Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Hound of the Baskervilles Chapter 13 FIXING THE NETS

"WE'RE at close grips at last," said Holmes as we walked together acrossthe moor. "What a nerve the fellow has! How he pulled himself togetherin the face of what must have been a paralyzing shock when he found thatthe wrong man had fallen a victim to his plot. I told you in London,Watson, and I tell you now again, that we have never had a foeman moreworthy of our steel.""I am sorry that he has seen you.""And so was I at first. But there was no getting out of it.""What effect do you think it will have upon his plans now that heknows you are here?""It may cause him to be more cautious, or it may drive him to desperatemeasures at once. Like most clever criminals, he may be too confident inhis own cleverness and imagine that he has completely deceived us.""Why should we not arrest him at once?""My dear Watson, you were born to be a man of action. Your instinct isalways to do something energetic. But supposing, for argument's sake,that we had him arrested to-night, what on earth the better off should webe for that? We could prove nothing against him. There's the devilishcunning of it! If he were acting through a human agent we could get someevidence, but if we were to drag this great dog to the light of day it wouldnot help us in putting a rope round the neck of its master.""Surely we have a case.""Not a shadow of one-only surmise and conjecture. We should belaughed out of court if we came with such a story and such evidence.""There is Sir Charles's death.""Found dead without a mark upon him. You and I know that he died ofsheer fright, and we know also what frightened him; but how are we toget twelve stolid jurymen to know it? What signs are there of a hound?Where are the marks of its fangs? Of course we know that a hound doesnot bite a dead body and that Sir Charles was dead before ever the bruteovertook him. But we have to prove all this, and we are not in a positionto do it.""Well, then, to-night?""We are not much better off to-night. Again, there was no directconnection between the hound and the man's death. We never saw thehound. We heard it, [748] but we could not prove that it was running uponthis man's trail. There is a complete absence of motive. No, my dearfellow; we must reconcile ourselves to the fact that we have no case atpresent, and that it is worth our while to run any risk in order to establish one.""And how do you propose to do so?""I have great hopes of what Mrs. Laura Lyons may do for us when theposition of affairs is made clear to her. And I have my own plan as well.Sufficient for to-morrow is the evil thereof; but I hope before the day ispast to have the upper hand at last."I could draw nothing further from him, and he walked, lost in thought,as far as the Baskerville gates."Are you coming up?""Yes; I see no reason for further concealment. But one last word,Watson. Say nothing of the hound to Sir Henry. Let him think thatSelden's death was as Stapleton would have us believe. He will have abetter nerve for the ordeal which he will have to undergo to-morrow,when he is engaged, if I remember your report aright, to dine with thesepeople.""And so am I.""Then you must excuse yourself and he must go alone. That will beeasily arranged. And now, if we are too late for dinner, I think that we areboth ready for our suppers."Sir Henry was more pleased than surprised to see Sherlock Holmes, forhe had for some days been expecting that recent events would bring himdown from London. He did raise his eyebrows, however, when he foundthat my friend had neither any luggage nor any explanations for itsabsence. Between us we soon supplied his wants, and then over a belatedsupper we explained to the baronet as much of our experience as itseemed desirable that he should know. But first I had the unpleasant dutyof breaking the news to Barrymore and his wife. To him it may have beenan unmitigated relief, but she wept bitterly in her apron. To all the worldhe was the man of violence, half animal and half demon; but to her healways remained the little wilful boy of her own girlhood, the child whohad clung to her hand. Evil indeed is the man who has not one woman tomourn him."I've been moping in the house all day since Watson went off in themorning," said the baronet. "I guess I should have some credit, for I havekept my promise. If I hadn't sworn not to go about alone I might have hada more lively evening, for I had a message from Stapleton asking me overthere.""I have no doubt that you would have had a more lively evening," saidHolmes drily. "By the way, I don't suppose you appreciate that we havebeen mourning over you as having broken your neck?"Sir Henry opened his eyes. "How was that?""This poor wretch was dressed in your clothes. I fear your servant whogave them to him may get into trouble with the police.""That is unlikely. There was no mark on any of them, as far as I know.""That's lucky for him-in fact, it's lucky for all of you, since you are allon the wrong side of the law in this matter. I am not sure that as aconscientious detective my first duty is not to arrest the whole household.Watson's reports are most incriminating documents.""But how about the case?" asked the baronet. "Have you made anything out of the tangle? I don't know that Watson and I are much thewiser since we came down."