The Hound of the Baskervilles: Part Five

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Shopify gives us the ability to customize without the complexity. We can change something without introducing fragility or having to pay a developer. We're thirsty total and we leveled up our business with Shopify. Start your free trial at Shopify.com/AU. I'm Hugh Bonneville and welcome to the Hound of the Basketville's Part 5.

Last time, Watson wrote to Holmes in London with a full report on the goings on at Basketville Hall.

Including, Sehennries romantic interest in their beautiful neighbour, Miss Stapleton,

despite her brother's apparent disapproval. The continuing search for the escaped prisoner now at large for the best part of a month, and the sinister nocturnal movements of the Butler Barrymore. Now the good doctor continues his investigation on Holmes' behalf, armed with his trustee revolver. From the Noiser Podcast Network, this is the Hound of the Basketville's Part 5.

[Music] Basketville Hall October the 15th.

My dear Holmes, if I was compelled to leave you without much news during the early days of my mission,

“you must acknowledge that I am making up for lost time and that events are now crowding thick and fast upon us.”

In my last report, I ended upon my top note with Barrymore at the window, and now I have quite a budget already which will, and as I am much mistaken, considerably surprise you. Things have taken a turn which I could not have anticipated. In some ways, they have within the last 48 hours become much clearer, and in some ways, they have become more complicated. But I will tell you all and you shall judge for yourself. Before breakfast on the morning following my adventure,

I went down the corridor and examined the room in which Barrymore had been on the night before. The Western window through which he had stared so intently has, I noticed, one peculiarity above all other windows in the house. It commands the nearest outlook onto the more. There is an opening between two trees which enables one from this point of view to look right down upon it. While from all the other windows, it is only a distant glimpse which can be attained.

It follows therefore that Barrymore, since only this window would serve the purpose, must have been looking out for something or somebody upon the more. The night was very dark, so that I can hardly imagine how he could have hoped to see anyone. It had struck me that it was possible that some love intrigue was on foot. That would have accounted for his stealthy movements and also for the uneasiness of his wife. The man is a striking looking fellow very well equipped to

steal the heart of a country girl, so that this theory seemed to have something to support it. That's opening of the door which I had heard after I had returned to my room, might mean that he had gone out to keep some clandestine appointment. So I reasoned with myself in the morning and I tell you the direction of my suspicions, however much the result may have shown that they were unfounded. But whatever the true explanation of Barrymore's movements might be,

I felt that the responsibility of keeping them to myself until I could explain them was more than I could bear. I had an interview with the barrenet in his study after breakfast, and I told him all that I had seen. He was less surprised than I had expected. I know that Barrymore walked about nights and I had a mind to speak to him about it, said he. Two or three times I have heard his steps in the passage coming and going just about the

hour you name. Perhaps then he pays a visit every night to that particular window, I suggested. Perhaps he does. If so, we should be able to shadow him and see what it is that he is after.

“I wonder what your friend Holmes would do if he were here. I believe that he would do exactly”

what you now suggest, said I. He would follow Barrymore and see what he did. Then we shall do it

chance of that. We'll sit up in my room tonight and wait until he passes.

“So Henry rubbed his hands with pleasure and it was evident that he hailed the adventure as a”

relief to his somewhat quiet life upon the Moor. The Baronette has been in communication with the architect who prepared the plans for Sir Charles and were the contractor from London, so that we may expect great changes to begin here soon. There have been decorators and furnishes up from Plymouth and it is evident that our friend has large ideas and means to spare no pains or expense to restore the grandeur of his family. When the house is renovated and refurnished,

all that he will need will be a wife to make it complete. Between ourselves there are pretty

clear signs that this will not be wanting if the lady is willing, for I have seldom seen a man more infatuated with a woman than he is with our beautiful neighbor, Miss Stapleton. And yet the course of true love does not run quite as smoothly as one would under the circumstances expect. Today, for example, its surface was broken by a very unexpected ripple, which has caused our friend considerable perplexity and annoyance. After the conversation which I have quoted about

Barrymore, Sir Henry put on his hat and prepared to go out, as a matter of course I did the same. "What? Are you coming Watson?" he asked, looking at me in a curious way. "Oh, that depends on whether you are going on the more," said I. "Yes, I am. Well, you know what my instructions are. I am sorry to intrude, but you heard how earnestly homes insisted that I should not leave you, and especially

“that you should not go alone upon the more." So Henry put his hand upon my shoulder with a pleasant smile.”

