巴斯克维尔猎犬(英文版)-第5章

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I　remembered　the　case　well．It　had　been　a　very　cruel　murder．I　thought　of　this　killer　out　on　the　empty，wild　moor，and　I　felt　more　and　more　unfortable　about　my　surroundings．The　beautiful　green　fields　with　their　thick　hedges　were　behind　us，and　we　were　now　on　the　cold，open　moor．Everything　was　grey，hard　and　wild　Huge　rough　stones　stood　on　the　hard　ground．The　tops　of　the　hills　stood　sharply　like　cruel　teeth　against　the　sky．A　cold　wind　was　blowing，and　night　was　falling．I　saw　Sir　Henry　pull　his　coat　closer　round　him．

At　last　we　reached　the　gates　of　Baskerville　Hall．From　the　gates　a　long，dark　road　led　up　to　the　house，with　the　black　shapes　of　old　trees　on　each　side　of　it．At　the　end　of　this　road　we　could　see　the　great　house　standing　with　a　pale　light　round　it　like　a　ghost．

‘I　can　understand　why　my　uncle　felt　that　trouble　was　－　ing　to　him　here．It's　not　a　weling　place，’said　Sir　Henry，and　his　voice　shook　as　he　spoke．

As　we　got　closer，we　could　see　that　the　Hall　was　a　heavy，dark　building　with　a　large　main　entrance．Most　of　the　building　was　old　and　was　covered　in　dark　green　ivy，but　some　of　it　had　been　built　more　recently　and　was　of　grim，black　stone．A　dull　light　shone　through　the　heavy　windows．Black　smoke　was　－　ing　from　one　of　the　high　chimneys　of　the　main　building．

‘Wele，Sir　Henry！Wele　to　Baskerville　Hall．’

Barrymore，the　butler，and　his　wife　were　waiting　on　the　steps　at　the　main　entrance　They　came　down　and　took　our　suit－　cases　into　the　house　Dr　Mortimer　left　us　to　go　home，and　we　went　into　the　hall，where　a　fire　was　burning．It　was　a　fine　room，large　and　high．

‘It's　exactly　as　I　imagined　an　old　family　home，’Sir　Henry　said．

Barrymore　showed　us　to　our　rooms　He　was　a　tall，handsome　man，with　a　full　black　beard．After　we　had　washed　and　changed　our　clothes，he　brought　us　to　dinner．The　diningroom　was　not　very　weling．It　needed　more　lights　to　make　it　brighter．On　the　walls　were　the　pictures　of　the　Baskervilles　of　the　past．They　looked　down　on　us　silently，and　did　nothing　to　make　us　feel　happier．

After　dinner　we　went　to　our　rooms．Before　I　got　into　bed，I　looked　out　of　my　window　A　strong　wind　sang　sadly　as　it　bent　the　trees　in　front　of　the　Hall．A　half　moon　shone　through　the　dark，flying　clouds　onto　the　wild　and　empty　moor．

I　could　not　sleep．Then，suddenly，in　the　middle　of　the　night　I　heard　very　clearly　the　sound　of　a　woman　crying．It　was　the　crying　of　a　person　who　was　hurt　by　some　deep　sadness．The　sound　was　not　far　away，and　was　certainly　in　the　house．

　　



　
8　　The　Stapletons　of　Pen　House　

　　

The　next　morning　was　sunny，and　we　were　much　more　cheerful．

I　told　Sir　Henry　about　the　crying　I　had　heard．He　rang　the　bell　to　call　Barrymore，and　asked　him　if　he　could　explain　the　crying．Barrymore's　face　went　white　when　he　heard　Sir　Henry's　question．

‘There　are　only　two　women　in　the　house，Sir　Henry，’he　an　swered．‘One　is　the　maid，who　sleeps　on　the　other　side　of　the　house．The　other　is　my　wife，and　she　was　certainly　not　crying．’

But　he　was　telling　a　lie．I　saw　Mrs　Barrymore　after　breakfast．The　sun　was　full　on　her　face，and　it　was　clear　she　had　been　crying．

Why　had　Barrymore　lied？What　deep　sadness　had　made　his　wife　cry？There　was　a　mystery　surrounding　this　black　bearded，handsome　man．Was　it　possible　that　Barrymore　was　in　fact　the　man　who　had　been　watching　Sir　Henry　in　London？I　decided　I　must　check　with　the　local　post　office　that　the　tele－　gram　had　really　been　put　into　Barrymore's　own　hands．

While　Sir　Henry　worked　at　some　papers，I　walked　to　the　post　office．It　was　in　the　nearest　village，which　was　called　Grimpen．I　spoke　to　the　boy　who　had　taken　the　telegram　to　the　Hall．

‘Did　you　give　it　to　Mr　Barrymore　himself？’I　asked．

‘Well，’the　boy　said，‘he　was　working　upon　the　roof，so　I　couldn't　give　it　to　him．I　gave　it　to　Mrs　Barrymore，and　she　promised　to　give　it　to　him　at　once．’

‘Did　you　see　Mr　Barrymore？’I　asked　him．

‘No，’said　the　boy，‘but　why　did　his　wife　say　he　was　upon　the　roof　if　he　wasn't？’

