Chapter 11 of the Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir, Arthur
Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in
the public domain. Chapter 11 the man on the tour.
The extract from my private diary which forms the last
chapter has brought my narrative up to the 18th of October.
A time when these strange events began to move swiftly towards
their terrible conclusion. The incidents of the next few
days are indelibly, Graven upon my recollection.
And I can tell them without reference to the notes made at
the time, I start them from the day which succeeded that upon
which I had established two facts of great importance the
one that mrs. Laura Lyons of coombe Tracey had
written to Sir Charles Baskerville and made an
appointment with him at the very place and our that he met his
death, the other that the looking man upon the Moor was to
be found among the stone Huts upon the hillside.
With these two facts in my possession, I felt that either
my intelligence or my courage must be deficient if I could not
throw some further light upon these dark places.
I had no opportunity to tell the baronet.
What I'd learned about. Mrs. Lyons upon the evening
before for dr. Mortimer remained with him at
cards until it was very late at breakfast.
However, I informed him about my Discovery and asked him whether
he would care to accompany me to coombe Tracey.
At first, he was very eager to come, but on second thoughts, it
seemed to both of us that if I went alone, the results might be
better. The more formal we made the
visit, the less information, we might obtain I left Sir, Henry
behind there for not without some pickings of conscience and
drove off upon my new Quest. When I reached coombe Tracey, I
told Perkins to put up the horses and I made inquiries for
the lady who might come to interrogate.
I had no difficulty in finding her rooms, which were Central
and well-appointed, A maid showed me in without ceremony.
And as I entered the sitting-room, a lady who was
sitting before a Remington typewriter, sprang up with a
pleasant smile of. Welcome her face fell.
However, when she saw that, I was a stranger and she sat down
again and asked me the object of my visit The first impression
left by mrs. Lyons was one of extreme Beauty
her eyes and hair were of the same Rich hazel color and her
cheeks though. Considerably freckled were
flushed with the Exquisite Bloom of the brunette, the dainty pink
which lurks the heart of the sulphurous.
Admiration was, I repeat the first impression, but the second
was criticism there was something subtly wrong with the
face. Some coarseness of expression,
some hardness, perhaps of I some looseness of lip which marred
it's perfect Beauty but these of course are afterthoughts at the
moment. I was simply conscious that I
was in the presence of a very handsome woman and that she was
asking me the reasons for my visit I had not quite understood
until that instant how delicate my mission was.
I have the pleasure said I of knowing your father it was a
clumsy introduction and the lady made me feel it.
There is nothing in common between my father and me she
said I owe him nothing and his friends are not mine.
If it were not for the late Sir Charles Baskerville and some
other kind Hearts, I might have starved for all that my father
cared. It was about the late Sir
Charles Baskerville that I have come here to see you.
The freckles started out on the lady's face.
What can I tell you about him? She asked and her fingers played
nervously, over the stops of her typewriter.
You knew him? Did you not?
I have already said that I owe a great deal to his kindness if
I'm able to support myself. It is largely due to the
interest which he took in my unhappy situation.
Did you correspond with him? The lady looked quickly up with
an angry gleam in her hazel eyes.
What is the object of these questions?
She asked sharply? The object is to avoid a public
Scandal. It is better that I should ask
them here than that the matter should pass outside our control.
She was silent and her face was still very pale at last.
She looked up with something Reckless and defiant in a
manner. Well, I'll answer.
She said, what are your questions?
Did you correspond with Sir? Charles, I certainly wrote to
him once or twice to acknowledge his delicacy and his generosity.
Have you the dates of these letters?
No. Have you ever met him?
Yes, once or twice when he came in to coombe Tracey, he was a
very retiring man, and he preferred to do good by stealth.
But if you saw him so seldom and wrote so seldom, how did he know
enough about your Affairs to be able to help you?
As you say that he has done? She met my difficulty with the
utmost readiness. There were several gentlemen.
Who knew my sad history and United to help me one was mr.
Stapleton, a neighbor, and intimate friend of Sir,
Charles's he was exceedingly, kind, and it was through him.