[749] "I think that I shall be in a position to make the situation rathermore clear to you before long. It has been an exceedingly difficult andmost complicated business. There are several points upon which we stillwant light -but it is coming all the same.""We've had one experience, as Watson has no doubt told you. Weheard the hound on the moor, so I can swear that it is not all emptysuperstition. I had something to do with dogs when I was out West, and Iknow one when I hear one. If you can muzzle that one and put him on achain I'll be ready to swear you are the greatest detective of all time.""I think I will muzzle him and chain him all right if you will give meyour help.""Whatever you tell me to do I will do.""Very good; and I will ask you also to do it blindly, without alwaysasking the reason.""Just as you like.""If you will do this I think the chances are that our little problem willsoon be solved. I have no doubt- -"He stopped suddenly and stared fixedly up over my head into the air.The lamp beat upon his face, and so intent was it and so still that it mighthave been that of a clear-cut classical statue, a personification of alertnessand expectation."What is it?" we both cried.I could see as he looked down that he was repressing some internalemotion. His features were still composed, but his eyes shone withamused exultation."Excuse the admiration of a connoisseur," said he as he waved his handtowards the line of portraits which covered the opposite wall. "Watsonwon't allow that I know anything of art, but that is mere jealousy becauseour views upon the subject differ. Now, these are a really very fine seriesof portraits.""Well, I'm glad to hear you say so," said Sir Henry, glancing withsome surprise at my friend. "I don't pretend to know much about thesethings, and I'd be a better judge of a horse or a steer than of a picture. Ididn't know that you found time for such things.""I know what is good when I see it, and I see it now. That's a Kneller,I'll swear, that lady in the blue silk over yonder, and the stout gentlemanwith the wig ought to be a Reynolds. They are all family portraits, Ipresume?""Every one.""Do you know the names?""Barrymore has been coaching me in them, and I think I can say mylessons fairly well.""Who is the gentleman with the telescope?""That is Rear-Admiral Baskerville, who served under Rodney in theWest Indies. The man with the blue coat and the roll of paper is SirWilliam Baskerville, who was Chairman of Committees of the House ofCommons under Pitt.""And this Cavalier opposite to me-the one with the black velvet andthe lace?""Ah, you have a right to know about him. That is the cause of all themischief, the wicked Hugo, who started the Hound of the Baskervilles.We're not likely to forget him."I gazed with interest and some surprise upon the portrait."Dear me!" said Holmes, "he seems a quiet, meek-mannered manenough, but I dare say that there was a lurking devil in his eyes. I hadpictured him as a more robust and ruffianly person."[750] "There's no doubt about the authenticity, for the name and thedate, 1647, are on the back of the canvas."Holmes said little more, but the picture of the old roysterer seemed tohave a fascination for him, and his eyes were continually fixed upon itduring supper. It was not until later, when Sir Henry had gone to hisroom, that I was able to follow the trend of his thoughts. He led me backinto the banqueting-hall, his bedroom candle in his hand, and he held it upagainst the time-stained portrait on the wall."Do you see anything there?"I looked at the broad plumed hat, the curling love-locks, the white lacecollar, and the straight, severe face which was framed between them. Itwas not a brutal countenance, but it was prim, hard, and stern, with a firmset, thin-lipped mouth, and a coldly intolerant eye. "Is it like anyone you know?""There is something of Sir Henry about the jaw.""Just a suggestion, perhaps. But wait an instant!" He stood upon achair, and, holding up the light in his left hand, he curved his right armover the broad hat and round the long ringlets."Good heavens!" I cried in amazement.The face of Stapleton had sprung out of the canvas."Ha, you see it now. My eyes have been trained to examine faces andnot their trimmings. It is the first quality of a criminal investigator that heshould see through a disguise.""But this is marvellous. It might be his portrait.""Yes, it is an interesting instance of a throwback, which appears to beboth physical and spiritual. A study of family portraits is enough toconvert a man to the doctrine of reincarnation. The fellow is aBaskerville-that is evident.""With designs upon the succession.""Exactly. This chance of the picture has supplied us with one of ourmost obvious missing links. We have him, Watson, we have him, and Idare swear that before to-morrow night he will be fluttering in our net ashelpless as one of his own butterflies. A pin, a cork, and a card, and weadd him to the Baker Street collection!" He burst into one of his rare fitsof laughter as he turned away from the picture. I have not heard him laughoften, and it has always boded ill to somebody. I was up betimes in the morning, but Holmes was afoot earlier still, forI saw him as I dressed, coming up the drive."Yes, we should have a full day to-day," he remarked, and he rubbedhis hands with the joy of action. "The nets are all in place, and the drag isabout to begin. We'll know before the day is out whether we have caughtour big, lean-jawed pike, or whether he has got through the meshes.""Have you been on the moor already?""I have sent a report from Grimpen to Princetown as to the death ofSelden. I think I can promise that none of you will be troubled in thematter. And I have also communicated with my faithful Cartwright, whowould certainly have pined away at the door of my hut, as a dog does athis master's grave, if I had not set his mind at rest about my safety.""What is the next move?""To see Sir Henry. Ah, here he is!"