Sherlock Holmes: Hounds of the Baskervilles ( In English ) – 12 Death on the Tragedy of the Moor Moor

<h1 class="pgc-h-arrow-right"> Death on the Moor</h1>

<h1 class= "pgc-h-arrow-right" > tragedy on the moor</h1>

For a moment or two I sat breathless, hardly able to believe my ears. Then my senses and my voice came back to me, while a crushing weight of responsibility seemed in an instant to be lifted from my soul. That cold, incisive, ironical voice could belong to but one man in all the world.

I sat there holding my breath for a minute or two, unable to believe my ears. Later, I was able to speak, and at the same time the extremely heavy responsibility seemed to be immediately lifted from my heart. For that cold, sharp and mocking voice could only belong to that person.

"Holmes!" I cried -- "Holmes!"

"Sherlock Holmes!" I shouted, "Holmes! ”

"Come out," said he, "and please be careful with the revolver."

"Come out!" He said, "Watch out for your revolver." ”

I stooped under the rude lintel, and there he sat upon a stone outside, his gray eyes dancing with amusement as they fell upon my astonished features. He was thin and worn, but clear and alert, his keen face bronzed by the sun and roughened by the wind. In his tweed suit and cloth cap he looked like any other tourist upon the moor, and he had contrived, with that catlike love of personal cleanliness which was one of his characteristics, that his chin should be as smooth and his linen as perfect as if he were in Baker Street.

I arched under the rough door frame and saw him sitting on a rock outside. When he saw my surprised expression, his gray eyes turned with delight. He looked thin and dark, but sober and alert, his clever face brown from the sun and roughened by the wind and sand. He was dressed in Scottish clothes and wore a cloth hat, and looked exactly like anyone who traveled on the moor, and he could still care for his personal cleanliness like a cat, which was a characteristic of his, his chin was still shaved, and his clothes were as clean as when he lived on Baker Street.

"I never was more glad to see anyone in my life," said I as I wrung him by the hand.

"In my life, I have never lived faster than ever because I saw anyone." I shook his hand as I spoke.

"Or more astonished, eh?"

"Or more surprising than that, huh?"

"Well, I must confess to it."

"Oh, I have to admit it."

"The surprise was not all on one side, I assure you. I had no idea that you had found my occasional retreat, still less that you were inside it, until I was within twenty paces of the door."

"It's not just a one-sided surprise. I tell you, I really didn't expect you to find my temporary hiding place, and I didn't think you were already hiding in the house until I was less than twenty steps from this door. ”

"My footprint, I presume?"

"I guess it's because of my footprints?"

"No, Watson, I fear that I could not undertake to recognize your footprint amid all the footprints of the world. If you seriously desire to deceive me you must change your tobacconist; for when I see the stub of a cigarette marked Bradley, Oxford Street, I know that my friend Watson is in the neighbourhood. You will see it there beside the path. You threw it down, no doubt, at that supreme moment when you charged into the empty hut."

"No, Watson, I'm afraid I can't guarantee that I can recognize your footprints from the footprints of the whole world." If you really want to fool me, you have to change your paper cigarettes, because as soon as I saw the cigarette butt printed 'Bradley, Oxford Street', I knew that my friend Watson must be nearby. You can still find it on the side of the path. There is no doubt that you threw it away at the critical moment when you rushed into the empty house. ”

"Exactly."

"Exactly."

"I thought as much -- and knowing your admirable tenacity I was convinced that you were sitting in ambush, a weapon within reach, waiting for the tenant to return. So you actually thought that I was the criminal?"

"I thought of this, and knowing your admirable, tenacious character, I knew you were sitting in the dark, holding your pistol in your hand, waiting for the owner of the house to return. Do you really think I'm the fugitive? ”

"I did not know who you were, but I was determined to find out."

"I don't know who you are, but I'm determined to figure that out."

"Excellent, Watson! And how did you localize me? You saw me, perhaps, on the night of the convict hunt, when I was so imprudent as to allow the moon to rise behind me?"

"Great, Watson! How do you know where I am? Maybe on the night of the fugitive capture, I accidentally stood in front of the rising moon and was seen by you? ”

"Yes, I saw you then."

"By the way, I saw you that time."

"And have no doubt searched all the huts until you came to this one?"

"You must have searched all the huts before you found this stone house, right?"

"No, your boy had been observed, and that gave me a guide where to look."

"No, I saw the kid you hired, and he pointed me in the direction of my search."

"The old gentleman with the telescope, no doubt. I could not make it out when first I saw the light flashing upon the lens." He rose and peeped into the hut. "Ha, I see that Cartwright has brought up some supplies. What's this paper? So you have been to Coombe Tracey, have you?"

"I saw it from the old gentleman who had a telescope." When I first saw the flashing reflections on that lens, I couldn't figure out what it was. He stood up and glanced into the hut, "Ha, catale has brought me something to eat again, what is this piece of paper?" Turns out you've been to Combe Tracy, haven't you? ”

"Yes."