That Sir, Charles learned about my affairs, I knew already that
Sir, Charles Baskerville had made Stapleton.
His almoner upon several occasions.
So the lady's statement bore the impress of Truth upon it.
Did you ever write to Sir Charles asking him to meet you?
I continued this is Lions flushed with anger again really
sir? This is very extraordinary
question. I am sorry madam but I must
repeat it. Then I answer certainly not not
on the very day of Sir Charles's death.
The flush had faded in an instant and the Deathly face
was. Before me, her dry lips could
not speak the know which I saw rather than heard Surely your
memory deceives. You said I, I could even quote,
a passage of her letter. It ran, please, please.
As you are a gentleman burn this letter and be at the gate by ten
o'clock. I thought that she had fainted
but she recovered herself by a supreme effort.
Is there? No?
Such thing as a gentleman. She gasped.
You do such as an injustice. He did burn the letter, but
sometimes a letter may be legible even when burned you
acknowledge now that you wrote it Yes, I did.
Write it. She cried pouring out her soul
in a torrent of words. I did write it.
Why should I deny it? I have no reason to be ashamed
of it. I wished him to help me.
I believe that. If I had an interview, I could
gain his help. So I asked him to meet me.
But why at such an hour? Because I had only just learned
that he was going to London next day and might be away for
months. There were reasons why I could
not get there earlier. But why a rendezvous in the
garden instead of a visit to the house?
Do you think a woman could go alone at that hour to a
bachelor's house? Well, what happened?
When you did get there? I never went mrs.
Lyons no, I swear it to you on all I hold sacred.
I never went something intervene to prevent me going.
What was that? That is a private matter.
I cannot tell it You acknowledge them that you made an
appointment with Sir, Charles at the very hour and place in,
which he met his death. But you deny that you kept the
appointment. That is the truth.
Again, and again, I cross questioned her but I could never
get past that point. This is Lyons said, I as I Rose
from this long and inconclusive interview, you are taking a very
great responsibility and putting yourself in a very false
position by not making an absolute clean, breast of all
that, you know, if I have to call in the aid of the police,
you will find how seriously you are compromised.
If your position is innocent, why did you in the first
instance? Didn't I?
I having written to Sir, Charles upon that date. because I feared
that some false conclusion, might be drawn from it and that
I might find myself involved in a scandal And why were you so
pressing that Sir? Charles should destroy your
letter? If you had read the letter you
will know. I did not say that.
I'd read all the letter you quoted.
Some of it. I quoted the PostScript the
letter had, as I said been burned and it was not all
legible, I ask you once again. Why it was that you were so
pressing that Sir, Charles should destroy this letter which
he received on the day of his death.
The matter is a very private one.
The more reason why you should avoid a public investigation.
I will tell you then if you've heard anything of my unhappy
history, you will know that I made a rash marriage and had
reason to regret it. I have heard so much.
My life has been one incessant persecution from a husband whom
I abhor. The law is upon his side and
every day, I am faced by the possibility that he may force me
to live with him. At the time that I wrote this
letter to Sir, Charles I had learned that there was a
prospect of my regaining. My Freedom, if certain expenses
could be met, it meant everything to me, peace of mind,
happiness, self-respect, everything I knew such as is
generosity and I thought that if he heard the story from my own
lips he would help me. Then how is it that you did not
go? Because I received help in the
interval from another source. Why then did you not write to
Sir Charles and explain this? So I should have done.
Had I not seen his death in the paper next morning.
The woman's story hung coherently together and all my
questions were unable to shake it.
I could only check it by finding if she had indeed instituted
divorce proceedings against her husband at or about the time of
the tragedy. It was unlikely that she would
dare to say that she had not been to Baskerville Hall if she
really had been for a trap, would be necessary to take her
there and could not have returned to coombe Tracey until
the early hours of the morning. Such an Excursion could not be
kept secret. The probability was there for
that. She was telling the truth, or at
least a part of the truth. I came away baffled and
disheartened once again, I had reached that dead wall which
seemed to be built across every path by which I tried to get at
the object of my mission. And yet, the more I thought of
the lady's face and of her manner, the more I felt that
something was being held back from me.