[751] "Good-morning, Holmes," said the baronet. "You look like ageneral who is planning a battle with his chief of the staff.""That is the exact situation. Watson was asking for orders.""And so do I.""Very good. You are engaged, as I understand, to dine with our friendsthe Stapletons to-night.""I hope that you will come also. They are very hospitable people, and Iam sure that they would be very glad to see you.""I fear that Watson and I must go to London.""To London?""Yes, I think that we should be more useful there at the presentjuncture."The baronet's face perceptibly lengthened."I hoped that you were going to see me through this business. The Halland the moor are not very pleasant places when one is alone.""My dear fellow, you must trust me implicitly and do exactly what Itell you. You can tell your friends that we should have been happy to havecome with you, but that urgent business required us to be in town. Wehope very soon to return to Devonshire. Will you remember to give themthat message?""If you insist upon it.""There is no alternative, I assure you."I saw by the baronet's clouded brow that he was deeply hurt by what heregarded as our desertion."When do you desire to go?" he asked coldly."Immediately after breakfast. We will drive in to Coombe Tracey, butWatson will leave his things as a pledge that he will come back to you.Watson, you will send a note to Stapleton to tell him that you regret thatyou cannot come.""I have a good mind to go to London with you," said the baronet. "Whyshould I stay here alone?""Because it is your post of duty. Because you gave me your word thatyou would do as you were told, and I tell you to stay.""All right, then, I'll stay.""One more direction! I wish you to drive to Merripit House. Send back your trap, however, and let them know that you intend to walk home.""To walk across the moor?""Yes.""But that is the very thing which you have so often cautioned me not todo.""This time you may do it with safety. If I had not every confidence inyour nerve and courage I would not suggest it, but it is essential that youshould do it.""Then I will do it.""And as you value your life do not go across the moor in any directionsave along the straight path which leads from Merripit House to theGrimpen Road, and is your natural way home.""I will do just what you say.""Very good. I should be glad to get away as soon after breakfast aspossible, so as to reach London in the afternoon."I was much astounded by this programme, though I remembered thatHolmes had said to Stapleton on the night before that his visit wouldterminate next day. It had not crossed my mind, however, that he wouldwish me to go with him, nor could I understand how we could both beabsent at a moment which he himself [752] declared to be critical. Therewas nothing for it, however, but implicit obedience; so we bade good-byeto our rueful friend, and a couple of hours afterwards we were at thestation of Coombe Tracey and had dispatched the trap upon its returnjourney. A small boy was waiting upon the platform."Any orders, sir?""You will take this train to town, Cartwright. The moment you arriveyou will send a wire to Sir Henry Baskerville, in my name, to say that ifhe finds the pocketbook which I have dropped he is to send it byregistered post to Baker Street.""Yes, sir.""And ask at the station office if there is a message for me."The boy returned with a telegram, which Holmes handed to me. It ran:Wire received. Coming down with unsigned warrant. Arrivefive-forty.LESTRADE."That is in answer to mine of this morning. He is the best of theprofessionals, I think, and we may need his assistance. Now, Watson, Ithink that we cannot employ our time better than by calling upon youracquaintance, Mrs. Laura Lyons."His plan of campaign was beginning to be evident. He would use thebaronet in order to convince the Stapletons that we were really gone,while we should actually return at the instant when we were likely to beneeded. That telegram from London, if mentioned by Sir Henry to theStapletons, must remove the last suspicions from their minds. Already Iseemed to see our nets drawing closer around that lean-jawed pike.Mrs. Laura Lyons was in her office, and Sherlock Holmes opened hisinterview with a frankness and directness which considerably amazed her. "I am investigating the circumstances which attended the death of thelate Sir Charles Baskerville," said he. "My friend here, Dr. Watson, hasinformed me of what you have communicated, and also of what you havewithheld in connection with that matter.""What have I withheld?" she asked defiantly."You have confessed that you asked Sir Charles to be at the gate at teno'clock. We know that