"That's right."

"To see Mrs. Laura Lyons?"

"Go find Mrs. Laura Lyons?"

"That's it."

"Well done! Our researches have evidently been running on parallel lines, and when we unite our results I expect we shall have a fairly full knowledge of the case."

"Well done! Obviously, the direction of our research is the same, and I hope that when the results of our research are put together, we will have a fuller understanding of this case. ”

"Well, I am glad from my heart that you are here, for indeed the responsibility and the mystery were both becoming too much for my nerves. But how in the name of wonder did you come here, and what have you been doing? I thought that you were in Baker Street working out that case of blackmailing."

"Hey, I'm happy to be here, and my nerves can't stand the gravity of the blame and the mystery of the case." But how did you get here? What are you doing? I thought you were working on the anonymous threatening letter case on Baker Street. ”

"That was what I wished you to think."

"I want you to think that."

"Then you use me, and yet do not trust me!" I cried with some bitterness. "I think that I have deserved better at your hands, Holmes."

"It turns out that you are using me, but you don't trust me!" I cried out angrily and annoyedly, "I don't think I should be here in your eyes, Holmes." ”

"My dear fellow, you have been invaluable to me in this as in many other cases, and I beg that you will forgive me if I have seemed to play a trick upon you. In truth, it was partly for your own sake that I did it, and it was my appreciation of the danger which you ran which led me to come down and examine the matter for myself. Had I been with Sir Henry and you it is confident that my point of view would have been the same as yours, and my presence would have warned our very formidable opponents to be on their guard. As it is, I have been able to get about as I could not possibly have done had I been living in the Hall, and I remain an unknown factor in the business, ready to throw in all my weight at a critical moment."

"My dear companion, in this case, as in many other cases, your help to me is immeasurable, and if it seems that I have played any tricks on you, then please forgive me. In fact, part of the reason I want to do this is for your sake, and it is precisely because I have experienced the danger you are taking that I have come here to investigate this matter myself. If I were with you— Sir Henry and you — I am sure that your view would be the same as mine, and that as soon as I came forward, it would be tantamount to a warning to our opponents to be more careful. In fact, I have always been able to move freely, and if I lived on the estate, it would not have been possible. I made myself an unknown role in this matter, ready to give my all in a pinch. ”

"But why keep me in the dark?"

"But why keep me in the dark?"

"For you to know could not have helped us and might possibly have led to my discovery. You would have wished to tell me something, or in your kindness you would have brought me out some comfort or other, and so an unnecessary risk would be run. I brought Cartwright down with me -- you remember the little chap at the express office -- and he has seen after my simple wants: a loaf of bread and a clean collar. What does man want more? He has given me an extra pair of eyes upon a very active pair of feet, and both have been invaluable."

"Because letting you know doesn't help us, and maybe even make me discovered." You're bound to come and tell me something, or be kind enough to send me something, so that we're going to take unnecessary risks. I brought Catale with me—you must remember the little fellow at the helper's agency—and he took care of some of my simple needs: a loaf of bread and a clean collar. What else does a man need? He added me a pair of diligent feet and an extra pair of eyes, both of which were priceless to me. ”

"Then my reports have all been wasted!" -- My voice trembled as I recalled the pains and the pride with which I had composed them.

"Then, I am afraid that the reports I wrote will be in vain!" I think back to the hard work I felt when I wrote those reports and the pride of the time, and my tone of voice trembled.

Holmes took a bundle of papers from his pocket.

Holmes took a roll of paper from his pocket.

"Here are your reports, my dear fellow, and very well thumbed, I assure you. I made excellent arrangements, and they are only delayed one day upon their way. I must compliment you exceedingly upon the zeal and the intelligence which you have shown over an extraordinarily difficult case."

"This is your report, my dear companion, and it has been read over and over again, I assure you. I arranged it so well that it was only delayed for a day on the way. I must pay the highest tribute to you for the enthusiasm and wisdom with which you have worked on this extremely difficult case. ”

I was still rather raw over the deception which had been practised upon me, but the warmth of Holmes's praise drove my anger from my mind. I felt also in my heart that he was right in what he said and that it was really best for our purpose that I should not have known that he was upon the moor.

I was still very uncomfortable because I had been fooled, but the warmth of Holmes's words of praise drove away the anger in my heart. I also felt in my heart that he was right, that it would be best to achieve our goal, and that I should not have known that he had come to the moor.

"That's better," said he, seeing the shadow rise from my face. "And now tell me the result of your visit to Mrs. Laura Lyons -- it was not difficult for me to guess that it was to see her that you had gone, for I am already aware that she is the one person in Coombe Tracey who might be of service to us in the matter. In fact, if you had not gone to-day it is exceedingly probable that I should have gone to-morrow."