Why should she turn so pale? Why should she fight against
every admission until it was forced from her?
Why should she have been so reticent at the time of the
tragedy? Surely the explanation of all,
this could not be as innocent as she would have me believe.
For the moment, I could proceed no father in that direction, but
must turn back to that other clue.
Which was to be sought for among the stone Huts upon the Moor.
And that was a most vague Direction I realized it as I
drove back and noted how Hill after Hill showed traces of the
ancient people Barrymore's, only indication had been that the
stranger lived in one of those abandoned huts and many hundreds
of them are scattered throughout the length and breadth of the
more but I had my own experience for a guide since it had shown
me, the man himself standing upon the summit of the black
tour. That then should be the center
of my search from there. I should explore every Hut upon
the Moor until I lighted upon the right, one.
If this man were inside it, I should find out from his own
lips at the point of My Revolver, if necessary who he
was and why he had dogged us so long.
He might slip away from us in the crowd of Regent Street, but
it would puzzled him to do so upon the lonely more.
On the other hand, if I should find the Hut and its tenant
should not be within it. I must remain there.
However, long, the vigil until he returned.
Holmes had missed him in London, it would indeed be a Triumph for
me if I could run him to Earth where my master had failed luck
had been against us again and again, in this inquiry.
But now at last, it came to my Aid and the messenger of Good
Fortune was none, other than mr. Frankland who was standing gray,
whiskered and red-faced outside. The Gate of his garden, which
opened on to the high road along, which I traveled.
Good day, dr. Watson cried, he, with unwanted
Good Humor. You must really give your horses
arrest and come in to have a glass of wine.
And to congratulate me my feelings towards him were very
far from being friendly. After what I had heard of his
treatment of his daughter but I was anxious to send Perkins and
the wagonette home and the opportunity was a good one.
I alighted and sent a message to Sir, Henry that I should walk
over in time for dinner. Then I followed Frankland into
his dining room. It is a great day for me, sir.
One of the red letter days of my life, he cried with many
Chuckles cut. I've brought off a double event.
I mean, to teach them in these parts that law is Law.
And that there is a man here who does not fear to invoke it, I
have established a right of way through the center of old
Middleton's Park slap across it. Sir within 100 yards of his own
front door, what do you think of that?
Will teach these magnets that they cannot ride roughshod over
the rights of the common? Commoners, confound them.
And I've closed the wood where the fern worthy folk used to
picnic these infernal people seem to think that there are no
rights of property and that they can swarm where they like, with
their papers and their bottles both cases.
Decided dr. Watson and both in my favor, I
haven't had such a day since I had surged on Moreland for
trespass because he's shut in his own Warren.
How on Earth did you do that? Look it up in the book, sir.
It will repay reading Franklin versus small and Court of
Queen's, bench. It cost me 200 pounds, but I got
my verdict. Did it do you any good?
None, sir. None.
I am proud to say that. I've no interest in the matter.
I act entirely from a sense of public duty.
I have no doubt. For example, that the firm
worthy people will burn me in effigy tonight.
I told the police last time they did it, they should stop these
disgraceful. Exhibitions, the county
constabulary is in a scandalous State, sir, and it is not
afforded made the protection to, which I'm entitled the case, Ace
of Franklin versus for agena will bring the matter before the
attention of the public. I told them that they would have
occasion to regret their treatment of me.
And already my words have come true.
How so I asked the old man put on a very knowing expression,
because I could tell them what they are dying to know, but
nothing could induce me to help the Rascals in any way.
I had been casting around for some excuse for which I could
get away from his gossip, but now I began to wish to hear more
of it. I'd seen enough of the contrary
nature of the old sinner to understand that any strong sign
of Interest, would be the surest way to stop his confidences.
Some poaching case. No doubt said I with an
indifferent manner. Ha ha.
My boy are very much more important matter than that.
What about the convict on the more?
I stared, we don't mean that, you know, where he is said.
