Sir Henry is none.
The worse for his journey. He's very well thank you.
We were all rather afraid that after the sad death of Sir,
Charles, the new baronet might refuse to live.
Here it is asking much of a wealthy man to come down and
bury himself in a place of this kind, but I need not tell you
that it means a very great deal to the countryside.
So Henry, as I suppose, no superstitious fears in a matter,
I do not think that it is likely.
Of course, you know, the legend of the fiend dog, which haunts
the family I have heard of it. It is extraordinary how
credulous the pheasants are about here.
Any number of them are ready to swear that they have seen such a
creature upon the more. He spoke with a smile, but I
seem to read in his eyes and he took the matter more seriously.
The story took a great hold upon the imagination of Sir Charles
and I have no doubt that it led to his tragic end but how his
nerves were so worked up that the appearance of any dog might
have had a fatal effect upon his diseased heart.
I fancy that he really did see something of the kind upon that
last night in the you Ali. I feared that some disaster
might occur for I was very fond of the old man and I You that
his heart was weak. How did you know that my friend
Mortimer told me? You think then that some dog,
pursued, Sir, Charles and that he died of fright in
consequence? Have you any better explanation?
I have not. Come to any conclusion.
Has mr. Sherlock Holmes.
The words took away my breath for an instant, but a glance at
the Placid face and steadfast eyes of my companion, showed
that no surprise was intended. It is useless for us to pretend
that we do not know you dr. Watson said he the records of
your detective have reached as here and you could not celebrate
him without being known yourself.
When Mortimer told me your name, he could not deny your identity.
If you are here, then it follows that mr.
Sherlock Holmes is interesting himself in the matter and I Am
Naturally curious to know what viewing may take.
I'm afraid that I cannot answer that question.
May I ask him if he's going to honor us with a visit himself,
he cannot leave town at present. He has other cases, which
engages attention what a Pity. He might throw some light on
that, which is so dark to us. But as to your own researches,
if there is any possible way in which I can be of service to
you, I trust that you will command me if I had any
indication of the nature of your suspicions, or How you propose
to investigate the case? I might perhaps even now give
you some Aid or advice. I assure you that I am simply
here upon a visit to my friend Sir, Henry and that I need no
help of any kind. Excellent said Stapleton.
You are perfectly right to be wary and discreet.
I am justly reproved. For what I feel was an
unjustifiable intrusion and I promise you that I will not
mention the matter again. We'd come to a point where an
arrow grassy pass. Struck off from the road and
wound away across the Moor. A steep Boulder sprinkled, he'll
lay upon the right which had in bygone days.
Been cut into a Granite Quarry the face which was turned
towards us formed a dark Cliff with Ferns and brambles growing
in its niches from over a distant rise.
They floated a grey plume of smoke.
A moderate walk along this more path.
Brings us to marry pit house said he perhaps she will spare
an hour that I may have the pleasure of introducing you to
my sister. My first thought was that I
should be by Sir Henry side but then I remembered the pile of
papers and bills with which his study table was littered.
It was certain that I could not help with those and homes had
expressly said that I should study the neighbors upon the
more. I accepted stapleton's
invitation and we turn together down the path.
It is a wonderful place to more said he looking around over the
undulating Downs, long green rollers with crests of jagged.
Granite foaming up into fantastic surges, you never Tire
of them or you cannot think the wonderful Secrets which it
contains, it is so vast and so Barren.
And so mysterious You know, well then our you've only been here
two years, the residents would call me a newcomer we came
shortly after Sir, Charles settled, but my tastes led.
Me to explore every part of the country round and I should sing
that. There are few men who know it
better than I do. Is it hard to know?
Very hard? You see for example this Great
Plain to the north here with the queer ills.
Breaking out of it. Do You observe anything
remarkable about that? It will be a rare place for a
gallop. You would naturally think so,
and the thought has cost several their lives before.
Now, you notice those bright green spots scattered thickly
over it? Yes, they see more fertile than
the rest Stapleton, laughed her. That is the great.
Grimpen mire said, he a false step Yonder means death to man
or beast only yesterday. I saw one of the more ponies
Wonder into it. Me never came out.
