peeped round the corner of the door.
Barrymore was crouching at the window with the candle held against
the glass. His profile was half turned towards me, and his face
seemed to be rigid with expectation as he stared out into the
blackness of the moor. For some minutes he stood watching intently.
Then he gave a deep groan and with an impatient gesture he put out
the light. Instantly I made my way back to my room, and very shortly
came the stealthy steps passing once more upon their return journey.
Long afterwards when I had fallen into a light sleep I heard a key
turn somewhere in a lock, but I could not tell whence the sound came.
What it all means I cannot guess, but there is some secret business
going on in this house of gloom which sooner or later we shall get to
the bottom of. I do not trouble you with my theories, for you asked
me to furnish you only with facts. I have had a long talk with Sir
Henry this morning, and we have made a plan of campaign founded upon
my observations of last night. I will not speak about it just now,
but it should make my next report interesting reading.
CHAPTER IX
Second Report of Dr. Watson
THE LIGHT UPON THE MOOR
Baskerville Hall, Oct. 15th.
My dear Holmes:
If I was compelled to leave you without much news during the early
days of my mission you must acknowledge that I am making up for lost
time, and that events are now crowding thick and fast upon us. In my
last report I ended upon my top note with Barrymore at the window,
and now I have quite a budget already which will, unless I am much
mistaken, considerably surprise you. Things have taken a turn which I
could not have anticipated. In some ways they have within the last
forty-eight hours become much clearer and in some ways they have
become more complicated. But I will tell you all and you shall judge
for yourself.
Before breakfast on the morning following my adventure I went down
the corridor and examined the room in which Barrymore had been on the
night before. The western window through which he had stared so
intently has, I noticed, one peculiarity above all other windows in
the house--it commands the nearest outlook on the moor. There is an
opening between two trees which enables one from this point of view
to look right down upon it, while from all the other windows it is
only a distant glimpse which can be obtained. It follows, therefore,
that Barrymore, since only this window would serve the purpose, must
have been looking out for something or somebody upon the moor. The
night was very dark, so that I can hardly imagine how he could have
hoped to see anyone. It had struck me that it was possible that some
love intrigue was on foot. That would have accounted for his stealthy
movements and also for the uneasiness of his wife. The man is a
striking-looking fellow, very well equipped to steal the heart of a
country girl, so that this theory seemed to have something to support
it. That opening of the door which I had heard after I had returned
to my room might mean that he had gone out to keep some clandestine
appointment. So I reasoned with myself in the morning, and I tell you
the direction of my suspicions, however much the result may have
shown that they were unfounded.
But whatever the true explanation of Barrymore's movements might be,
I felt that the responsibility of keeping them to myself until I
could explain them was more than I could bear. I had an interview
with the baronet in his study after breakfast, and I told him all
that I had seen. He was less surprised than I had expected.
"I knew that Barrymore walked about nights, and I had a mind to speak
to him about it," said he. "Two or three times I have heard his steps
in the passage, coming and going, just about the hour you name."
"Perhaps then he pays a visit every night to that particular window,"
I suggested.
"Perhaps he does. If so, we should be able to shadow him, and see
what it is that he is after. I wonder what your friend Holmes would
do, if he were here."
"I believe that he would do exactly what you now suggest," said I.
"He would follow Barrymore and see what he did."
"Then we shall do it together."
"But surely he would hear us."
"The man is rather deaf, and in any case we must take our chance of
that. We'll sit up in my room to-night and wait until he passes." Sir
Henry rubbed his hands with pleasure, and it was evident that he
hailed the adventure as a relief to his somewhat quiet life upon the
moor.
The baronet has been in communication with the architect who prepared
the plans for Sir Charles, and with a contractor from London, so that
we may expect great changes to begin here soon. There have been
decorators and furnishers up from Plymouth, and it is evident that
our friend has large ideas, and means to spare no pains or expense to
restore the grandeur of his family. When the house is renovated and
refurnished, all that he will need will be a wife to make it
complete. Between ourselves there are pretty clear signs that this
will not be wanting if the lady is willing, for I have seldom seen a
man more infatuated with a woman than he is with our beautiful
neighbour, Miss Stapleton. And yet the course of true love does not
run quite as smoothly as one would under the circumstances expect.
To-day, for example, its surface was broken by a very unexpected
ripple, which has caused our friend considerable perplexity and
annoyance.
After the conversation which I have quoted about Barrymore, Sir Henry
put on his hat and prepared to go out. As a matter of course I did
the same.
"What, are you coming, Watson?" he asked, looking at me in a curious
way.
"That depends on whether you are going on the moor," said I.
"Yes, I am."
"Well, you know what my instructions are. I am sorry to intrude, but
you heard how earnestly Holmes insisted that I should not leave you,
and especially that you should not go alone upon the moor."
Sir Henry put his hand upon my shoulder with a pleasant smile.
"My dear fellow," said he, "Holmes, with all his wisdom, did not
foresee some things which have happened since I have been on the
moor. You understand me? I am sure that you are the last man in the
world who would wish to be a spoil-sport. I must go out alone."
It put me in a most awkward position. I was at a loss what to say or
what to do, and before I had made up my mind he picked up his cane
and was gone.