"That's fine," he said, after seeing that the shadow had disappeared from my face, "now tell me the results of your visit to Mrs. Laura Lyons." It's not hard for me to imagine that you went there to find her, because I already knew that in the place of Qom Tracy she was the only one who could help us in this matter. Seriously, if you don't go today, chances are I'm going tomorrow. ”

The sun had set and dusk was settling over the moor. The air had turned chill and we withdrew into the hut for warmth. There sitting together in the twilight, I told Holmes of my conversation with the lady. So interested was he that I had to repeat some of it twice before he was satisfied.

The sun had set and twilight hung over the entire moor. The air had become cold, so we retreated into the hut to warm up. We sat together in the twilight, and I told Holmes what I had spoken to the lady. He was very interested, and I had to repeat some parts twice before he was satisfied.

"This is most important," said he when I had concluded. "It fills up a gap which I had been unable to bridge in this most complex affair. You are aware, perhaps, that a close intimacy exists between this lady and the man Stapleton?"

"It's very important," he said when I was done, "and it fills in the gap that I cannot connect with in this most complicated matter." Maybe you already know that there is a very close relationship between this lady and Mr. Stapleton? ”

"I did not know of a close intimacy."

"I didn't know about this intimate relationship!"

"There can be no doubt about the matter. They meet, they write, there is a complete understanding between them. Now, this puts a very powerful weapon into our hands. If I could only use it to detach his wife "

"There is no doubt about it. They often meet, communicate, and know each other very well. This now gives us an extra powerful weapon. As long as we use this to divide his wife..."

"His wife?"

"His wife?!"

"I am giving you some information now, in return for all that you have given me. The lady who has passed here as Miss Stapleton is in reality his wife."

"I will now offer you something to reward you for all that you have provided for me. The lady who was called Miss Stapleton here was actually his wife. ”

"Good heavens, Holmes! Are you sure of what you say? How could he have permitted Sir Henry to fall in love with her?"

"Oh my God, Holmes! What are you talking about?! How could he have made Sir Henry fall in love with her again? ”

"Sir Henry's falling in love could do no harm to anyone except Sir Henry. He took particular care that Sir Henry did not make love to her, as you have yourself observed. I repeat that the lady is his wife and not his sister."

"Sir Henry's fall into love will do no harm to anyone but Sir Henry himself. He had taken special care to avoid Sir Henry's courtship of her, as you could see with your own eyes. I repeat, that lady was his wife, not his sister. ”

"But why this elaborate deception?"

"But why did he engage in this painstaking deception?"

"Because he foresaw that she would be very much more useful to him in the character of a free woman."

"Because he had already seen it, it would be much more useful for him to have her dressed as an unmarried woman."

All my unspoken instincts, my vague suspicions, suddenly took shape and centred upon the naturalist. In that impassive colourless man, with his straw hat and his butterfly-net, I seemed to see something terrible -- a creature of infinite patience and craft, with a smiling face and a murderous heart.

All my guesses, my vague suspicions, suddenly became concrete, and they all focused on biologists. In this man in a straw hat and a butterfly net, who lacked enthusiasm and character, I seemed to see something terrible—infinite patience and cunning, a pretentious smile and a vicious heart.

"It is he, then, who is our enemy -- it is he who dogged us in London?"

"So our enemy is him, and he is the one who follows us in London?"

"So I read the riddle."

"That's how I saw through the mystery."

"And the warning -- it must have come from her!"

"She must have sent that warning?"

The shape of some monstrous villainy, half seen, half guessed, loomed through the darkness which had girt me so long.

A terrible crime that had been haunting me for a long time, as if it were nothing, half conjecture, had been looming in the darkness.

"But are you sure of this, Holmes? How do you know that the woman is his wife?"

"But are you sure of that, Holmes?" How do you know that the woman is his wife? ”

"Because he so far forgot himself as to tell you a true piece of autobiography upon the occasion when he first met you, and I dare say he has many a time regretted it since. He was once a schoolmaster in the north of England. Now, there is no one more easy to trace than a schoolmaster. There are scholastic agencies by which one may identify any man who has been in the profession. A little investigation showed me that a school had come to grief under atrocious circumstances, and that the man who had owned it -- the name was different -- had disappeared with his wife. The descriptions agreed. When I learned that the missing man was devoted to entomology the identification was complete."

"Because when he first met you, he involuntarily told you the real thing about his life." I dare say that since then he has regretted it more than once. He had once been a principal of primary schools in the north of England, and now there is no easier way to be investigated than a small school principal, and it is possible to find out through the educational institutions anyone who has worked in the field of education. I investigated a little to find out that there had been an elementary school that had collapsed under extremely bad circumstances, and that the owner of the school— with a different name — and his wife were gone. Their physiognomy is consistent with what we see here. When I learned that the missing man was equally passionate about entomology, the work of identifying the characters was completely over. ”

The darkness was rising, but much was still hidden by the shadows.

