The Hound of the Baskervilles - Chapter 7

Books at Bedtime by Calming Anxiety The Hounds of the Baskervilles Chapter 7 The Stapletons of Meripit House The fresh beauty of the following morning Did something to a face from our minds The Grimm and Grey Impression Which had been left upon both of us By our first experience of Baskerville Hall As the Henry and I sat at breakfast The sunlight flooded in through the high, millioned windows Throwing watery patches of colour From the coats of arms which covered them The dark paneling glowed like bronze In the golden rays And it was hard to realise 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 tied with our journey And killed by our drive So we took a grave 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, happen to hear someone A woman I think sobbing in the night That is curious, for I did when 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 heard it distinctly And I am sure that it was a real sob of a woman We must ask about this right away He rang the bell and asked Baramort 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, Sir Henry, 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 it chants that after breakfast I met Mrs. Baramort 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 her mouth But her telltale eyes were red And glanced at me from between swollen lids It was she then who wept in the night And if she did so, her husband must know it Yet he had taken the obvious risk of discovery In declaring that it was not so Why he'd 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 Baramort After all, whom we had seen in the cabin-regient street? The beard might well have been the same The cabman had described a somewhat shorter man But such an impression might easily have been erroneous How could I settle the point forever?

Obviously, the first thing to do Was to see the grim-p and postmaster and find whether the test telegram had rarely been placed in Baramort's own hands Be the answer what it might, I should at least have something to report to Sherlock Holmes Sir Henry had numerous papers to examine after breakfast So that the time was preportious for my excursion It was a pleasant walk of four miles along the edge of the mall Leading me at last to a small grey hamlet In which two larger buildings, which proved to be the inn 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 held the telegram delivered to Mr Baramort exactly as directed Who delivered it? My boy here, James, you delivered that telegram to Mr Baramort at the hall 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 I could not put it in his own hands But I gave it to Mrs Baramort's hands and she promised to deliver it at once Did you see Mr Baramort? 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 is any mistake, it is for Mr Baramort himself to complain It seemed hopeless to pursue the inquiry any further But it was clear that in spite of Holmes' rule, we had no proof that Baramort had not been in London all the time Suppose that it was so, suppose that the same man had been the last who had seen Sir Charles alive And the first to dog the new heir when he returned to England What then? Was he the agent of others and had he some sinister design of his own? What interest could he have in persecuting the Baskerville family? I thought of a strange warning, clipped out at the leading articles at the times Was that his work?

Was it possibly the doing of someone who was bent upon counteracting his schemes? The only conceivable motive was that which had been suggested by Sir Henry That if the family could be scared away, a comfortable and permanent home would be secured for the Baramors But surely, such an explanation 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 Baramort 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 grey lonely road that my friend might soon be freed from his preoccupations and able to come down to take this 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 my 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-jord Between 30 and 40 years of age, dressed in a grey suit and wearing a straw hat A tin box for botanical specimens hung over his shoulders and he carried a green butterfly net in one of his hands You will, I am assured, excuse my presumption Dr Watson said he as he came panting up to where I stood Here on the more, we are 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 Meripit House Your net-in-box would have told me as much, said I For I knew that Mr Stapleton was an actualist But how did you know me? I have 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 would overtake you and introduce myself I trust that Sir Henry has none the worse for his journey He is very well, thank you We were all rather afraid that after the sad death of Sir Charles the new baronette 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 needs a very great deal to the countryside Sir Henry has, I suppose, no superstitions fear in the matter I do not think that is likely Of course, you know the legend of the fiend dog which haunts the family Yes, I have heard it It is extraordinary how credulous the peasants are about here Any number of them are ready to swear that they have seen such crits up on the moor He spoke with a smile but I seem to read in his eyes that 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 Ualli I feared that some disaster might occurred But I was very fond of the old man and I knew that his heart was weak How did you know that? My friend Mortimer told me You think then that the some dog pursued Sir Charles And that he died of fright in the consequence?

Have you a better explanation? Well, 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 Doctor Watson said he The records of your detective have reached us here And you could not celebrate him without being known yourself When Mortimer told me your name, he could not disanite 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 view he may take I am afraid that I cannot answer that question May I ask if he is going to honour us with a visit himself He cannot leave town at present He has other cases which engage his attention What a pity He might throw some light on that which is so dark to us But as to our own researchers 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 proposed to investigate the case I might perhaps even now give you some aid or advise 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 reprieved for what I feel was an unjustifiable intrusion and I promise you that I will not mention the matter again We had come to the point where a narrow grassy path struck off from the road and wound away across the mall A steep, bolder sprinkled hill 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 distance rise, they have floated a grey plume of smoke A moderate walk along the mall path Brunsus to Merrippet House said he "Perhaps you 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's side But then I remembered the pile of papers and bills with which his study table was letted It was certain that I could not help with those and Holmes had expressly said that I should study the neighbours upon the mall I accepted Stapleton's invitation and we'd turned together down the path "It is a wonderful place" the mall said he Looking round over the undulating downs The long green rollers with crests of chaligate granite foaming up into fantastic surges You never tire of the mall You cannot think the wonderful secrets which it contains It is so vast and so barren and so mysterious You know it well then I have only been here two years The residents would call me a newcomer We came shortly after the child settled But my taste led me to explore every part of the country round And I should think that there are a few men who know 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 hills breaking out of it Do you observe anything remarkable about that?