that was the place and hour of his death. You havewithheld what the connection is between these events.""There is no connection.""In that case the coincidence must indeed be an extraordinary one. ButI think that we shall succeed in establishing a connection, after all. I wishto be perfectly frank with you, Mrs. Lyons. We regard this case as one ofmurder, and the evidence may implicate not only your friend Mr.Stapleton but his wife as well."The lady sprang from her chair."His wife!" she cried."The fact is no longer a secret. The person who has passed for his sisteris really his wife."Mrs. Lyons had resumed her seat. Her hands were grasping the arms ofher chair, and I saw that the pink nails had turned white with the pressureof her grip."His wife!" she said again. "His wife! He is not a married man."Sherlock Holmes shrugged his shoulders."Prove it to me! Prove it to me! And if you can do so- -!" The fierceflash of her eyes said more than any words."I have come prepared to do so," said Holmes, drawing several papersfrom his [753] pocket. "Here is a photograph of the couple taken in Yorkfour years ago. It is indorsed 'Mr. and Mrs. Vandeleur,' but you will have no difficulty in recognizing him, and her also, if you know her by sight.Here are three written descriptions by trustworthy witnesses of Mr. andMrs. Vandeleur, who at that time kept St. Oliver's private school. Readthem and see if you can doubt the identity of these people."She glanced at them, and then looked up at us with the set, rigid face ofa desperate woman."Mr. Holmes," she said, "this man had offered me marriage oncondition that I could get a divorce from my husband. He has lied to me,the villain, in every conceivable way. Not one word of truth has he evertold me. And why-why? I imagined that all was for my own sake. Butnow I see that I was never anything but a tool in his hands. Why should Ipreserve faith with him who never kept any with me? Why should I try toshield him from the consequences of his own wicked acts? Ask me whatyou like, and there is nothing which I shall hold back. One thing I swearto you, and that is that when I wrote the letter I never dreamed of anyharm to the old gentleman, who had been my kindest friend.""I entirely believe you, madam," said Sherlock Holmes. "The recital ofthese events must be very painful to you, and perhaps it will make iteasier if I tell you what occurred, and you can check me if I make anymaterial mistake. The sending of this letter was suggested to you byStapleton?""He dictated it.""I presume that the reason he gave was that you would receive helpfrom Sir Charles for the legal expenses connected with your divorce?""Exactly.""And then after you had sent the letter he dissuaded you from keepingthe appointment?""He told me that it would hurt his self-respect that any other manshould find the money for such an object, and that though he was a poorman himself he would devote his last penny to removing the obstacleswhich divided us.""He appears to be a very consistent character. And then you heardnothing until you read the reports of the death in the paper?""No.""And he made you swear to say nothing about your appointment withSir Charles?""He did. He said that the death was a very mysterious one, and that Ishould certainly be suspected if the facts came out. He frightened me intoremaining silent.""Quite so. But you had your suspicions?"She hesitated and looked down."I knew him," she said. "But if he had kept faith with me I shouldalways have done so with him.""I think that on the whole you have had a fortunate escape," saidSherlock Holmes. "You have had him in your power and he knew it, andyet you are alive. You have been walking for some months very near tothe edge of a precipice. We must wish you good-morning now, Mrs.Lyons, and it is probable that you will very shortly hear from us again.""Our case becomes rounded off, and difficulty after difficulty thins away in front of us," said Holmes as we stood waiting for the arrival ofthe express from town. "I shall soon be in the position of being able to putinto a single connected narrative one of the most singular and sensationalcrimes of modern times. Students of [754] criminology will remember theanalogous incidents in Godno, in Little Russia, in the year '66, and ofcourse there are the Anderson murders in North Carolina, but this casepossesses some features which are entirely its own. Even now we have noclear case against this very wily man. But I shall be very much surprisedif it is not clear enough before we go to bed this night."The London express came roaring into the station, and a small, wirybulldog of a man had sprung from a first-class carriage. We all threeshook hands, and I saw at once from the reverential way in whichLestrade gazed at my companion that he had learned a good deal since thedays when they had first worked together. I could well remember thescorn which the theories of the reasoner used then to excite in thepractical man."Anything good?" he asked."The biggest thing for years," said Holmes. "We have two hours beforewe need think of starting. I think we might employ it in getting somedinner, and then, Lestrade, we will take the London fog out of your throatby giving you a breath of the pure night air of Dartmoor. Never beenthere? Ah, well, I don't suppose you will forget your first visit."