Chapter 3 three doubts

Frankly, I trembled all over at these words, and the doctor's voice trembled too, showing that even he was deeply moved by what he had told us himself.Holmes leaned forward in amazement, his eyes shining with that intense concentration which is characteristic of him when he is deeply interested in a subject. "Did you really see it?" "As clearly as I see you now." "Did you say nothing?" "What's the use of talking!" "Why didn't others see it?" "The paw print was about twenty yards from the body, and no one noticed it. I don't think I would have found it if I hadn't known the legend."

"Are there many sheep-dogs in the moor?" "Of course there are many, but this one is not a sheepdog." "Did you say it was big?" "It's huge." "Didn't it get close to the body?" "No." "What kind of night was that?" "It's damp and cold." "It's not raining, is it?" "No." "What's the lane like?" "There are two rows of old yew hedges, twelve feet high, so densely planted that no one can pass, with a path eight feet wide between them." "Is there anything between the hedge and the path?"

"Yes, there is a meadow about six feet wide on either side of the path." "I suppose the hedge was cut off at one point by the gate?" "Yes, it is the gate that opens onto the moor." "Any other openings?" "there is none left." "Then the only way to get into the water-pine alley is through the mansion or through the gate that opens onto the moor?" "There's another exit through the gazebo at the other end." "Has Sir Childs gone there?" "No, it was about fifty yards from where he lay." "Now, Dr. Mortimer, please tell me—this is an important point—that the footprints you see are on the path and not in the grass?"

"I can't see any marks on the grass." "On the side of the lane near the gate to the moor?" "Yes, on the side of the road beyond the gate." "Your words have aroused my great interest. One more point, is the gate closed?" "Closed, and locked with a lock." "How high is the door?" "About four feet." "Then anyone can climb over?" "yes." "Did you see any marks on the gate?" "No particular trace." "Strange! Has no one checked?" "I checked it, I checked it myself."

"Did you find nothing?" "It's pretty darn confusing; apparently Sir Childs stood there for five or ten minutes." "How do you know?" "Because the ashes fell from his cigar twice." "That's wonderful, Watson. He's a colleague. He thinks the same way as we do. But where's the footprint?" "His footprints were here and there on that little patch of gravel; I could see no other footprints." Sherlock Holmes tapped his knee with impatience. "If only I had been there!" he exclaimed. "Obviously this is a case of great interest, which affords criminologists a wide range of opportunities for research work. I could have watched it from the gravel ground. There were many clues; but now the rain and the clogs of the spectator peasants have obliterated the traces. Ah! Dr. Mortimer, Dr. Mortimer, why didn't you ask me then! Seriously, you are responsible for this."

"I cannot invite you, Mr. Holmes, without revealing these truths to the world, and I have given reasons for my reluctance. At the same time, at the same time—" "Why do you hesitate to tell?" "There are problems that even the most astute and seasoned detective can't solve." "You mean it's a weird thing?" "I'm not saying that for sure." "You didn't say that for sure. But it's clear you thought so." "Since this tragedy, Mr. Holmes, I have heard things that are hardly reconciled with the laws of nature."

"Please give me an example." "I know that before this dreadful thing happened, there were people who had seen in the moors an animal of the same shape as the said monster of the Baskervilles, and which was by no means a beast known to science. They all said with one voice. Said it was a big thing, glowing, and hideous like a devil. I have questioned these people; The same tales are told of this dreadful apparition, which fits perfectly with the frightful hounds of the fables. You may believe that the whole district is gripped with terror, and that it is daring to walk across the moor at night. people."

"Don't you—a man of scientific literacy—believe it to be a supernatural thing?" "I don't know what to believe." Holmes shrugged his shoulders. "So far my investigations have been limited to the human world," he said, "and I have struggled only a little against evil. But it may be beyond my reach to contact the god of all evil. But whatever Anyway, you have to admit that the footprints are real." "This queer hound is real enough to tear a man's throat out, but he does look like a monster." "I can see that you are already very inclined towards the supernaturalists. But tell me now, Dr. Mortimer, why you came to me if you held this view? You responded in the same tone. I said it was useless to make an inquiry into Sir Childs' death, and you wanted me to."

