Sherlock Holmes Complete Works 2

Chapter 68 The Hound of the Baskervilles 7
The beauty of the next morning more or less diminished the horror and gloomy impression we had when we first saw the manor.

"I think we can only blame ourselves, not the manor!" said the baronet. "Because we were tired from the journey and the car was cold, we didn't have a good impression of this place, but now we have a new look in mind and body. So it was fun again.”

"But it's not just a matter of imagination," I replied. "For example, did you hear someone—a woman, I think—crying at night?"

"I did hear someone crying in my half-dream. But then I couldn't hear anything."

"I'm sure it was a woman crying."

"We've got to get this straight." He rang for Barrymore and asked if he could tell us what it was all about.After the manager heard the master's question, his originally pale face became even paler.

"My lord, there are only two women in this house," he answered. "One is the maid, who sleeps in the wing opposite; the other is my wife. But I assure you, she did not cry."

But later, it was proved that he was lying.For I met Mrs. Barrymore on the porch after breakfast, and she looked at me with red, swollen eyes.Judging from this phenomenon, she must have been the one crying last night.If she did cry, then his husband must know why, but why did he hide the truth? Also, why did she cry so hard? And he was the first to find the old knight's body. The situation is also known from his mouth.Could it be? Could it be that he was the one we saw in the carriage in Regent Street? At least the beard is similar.How can I ascertain this? Obviously, the first thing to do should be to go to the postmaster in Greenpen and find out whether the tentative telegram was actually delivered to Barrymore in person.Whatever the answer, I should at least have something to report to Sherlock Holmes.

Sir Henry had a great deal of papers to look at after breakfast, and it was just time for me to go out.The postmaster and village grocer remembered the telegram well.

"Yes, sir," said he, "I have ordered that telegram to be sent to Mr. Barrymore, as directed."

"Who will deliver it?"

"My son did. James, did you send the telegram to Mr. Barrymore last week?"

"Yes, Dad, I gave it to you."

"Did he receive it himself?"

"He was still upstairs at the time, so I couldn't deliver it to him myself. But I gave it to Mrs. Barrymore, and she promised to send it right away."

"Did you see Mr. Barrymore?"

"No."

"How can you be sure he's upstairs if you haven't seen him?"

"At least her wife must know where he is?" said the postmaster somewhat angrily. "Did Mr. Barrymore get that telegram? If something went wrong, he must have come by himself."

Continuing the investigation seemed hopeless.It is clear, however, that we have not been able to prove whether Barrymore has been to London.What if he was the last to see Sir Childs alive, and the one who followed the new Baron? Did he have a plot of his own, or was he at the beck and call of others? What did the murderers of the Baskervilles do to him? What's the good? I'm reminded of the warning letter cut and paste from The Times review.Did he do it? The only reason that could come up was, as Sir Henry said, that if the masters were scared away, they would have a comfortable home.

Suddenly, a sound of footsteps and a voice calling my name interrupted my train of thought.I turned around and saw a stranger.He was thin, clean-shaven, and well-proportioned.Wearing gray clothes and a straw hat, a herbarium is hung on the shoulder, and a green butterfly net is held in one hand.

"I trust you will forgive my indiscretion, Dr. Watson," said he; "I think you have heard my name from your friend, Dr. Mortimer, and I live in Melissa. Staple Valley."

"Your box and net have told me so clearly," said I, "that I have long known that Mr. Staple Valley is a biologist. But how did you know me?"

"You happened to pass by the window when I called on Dr. Mortimer, and he introduced you to me. As we were on the same road, I caught up with you to introduce myself. I believe Sir Henry traveled all the way back. Favorable wind?"

"Thanks, he's fine."

"After the sudden death of Sir Childs, we were all worried that Sir Henry would not want to live there. Sir Henry had no fear of it, did he?"

"I don't think so."

"You must have heard the legend about the family and the hound?"

"Yes."

"The peasants here are so easy to believe in rumors! Every one of them said that they had seen such a spirit in this moor. It had a great impact on Sir Childs' mind. I am sure it is because That’s why he ended up like this.”

"how could be?"

"His nerves were strained to such an extent that the sight of a dog would have had a fatal effect on his fragile heart. I think he actually saw something in the yew lane the night he died. I knew his heart was very weak. Fragile."

"How do you know?"

"Dr. Mortimer told me."

"Then you think there was a dog that went after Sir Childs, and frightened him to death?"

"Do you have a better explanation than that?"

"I haven't come to any conclusion yet."

"And Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"

This sentence made me hold my breath for a moment, but when I looked at his calm face and calm eyes again, I realized that he didn't mean to surprise me.

"We have already seen the account of your detective case, and you are known as much as you praise your friend. When Mortimer told me of you, he was obliged to mention your name. Now that you are here, Mr. Holmes has taken an interest in the case. I should like to know his opinion."

"I'm afraid I can't answer that question either."

"Is he coming in person?"

"He still has to work in London, where other cases are waiting for him."

"What a pity! He may be able to clear up this puzzling case. If you need me when you investigate, just order it."

"I'm just visiting my friend Sir Henry, and I don't need help."

"Well!" said Staple Valley, "you are quite right to be cautious."

We took a narrow grassy path that meandered across the moor.

"It's a short walk along this moor path to Melissa," said he. "Perhaps you can spare an hour, and I should be glad to introduce you to my sister."

Holmes had told me that the neighbors around the estate should be investigated, so I agreed to Staple Valley's invitation and walked down the path together.

"What a strange place this moor is!" said he. "You will never tire of it. There are wonderful things in the moor beyond your imagination."

"Then you must know the moor like the back of your hand?"

"I've only lived here two years, and the locals still call me a newcomer. My interest has driven me to see every part of the country, so few people are as familiar with the moor as I am."

"Is it hard to figure it out?"

"It's difficult. For example, there are several hills in the middle of this large plain in the north. Can you see anything unique about it?"

"It's one of those rare good places to keep horses."

"Of course you would think so, but it has cost so many lives so far. Do you see that green meadow?"

"Yes, it seems that that place is more fertile than other places."

Staple Valley laughed.

"That's the Great Greenpen Swamp," he said, "where a careless step, man or beast, kills you. But I can find my way to the middle of the swamp and come out alive. God, again There's an unlucky pony stuck in it."

At this time, I saw a brown thing rolling back and forth in the sedge, struggling to stretch its neck upwards, and then let out a painful cry.I was cold, but Mr. Staple Valley seemed stronger than I was.

"It's over!" he said. "The mire has swallowed it up. Two in two days, and how many more may sink in. They're used to running around there in the dry days." Go, only when they get stuck in the mud will they understand how different the dry and wet seasons are."

"Didn't you say you could wear it?"

"Yes, there is a small road here, which can only be passed by people with quick skills. I have found this road."

"But why do you go to this dreadful place?"

"Ah, look at that hill over there. It's a paradise for rare plants and butterflies. To get there, you have to go through this swamp."

"I'll try my luck someday."

"You mustn't think so," he said, "that would be like killing you."

(End of this chapter)