“Within the last few months it became increasingly plain tome that Sir Charles’s nervous system was strained to the breakingpoint. He had taken this legend which I have read you exceedinglyto heart—so much so that, although he would walk in his owngrounds, nothing would induce him to go out upon the moor atnight. Incredible as it may appear to you, Mr. Holmes, he washonestly convinced that a dreadful fate overhung his family, andcertainly the records which he was able to give of his ancestorswere not encouraging. The idea of some ghastly presenceconstantly haunted him, and on more than one occasion he hasasked me whether I had on my medical journeys at night ever seenany strange creature or heard the baying of a hound. The latterquestion he put to me several times, and always with a voice whichvibrated with excitement.
I can well remember driving up to his house in the eveningsome three weeks before the fatal event. He chanced to be at hishall door. I had descended from my gig and was standing in frontof him, when I saw his eyes fix themselves over my shoulder, andstare past me with an expression of the most dreadful horror. Iwhisked round and had just time to catch a glimpse of somethingwhich I took to be a large black calf passing at the head of thedrive. So excited and alarmed was he that I was compelled to godown to the spot where the animal had been and look around forit. It was gone, however, and the incident appeared to make theworst impression upon his mind. I stayed with him all the evening,and it was on that occasion, to explain the emotion which he hadshown, that he confided to my keeping that narrative which I readto you when first I came. I mention this small episode because itassumes some importance in view of the tragedy which followed,but I was convinced at the time that the matter was entirely trivialand that his excitement had no justification.
It was at my advice that Sir Charles was about to go to London.
His heart was, I knew, affected, and the constant anxiety inwhich he lived, however chimerical the cause of it might be, wasevidently having a serious effect upon his health. I thought thata few months among the distractions of town would send himback a new man. Mr. Stapleton, a mutual friend who was muchconcerned at his state of health, was of the same opinion. At thelast instant came this terrible catastrophe.
“On the night of Sir Charles’s death Barrymore the butler,who made the discovery, sent Perkins the groom on horsebackto me, and as I was sitting up late I was able to reach BaskervilleHall within an hour of the event. I checked and corroborated allthe facts which were mentioned at the inquest. I followed thefootsteps down the yew alley, I saw the spot at the moor-gatewhere he seemed to have waited, I remarked the change in theshape of the prints after that point, I noted that there were noother footsteps save those of Barrymore on the soft gravel, andfinally I carefully examined the body, which had not been toucheduntil my arrival. Sir Charles lay on his face, his arms out, his fingersdug into the ground, and his features convulsed with some strongemotion to such an extent that I could hardly have sworn to hisidentity. There was certainly no physical injury of any kind. Butone false statement was made by Barrymore at the inquest. Hesaid that there were no traces upon the ground round the body. Hedid not observe any. But I did—some little distance off, but freshand clear.”
“Footprints?”
“Footprints.”
“A man’s or a woman’s?”
Dr. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an instant, and his voicesank almost to a whisper as he answered:—
“Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!”
The Problem
I confess that at these words a shudder passed through me.
There was a thrill in the doctor’s voice which showed that he washimself deeply moved by that which he told us. Holmes leanedforward in his excitement and his eyes had the hard, dry glitterwhich shot from them when he was keenly interested.
“You saw this?”
“As clearly as I see you.”
“And you said nothing?”
“What was the use?”
“How was it that no one else saw it?”
“The marks were some twenty yards from the body and no onegave them a thought. I don’t suppose I should have done so had Inot known this legend.”
“There are many sheep-dogs on the moor?”
“No doubt, but this was no sheep-dog.”
“You say it was large?”
“Enormous.”
“But it had not approached the body?”
“No.”
“What sort of night was it?’
“Damp and raw.”
“But not actually raining?”
“No.”
“What is the Alley like?”
“There are two lines of old yew hedge, twelve feet high andimpenetrable. The walk in the centre is about eight feet across.”
“Is there anything between the hedges and the walk?”
“Yes, there is a strip of grass about six feet broad on either side.”
“I understand that the yew hedge is penetrated at one point bya gate?”
“Yes, the wicket-gate which leads on to the moor.”
“Is there any other opening?”
“None.”
“So that to reach the yew alley one either has to come down itfrom the house or else to enter it by the moor-gate?”
“There is an exit through a summer-house at the far end.”
“Had Sir Charles reached this?”
“No; he lay about fifty yards from it.”
“Now, tell me, Dr. Mortimer—and this is important—the markswhich you saw were on the path and not on the grass?”
“No marks could show on the grass.”
“Were they on the same side of the path as the moor-gate?”
“Yes; they were on the edge of the path on the same side as themoor-gate.”
“You interest me exceedingly. Another point. Was the wicketgateclosed?”
“Closed and padlocked.”
“How high was it?”
“About four feet high.”
“Then anyone could have got over it?”
“Yes.”
“And what marks did you see by the wicket-gate?”
“None in particular.”
“Good heaven! Did no one examine?”
“Yes, I examined myself.”
“And found nothing?”
“It was all very confused. Sir Charles had evidently stood therefor five or ten minutes.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because the ash had twice dropped from his cigar.”
“Excellent! This is a colleague, Watson, after our own heart. Butthe marks?”