Was that his work or was it possibly the doing of someone whowas bent upon counteracting his schemes? The only conceivablemotive was that which had been suggested by Sir Henry, that ifthe family could be scared away a comfortable and permanenthome would be secured for the Barrymores. But surely such anexplanation as that would be quite inadequate to account forthe deep and subtle scheming which seemed to be weaving aninvisible net round the young baronet. Holmes himself had saidthat no more complex case had come to him in all the long seriesof his sensational investigations. I prayed, as I walked back alongthe gray, lonely road, that my friend might soon be freed from hispreoccupations and able to come down to take this heavy burdenof responsibility from my shoulders.
Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of runningfeet behind me and by a voice which called me by name. I turned,expecting to see Dr. Mortimer, but to my surprise it was a strangerwho was pursuing me. He was a small, slim, clean-shaven, prim-faced man, flaxen-haired and lean-jawed, between thirty and fortyyears of age, dressed in a gray suit and wearing a straw hat. A tinbox for botanical specimens hung over his shoulder and he carrieda green butterfly-net in one of his hands.
“You will, I am sure, excuse my presumption, Dr. Watson,” saidhe, as he came panting up to where I stood. “Here on the moor weare homely folk and do not wait for formal introductions. You maypossibly have heard my name from our mutual friend, Mortimer. Iam Stapleton, of Merripit House.”
“Your net and box would have told me as much,” said I, “for Iknew that Mr. Stapleton was a naturalist. But how did you knowme?”
“I have been calling on Mortimer, and he pointed you out tome from the window of his surgery as you passed. As our road laythe same way I thought that I would overtake you and introducemyself. I trust that Sir Henry is none the worse for his journey?”
“He is very well, thank you.”
“We were all rather afraid that after the sad death of Sir Charlesthe new baronet might refuse to live here. It is asking much ofa wealthy man to come down and bury himself in a place of thiskind, but I need not tell you that it means a very great deal to thecountryside. Sir Henry has, I suppose, no superstitious fears in thematter?”
“I do not think that it is likely.”
“Of course you know the legend of the fiend dog which hauntsthe family?”
“I have heard it.”
“It is extraordinary how credulous the peasants are about here!
Any number of them are ready to swear that they have seen such acreature upon the moor.” He spoke with a smile, but I seemed toread in his eyes that he took the matter more seriously. “The storytook a great hold upon the imagination of Sir Charles, and I haveno doubt that it led to his tragic end.”
“But how?”
“His nerves were so worked up that the appearance of any dogmight have had a fatal effect upon his diseased heart. I fancy thathe really did see something of the kind upon that last night in theYew Alley. I feared that some disaster might occur, for I was veryfond of the old man, and I knew that his heart was weak.”
“How did you know that?”
“My friend Mortimer told me.”
“You think, then, that some dog pursued Sir Charles, and thathe died of fright in consequence?”
“Have you any better explanation?”
“I have not come to any conclusion.”
“Has Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”
The words took away my breath for an instant, but a glance atthe placid face and steadfast eyes of my companion showed thatno surprise was intended.
“It is useless for us to pretend that we do not know you, Dr.
Watson,” said he. “The records of your detective have reachedus here, and you could not celebrate him without being knownyourself. When Mortimer told me your name he could not denyyour identity. If you are here, then it follows that Mr. SherlockHolmes is interesting himself in the matter, and I am naturallycurious to know what view he may take.”
“I am afraid that I cannot answer that question.”
“May I ask if he is going to honour us with a visit himself?”
“He cannot leave town at present. He has other cases whichengage his attention.”
“What a pity! He might throw some light on that which is so darkto us. But as to your own researches, if there is any possible way inwhich I can be of service to you I trust that you will command me.
If I had any indication of the nature of your suspicions or how youpropose to investigate the case, I might perhaps even now giveyou some aid or advice.”
“I assure you that I am simply here upon a visit to my friend, SirHenry, and that I need no help of any kind.”
“Excellent!” said Stapleton. “You are perfectly right to bewary and discreet. I am justly reproved for what I feel was anunjustifiable intrusion, and I promise you that I will not mentionthe matter again.”
We had come to a point where a narrow grassy path struck offfrom the road and wound away across the moor. A steep, bouldersprinkledhill lay upon the right which had in bygone days beencut into a granite quarry. The face which was turned towards usformed a dark cliff, with ferns and brambles growing in its niches.
From over a distant rise there floated a gray plume of smoke.
“A moderate walk along this moor-path brings us to MerripitHouse,” said he. “Perhaps you will spare an hour that I may havethe pleasure of introducing you to my sister.”
My first thought was that I should be by Sir Henry’s side. Butthen I remembered the pile of papers and bills with which hisstudy table was littered. It was certain that I could not help withthose. And Holmes had expressly said that I should study theneighbours upon the moor. I accepted Stapleton’s invitation, andwe turned together down the path.
“It is a wonderful place, the moor,” said he, looking round overthe undulating downs, long green rollers, with crests of jaggedgranite foaming up into fantastic surges. “You never tire of themoor. You cannot think the wonderful secrets which it contains.
It is so vast, and so barren, and so mysterious.”
“You know it well, then?”