It would 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 seem more fertile than the rest Stapleton laughed That is the great Grumpenmayer said he A false step beyond it means death to a man or beast Only yesterday I saw one of the more ponies wander into it He never came out I saw his head for quite a long time Craning out of the boghole But it sucked him down at last Even in the 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 is another of those miserable ponies Something brown was rolling and tossing among the green sedges Then a long, agonised, writhing neck, shot upward And a dreadful cry echoed over the moor It turned me cold with horror But my companions' nerves seemed to be stronger than mine It's gone, said he The mire has him Two in two days and many more perhaps For they forget and they go in there in the dry weather And never know the difference until the mire has them in its clutches It's a bad place, the great Grumpenmayer And you say you can penetrate it Yes, there are one or two paths Which a very active man can take I have found them out But why would you wish to go into so horrible a place? Well, you see the hills beyond They are rarely islands cut off on all sides by the impassable mire Which has crawled around them in the course of the years That is where the rare plants and the butterflies are If you have the wit to reach them I shall try my luck someday He looked at me with a surprised face For God's sake puts such an idea out of your mind, said he Your blood would be upon my head I assure you that there would not be the least chance of you coming back alive It is only by remembering certain complex landmarks that I am able to do so Hello, I cried What is that? A long, low moan Indescribably sad, swept over them all It filled the whole air and yet it was impossible to say when it came From a dull murmur it swelled into a deep roar And then sank back into a melancholy A throbbing murmur once again Stapleton looked at me with a curious expression in his face Queer place them all said he But what is it? The peasants say it is the hound of the basketballs Calling for its prey I've heard it one or twice before But never quite so loud I looked round With the chill of fear in my heart At the huge swelling plain Mottled with the green patches of rashes Nothing stirred over the vast expanse Save a pair of ravens which cloked loudly From one tour behind it 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 the mud settling or 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's a very rare bird Practically extinct Well in England now But all things are possible upon them all Yes I should not be surprised to learn That what we have heard is the cry Of one of the last of the bittons It's the weirdest, strangest thing I've ever heard in my life Yes It's a rather an uncanny place altogether Look at that hillside yonder What do you make of those? The whole steep slope Was covered with grey circular rings of stones A score of them at least What are they? Sheep pins?

No They are the homes of our worthy ancestors Prehistoric man lived thickly on the more And as no one in particular has lived their sins We find all these little arrangements exactly as he left them These are hiswickwams with the roofs off You can even see his half and his couch If you have the curiosity to go inside But it is a quiet town When was it inhabited? Near a left-thick man, no date What did he do? He grazed his cattle on these slopes And he learned to dig for tin When the bronze sword began to supersede the stone axe Look at that great trench in the opposite hill That is his mark Yes You will find some very singular points about them all Dr Watson Oh, excuse me an instant It is surely cyclopadise A small fly or moth had flooded across our path And in an instant, Stapleton was rushing With extraordinary energy and speed and pursuit of it To my dismay, the creature flew straight For the great mire, and my acquaintance never paused for an instant Bounding from tough to tough behind it His green-net waving in the air His grey clothes, and jerky jigsag Irregular progress made him not unlike some huge moth himself I was standing watching his pursuit With a mixture of admiration for his extraordinary activity And fearless, he should lose his footing in the treacherous mire When I heard the sound of steps And turning round, found a woman near me upon the path She had come from their direction In which the plume of smoke indicated The position of Meripet House But the dip of the moth had hid her until she was quite close I could not doubt that this was Miss Stapleton Of whom I'd been told, since ladies of any sort Must be few upon the morn, and I remembered That I'd heard someone describe her as being a beauty The woman who approached me was certainly that And of an utmost uncommon type There could not have been a great contrast between brother and sister For Stapleton was neutral tinted With light hair and grey eyes While she was darker than any brunette I've seen in England Slim, elegant and tall He had a proud, finely cut face So regular that it might have seemed impassive Were not for the slenstive mouth And the beautiful, dark, eager eyes With her perfect figure, an elegant dress She was indeed a strange apparition upon a lonely mollum path Her eyes were on her brother as I turned And then she quickened her pace towards me I'd raised my hat and was about to make some explanatory 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 in the 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 ask you Go back and never set foot upon the mollum 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 is coming, not a word of what I have said Would you mind getting that orchard for me Among the mayors tales yonder We are very rich in orchards on the moll Though, of course, you are rather late to see the beauties of the place Stapleton had abandoned the chase and come back to us 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 are very hot Yes, I was chasing a cyclopadise He is a very rare and seldom found in the late autumn What a pity that I should have missed him He spoke unconsurably But his small bright eyes glanced incessantly from the girl to me You have introduced yourselves, I can see Yes, I was telling Sir Henry that it was rather late for him to see the true beauties of the moll Why? Who do you think this is?