"My dear fellow," said he, "homes with all his wisdom did not foresee some things which have happened since I have been on the more." "You understand me? I am sure that you are the last man in the world who would wish to be a spoil sport. I must go out alone." It put me in a most awkward position. I was at a loss what to say or what to do, and before I had made up my mind he picked up his cane and was gone. "When I came to think the matter over, my conscience reproached me

bitterly for having on any pretext allowed him to go out of my sight. I imagined what my feelings would be if I had to return to you and to confess that some misfortune had occurred through my disregard for your instructions. I assure you my cheeks flushed at the very thought. It might not

“even now be too late to overtake him so I set off at once in the direction of Mary Pithouse.”

I hurried along the road at the top of my speed without seeing anything of Sir Henry, until I came to the point where the more path branches off. There, fearing that perhaps I had come in the wrong direction after all, I mounted a hill from which I could command of you the same hill which is cut into the dark quarry. Thence, I saw him at once. He was on the more path about a quarter of a mile off and a lady was by his side who could only be Miss Stapleton.

It was clear that there was already an understanding between them and that they had met by a pointement. They were walking slowly along in deep conversation and I saw her making quick little movements of her hands as if she were very earnest in what she was saying while he listened intently and once or twice shook his head in strong descent. I stood among the rocks watching them very much puzzled as to what I should do next. To follow them and break into their

intimate conversation seemed to be an outrage and yet my clear duty was never for an instant

to let him out of my sight. To act the spy upon a friend was a hateful task. Still I could see no better course than to observe him from the hill and to clear my conscience by confessing to him afterwards what I had done. It is true that if any sudden danger had threatened him I was too far away to be a views and yet I am sure that you will agree with me that the position was very difficult and that there was nothing more which I could do.

Our friend, Sahenry and the lady had halted on the path and were standing deeply absorbed

A whisp of green floating in the air caught my eye and another glance showed me that it was

“carried on a stick by a man who was moving among the broken ground. It was stapleton with his butterfly”

net. He was very much closer to the pair than I was and he appeared to be moving in their direction. At this instant Sahenry suddenly drew Miss Stapleton to his side. His arm was round her but it seemed to me that she was straining away from him with her face overted. He stooped his head to hers and she raised one hand as if in protest. Next moment I saw them spring apart and turn hurriedly around. Stapleton was the cause of the interruption. He was running wildly towards them his absurd net

dangling behind him. He just circulated and almost danced with excitement in front of the lovers. What the scene meant I could not imagine but it seemed to me that Stapleton was abusing Sahenry who offered explanations which became more angry as the other refused to accept them.

The lady stood by in haughty silence. Finally Stapleton turned upon his heel

and beckoned in a peremptory way to his sister who, after an irresolute glance at Sahenry, walked off by the side of her brother. The naturalists angry gestures showed that the lady was included in his displeasure. The barrenet stood for a minute looking after them and then he walked slowly back the way that he had come, his head hanging, the very picture of rejection. What all this meant I could not imagine but I was deeply ashamed to have witnessed so

intimate a scene without my friend's knowledge. I ran down the hill therefore and met the barrenet at the bottom. His face was flushed with anger and his brows were wrinkled like one who is at his wits end what to do. "Hello Watson, where have you dropped from?" said he. "You don't mean to say that you came after me in spite of all?" I explained everything to him how I had found it impossible to remain behind how I had followed him and how I had witnessed all that had occurred. For an instant

his eyes blazed at me but my frankness disarmed his anger and he broke it last into a rather roofful laugh. "You would have thought the middle of that prairie a fairly safe place for a man to be private," said he. "But by thunder, the whole countryside seems to have been out to see me do my wooing and a mighty poor wooing at that. "Where had you engaged a seat?" I was on that hill. "Quite in the back row, eh? But her brother was well up to the front.