I saw his head for quite a long time craning out of the bog hole
but it sucked him down at last even in dry seasons, it is a
danger to cross it but after these Autumn rains it is an
awful place and yet I can find my way to the very heart of it
and return Alive by George. There's another of those
miserable ponies. Something brown was rolling and
tossing among the green sedges and a long agonized writhing.
Neck shot upward and a dreadful cry.
Echoed over the more. It turned me cold with horror.
But my companions nerves seemed to be stronger than mine.
It's gone. Said he, the Meyer has him to in
two days, and many more perhaps for they get in the way of going
there, in the dry weather and never know the difference until
the Meyer as the minutes clutches, it's a bad place.
The great grimpen mire and you say you can penetrate it.
Yes, there are one or two paths which are very active man.
Can take, I have found them out. But why should you wish to go
into so horrible a place? Well you see the hills Beyond
they are really Ireland's cut off on all sides by The
Impossible Meyer which is crawl, drowned them in the course of
years. That is where the rare plants
and the butterflies are if you have the wit to reach him.
I shall try my luck someday. He looked at me with a surprised
face for God's sake, put such an idea out of your mind said he,
your blood will be upon my head. I assure you that there would
not be the least chance of your coming back alive.
It is only by remembering certain complex, landmarks that
I am able to do it. Hello.
I cried. What is that?
A long low moan indescribably sad swept over the more it
filled the whole air and yet it was impossible to say.
Whence it came. From a dull, murmur it swelled
into a deep Roar. And then sank, back into a
Melancholy throbbing, murmur. Once again, Stapleton looked at
me with a curious expression in his face, We're place, the more
said he but what is it? The Peasants say it is the Hound
of the Baskervilles calling for its prey.
I've heard it once or twice before but never quite so loud.
I looked round with a chill of fear in my heart, the huge
swelling plane mottled with the green patches of Russia's
nothing stirred. Over the vast expanse.
Save a pair of ravens which croaked loudly from a tour
behind us. You are an educated man.
You don't believe such nonsense. As that said I What do you think
is the cause of? So strange, a sound?
Boggs make queer noises. Sometimes it's a mud set Lenore
the Water Rising or something. No no, that was a living voice.
Well, perhaps it was. Did you ever hear a bitten
booming? No I never did.
It is a very rare bird practically extinct in England
now but all things are possible upon the Moor.
Yes, I should not be surprised to learn what we have heard.
Is the Cry of the last of the britons.
Is the weirdest strangest thing that ever I heard in my life.
Yes, it's rather an uncanny Place altogether.
Look at the hillside Yonder. What do you make of those?
The whole steep slope was covered with grey, circular
rings of stone, a score of them, at least.
What are they sheep pens? Know they are the homes of our
worthy ancestors prehistoric man.
Lived sickly on the Moor and as no one in particular as lived
there since we find all these little Arrangements exactly as
he left them, these are his wigwams with the roofs off.
You can even In see his Hearth and his couch, if you have the
Curiosity to go inside. But it is quite a town.
When was it inhabited? Neolithic man.
No date. What did he do?
He grazed his cattle on those slopes and he learned to dig for
tin when the bronze sword began to serve supersede the stone
axe. Look at the great trench in the
opposite Hill, that is his Mark. Yes, you'll find some very
singular points about the more dr.
Watson. Oh, excuse me, an instant.
It is surely cyclop adiz. A small fly or moth had
fluttered across our path and in an instant Stapleton was rushing
with extraordinary energy and speed in pursuit of it to my
dismay. The creature flew straight for
the great Maya. And my acquaintance never paused
for an instant bounding from tuft to tuft behind it.
His Green net waving in the air his grey clothes and jerky.
Zigzaggy regular progress, made him not unlike some huge moth
himself. If I was standing watching his
Pursuit with a mixture of admiration, for his
extraordinary, activity and fear, lest he should lose his
footing in the treacherous Meyer, when I heard the sound of
steps and turning round found a woman near me upon the path.
She had come from the direction in which the plume of smoke
indicated, the position of merripit house, but the dip of
the more had hit her until she was quite close.