Why imagine that it must be Sir Henry Baskerville No no, sir, I only a humble commoner, but his friend My name is Dr Watson A flush of exation passed over her expression's face We have been talking at cross-purpose, as she said 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 merely a visitor Said she, "It cannot much matter to him Whether it is early or late for the orchards But you will come on, will you not, and see Meripit House?" A short walk brought us to it, a bleak molland house Once the farm of some grazier in the old prosperous days But now put into repair and turned into a modern dwelling An orchard surrounded it, but the trees, as is usual upon the moor, were stunted and nipped And the effect of the whole place was mean and melancholy We were admitted by a strange, wise and rusty coated old man servant Who seemed in keeping with the house Inside, however, there were large rooms furnished with an elegance in which I'd seem to recognise the taste of the lady As I looked from their windows, at the interminable granite flaked moor Rolling unbroken to the farther star-rising, I could not but marvel At what could have been brought, this highly educated man, and his beautiful woman to live in such a place Queer spot to choose, is it not? Said he, as if an answer to my thought, and yet we managed to make ourselves fairly happy, Do we not, Beryl? Quite happy, Sushi, 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 temperate was mechanical and uninteresting But the privilege of living with the youth, of helping to mould 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 brought how can in the school, and three of the boys died It never recovered from that blow And much of my capital was irretrievably swodder And yet, if it were not for the loss of the charming companionship of the boys, I could rejoice over thimped my own misfortune For with my strong taste for botany and zoology, I found an unlimited field of work here And my sister is a devoted to nature as I am All this, dox, or what, has been brought upon your head by your expression As you surveyed them all out of the window It certainly did cross my mind, that it might be a little dull, less for you perhaps than for your sister No, no, I am never dulled, she said quickly We have books, we have our studies, and we have interesting neighbours Dr Mortimer is the most learned man in this 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 and make the acquaintance of Sir Henry I am sure that he would be delighted Then perhaps you would mention that I proposed to do so We may in our own humble way, do something to make things more easy for him Until he becomes accustomed to the new surroundings Will you come upstairs Dr Watson, and inspect my collection of leopardotra?

I think it is the most complete one in the south west of England By the time that you have overlooked them, lunch will most certainly be 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 had been associated with the grim legend of the Baskervilles All these things tinged my thoughts with sadness Then on the top of these more or less vague impressions They had come the definite and distinct warnings of Mistapleton Delivered with such intense earnestness That I could not doubt that some grave and deep reason lay behind it I resisted all pressure to stay for lunch And I set off at once upon my return journey Taking the grass grown path by which we had come It seems, however, that there must have been some shortcut for those who knew it For before I had reached the road I was astounded to see Mistapleton sitting upon a rock by the side of the track The face was beautifully flushed with her exertions and she held her hand to her side I have run all the way in order to cut you off Dr Watson's itchy I had not even time to put on my hat I must not stop all my brother may miss me I wanted to say to 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 the Mistapleton said I am I am Sir Henry's friend and his welfare is a very close concern of mine Tell me why it is 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 can 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 Mistapleton For ever since I've been here I've been conscious of shadows all around me Life has become like the great Grimpin Maya With little green patches everywhere into which one may think and with no guide to point the track Tell me then what it was that 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, she said 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 Mauret at Ahels He has 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 with which he had expressed I was distressed therefore when another member of the family came down here to live And I felt that he should be warned of the danger which he will run That was all which I intended to convey But what is that 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 Then 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 then one more question Mr. Stapleton If you meant no more than this when we first spoke Why should you not wish your brother to overhear what you said There is nothing to which he or anyone else could object My brother is very anxious to have the hall inhabited For he thinks it is good for the poor folk upon the more He would be very angry If he knew that I have said anything which might induce Sir Henry to go away But I have done my duty now and I will say no more I must go back or he 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 back to Baskerville Hall