The dark curtain has gradually been revealed, but most of the truth is still hidden.

"If this woman is in truth his wife, where does Mrs. Laura Lyons come in?" I asked.

"If this woman is really his wife, then how can another Mrs. Laura Lyons be inserted?" I asked.

"That is one of the points upon which your own researches have shed a light. Your interview with the lady has cleared the situation very much. I did not know about a projected divorce between herself and her husband. In that case, regarding Stapleton as an unmarried man, she counted no doubt upon becoming his wife."

"This is one of all the problems that has been revealed by your probing work. Your visit to that lady has made the situation much clearer. I hadn't heard of her and her husband wanting a divorce. If she had planned a divorce and treated Stapleton as an unmarried man, she would no doubt have thought of being his wife. ”

"And when she is undeceived?"

"But what if she figured out the deception?"

"Why, then we may find the lady of service. It must be our first duty to see her -- both of us -- to-morrow. Don't you think, Watson, that you are away from your charge rather long? Your place should be at Baskerville Hall."

"Ah, then this lady might be useful to us." Of course, we should go to her first—the two of us will go tomorrow. Watson, don't you think you've been away from your duties for too long? You were supposed to be staying at baskerville manor. ”

The last red streaks had faded away in the west and night had settled upon the moor. A few faint stars were gleaming in a violet sky.

The last rays of sunset also disappeared in the west, and night descended on the moor. In the purple sky, there were a few stars that were half bright and half dark.

"One last question, Holmes," I said as I rose. "Surely there is no need of secrecy between you and me. What is the meaning of it all? What is he after?"

"And one last question, Holmes," I said as I stood up, "of course there is no need to keep any secret between you and me. What does he mean by that? What is its purpose? ”

Holmes's voice sank as he answered:

When Holmes answered, his tone was lowered:

"It is murder, Watson -- refined, cold-blooded, deliberate murder. Do not ask me for particulars. My nets are closing upon him, even as his are upon Sir Henry, and with your help he is already almost at my mercy. There is but one danger which can threaten us. It is that he should strike before we are ready to do so. Another day -- two at the most -- and I have my case complete, but until then guard your charge as closely as ever a fond mother watched her ailing child. Your mission to-day has justified itself, and yet I could almost wish that you had not left his side. Hark!"

"This is murder, Watson, a deliberate murder with foresight and cruelty. Stop asking me for details. Just as his net surrounded Sir Henry, my net was tightly covering him, and with your help, he was almost in my pocket. There is only one danger left for us to fear, and that is that he may strike before we act. In one more day—two days at most—I will have finished the preparations for solving the case; until then, you will have to look closely at the person you protect like a deeply affectionate mother guarding her sick child. It turns out that what you did today was right, but I still hope that you will not leave his side in the future for better. listen! ”

A terrible scream -- a prolonged yell of horror and anguish burst out of the silence of the moor. That frightful cry turned the blood to ice in my veins.

A terrible scream—a barrage of fear and angry shouts—broke through the silence on the moor. The terrible cry made the blood in my veins almost coagulate.

"Oh, my God!" I gasped. "What is it? What does it mean?"

"Oh, my God!" I gasped, "What is this?" What does that mean? ”

Holmes had sprung to his feet, and I saw his dark, athletic outline at the door of the hut, his shoulders stooping, his head thrust forward, his face peering into the darkness.

Holmes stood up suddenly, and I saw his black, athlete-like body standing in the doorway of the small room, his shoulders drooping, his head sticking forward, looking into the darkness.

"Hush!" he whispered. "Hush!"

"Shhh!" He whispered, "Don't make a sound. ”

The cry had been loud on account of its vehemence, but it had pealed out from somewhere far off on the shadowy plain. Now it burst upon our ears, nearer, louder, more urgent than before.

Because of the urgency of the situation, the shout was loud, and at first it came from a great distance on the dark plain. The sound that now rushed into our ear drums was getting closer, louder, more urgent than ever.

"Where is it?" Holmes whispered; and I knew from the thrill of his voice that he, the man of iron, was shaken to the soul. "Where is it, Watson?"

"Which side?" Holmes asked in a low voice. In the excited voice of someone as strong as he was, I knew he was also deeply shocked, "Which side is it, Watson?" ”

"There, I think." I pointed into the darkness.

"I guess it's over there." I pointed out into the darkness.

"No, there!"

"No, it's over there."

Again the agonized cry swept through the silent night, louder and much nearer than ever. And a new sound mingled with it, a deep, muttered rumble, musical and yet menacing, rising and falling like the low, constant murmur of the sea.

The cry of pain resounded through the silent night, getting louder and closer than before. Mixed together was a new sound, a deep grunt, a pleasant and terrible sound, falling together, like the never-ending whisper of the sea.