I could not doubt that this was the Miss Stapleton of whom I had
been told since ladies of any sort Must Be Few upon the Moor.
And I remembered that I had heard someone describe her as
being a beauty, the woman who approached me was certainly that
and of a most uncommon type, they could not have been a
greater contrast between brother and sister for Stapleton was
neutral-tinted with light hair and gray eyes.
While she was darker than any brunette who might seen in
England. Slim elegant and tall.
She had a proud finally cut face.
So regular that it might have seemed impassive, were it?
Not for the sensitive mouth and the Beautiful Dark eager eyes
with her, perfect figure, and elegant dress, she was indeed a
strange Apparition upon a lonely Moreland path, her eyes were on
her brother as I turned and then she quickened her Pace towards
me. I had raised my hat and was
about to make some explanation or E remark, when her own words
turned, all my thoughts into a new channel, go back, she said,
go straight back to London instantly.
I could only stare at her and stupid.
Surprise, her eyes blazed at me, and she tapped the ground
impatiently with her foot. Why should I go back?
I asked, I cannot explain. She spoke in a low eager voice,
with a curious lisp in her utterance.
But for God's sake, do what? I asked you go back and never
set foot upon the Moor again. But I've only just come man,
man. She cried, can you not tell when
a warning is for your own good, go back to London.
Start tonight. Get away from this place at all
costs. Hush my brother's coming, not a
word of what I've said. Would you mind getting that
Orchid for me among the mares Tails Yonder?
Where very rich in orchids on the more of course you're rather
late to see the beauties of the place?
Stapleton had abandoned, the Chase and come back to his
breathing hard and flushed with his exertions.
Hello Barrel said, he and it seemed to me that the tone of
his greeting was not altogether a cordial one.
Well, Jack, you're very hot. Yes, I was chasing as cyclope
days. He's very rare and seldom found
in the late. Autumn.
What a pity you that I should have missed him.
He spoke unconcernedly, but his small light eyes glanced
incessantly from the girl to me. You have introduced yourselves
or you can see. Yes.
I was telling say Henry that it was rather late for him to see
the true beauties of the Moor. Why, who do you think this is?
I imagine that it must be Sir. Henry Baskerville.
No, no. I said I only a humble commoner
but his friend. My name is dr.
Watson. A flush of vexation passed over
her expressive face, we have been talking at cross-purposes
said, she why? You had not very much time for
talk. Her brother remarked, with the
same questioning eyes. I talked as if dr.
Watson were a resident instead of being a merely, a visitor,
said she, it cannot much matter to him whether it is early or
late for the orchids but you will.
Come on. Will you not and see merripit
house a short walk brought us to it a bleak Moorland house once
the farm of some grazier in the old prosperous days but now put
in to repair and turned into a modern dwelling.
An orchard surrounded it, but the trees as is usual upon the
Moor was stunted and nipped and the effect of the whole place
was mean and Melancholy. We were admitted by a strange
wizened, Rusty coated old manservant, who seemed in,
keeping with the house inside. However, there were large rooms
furnished with an Elegance in which I seem to recognize the
taste of the lady. As I looked from their windows,
at the interminable Granite, flecked more rolling unbroken to
the farthest Horizon, I could not.
But Marvel at. What could have brought this
Highly Educated man, and this beautiful woman to live in such
a place, Queer spot to choose is it not said he is if in answer
to my thought and yet we managed to make ourselves.
Fairly happy. Do we not Barrel?
Quite happy said she but there was no ring of conviction.
In her words, I had a school said Stapleton, it was in the
North Country, the work to a man of my temperament was mechanical
and uninteresting but the privilege of living with youth
of helping to mold those. Those young minds and of
impressing them with one's own character and ideals was very
dear to me. However, the fates were against
us a serious epidemic broke out in the school and three of the
boys died in never recovered from the blow and much of my
Capital was irretrievably swallowed up and yet if it were
not for the loss of the Charming companionship of the boys.
I could Rejoice over my own Misfortune for with my Wrong
taste for botany and zoology. I find an unlimited field of
work here and my sister is as devoted to Nature as I am, all
this dr. Watson has been brought upon
your head by your expression as you surveyed the more out of our
window. It certainly did cross my mind,
that it might be a little dull less for you, perhaps and for
your sister. No, no, I'm never dull.