Did you see him come out on us?" "Yes, I did. Did he ever strike you as being crazy this

brother of hers?" I can't say that he ever did. I dare say not. I always thought him saying

enough until today but you can take it from me that either he or I ought to be in a straight jacket. What's the matter with me anyhow? You've lived near me for some weeks, what's until me straight

“now? Is there anything that would prevent me from making a good husband to a woman that I loved?”

I should say not. He can't object to my worldly position so it must be myself that he has this down on. "What has he against me? I never heard man or woman in my life that I know of?" In yet he would not so much as let me touch the tips of her fingers. Did he say so? That and a deal more. I tell you what's and I've only known her these few weeks but from the first I just felt that she was made for me and she too. She was happy when she was with me and that

I'll swear. "There's a light in a woman's eyes that speaks louder than words but he has never let us

get together and it was only today for the first time that I saw a chance of having a few words with her alone. She was glad to meet me but when she did it was not love that she would talk about. And she wouldn't have let me talk about it either if she could have stopped it. She kept coming back to it that this was a place of danger and that she would never be happy until I had left it. I told her that since I had seen her I was in no hurry to leave it and that if she really wanted

“me to go the only way to work it was for her to arrange to go with me. With that I offered in”

as many words to marry her but before she could answer and down came this brother of hers

of his were blazing with fury. What was I doing with the lady? How dare I offer her attentions

“which were distasteful to her? Did I think that because I was a barrenet I could do what I liked?”

If he had not been her brother I should have known better how to answer him. As it was I told in the my feelings towards his sister were such as I was not ashamed of and that I hoped that she might honor me by becoming my wife. That seemed to make the matter no better so then I lost my temper too and I answered him rather more hotly than I should perhaps considering that she was standing by so it ended by his going off with her as you saw. Here am I as badly puzzled a man

as any in this county? Just tell me what it all means what's in an all-oh you more than ever I can hope to pay. I tried one or two explanations but indeed I was completely puzzled myself. Our friends title his fortune, his age, his character and his appearance are all in his favor and I know nothing against him unless it be this dark fate which runs in his family. That his advance should be rejected so brutally without any reference to the lady's own wishes and that

the lady should accept the situation without protest is very amazing. However our conjectures were

set at rest by a visit from Stapleton himself that very afternoon. He had come to offer apologies for his rudeness of the morning and after a long private interview with Sahenri and his study the upshot of their conversation was that the breach is quite healed and that we are to die in at merit house next Friday as a sign of it. "I don't say now that he isn't a crazy man," said Sahenri. "I can't forget the look in his eyes when he ran at me this morning but I must allow that no

“man could make a more handsome apology than he has done. Did he give any explanation of his conduct?”

His sister is everything in his life," he says. "Well that is natural enough and I am glad that

he should understand her value. They have always been together and according to his account he has

been a very lonely man with only her as a companion so that the thought of losing her was really terrible to him." He had not understood. He said that I was becoming attached to her but when he saw with his own eyes that it was really so and that she might be taken away from him, it gave him such a shock that for a time he was not responsible for what he said or did. He was very sorry for all that had passed and he recognized how foolish and how selfish it was that he should imagine that

he could hold a beautiful woman like his sister to himself for her whole life. If she had to leave him he had rather it was to a neighbor like myself and to anyone else but in any case it was a blow to him and it would take him some time before he could prepare himself to meet it. He would withdraw all opposition upon his part if I would promise for three months to let the matter rest and to be content with cultivating the ladies friendship during that time without claiming her love.