"The hound!" cried Holmes. "Come, Watson, come! Great heavens, if we are too late!"

"It's a hound!" Holmes cried out, "Come, Watson! Come on. Oh, my God! Maybe we're too late! ”

He had started running swiftly over the moor, and I had followed at his heels. But now from somewhere among the broken ground immediately in front of us there came one last despairing yell, and then a dull, heavy thud. We halted and listened. Not another sound broke the heavy silence of the windless night.

He immediately ran quickly on the moor, and I followed him closely. But suddenly, right in front of us, there was a final scream of despair from the jagged and uneven patch of rubble, followed by a vague and heavy grunt. We stood and listened, and there was no other sound to break the dead silence of the windless night.

I saw Holmes put his hand to his forehead like a man distracted. He stamped his feet upon the ground.

I saw Holmes press his hand to his forehead like a deranged man and stomp his feet.

"He has beaten us, Watson. We are too late."

"He's beaten us, Watson. We came too late. ”

"No, no, surely not!"

"No, no, definitely not."

"Fool that I was to hold my hand. And you, Watson, see what comes of abandoning your charge! But, by Heaven, if the worst has happened we'll avenge him!"

"I'm such an idiot that I didn't take action, and you, Watson, now understand what the consequences of letting go of the people you are supposed to protect don't matter!" Oh, my God! If misfortune finally happens, then we will have to take revenge on him. ”

Blindly we ran through the gloom, blundering against boulders, forcing our way through gorse bushes, panting up hills and rushing down slopes, heading always in the direction whence those dreadful sounds had come. At every rise Holmes looked eagerly round him, but the shadows were thick upon the moor, and nothing moved upon its dreary face.

We ran forward in the darkness, bumping into the rocks from time to time, squeezing barely through the plantagenet bushes, running up the hill out of breath, and then rushing down another slope, all the way in the direction where the terrible sound came from. Every time he went up, Holmes looked anxiously around, but the moor was unusually dark, and nothing was moving on the desolate ground.

"Can you see anything?"

"Did you see anything?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing was seen."

"But, hark, what is that?"

"But what do you hear that sound?"

A low moan had fallen upon our ears. There it was again upon our left! On that side a ridge of rocks ended in a sheer cliff which overlooked a stone-strewn slope. On its jagged face was spread-eagled some dark, irregular object. As we ran towards it the vague outline hardened into a definite shape. It was a prostrate man face downward upon the ground, the head doubled under him at a horrible angle, the shoulders rounded and the body hunched together as if in the act of throwing a somersault. So grotesque was the attitude that I could not for the instant realize that that moan had been the passing of his soul. Not a whisper, not a rustle, rose now from the dark figure over which we stooped. Holmes laid his hand upon him and held it up again with an exclamation of horror. The gleam of the match which he struck shone upon his clotted fingers and upon the ghastly pool which widened slowly from the crushed skull of the victim. And it shone upon something else which turned our hearts sick and faint within us -- the body of Sir Henry Baskerville!

A low moan came into our eardrums, and it was on our left side again! There is a rock ridge on that side, and at the end is a cliff that goes straight up and down, and from there, you can see a rocky hillside. On the uneven ground, there was a pile of black rumbling, irregularly shaped objects. As we ran closer to it, the blurred outline became clear. It turned out to be a man lying on the ground, his head was horribly nestled under his body, and his body was curled up inwards, as if he was going to flip over and fight. His appearance was so special that I couldn't believe it at the time, and the sound I had just heard was that of his soul when it came out of its shell. The man we bent over looking at didn't say a word or move. Holmes grabbed him and lifted him up, screaming in horror. He drew a match, and the light shone on the dead man's fingers clasped together, and also on the slowly expanding pool of blood that flowed from his broken skull. The light of the fire also illuminated another thing that made us almost faint in pain—it was the corpse of Sir Henry Baskerville!

There was no chance of either of us forgetting that peculiar ruddy tweed suit -- the very one which he had worn on the first morning that we had seen him in Baker Street. We caught the one clear glimpse of it, and then the match flickered and went out, even as the hope had gone out of our souls. Holmes groaned, and his face glimmered white through the darkness.

Neither of us can forget that special hair? Red, made of Scottish tweed—the same suit he was wearing on Baker Street the first morning. We only glanced at it clearly, and the match flickered and then extinguished, as if hope had left our souls. Holmes groaned, and his pale face could be seen in the darkness.

"The brute! the brute!" I cried with clenched hands. "Oh Holmes, I shall never forgive myself for having left him to his fate."

"This beast! brute! I clenched my fists and shouted, "Holmes, I can never forgive myself, I left his side, so that he was doomed." ”

"I am more to blame than you, Watson. In order to have my case well rounded and complete, I have thrown away the life of my client. It is the greatest blow which has befallen me in my career. But how could I know -- how could l know -- that he would risk his life alone upon the moor in the face of all my warnings?"