Said she quickly. We have books.
We have our studies and we have interesting neighbors.
Dr. Mortimer is a most learned man in his own line.
Poor Sir, Charles was also an admirable companion.
We knew him well and miss him more than I can tell.
Do you think that I should intrude?
If I were to call this afternoon?
I make the acquaintance of Sir Henry.
I'm sure that he would be delighted.
Then perhaps you would mention that I propose to do so we met
in our humble way, do something to make things more easy for him
until he becomes accustomed to his new surroundings.
Will you come upstairs dr. Watson and inspect my collection
of lepidoptera, I think it is the most complete one in the
southwest of England. By the time that you've looked
through them lunch will be almost ready.
But I was eager to get back to my charge, The Melancholy of the
more, the death of the unfortunate Pony, the weird
sound which have been associated with the Grim legend of the
Baskervilles, all these things. Tinged my thoughts with sadness.
Then on top of these more or less vague Impressions.
There had come the definite and distinct warning of Miss
Stapleton delivered. With such intense earnestness.
That I could not doubt that some grave and deep reason.
Behind it. I resisted all pressure to stay
for lunch and I set off at once upon my return Journey, taking
the grass grown pass by which we had come, It seems however that
there must have been some shortcut for those who knew it
for. Before I'd reached the road, I
was astounded to see Miss Stapleton sitting upon a rock by
the side of the track. Her face was beautifully flushed
with her exertions and she held her hand to her side.
I've run all the way in order to cut you off.
Dr. Watson said she I had not even time to put on my hat I
must not stop on my brother may miss me, I wanted to say You how
sorry I am about the stupid mistake.
I made in thinking that you were Sir.
Henry, please forget the words I said, which have no application
whatever to you, But I can't forget them.
Miss Stapleton said, I I am sir Henry's friend.
And his welfare is a very close concern of mine.
Tell me why it was that you were so eager.
That Sir Henry should return to London.
A woman's whim, dr. Watson when you know me better
you will understand that I cannot always give reasons for
what I say or do. No.
No I remember the thrill in your voice.
I remember the look in your eyes.
Please please. Be frank with me Miss Stapleton
forever. Since I've been here, I have
been conscious of Shadows all around me.
Life has become like that, great.
Grimpen mire, with little green, patches everywhere into which
one may sink and with no guide to point the track.
Tell me then what it was, you meant, and I will promise to
convey your warning to Sir Henry.
An expression of a resolution passed for an instant over her
face. But her eyes had hardened again,
when she answered me. You make too much of it.
Dr. Watson said she my brother and I were very much shocked by
the death of Sir. Charles, we knew him very
intimately for his favourite, walk was over the more to our
house. He was deeply impressed with the
curse which hung over the family.
And when this tragedy came, I naturally felt that there must
be some grounds for the fears, which he had expressed.
I was distressed. Therefore, when another member
of the family came down to live here and I felt that he should
be warned of the sure, which he will run, that was all, which I
intended to convey. But what is the danger?
You know, the story of the Hound?
I do not believe in such nonsense but I do if you have
any influence with Sir Henry take him away from a place which
has always been fatal to his family.
The world is wide. Why should he wish to live at
the place of danger? Because it is the place of
danger that is Sir. Henry's nature, I fear that
unless you can give me some more definite information than this,
it would be impossible to get him to move.
I cannot say anything. Definite for I do not know
anything definite. I would ask you one more
question Miss Stapleton if you meant no more than this when you
first spoke to me. Why should you not wish your
brother, to overhear? What you said?
There's nothing to which he or anyone else could object.
My brother is very anxious to have the whole inhabited for he
thinks it is for the good of the poor folk upon the more.
He would be very angry if he knew that I have said anything
which might induce a Henry to go away, but I have done my duty
now and I will say no more. I must go back or you will miss
me and suspect that I have seen you goodbye.
She turned and had disappeared in a few minutes among the
scattered Boulders while I with my Soul full of vague.
Fears. Pursued my way to Baskerville
Hall. End of chapter 7.