"I didn't say I wanted you to investigate." "So how can I help you?" "I would like you to tell me what to do with Sir Henry Baskerville, who is about to arrive at Waterloo Station?" Dr. Mortimer looked at his watch. "He will be there in an hour and a quarter. " "Is he the heir?" "By the way, after Sir Childs' death we investigated the young gentleman and found that he had been farming in Canada. From what we know, he was, in all respects, a very fine man. I speak now, not as a doctor, but as trustee and executor of Sir Childs' will."

"I suppose there are no other applicants for succession?" "No. The only other person we can trace back to his kindred was Roger Baskerville. He was the youngest of three brothers, Sir Charles the eldest. One, the second brother, who died young, was the father of the boy Henry. The third brother, Roger, was the worst of the family, and he was really in the same line as that imperious old Baskerville; The portrait of old Hugo is very lifelike. He lost his footing in England and fled to Central America, where he died of yellow fever in 1876. Henry was the last surviving son of the Baskervilles. I shall meet him at Waterloo station in an hour and five minutes. I have received a telegram that he has arrived at Southampton this morning. What do you propose me to do with him now, Mr. Holmes? "

"Why not let him go to the house where his ancestors lived?" "Seems fitting, doesn't it? But considering the terrible fate that every Baskerville family meets if he goes there. I think that if Sir Childs had time to be with him before he died Had I spoken, he would have warned me against bringing the last of the ancient family and heir to great wealth to this fatal place. But it cannot be denied that the prosperity and happiness of the whole poor, desolate country depended on Because of his coming. If there were no master on the estate, all the good deeds of Sir Childs would be gone. Since I am obviously interested in this matter, I am afraid that my personal opinion has too much influence on the matter, so I brought this case to you and asked for your opinion." Holmes considered for a moment. "The thing is, in short," said he, "that your opinion is that there is a diabolical force which has made Dart Moor a restless place for the Baskervilles--that is your opinion. Opinion?" "At least I can say that there are some indications that might be the case." "Yes. But surely, if your genie is true, the young man will be as unlucky in London as he is in Devonshire. A devil, like a parish church, only in the parish church." It’s unimaginable to exercise local authority.” "Had you been in touch with these matters yourself, Mr. Holmes, perhaps you would have been less rash in your judgment. Your opinion, as I understand it, is that the young man would be as safe in Devonshire as he was in London. It will be here in fifty minutes, what do you think should be done?" "Sir, I suggest that you get into a cab, take away your setter which is scratching my front door, and fetch Sir Henry Baskerville at Waterloo." "and then?" "Then, tell him nothing until I have made a decision on the matter." "How long will it take you to make a decision?" "Twenty-four hours. If you will come to me here at ten o'clock to-morrow, Dr. Mortimer, I shall be very grateful; and if you will come with Sir Henry Baskerville, then It will help me better plan for the future." "I will, Mr. Holmes." He penciled the appointment on his sleeve, and hurried off with his strange, staring, absent-minded air.When he reached the landing, Holmes stopped him again. "One more question, Dr. Mortimer. Do you say that, before Sir Charles Baskerville died, some people saw this ghost in the moor?" "Three people saw it." "Did anyone see it later?" "I haven't heard of it." "Thank you and good morning." Holmes returned to his seat with the quiet contentment which showed that he had found employment to his liking. "Going out, Watson?" "Yes, but if it can help you, I won't go out." "No, my dear fellow, I turn to you only when action is taken. It is wonderful, and from some points of view it is something special. When you pass Bradley's , will you ask them to send a pound of strong pipe tobacco? Thank you. If it is convenient for you, please do not come back until evening. Let’s compare the various impressions of the case.” I know that, when I'm concentrated, weighing bits and pieces of evidence, making different hypotheses, comparing them, and finally deciding what's important and what's not true, shutting up and thinking all day, to my friend It is extremely necessary.I therefore spent all my time in the club, and did not return to Baker Street till evening.It was almost nine o'clock when I sat down in the lounge again. When I opened the door, the first thing I felt was that it was on fire, because the room was full of smoke, and I couldn't even see the light of the desk lamp clearly.After I walked in, I was finally relieved, because the thick rough smoke choked my throat and coughed.Through the smoke, I vaguely saw the figure of Holmes in pajamas curled up in an easy chair, smoking a black clay pipe, surrounded by rolls of