Chapter 12 Tragedy on Twelve Glades

I sat there holding my breath for a minute or two and couldn't believe my ears.Then my senses came back to me and I was able to speak, and at the same time it seemed at once that heavy responsibility was lifted from my heart.Because that cold, sharp and mocking voice could only belong to that person. "Holmes!" I cried. "Holmes!" "Come out!" he said, "and watch out for your revolver." I hunched over under the rough doorjamb and saw him sitting outside on a rock.His gray eyes rolled with joy when he saw my startled expression.He looked thin and dark, but clear and alert, his alert face browned by the sun and roughened by the wind.In his tweed suit and cloth cap he looked exactly like any traveler on the moor, and he managed to manage with the feline care for personal cleanliness which was one of his traits, his chin He was clean-shaven, and his clothes were as clean as they had been in Baker Street.

"I've never been happier in my life seeing anyone," I said, shaking his hand. "Or more surprising than that, huh?" "Oh, I have to admit it." "It's not just a one-sided surprise. Let me tell you, I really didn't expect you to have found my temporary hiding place, let alone you were hiding in the house until I was less than twenty miles from the door. I only found out when I was walking." "I suppose it's because of my footprints?" "No, Watson, I'm afraid I can't guarantee that I'll be able to distinguish your footprint from those of the world. If you really want to fool me, you'll have to change your brand of cigarettes. For as soon as I saw 'Bradley, Oxford Street' stamped on the butt, I knew that my friend Watson must be near. You can find him on the side of the lane. No doubt, It was at that critical moment when you stormed into the empty house that you threw it away."

"Exactly." "Having thought of this, and knowing your admirable, indomitable character, I knew you were sitting in the dark, with your pistol in your hand, waiting for the master of the house to return. You really Think I'm that fugitive?" "I don't know who you are, but I am determined to find out." "Excellent, Watson! How did you know my location? Perhaps you saw me standing before the rising moon by accident on the night of the capture of the fugitive?" "By the way, I saw you that time." "You must have searched all the huts before you found this stone hut?"

"No, I saw the kid you hired, and he pointed me in the direction to search." "Saw it at the old gentleman with the telescope. I couldn't figure out what it was when I saw the glint on the lens at first." He got up and looked into the cabin. "Huh Well, Cartley brought me something to eat again, and what's this piece of paper? So you've been to Combe Tracy, haven't you?" "correct." "To see Mrs. Laura Lyons?" "That's right." "Good job! Obviously, our research direction is the same. I hope that when our research results come together, we can have a fuller understanding of this case."

"Well, I'm really glad you're here, and my nerves are overwhelmed by the weight of the responsibility and the mystery of the case. But how on earth did you get here? What do you do? I Thought you were working on the anonymous threatening letter case in Baker Street." "That's what I want you to think." "So you use me, but you don't trust me!" I exclaimed angrily. "I don't think I should have gone so far in your eyes, Holmes." "My dear fellow, in this case, as in many others, you have been invaluable to me, and if it seems that I have played any trick on you, please Forgive me. As a matter of fact, I did it partly for your sake, and it was because I felt the danger you ran that I came here to look into it myself. If I and you—Henry Jazz and you—if they are together, I believe your opinion must be the same as mine. As long as I show up, it is equivalent to sending a warning to our opponents and telling them to be more careful. In fact, I have always been free If I were living on the estate, there would be no possibility of it. I made myself an unknown part in the matter, ready to give my all in a pinch."

"But why keep me in the dark?" "Because it won't help us if you know it, and it might get me discovered. You must try to come and tell me something, or send me something useful, so that we can Unnecessary risk. I brought Cartley--you must remember the little fellow at the Helpers' Office--and he took care of my simple needs: a loaf of bread and a clean pair of A stiff collar. What more could a man need? He has given me a pair of hardworking feet and an extra pair of eyes, and both of these things are invaluable to me." "Then I'm afraid all the reports I wrote were in vain!" I recalled the hard work and pride I had when I wrote those reports, and my voice trembled.

Holmes drew a roll of papers from his pocket. "Here is your report, my dear companion, and it has been read over and over again, I assure you. I have arranged it so well that it is only delayed a day on the way. I have the highest respect for the passion and wisdom shown in this case." I was still uncomfortable at being fooled, but the warmth of these compliments from Holmes drove away my anger.I also felt in my heart that he was right, that it was the best thing to do for our purposes, and that I should not have known that he had come to the moor. "That's all right," said he, when he saw that the shadow had faded from my face, "and now tell me the result of your interview with Mrs. Laura Lyons. I can easily imagine that you went there for It was her, because I already knew she was the only one who could help us in this matter at Coombe Tracy's. Seriously, if you don't go today, it's very Maybe tomorrow I will go."