"I'm worse than your sins, Watson. In order to make preparations for solving the case in all aspects, I actually gave up the life of our entrusted person. In my life's career, this is the biggest blow I have ever suffered. But how would I know—how could I know—that he had risked his life alone and run into the moor, in spite of all my warnings? ”

"That we should have heard his screams -- my God, those screams! -- and yet have been unable to save him! Where is this brute of a hound which drove him to his death? It may be lurking among these rocks at this instant. And Stapleton, where is he? He shall answer for this deed."

"We heard his cry—my God, that cry! But I couldn't save him! Where was the hound who put him to death? Now it may be spinning around between rocks. And Stapleton, where is he? He must be responsible for this. ”

"He shall. I will see to that. Uncle and nephew have been murdered -- the one frightened to death by the very sight of a beast which he thought to be supernatural, the other driven to his end in his wild flight to escape from it. But now we have to prove the connection between the man and the beast. Save from what we heard, we cannot even swear to the existence of the latter, since Sir Henry has evidently died from the fall. But, by heavens, cunning as he is, the fellow shall be in my power before another day is past!"

"Of course he's in charge. I promise to put him in charge. Both nephews had been killed—one was scared to death at the sight of the beast he thought was a demon; the other had fled away but had not been spared death. Now we have to try to prove the relationship between this man and the animal. If we hadn't heard the voice, we wouldn't have believed the beast's existence, for Sir Henry had apparently fallen to his death. But, God is on top, no matter how cunning he is, tomorrow, I will catch this guy! ”

We stood with bitter hearts on either side of the mangled body, overwhelmed by this sudden and irrevocable disaster which had brought all our long and weary labours to so piteous an end. Then as the moon rose we climbed to the top of the rocks over which our poor friend had fallen, and from the summit we gazed out over the shadowy moor, half silver and half gloom. Far away, miles off, in the direction of Grimpen, a single steady yellow light was shining. It could only come from the lonely abode of the Stapletons. With a bitter curse I shook my fist at it as I gazed.

We stood on either side of this flesh-and-blood corpse in sorrow, and our long period of toiling and toiling had ended up with such a pitiful result, this sudden and irreparable disaster, that our hearts felt extremely heavy. Later, after the moon had risen, we climbed up to the top of the rock where our poor friend had fallen, and gazed from the top into the dark moor. There was a silvery white glow in the darkness, and a few miles away, in the direction of the Grimm Basin, there was a single yellow fire shining, which could only be the lonely house from the Templeton family. I looked forward, fisted furiously at it, and cursed fiercely.

"Why should we not seize him at once?"

"Why don't we catch him right away?"

"Our case is not complete. The fellow is wary and cunning to the last degree. It is not what we know, but what we can prove. If we make one false move the villain may escape us yet."

"The conditions for us to solve the case are not yet ripe, and the guy is careful and cunning to the extreme; the question is not how much we have learned, but what we can prove." As long as we take a wrong step, the villain may slip away from our hands. ”

"What can we do?"

"So, what do we do?"

"There will be plenty for us to do to-morrow. To-night we can only perform the last offices to our poor friend."

"Tomorrow we have something to do, and tonight we will have to do the aftermath for our poor friend."

Together we made our way down the precipitous slope and approached the body, black and clear against the silvered stones. The agony of those contorted limbs struck me with a spasm of pain and blurred my eyes with tears.

The two of us descended the steep slope together and walked toward the corpse, the black body could be seen clearly on the stone reflecting the silver light; the painful look of the twisted limbs made me feel sad, and the tears blurred my eyes.

"We must send for help, Holmes! We cannot carry him all the way to the Hall. Good heavens, are you mad?" He had uttered a cry and bent over the body. Now he was dancing and laughing and wringing my hand. Could this be my stern, self-contained friend? These were hidden fires, indeed!

"We have to find someone to help, Holmes!" We can't carry him all the way to the manor..." Before I could finish my words, I heard him shout and bend down next to the corpse. I couldn't help but shout, "Oh my God, are you crazy!" Holmes danced, laughing and grabbing my hand and shaking it. Is this my serious and self-sustaining friend? This is really a suffocating fire!

"A beard! A beard! The man has a beard!"

"Beard! beard! This man has a beard! ”

"A beard?"

"Bearded?"

"It is not the baronet -- it is -- why, it is my neighbour, the convict!"

"This is not a baronet—this is—ah, this is my neighbor, the fugitive!"

With feverish haste we had turned the body over, and that dripping beard was pointing up to the cold, clear moon. There could be no doubt about the beetling forehead, the sunken animal eyes. It was indeed the same face which had glared upon me in the light of the candle from over the rock -- the face of Selden, the criminal.

I quickly turned the dead body over, and the blood-dripping beard curled toward the cold, clear moon. It would be no mistake to look at his protruding forehead and beastly sunken eyes, the face that shone before my eyes from behind the stones in the candlelight that day—the face of the fugitive Seldan.