But when I came to think the matter over my conscience reproached me
bitterly for having on any pretext allowed him to go out of my sight.
I imagined what my feelings would be if I had to return to you and to
confess that some misfortune had occurred through my disregard for
your instructions. I assure you my cheeks flushed at the very
thought. It might not even now be too late to overtake him, so I set
off at once in the direction of Merripit House.
I hurried along the road at the top of my speed without seeing
anything of Sir Henry, until I came to the point where the moor path
branches off. There, fearing that perhaps I had come in the wrong
direction after all, I mounted a hill from which I could command a
view--the same hill which is cut into the dark quarry. Thence I saw
him at once. He was on the moor path, about a quarter of a mile off,
and a lady was by his side who could only be Miss Stapleton. It was
clear that there was already an understanding between them and that
they had met by appointment. They were walking slowly along in deep
conversation, and I saw her making quick little movements of her
hands as if she were very earnest in what she was saying, while he
listened intently, and once or twice shook his head in strong
dissent. I stood among the rocks watching them, very much puzzled as
to what I should do next. To follow them and break into their
intimate conversation seemed to be an outrage, and yet my clear duty
was never for an instant to let him out of my sight. To act the spy
upon a friend was a hateful task. Still, I could see no better course
than to observe him from the hill, and to clear my conscience by
confessing to him afterwards what I had done. It is true that if any
sudden danger had threatened him I was too far away to be of use, and
yet I am sure that you will agree with me that the position was very
difficult, and that there was nothing more which I could do.
Our friend, Sir Henry, and the lady had halted on the path and were
standing deeply absorbed in their conversation, when I was suddenly
aware that I was not the only witness of their interview. A wisp of
green floating in the air caught my eye, and another glance showed me
that it was carried on a stick by a man who was moving among the
broken ground. It was Stapleton with his butterfly-net. He was very
much closer to the pair than I was, and he appeared to be moving in
their direction. At this instant Sir Henry suddenly drew Miss
Stapleton to his side. His arm was round her, but it seemed to me
that she was straining away from him with her face averted. He
stooped his head to hers, and she raised one hand as if in protest.
Next moment I saw them spring apart and turn hurriedly round.
Stapleton was the cause of the interruption. He was running wildly
towards them, his absurd net dangling behind him. He gesticulated and
almost danced with excitement in front of the lovers. What the scene
meant I could not imagine, but it seemed to me that Stapleton was
abusing Sir Henry, who offered explanations, which became more angry
as the other refused to accept them. The lady stood by in haughty
silence. Finally Stapleton turned upon his heel and beckoned in a
peremptory way to his sister, who, after an irresolute glance at Sir
Henry, walked off by the side of her brother. The naturalist's angry
gestures showed that the lady was included in his displeasure. The
baronet stood for a minute looking after them, and then he walked
slowly back the way that he had come, his head hanging, the very
picture of dejection.
What all this meant I could not imagine, but I was deeply ashamed to
have witnessed so intimate a scene without my friend's knowledge. I
ran down the hill therefore and met the baronet at the bottom. His
face was flushed with anger and his brows were wrinkled, like one who
is at his wit's ends what to do.
"Halloa, Watson! Where have you dropped from?" said he. "You don't
mean to say that you came after me in spite of all?"
I explained everything to him: how I had found it impossible to
remain behind, how I had followed him, and how I had witnessed all
that had occurred. For an instant his eyes blazed at me, but my
frankness disarmed his anger, and he broke at last into a rather
rueful laugh.
"You would have thought the middle of that prairie a fairly safe
place for a man to be private," said he, "but, by thunder, the whole
country-side seems to have been out to see me do my wooing--and a
mighty poor wooing at that! Where had you engaged a seat?"
"I was on that hill."
"Quite in the back row, eh? But her brother was well up to the front.
Did you see him come out on us?"
"Yes, I did."
"Did he ever strike you as being crazy--this brother of hers?"
"I can't say that he ever did."
"I dare say not. I always thought him sane enough until to-day, but
you can take it from me that either he or I ought to be in a
strait-jacket. What's the matter with me, anyhow? You've lived near
me for some weeks, Watson. Tell me straight, now! Is there anything
that would prevent me from making a good husband to a woman that I
loved?"
"I should say not."
"He can't object to my worldly position, so it must be myself that he
has this down on. What has he against me? I never hurt man or woman
in my life that I know of. And yet he would not so much as let me
touch the tips of her fingers."
"Did he say so?"
"That, and a deal more. I tell you, Watson, I've only known her these
few weeks, but from the first I just felt that she was made for me,
and she, too--she was happy when she was with me, and that I'll
swear. There's a light in a woman's eyes that speaks louder than
words. But he has never let us get together, and it was only to-day
for the first time that I saw a chance of having a few words with her
alone. She was glad to meet me, but when she did it was not love that
she would talk about, and she wouldn't have let me talk about it
either if she could have stopped it. She kept coming back to it that
this was a place of danger, and that she would never be happy until I
had left it. I told her that since I had seen her I was in no hurry
to leave it, and that if she really wanted me to go, the only way to
work it was for her to arrange to go with me. With that I offered in
as many words to marry her, but before she could answer, down came