It　was　hopeless　to　ask　any　more　questions．It　was　clear　that　Holmes'　cleverness　with　the　telegram　had　not　given　us　the　proof　we　needed．

I　was　walking　away　from　the　post　office　when　I　heard　some　one　running　after　me．A　voice　called　me　by　name，and　I　turned．I　expected　to　see　Dr　Mortimer，as　I　knew　nobody　else　in　the　village．To　my　surprise　it　was　a　stranger．He　was　a　small，thin　man，between　thirty　and　forty　years　old，with　fair　hair　and　no　beard．He　was　carrying　a　butterfly　，and　a　box　for　putting　butterflies　in．

‘I　hope　you　will　excuse　me　for　introducing　myself，Dr　Wat－　son，’he　said　as　he　came　up　to　me．‘My　name　is　Stapleton．I　was　in　Dr　Mortimer's　house　and　we　saw　you．He　told　me　who　you　are．May　I　walk　along　with　you？　This　path　back　to　the　Hall　goes　near　my　home，Pen　House．Please　e　in　and　meet　my　sister，and　spend　an　hour　with　us．’

I　accepted　Stapleton's　invitation，and　we　walked　together．

‘I　know　that　you　are　a　close　friend　of　Sherlock　Holmes，’said　Stapleton．‘Has　Mr　Holmes　any　ideas　about　Sir　Charles　death？’

‘I'm　afraid　I　can't　answer　that　question，’I　said．

‘Will　Mr　Holmes　visit　us　himself？’he　asked．

‘He　can't　leave　London　at　the　moment，’I　answered．I　was　rather　surprised　that　he　was　asking　me　these　questions　

We　walked　on．Stapleton　told　me　that　he　and　his　sister　had　lived　in　Devonshire　for　only　two　years．They　had　moved　there　soon　after　Sir　Charles　had　begun　to　live　in　Baskerville　Hall．He　also　talked　about　the　moor　and　how　it　interested　him．He　told　me　to　look　across　the　moor　to　a　place　which　was　a　bright　green　colour．

‘That　is　the　Great　Grimpen　Marsh，’he　said　‘If　animals　or　men　go　into　the　marsh，they　will　sink　into　it　and　die．But　I　can　find　my　way　to　the　very　centre　of　it．Look，there　is　another　of　those　poor　horses．’

Something　brown　was　fighting　to　get　out　of　the　bright　green　of　the　marsh．Then　a　terrible　cry　came　across　the　moor．The　horse's　head　and　neck　disappeared　under　the　green．

‘It's　gone，’Stapleton　said．‘The　marsh　has　caught　and　killed　it．That　often　happens．It　is　an　evil　place，the　Great　Grimpen　Marsh．’

‘But　you　say　you　can　go　safely　in　and　out　of　it？’I　asked　him．

‘Yes，there　are　a　few　paths，and　I　have　found　them．The　low　hills　you　can　see　are　like　islands　surrounded　by　the　marsh．That　is　where　I　can　find　the　unusual　plants　and　butterflies．And　that's　why　I　found　my　way　through　the　marsh．’

‘I　shall　try　my　luck　one　day，’I　said．

He　looked　at　me　in　surprise．‘Please　don't　try，’he　said．‘You　would　never　return　alive，and　it　would　be　my　fault．’

‘Listen，’I　said．‘What　is　that？’

A　long，low　cry，very　deep　and　very　sad，came　over　the　moor．It　filled　the　whole　air．Then　it　died　away．

‘What　is　it？’I　asked，with　a　cold　fear　in　my　heart．

Stapleton　had　a　strange　look　on　his　face．‘The　people　say　it's　the　Hound　of　the　Baskervilles，which　is　calling　for　some－　thing　to　hunt　and　kill．I've　heard　it　once　or　twice　before，but　never　so　loud．’

‘You　are　a　man　of　science，’I　said．‘You　don't　believe　that，do　you？Isn't　there　a　natural　explanation　for　the　sound？’

‘A　marsh　makes　strange　noises　sometimes．It　is　the　water　and　the　wet　ground　moving．’

‘But　that　was　the　voice　of　a　living　creature，’I　said．

‘Well，perhaps　it　was．There　are　some　very　unusual　birds　on　the　moors．It　was　most　probably　the　cry　of　one　of　those．’

At　that　moment　a　small　butterfly　flew　across　the　path　in　front　of　us．‘Excuse　me，Dr　Watson，’shouted　Stapleton，and　ran　off　to　try　to　catch　the　butterfly．He　ran　quickly　and　fol－　lowed　the　butterfly　on　to　the　marsh，but　he　knew　exactly　where　he　could　go，and　was　not　in　any　danger．

As　I　watched　him，I　heard　the　sound　of　steps　behind　me．I　turned　and　saw　a　woman　near　me　on　the　path．I　was　sure　she　was　Miss　Stapleton．She　was　very　beautiful．She　was　dark　and　tall，with　a　lovely　face．Before　I　could　say　anything，she　said：

‘Go　back！Go　straight　back　to　London，immediately．I　can－　not　tell　you　why，but　please　do　what　I　ask　you，and　never　e　near　the　moor　again．But　my　brother　is　ing．Not　a　word　to　him．’

Stapleton　had　caught　the　butterfly，