Then in an instant it was all clear to me. I remembered how the baronet had told me that he had handed his old wardrobe to Barrymore. Barrymore had passed it on in order to help Selden in his escape. Boots, shirt, cap -- it was all Sir Henry's. The tragedy was still black enough, but this man had at least deserved death by the laws of his country. I told Holmes how the matter stood, my heart bubbling over with thankfulness and joy.

I understood at once, and I remembered what the Baronet had told me that he had given his old clothes to Barrymore. Barrymore transferred the clothes out to help Serdan escape, boots, shirts, hats—all of Sir Henry's. This tragedy was tragic enough, but according to the laws of the country, this person at least died unjustly. I told Holmes the reason for the incident, and my gratitude to God and the joy of my heart made my blood boil.

"Then the clothes have been the poor devil's death," said he. "It is clear enough that the hound has been laid on from some article of Sir Henry's -- the boot which was abstracted in the hotel, in all probability -- and so ran this man down. There is one very singular thing, however: How came Selden, in the darkness, to know that the hound was on his trail?"

"Well, this garment is the cause of the villain's death," he said, "and the problem is clear, that the hound was released for stalking after smelling what Sir Henry was wearing—most likely the tall leather shoe that had been stolen from the hotel—and thus the man was chased until he fell to his death." But one thing was very strange: how could Seldan know in the darkness that the dog was following him? ”

"He heard him."

"He heard it."

"To hear a hound upon the moor would not work a hard man like this convict into such a paroxysm of terror that he would risk recapture by screaming wildly for help. By his cries he must have run a long way after he knew the animal was on his track. How did he know?"

"Merely hearing the sound of a hound in the moor would never frighten a man as cruel as this fugitive to such an extent, or even risk being arrested again and crying out for help." Judging by his shouting, after he knew that the dog was chasing him, he must have run a long way with all his might. How did he know? ”

"A greater mystery to me is why this hound, presuming that all our conjectures are correct --"

"Another thing that I find particularly mysterious, if our inferences are entirely correct, then why is this dog..."

"I presume nothing."

"I don't want to speculate on anything."

"Well, then, why this hound should be loose to-night. I suppose that it does not always run loose upon the moor. Stapleton would not let it go unless he had reason to think that Sir Henry would be there."

"Ah, then why was this dog released tonight alone?" I don't think that dog was left on the moor forever to run around. Unless there is a reason to think that Sir Henry will go there, Stapleton will not let it out. ”

"My difficulty is the more formidable of the two, for I think that we shall very shortly get an explanation of yours, while mine may remain forever a mystery. The question now is, what shall we do with this poor wretch's body? We cannot leave it here to the foxes and the ravens."

"Of the two problems, my difficulty is the more troublesome one, and I think that your question will soon be answered, but my question may always be a mystery." The question at hand is: What do we do with the corpse of this poor villain? We can't put him here to feed the foxes and the crows!" ”

"I suggest that we put it in one of the huts until we can communicate with the police."

"I suggest putting him in a cabin before we get in touch with the police."

"Exactly. I have no doubt that you and I could carry it so far. Halloa, Watson, what's this? It's the man himself, by all that's wonderful and audacious! Not a word to show yow suspicions -- not a word, or my plans crumble to the ground."

"Yes, I believe you and I can lift him. Ah, Watson, what's going on? Facing him squarely, it is really bold and surprising! Don't say a word of doubt, don't say a word, or my whole plan will be finished. ”

A figure was approaching us over the moor, and I saw the dull red glow of a cigar. The moon shone upon him, and I could distinguish the dapper shape and jaunty walk of the naturalist. He stopped when he saw us, and then came on again.

On the moor, a man was walking toward us, and I saw a faint cigar firework. The moonlight shone on him, and I could see the biologist's short, lean figure and brisk steps. He stopped as soon as he saw us, and then walked forward again.

"Why, Dr. Watson, that's not you, is it? You are the last man that I should have expected to see out on the moor at this time of night. But, dear me, what's this? Somebody hurt? Not -- don't tell me that it is our friend Sir Henry!" He hurried past me and stooped over the dead man. I heard a sharp intake of his breath and the cigar fell from his fingers.

"Ah, Dr. Watson, it won't be you, will it?" I never imagined seeing you on the moor in the middle of the night like this. Oh my God, what's going on? Did anyone get hurt? No—don't tell me this is our friend Sir Henry! He hurried past us and bent down beside the dead man. I heard him take a sharp breath, and the cigar between his fingers fell.

"Who -- who's this?" he stammered.

"Who, who is this?" He stuttered.

"It is Selden, the man who escaped from Princetown."

"It was Seldan, the man who escaped from Prince town."