paper. "Have you caught a cold, Watson?" said he. "No, it's all about the poisonous air." "Ah, you're right, I think the air is indeed thick enough." "It was unbearably thick." "Then open the window! I can see you've been in the club all day?" "My dear Holmes!" "Am I right?" "Of course, but why—" He laughed at my inexplicable look. "You have such a lighthearted air, Watson, that I am tempted to play tricks on you. A gentleman goes out on a muddy rainy day; He must have sat still all day. He is still a man with no close friends, so where else would he have been? Isn't that obvious?" "Yes, quite obviously." "There are obvious things in the world that nobody sees. Where do you think I'm staying?" "Isn't this staying here without moving?" "On the contrary, I have been to Devonshire." "Has 'Spirit' gone?" "Exactly, my physical body has been sitting in this easy chair. But unfortunately, I drank two large pots of coffee and smoked an unbelievable amount of coffee while the 'spirit' was flying away. Tobacco. After you left, I sent someone to the Stamford police station to get a map of the area with the swamp. My 'spirit' walked on this map for a day. I am confident that the roads in that area have It's pretty clear." "I suppose it's a very detailed map?" "Very detailed." He opened a part of the map and put it on his lap. "This is the district with which we are particularly concerned. In the middle is Baskerville Hall." "Is it surrounded by woods?" "Yes. I think the yew line, though not marked here, must have followed that line; and the moor, as you can see, is to the right of it. The The little pile of houses is Grimpen Village, where our friend Dr. Mortimer's house is. Within a radius of five miles, you can see only a few scattered houses. This is what was mentioned in the incident Ryford Manor. Here is a marked house, probably that of the biologist; his name is Stapleton, if I remember correctly. Here are two farmhouses on the Moor, Godow and Fermey Well, fourteen miles away is the Great Prison of Princestown. Between and around these scattered points stretches the desolate moor. Here is the stage on which tragedies have been staged, and which, perhaps with our help, will continue Put on some good shows." "This must be a wild place." "Ah, the surrounding environment is really suitable. If the devil really wants to meddle in the affairs of the world..." "Then you yourself are inclined to speak of gods and monsters." "Perhaps the agents of the devil are flesh and blood, can't they? We are faced with two questions: first, whether there was a fact of the crime; Of course, if Dr. Mortimer's suspicions are correct, we shall be dealing with forces beyond the ordinary laws of nature; After all the assumptions have been overthrown, we can return to this road to explore. If you have no objection, I think we have to close the window. It is strange, I always feel that thick air can concentrate people's thoughts. Although I still It's not to the point where you have to get into the box to think, but I believe that if you continue to develop, you will definitely get that result. Have you thought about this case in your mind?" "Yes, I think a lot during the day." "What do you think?" "It's too confusing." "The case does have its peculiarities. It has several points which stand out. For example, the change of footprints. What do you think of that?" "Mortimer said the man walked on his toes in that part of the driveway." "He's just repeating what a fool said at the autopsy. Why would a man walk on his toes along the aisle?" "Then how to explain it?" "He was running, Watson—running as hard as he could, he was running for his life, until his heart burst and he fell dead on the floor." "What did he run away from?" "That's our problem. All indications are that the man was mad with fright before he started running." "Why do you say that?" "As far as I can imagine the cause of his fear came from the moor. If so, it seems most probable that only a man who is terribly frightened would run in the opposite direction from the house. If the gypsy's If the testimony can be considered true, he was running and calling for help, but the direction he was running in was the most unlikely direction to get help. Also, who was he waiting for that night? Why did he run in the water pines? Instead of waiting in your own house?" "Do you think he's waiting for someone?" "The man is old and infirm, and we can understand that he would take a walk in the evening; but the ground is wet and the night is so cold. Dr. Mortimer's wisdom is indeed worthy of my great admiration; Is it natural that the soot draws the conclusion that he stood there for five or ten minutes?" "But he goes out every night!" "I don't think he waited every night at the door to the moor. On the contrary, there is evidence that he avoided the moor. He waited there that night, and it was on his way to London. The night before. Things are beginning to take shape, Watson, and are becoming more consistent. Give me my violin, please, and we will wait until tomorrow morning with Dr. Mortimer and Sir Henry Baskerville. Let’s think about it further when we meet.”