This I promised and so the matter rests. So there is one of our small mysteries cleared up. It is something to have touched bottom anywhere in this bog in which we are floundering. We know now why Stapleton looked with disfavor upon his sister's suitor, even when that suitor was so eligible of one as Sahenri. And now I pass on to another thread which I have extricated out of the tangled scheme,

the mystery of the sobbs in the night of the tear-stained face of Mrs. Barrymore,

“of the secret journey of the butler to the western lattice window.”

"Congratulate me, my dear homes, and tell me that I have not disappointed you as an agent that you do not regret the confidence which you showed in me when you sent me down. All these things have by one night's work been thoroughly cleared.

I have said by one night's work but in truth, it was by two night's work for on the first

we drew entirely blank." I set up with Sahenri in his rooms until nearly three o'clock in the morning, but no sound of any sort did we hear except the chiming clock up on the stairs.

Fortunately we were not discouraged and we determined to try again.

“The next night we lowered the lamp and sat smoking cigarettes without making the least sound.”

It was incredible how slowly the hours crawled by, and yet we were helped through it by the same

sort of patient interest which the hunter must feel as he watches the trap into which he hopes the game may wonder. One struck, and two, and we had almost for the second time given it up in despair when, in an instant, we both sat bolt upright in our chairs, with all our weary senses keenly on the alert once more. We had heard the creek of a step in the passage. Very stealthily we heard it pass along until it died away in the distance.

Then the barrenet gently opened his door and we set out in pursuit.

Already our man had gone around the gallery and the corridor was all in darkness.

“Softly we stood along until we had come into the other wing.”

We were just in time to catch the glimpse of the tall black bearded figure. His shoulders rounded as he tiptoed down the passage, then he passed through the same door as before. And the light of the candle framed it in the darkness, and shot one single yellow beam across the gloom of the corridor. We shuffled cautiously towards it, trying every plank before we dared to put our whole weight upon it. We had taken the precaution

of leaving our boots behind us, but even so the old board snapped and creaked beneath our tread. Sometimes it seemed impossible that he should fail to hear our approach, however the man is fortunately rather deaf, and he was entirely preoccupied in that which he was doing. When at last we reached the door and peeped through. We found him crouching at the window. Candle in hand, his white intent face pressed against the pain, exactly as I had seen him

two nights before. We had arranged no plan of campaign, but the barrenet is a man to whom the most

direct way is always the most natural. He walked into the room and as he did so barrimous,

sprang up from the window with a sharp hiss of his breath and stood vivid and trembling before us. His dark eyes glaring out of the white mask of his face were full of horror and astonishment, as he gazed from say Henry to me. "What are you doing here, Barrymore?" Nothings her. His agitation was so great that he could hardly speak, and the shadows sprang up and down from the shaking of his candle. "It was the window, sir, I go round at night to see that

they are fastened." "On the second floor?" "Yes, sir, all the windows." "Look here, Barrymore," said Henry, sternly. "We have made up our minds to have the truth out of you. So it will save you trouble to tell it sooner rather than later. Come now, no lies, what were you doing at that window?" The fellow looked at us in a helpless way, that he wrung his hands together like one who is in the last extremity of doubt and misery. "I was doing no harm, sir. I was holding a candle to

the window. And why were you holding a candle to the window?" "Don't ask me, sir, Henry, don't ask

“me. I'll give you my words, sir, that it is not my secret, and that I cannot tell it. If it”

concerned no one but myself, I would not try to keep it from you." The sudden idea occurred to me and I took the candle from the trembling hand of the butterfly. "He must have been holding it as a signal," said I, "let us see if there is any answer. I held it as he had done and stared out into the darkness of the night." vaguely I could discern the black bank of the trees and the lighter expense of the more for the moon

was behind the clouds. And then I gave a cry of exaltation for a tiny pinpoint of yellow light had suddenly transfixed the dark veil and glowed steadily in the center of the black square framed by the window. "There it is!" I cried. "No, no, sir, it is nothing, nothing at all," the butterfly broke in. "I assure you, sir, move your light across the window." Watson cried the barrenet. "See, the other moves also, now you rascal, do you deny that it is a signal?"