The sun had gone down, and dusk hung over the moor.The air had grown cooler, so we retreated into the hut for warmth.We sat together in the twilight, and I related to Holmes what I had said to the lady.He was so interested that I had to repeat certain parts twice before he was satisfied. "This matter is of the utmost importance," he said when I had finished, "and it fills the gap in this most complicated matter which I have not been able to connect. As you probably already know, in this There is still a very intimate relationship between the lady and Mr. Stapleton?" "I didn't know about this intimate relationship!"

"There's no question about it. They've seen each other a lot, they've written a lot, and they know each other very well. Now, that's a powerful weapon in our hands. If we use it to divide his wife... " "His wife?!" "I will now give you some information in return for all that you have given me. The lady known here as Miss Stapleton is in fact his wife." "My God, Holmes! What are you talking about?! Then how did he make Sir Henry fall in love with her?" "Sir Henry's fall in love will do no harm to anyone but Sir Henry himself. He took special care to keep Sir Henry from courting her, as you have seen. I repeat, that A lady is his wife, not his sister."

"But why did he set up this elaborate deception?" "Because he has already seen that it would be much more useful to him to have her pretend as a maiden." All my speculations, my vague doubts suddenly became concrete and focused on the biologist.In this man with a straw hat and a butterfly net, lacking enthusiasm and character, I seem to see something terrible-infinite patience and cunning, a fake smile and a vicious heart. "Then it is he who is our enemy, and who is following us in London?" "That's how I saw through the mystery." "That warning must have been sent by her?"