Stapleton turned a ghastly face upon us, but by a supreme effort he had overcome his amazement and his disappointment. He looked sharply from Holmes to me.

Stapleton turned to us, pale, but with great effort he restrained his panicked and disappointed expression. He stared dead at Holmes and me.

"Dear me! What a very shocking affair! How did he die?"

"Oh my God! What an amazing thing! How did he die? ”

"He appears to have broken his neck by falling over these rocks. My friend and I were strolling on the moor when we heard a cry."

"It looked as if he had broken his neck on these rocks. When we heard the shouts, my friend and I were walking in the moor. ”

"I heard a cry also. That was what brought me out. I was uneasy about Sir Henry."

"I also heard shouts, so I ran out, and I was worried about Sir Henry."

"Why about Sir Henry in particular?" I could not help asking.

"Why worry only for Sir Henry?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Because I had suggested that he should come over. When he did not come I was surprised, and I naturally became alarmed for his safety when I heard cries upon the moor. By the way" -- his eyes darted again from my face to Holmes's -- "did you hear anything else besides a cry?"

"I was taken aback because I had asked him to come, but he didn't come, so when I heard the shouts in the moor, of course I was panicked for his safety." His gaze turned again from my face to Holmes, "Apart from that shout, what other sounds did you hear?" ”

"No," said Holmes; "did you?"

"Nothing." Holmes said, "What about you? ”

"No."

"Nothing."

"What do you mean, then?"

"So what do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you know the stories that the peasants tell about a phantom hound, and so on. It is said to be heard at night upon the moor. I was wondering if there were any evidence of such a sound to-night."

"Ah, you always know the stories the peasants have told about the ghostly dog and other things like that, which are said to be audible in the moor at night. I was wondering if it was possible to hear such a sound tonight. ”

"We heard nothing of the kind," said I.

"We don't hear that kind of voice." I said.

"And what is your theory of this poor fellow's death?"

"But how do you think this poor fellow died?"

"I have no doubt that anxiety and exposure have driven him off his head. He has rushed about the moor in a crazy state and eventually fallen over here and broken his neck."

"I'm sure the anxiety and the long hours of living outside have driven him crazy. He must have been running wildly in the moor, and eventually he fell here and broke his neck. ”

"That seems the most reasonable theory," said Stapleton, and he gave a sigh which I took to indicate his relief. "What do you think about it, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"

"It seems like the most plausible statement," Stebton said, sighing as he also sighed. In my opinion, this is a sign that he has relaxed his mind, "What do you think, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" ”

My friend bowed his compliments.

My friend owes a debt of gratitude.

"You are quick at identification," said he.

"You recognize people so quickly." he said.

"We have been expecting you in these parts since Dr. Watson came down. You are in time to see a tragedy."

"Ever since Dr. Watson arrived, people here have known you'll be here too. You caught up with this tragedy. ”

"Yes, indeed. I have no doubt that my friend's explanation will cover the facts. I will take an unpleasant remembrance back to London with me to-morrow."

"Yes, it is true, and I am sure that my friend's explanation sums up the whole truth. I'm going back to London tomorrow with an unpleasant memory. ”

"Oh, you return to-morrow?"

"Oh, will you go back tomorrow?"

"That is my intention."

"That's how I intended it."

"I hope your visit has cast some light upon those occurrences which have puzzled us?"

"I hope that your visit will somewhat bring out some of these things that we are so puzzled about."

Holmes shrugged his shoulders.

Holmes shrugged.

"One cannot always have the success for which one hopes. An investigator needs facts and not legends or rumours. It has not been a satisfactory case."

"People don't always succeed according to their own subjective will. Those in charge of the investigation need facts rather than legends and rumors. The case was not satisfactorily handled. ”

My friend spoke in his frankest and most unconcerned manner. Stapleton still looked hard at him. Then he turned to me.

My friend spoke in his most frank and careless manner. Stapleton stared at him deadly, and then he turned to me again.

"I would suggest carrying this poor fellow to my house, but it would give my sister such a fright that I do not feel justified in doing it. I think that if we put something over his face he will be safe until morning."

"I would have suggested that this poor fellow be brought to my house, but he would have frightened my sister so much that I thought it would be better not to do so." I thought it would be safe to cover his head with something, and I'd think of a way to do it tomorrow morning. ”

And so it was arranged. Resisting Stapleton's offer of hospitality, Holmes and I set off to Baskerville Hall, leaving the naturalist to return alone. Looking back we saw the figure moving slowly away over the broad moor, and behind him that one black smudge on the silvered slope which showed where the man was lying who had come so horribly to his end.

That's how things are arranged. Holmes and I declined Stapleton's gestational invitation and went to the Baskerville Manor, leaving the biologist alone. We looked back and saw that the shadow was still slowly moving off into the distance on the vast moor; behind him there was a black dot on the hillside of the white flower, marking the place where the man who had come to such a terrible end lay.