"Come, speak up, who is your confederate out yonder, and what is this conspiracy that is going on?"

then you leave my employment right away." "Very good, sir. If I must, I must, and you go into

“disgrace by thunder, you may well be ashamed of yourself. Your family has lived with mine for over”

a hundred years under this roof, and here I find you deep in some dark plot against me." "No, no, sir. No, not against you." "It was a woman's voice, and Mrs Barrymore, payler, and more horror struck than her husband, was standing at the door. Her bulky figure in a shawl and skirt might have been comic, where it not for the intensity of feeling upon her face. "We have to go, Eliza. This is the end of it. You can pack our things," said the Butler.

"Oh, John, John, have I brought you to this. It is my doing, Sahenry, all mine. He has done nothing except for my sake, and because I asked him." "Speak out then. What does it mean?" "My unhappy brother is starving on the more. We cannot let him perish at our very gates. The light is a signal to him that food is ready for him, and his light out yonder is to show the spot to which to bring it." "Then your brother is. The escaped convict, sir.

“"Seldon, the criminal." "That's the truth, sir," said Barrymore. "I said that it was not my secret”

and that I could not tell it to you, but now you have heard it, and you will see that if there was a plot, it was not against you." "This then was the explanation of the stealthy expeditions at night and the light at the window." "Sahenry and I both stared at the woman in amazement. Was it possible that this solidly respectable person was of the same blood as one of the most notorious criminals in the country?" "Yes, sir. My name was Seldon, and he is my younger brother. We humid him too much

when he was a lad and gave him his own way in everything until he came to think that the world was made for his pleasure, and that he could do what he liked in it. "Then, there's he grew older,

“he met, wicked companions and the devil entered into him, until he broke my mother's heart,”

and dragged our name in the dirt. From crime to crime he sank lower and lower until it is

only the mercy of God, which has snatched him from the scaffold. But to me, sir, he was always the

little curly-headed boy that I had nursed and played with as an elder sister would. That was why he broke prison, sir. He knew that I was here and that we could not refuse to help him. When he dragged himself here one night, weary and starving, with the warders hard at his heels, what could we do? We took him in and fed him and cared for him. Then, you returned, sir, and my brother thought he would be safer on the more than anywhere else until the human cry was over, so he lay

in hiding there. But every second night we made sure if he was still there by putting a light in

the window, and if there was an answer my husband took out some bread and meet to him. Every day we hoped that he was gone, but as long as he was there we could not desert him. That is the whole truth as I am an honest Christian woman and you will see that if there is blame in the matter it does not lie with my husband but with me, for who's sake he has done all that he has. The woman's words came with an intense earnestness which carried conviction with them.

Is this true Barrymore? Yes, sir Henry, every word of it. Well, I cannot blame you for standing by your own wife. Forget what I have said go to your own new tool and we saw talk further about this matter in the morning. When they were gone we looked out of the window again. Sir Henry had flung it open and the cold night wind beat in upon our faces. Far away in the black distance they're still glowed that one tiny point of yellow light.

Very likely, how far do you think it is?

“Out by the cleft tour I think? Not more than a mile or two off, hardly that.”

Well, it cannot be far if Barrymore had to carry out the food to it and he is waiting this villain beside that candle by thunder Watson. I am going out to take that man. The same thought had crossed my own mind. It was not as if the Barrymore's had taken us into their confidence their secret had been forced from them. The man was a danger to the community an unmitigated scoundrel for whom there was neither pity nor excuse. We were only doing our duty

in taking this chance of putting him back where he could do no harm. With his brutal and

violent nature others would have to pay the price if we held our hands.

