The Hound of the Baskervilles Part 13 (1/2)
Chapter 7 The Stapletons of Merripit House
The fresh beauty of the following ray impression which had been left upon both of us by our first experience of Baskerville Hall As Sir Henry and I sat at breakfast the sunlight flooded in through the highwatery patches of colour frolowed like bronze in the golden rays, and it was hard to realize that this was indeed the chaloouess it is ourselves and not the house that we have to blame!” said the baronet ”We were tired with our journey and chilled by our drive, so we took a gray view of the place Noe are fresh and well, so it is all cheerful once ination,” I answered
”Did you, for exa in the night?”
”That is curious, for I did when I was half asleep fancy that I heard so 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 really the sob of a wo the bell and asked Barrymore whether he could account for our experience It seemed to me that the pallid features of the butler turned a shade paler still as he listened to his master's question
”There are only tomen in the house, Sir Henry,” he answered ”One is the scullery- 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 chanced that after breakfast Icorridor with the sun full upon her face She was a large, impassive, heavy-featured woman with a stern set expression of lanced at me froht, 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 had he done this? And why did she weep so bitterly? Already round this pale-faced, handso an atloom 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 Barryent Street? The beard ht well have been the same The cabman had described a soht easily have been erroneous How could I settle the point forever? Obviously the first thing to do was to see the Griram had really been placed in Barryht, I should at least have so to report to Sherlock Holmes
Sir Henry had numerous papers to examine after breakfast, so that the time was propitious forthe edge of the ray has, which proved to be the inn and the house of Dr Mortih above the rest The postrocer, had a clear recollection of the telegraram delivered to Mr
Barrymore exactly as directed”
”Who delivered it?”
”My boy here Jaram to Mr Barrymore 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 tiave it into Mrs Barrymore's hands, and she promised to deliver it at once”
”Did you see Mr Barrymore?”
”No, sir; I tell you he was in the loft”
”If you didn't see him, how do you knoas in the loft?”
”Well, surely his oife ought to knohere he is,” said the postram? If there is any mistake it is for Mr Barrymore himself to complain”
It seemed hopeless to pursue the inquiry any farther, but it was clear that in spite of Holmes's ruse we had no proof that Barrymore had not been in London all the time Suppose that it were so--suppose that the same man had been the last 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 or had he son of his own? What interest could he have in persecuting the Baskerville fa clipped out of the leading article of the Ti of so his scheested by Sir Henry, that if the family could be scared away a comfortable and permanent home would be secured for the Barrymores
But surely such an explanation as that would be quite inadequate to account for the deep and subtle sche an invisible net round the young baronet Holmes himself had said that noseries of his sensational investigations I prayed, as I walked back along the gray, lonely road, that ht soon be freed from his preoccupations and able to come down to take this heavy burden of responsibility frohts were interrupted by the sound of running feet behindto see Dr Morti me He was a small, slim, clean-shaven, prim-faced man, flaxen-haired and leanjawed, between thirty and forty years of age, dressed in a gray suit and wearing a straw hat A tin box for botanical specireen butterfly-net in one of his hands
”You will, I am sure, excuseup to where I stood ”Here on the moor 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 Merripit House”
”Your net and box would have told me as much,” said I, ”for I knew that Mr Stapleton was a naturalist But how did you knowon Mortiery as you passed As our road lay the saht that I would overtake you and introduce myself I trust that Sir Henry is none the worse for his journey?”