I I may not know exactly where he is, but I'm quite certain
that I could help the police to lay their hands on him as it
never struck you that the way to catch that man was to find out
where he got his food and so trace it to him.
He certainly seemed to be getting uncomfortably near the
truth. No doubt said I.
But how do you know that he's anywhere upon the more?
I know it because I've seen with my own eyes, the messenger who
takes him his food, My heart sank for Barrymore.
It was a serious thing to be in the power of this spiteful old
busybody. But his next remark, took a
weight from my mind. You'll be surprised to hear that
his food is taken to him by a child.
I see him every day through my telescope Up on the Roof, he
passes along the same path at the same hour and to whom should
he be going? Except to the convict?
He was lucky indeed. And yet I suppress all
appearance of Interest a child Barrymore had said that our
unknown was supplied by a boy, it was on his track and not upon
the convicts that Franklin had Bold, if I could get his
knowledge, it might save me a long and weary hunt, but in
credulity and indifference were evidently my strongest cards.
I should say that it was much more likely that it was the son
of one of the mall and Shepherds taking out his father's dinner.
The least appearance of opposition struck fire out of
the old autocrat. His eyes looked malignantly at
me and his gray whiskers bristled, like those of an angry
cat indeed, sir said, he pointing out over the wide
stretching more. Do you see that black tour Over
Yonder? Well do you see the low Hill
Beyond with the thorn bush upon it?
It is a stoniest part of the whole more.
Is that a place where a Shepherd would be likely to take his
station? Your suggestion, sir is a most
absurd one. I meekly answered that.
I had spoken without knowing all the facts, my submission,
pleased him and led him to further confidences.
You may be sure sir that I have very good grounds before I came
to an opinion. I have seen the boy again and
again with his bundle every day and sometimes twice a day.
I've been able, but wait a moment dr.
Watson do, my eyes deceive me? Or is there present moment
something moving up on that Hillside?
It was several miles off, but I could distinctly see a small
dark dot against the dull, green and gray.
Come sir, come cried Franklin rushing upstairs.
You will see with your own eyes and judge for yourself.
The telescope, a formidable, instrument mounted upon a
tripod, stood upon the flat LEDs of the house.
Frankland clapped, his eye to it, and gave a cry of
satisfaction quick, dr. Watson quick before he passes
over the hill, Barry was sure enough.
A smaller chin with a little bundle upon his shoulder
toiling. Slowly up the hill.
When he reached the crest, I saw the Ragged uncouth figure
outlined for an instant against a cold blue sky.
He looked round him with a furtive and stealthy are as one
who dreads Pursuit then he vanished over the hill.
Well, am I right? Certainly there is a boy who
seems to have some secret errand.
And what that errand is even a County Constable, could guess,
but not one word shall have from me and I bind you to secrecy.
Also dr. Watson not a word, you
understand? Just as you wish they have
treated me, shamefully shamefully when the facts come
out in Franklin versus Regina. I ventured a think that a thrill
of indignation will run through the country.
Nothing would induce me. Doubt the police in any way for
all they cared who might have been met in?
Instead of my Effigy which these Rascals burned at the stake,
surely you're not going. You will help me to empty the
decanter in honor of this great occasion.
But I resisted all his solicitations and succeeded in
dissuading him from his announced intention of walking
home with me. I kept the road as long as his
eye was on me and then I struck off across the Moor and made for
the Stony Hill over, which the boy had disappeared.
Everything was working in my favor and I swore that it should
not be through lack of energy or perseverance that I should miss
the chance, which Fortune had thrown in my way.
The sun was already sinking when I reached the summit of the hill
and the long, slopes beneath me were all gold and green on one
side and gray shadow on the other a haze lay low upon the
farthest Skyline out of which jutted the Fantastic shapes of
bell over and Vixen tour over the wide expanse.
There was no sound and no movement one great gray bird a
gull or curl. You soared Aloft in the Blue
Heaven. He and I Seem to be the only
living things between the huge arch of the sky and the desert
beneath it. The baron seen the sense of
loneliness and the mystery and urgency of my tasks, all struck
a chill into my heart. The boy was nowhere to be seen
but down beneath me in a cleft of the hills, there was a circle
of the Old Stone huts and in the middle of them, it was one which
retained sufficient roof to act as a screen against the weather.