“Any night for example our neighbors the Stapletons might be attacked by him and it may have been the”

thought of this which made Sir Henry so keen upon the adventure. "I will come," said I. "Then get your revolver and put on your boots the sooner we start the better. As the fellow mate put out his light and be off." In five minutes we were outside the door starting upon our expedition. We hurried through the dark

shrubbery amid the dull moaning of the autumn wind and the rustle of the falling leaves.

The night air was heavy with the smell of damp and decay. Now and again the moon peeped out for an instant but clouds were driving over the face of the sky and just as we came out on the more the thin rain began to fall. The light still burned steadily in front. "Are you armed?" I asked. I have a hunting crop. We must close in on him rapidly for he is said to be a desperate fellow. We shall take him by surprise and have him at our mercy before he can resist.

I say what's and said the barrenet. "What would homes say to this? How about that hour of darkness in which the power of evil is exalted?" As if in answer to his words there rose suddenly out of the vast gloom of the more that strange cry which I had already heard upon the borders of the Great Grimpen Maya. It came with the wind through the silence of the night, a long, deep mutter, then a rising how and then the sad moon in which it died away. Again and again it sounded. The whole

air throbbing with it, strident, wild and menacing. The barrenet caught my sleeve and his face glimmered white through the darkness. "My God, what's that? What's in? I don't know. It's a sound they have on the more I heard it once before." It died away and an absolute silence closed in upon us. We stood straining our ears but nothing came. "What's in?" said the barrenet. "It was the cry of a hound." My blood ran cold in my veins for there was a break in his voice which told of the

sudden horror which had seized him. "What do they call this sound?" he asked. "Who? The folk on the countryside." "Oh, they are ignorant people. Why should you mind what they call it? Tell me, Watson. What do they say of it?" I hesitated but could not escape the question. They say it is the cry of the hound of the baschabils. He groaned and was silent for a few moments.

“A hound it was. He said it last. But it seemed to come from miles away over yonder, I think.”

It was hard to say when it came. It rose and fell with the wind. Isn't that the direction of the great-grimpin' mire? Yes it is. Well, it was up there. Come now, Watson. Didn't you think yourself that it was the cry of a hound? I am not a child. You need not fear to speak the truth. Stapleton was with me when I heard it last, he said that it might be the calling of a strange bird. No. No, it was a hound. My god, can there be some truth in all these stories? Is it

possible that I am really in danger from so dark, it cause? You don't believe it to you, Watson. No.

the darkness of the war, and to hear such a cry as that. And my uncle, there was the footprint of

“the hound beside him, as he lay, it all fits together. I don't think that I am a coward, Watson,”

but that sound seemed to freeze my very blood. Feel my hand. It was as cold as a block of marble. You'll be alright tomorrow. I don't think I'll get that cry out of my head. What do you advise that we do now? Shall we turn back? No. By thunder, we have come out to get our man and we will do it. We, after the convict, and a hound, as likely as not after us. Come on. We'll see it through if all the fiends of the pit will loosen upon the more. We stumbled slowly along in

the darkness with the black loom of the craggy hills around us, and the yellow speck of light burning

steadily in front. There is nothing so deceptive as the distance of a light upon a pitch dark night,

“and sometimes the glimmer seemed to be far away upon the horizon, and sometimes it might have been”

within a few yards of us, but at last we could see when it came. And then we knew that we were indeed very close. A guttering candle was stuck in a crevice of the rocks which flanked on each side so as to keep the wind from it, and also to prevent it from being visible, save in the direction of basketball hall. A boulder of granite concealed our approach, and crouching behind it we gazed over it at the signal light. It was strange to see this single candle burning there in the middle

of the more with no sign of life near it, just the one straight yellow flame and the gleam of the rock on each side of it. What shall we do now? Whispered to Henry. Wait here. He must be near

“his light, let us see if we can get a glimpse of him. The words were hardly out of my mouth”

when we both saw him. Over the rocks and the crevice of which the candle burned, there was thrust out an evil yellow face, a terrible animal face, all seemed and scored with vile passions, foul with mire, with a bristling beard, and hung with matted hair, it might well have belonged to one of those old savages who dwelt in the burrows on the hillside. The light beneath him was reflected in his small cunning eyes which peered fissly to rightened left through the darkness,

like a crafty and savage animal who was heard the steps of the hunters. Something had evidently aroused his suspicions. It may have been that Barrymore had some private signal which we had neglected to give, or the fellow may have had some other reason for thinking that all was not well. But I could read his fears upon his wicked face. Any instant he might dash out the light and vanish in the darkness. I sprang forward, therefore, and so Henry did the same. At the same moment,

the convict screamed out a curse at us and hurled a rock which splintered up against the boulder which had sheltered us. I caught one glimpse of his short squat, strongly built figure as he sprang to his feet and turned to run. At the same moment by a lucky chance the moon broke through the clouds. We rushed over the brow of the hill and there was our man running with great speed down the other side, springing over the stones in his way with the activity of a mountain goat.

A lucky long shot of my revolver might have crippled him, but I had brought it only to defend myself if attacked and not to shoot an unarmed man who was running away. We were both swift runners and in fairly good training, but we soon found that we had no chance of overtaking him. We saw him for a long time in the moonlight until he was only a small speck, moving swiftly among the boulders upon the side of a distant hill. We ran and ran until we were completely blown but the space between us

grew ever wider. Finally we stopped and sat panting on two rocks while we watched him disappearing

in the distance. And it was at this moment that there occurred a most strange and unexpected thing. We had risen from our rocks and were turning to go home having abandoned the hopeless chase. The moon was low upon the right and the jagged pinnacle of a granite tour stood up against the lower curve of its silver disc. There, outlined as black as an Ebony statue on that shining background,

I assure you that I have never in my life seen anything more clearly. As far as I could judge,

“the figure was that of a tall thin man. He stood with his legs a little separated, his arms folded,”

his head bowed as if he were brooding over that enormous wilderness of peat and granite which lay before him. He might have been the very spirit of that terrible place. It was not the convict. This man was far from the place where the latter had disappeared besides he was a much taller man.

With a cry of surprise I pointed him out to the barrenit. But in the instant during which I had

turned to grasp his arm, the man was gone. There was the sharp pinnacle of granite still cutting the

“lower edge of the moon but its peak bore no trace of that silent and motionless figure.”

I wished to go in that direction and to search the tour but it was some distance away. The barrenit's nerves were still quivering from that cry which recalled the dark story of his family and he

was not in the mood for fresh adventures. He had not seen this lonely man upon the tour and could

not feel the thrill which his strange presence and his commanding attitude had given to me. A water, no doubt, said he. The more has been thick with them since this fellow escaped. Well perhaps his explanation may be the right one but I should like to have some further proof of it. Today we mean to communicate to the printstown people where they should look for their missing man but it is hard lines that we have not actually had the triumph of bringing him back

“as our prisoner. Such are the adventures of last night and you must acknowledge my dear homes that”

I have done you very well in the matter of a report. Much of what I tell you is no doubt quite irrelevant but still I feel that it is best that I should let you have all the facts and leave you to select for yourself those which will be of most service to you in helping you to your conclusions. We are certainly making some progress so far as the Barrymore's go we have found the motive of their actions and that has cleared up the situation very much but the more with its mysteries

and its strange inhabitants remains as inscrutable as ever. Perhaps in my next I may be able to throw some light upon this also. Best of all would it be if you could come down to us. In any case you will hear from me again in the course of the next few days. Next time in the hound of the Vaskavils such as Vaskavils plans on the night he was murdered are revealed. Reports start coming in that a young boy has been sighted on the more and a late night's

stake out leads to a surprise for Dr Watson. That's next time. Can't wait until the next episode. Well listen to it right away by subscribing to Noiser Plus. Head to www.noiser.com/subscriptions for more information or click the link in the episode description.