My heart leaped within me, as I saw it, this must be the burrow
where the stranger looked at last.
My foot was on the threshold of his hiding place.
His secret was within my grasp. As I approached the Hut walking
as warily as Stapleton would do when with poise net, he drew
near the settled butterfly. I satisfied myself that the
place had indeed been used as a habitation, a vague pathway
Among The Boulders. Led to the dilapidated opening
which served as a door. All was silent within the
unknown might be looking there or he might be prowling on the
more my nerves tingled with the sense of adventure throwing
aside my cigarette. I closed my hand upon the butt
of My Revolver and walking swiftly up to the door.
I looked in the place was empty, but there were ample signs, that
had not come upon a false scent, this was certainly where the man
lived. Some blankets rolled in a
waterproof, lay upon the very stone slab upon which Neolithic
man had one slumbered, the ashes of a fire, were heaped in a
rude, great beside it. Lay some cooking utensils and a
bucket half full of water, a litter of empty tins, showed
that the place had been occupied for some time.
And I saw, as my eyes became accustomed to the checkered
light, a panicking and a half full bottle of spirits standing
in the corner. In the middle of the Hut.
A flat stone serve. The purpose of a table and upon
this stood, a small cloth. Bundle the same, no doubt which
I had seen through the telescope upon the shoulder of the boy.
It contained a loaf of bread at in tongue and two tins of
preserved. Peaches.
As I set it down again after having examined it, my heart
slipped to see that beneath it there, lay a sheet of paper with
writing upon it. I raised it and this was what I
read roughly scroll in pencil. Dr. Watson has gone to coombe
Tracey. For a minute, I stood there with
the paper in my hands sinking out.
The meaning of this Kurt message, it was, I then and not
Sir. Henry, who is being dogged by
this secret man? He had, not followed me himself,
but he had set an agent. The boy, perhaps upon my track,
and this was his report. Possibly, I had taken no steps
inside been upon the Moor which had not been observed and
reported Always, there was this feeling of an unseen force, a
fine, net drawn, round us with infinite, skill, and delicacy
holding a so lightly. That it was only at some Supreme
moment, that one realize that one was indeed entangled in its
meshes If there was one report there might be others.
So, I looked around the Hut in search of them.
There was no Trace. However, have anything of the
kind nor could I discover any sign which might indicate the
character or intentions of the man who lived in this singular
Place. Say that he must be of Spartan
habits and cared little for the Comforts of life when I thought
of the heavy rains and looked at the gaping roof.
I understood how strong and immutable must be the purpose
which had kept him in that inhospitable abode.
Was he our malignant enemy or was he by chance our guardian
angel? I swore that I would not leave
the Hut until I knew Outside, the sun was sinking low in the
west was Blazing with scarlet and gold.
Its Reflection was shot back in ready, Patches by the distant
pools, which lay amid the great grimpen mire there with the two
towers of Baskerville Hall. And there are distant blur of
smoke, which marked a village of grimpen between the two behind
the hill, was the house of the stapleton's.
Always sweet and mellow and peaceful in the golden evening
light. And yet, as I looked at them, my
soul shared, none of the piece of nature, but quivered at the
vagueness, and the terror of that interview, which every
instant was bringing nearer. With tingling nerves, but a
fixed purpose, I sat in the dark recess of the Hut and waited
with Samba patients for the coming of its tenant.
And then at last, I heard him far away came the sharp clink of
a boot striking upon a stone. Then another and yet another
coming nearer and nearer, I shrank back into the darkest
corner and cocked the pistol. In my pocket, determined not to
discover myself. Until I had an opportunity of
seeing something of The Stranger. there was a long pause
which showed that he had stopped, then once more the
footsteps approached and a shadow fell across the opening
of The Hut, It is a lovely evening.
My dear Watson did a well-known voice.
I really think that you will be more comfortable outside than
in. End of chapter 11.