"Exactly." A most dreadful crime which had been haunting my mind for so long, vaguely, half-supposedly, loomed out of the gloom. "But are you sure of that, Holmes? How do you know that woman is his wife?" "Because when he first met you, he couldn't help telling you a true part of his life. I dare say that since then, he has regretted it more than once. He used to be in There was once a primary school headmaster in the north of England. Now, there is nothing easier to find out than a primary school headmaster. Anyone who has worked in the education field can be found out through the educational institutions. I did a little research. It was ascertained that there had been an elementary school which had collapsed under dire circumstances, and that the owner of the school—with a different name—and his wife had disappeared. Their features were the same as those we see here. All of them match. When I know that the missing person is also passionate about entomology, the work of identifying people will be successfully completed." The dark story has been gradually revealed, but most of the truth is still hidden. "If this woman was really his wife, how did Mrs. Laura Lyons come in?" I asked. "That's just one of the whole problems, and it's been revealed by your investigative work. Your interview with the lady has made it much clearer. I don't know that she and her husband want to Divorce. If she had really planned a divorce, and treated Stapleton as an unmarried man, she would doubtless have thought of being his wife." "But what if she figured out the deception?" "Oh, in that case the lady might be of use to us. Of course we should go to her first--we will both go to-morrow. Don't you think, Watson, that you have been away from your duties for too long?" ? You were supposed to be at Baskerville Manor." The last rays of sunset also faded in the west, and night fell on the moor.In the purple sky, there are a few half-bright and half-dark stars twinkling. "And one last question, Holmes," I said, rising. "Of course, there is no need to keep any secrets between us. What does he mean by this? What is his purpose?" Holmes lowered his voice when he answered: "It was murder, Watson, a deliberate murder of the utmost ferocity. Don't ask me for details. As his net was around Sir Henry, mine was closing in on him." , and with your assistance, he's almost in my possession. The only danger we're left with is the possibility that he might strike us before we do. Another day—two at most— I'll finish the preparatory work for the case; until then, you'll have to watch over the person you're protecting like a loving mother watches over her sick child. It turns out that what you did today was the right thing to do Yes, but I still hope it would be better for you not to leave his side. Listen!" A terrible scream—a continuous cry of terror and rage broke the silence of the moor.That horrible cry almost froze the blood in my veins. "Oh, my God!" I gasped. "What is this? What does it mean?" Holmes stood up abruptly, and I saw his black, athletic figure standing at the door of the cabin, shoulders drooping, head thrust forward, looking out into the darkness. "Hush!" he said softly. "Keep quiet." Because of the urgency of the situation, the shout was loud, and at first it came from a distant place on the dark plain.The sound rushing into our eardrums now seems to be getting closer, louder, and more urgent than before. "Which side?" asked Holmes in a low voice.From the excited voice of such a strong man, I knew that he was also deeply shocked, "Which side is it, Watson?" "I think it's over there." I pointed into the darkness. "No, it's over there." The cries of pain resounded through the silent night, getting louder and much closer than before.There was a new sound in the mix, a deep murmur, melodious and terrible at once, rising and falling like the never-ending murmur of the sea. "The Hound!" cried Holmes. "Come, Watson! Come. Good heavens! We may be too late!" Immediately he broke into a gallop across the moor, and I followed him.But suddenly, right in front of us, from the jagged and uneven patch of broken stone, there came a final cry of despair, followed by a vague and heavy thud.We stood and listened, for no other sound broke the stillness of the windless night. I saw Holmes stamping his foot with his hand on his brow like a man out of his wits. "He has beaten us, Watson. We are too late." "No, no, definitely not." "What a fool I was to take no action, and you, Watson, know by now what it means to let go of the man you are supposed to protect! My God! If the unfortunate thing happens at last, we You have to take revenge on him." We scuttled along in the dark, bumping into boulders, weaving our way through gorse bushes, up the hill out of breath, and down another slope, toward the Go in the direction that the terrible voice came from.Every time he reached a high place, Holmes looked anxiously around, but the moor was very dark, and nothing moved on the desolate ground. "Did you see anything?" "I didn't see anything." "But do you hear what that sound is?" A low moan reached our eardrums, again to our left! On that side there was a ledge, which ended in a steep cliff, and from there a stony slope could be seen.On the uneven ground, there was a pile of dark, irregularly shaped objects.As we ran closer to it, the blurred outline became clear.It turned out to be a person lying on the ground, with his head terribly nestled under his body, and his body curled up into a ball, as if about to somersault.His appearance was so special that I couldn't believe it at the time. The sound I heard just now came from his soul when he was shelling out.The man we were bending over didn't speak or move.Holmes seized him and lifted him up, with a cry of horror.He struck a match, and the light showed the dead man's clenched fingers, and also the horrible, slowly expanding pool of blood that had flowed from his broken skull.The firelight also illuminated another thing which made us almost faint with grief--it was the body of Sir Henry Baskerville! Neither of us could ever forget that particular reddish tweed suit--the one we saw him in Baker Street that first morning.We only had one distinct look, and the match flickered and went out, like hope leaving our souls.Holmes groaned, his face pale even in the darkness. "The beast! The beast!" I cried, clenching my fists. "I can never forgive myself, Holmes, for having brought his doom by leaving his side." "I have been more guilty than you, Watson. In order to make every possible preparation for the crime, I should have given up the life of our client. In all my life's work this has been my The worst blow I've ever received. But how did I know—how did I know—that he, in spite of all my warnings, came out into the moor, alone, and risked his life?" "We heard his cry--my God, the cry!--but it did not save him! Where is the hound that killed him? It may be turning among the rocks now Turn around. And Stapleton, where is he? He must be responsible for this." "Of course he is responsible. I promise he will. Both uncle and nephew have been killed--one from the sight of the beast he thought was a monster; Ben escaped and died. Now we have to try to prove the relationship between man and beast. If we hadn't heard the voice, we wouldn't even believe the existence of the beast, because Sir Henry obviously fell to his death. Yes. But, for God's sake, no matter how cunning he is, I'm going to catch this guy if he won't make it past tomorrow!" We stand sadly on both sides of this mangled corpse. Our long-term toil has come to such a pitiful result. This sudden and irreversible disaster makes us feel extremely heavy.At last, after moonrise, we climbed to the top of the rock where our poor friend had fallen, and from the apex peered out into the dark moor.There was a silvery glow in the darkness, and miles away, towards Greenpen, there was a lone yellow fire that could only have come from the lonely Stapleton house. house.Looking ahead, I shook my fists in fury at it, and cursed viciously. "Why don't we catch him right away?" "The conditions for us to solve the case are not yet ripe, and the guy is extremely careful and cunning; the problem is not how much we have learned, but what we can prove. If we make a wrong move, the villain may be out of our hands." slipped away." "So, what shall we do?" "Tomorrow we have plenty to do, and tonight we can only do funeral affairs for our poor friend." The two of us went down the steep slope together and walked towards the corpse. On the stone reflecting the silver light, the black body could be seen clearly; the painful appearance of the twisted limbs made me feel sad, and the tears blurred my eyes. . "We've got to get help, Holmes! We can't carry him all the way to the manor..." I hadn't finished my sentence when he uttered a cry, and stooped over the body.Seeing this, I couldn't help exclaiming, "My God, are you crazy!" Holmes started to dance, laughed and grabbed my hand and shook it.Is this my serious and self-possessed friend?This is really a suffocating fire burning out! "Beard! Beard! This man has a beard!" "Have a beard?" "It's not the baronet—it's—oh, it's my neighbour, the fugitive!" I quickly turned the dead body over, and the beard dripping with blood was tilted towards the cold and clear moon.His protruding forehead and wildly sunken eyes were unmistakable. It was indeed the face that had flashed before my eyes from behind the stone in the candlelight that day—the face of the fugitive Seldan. I understood it all at once, and I remembered that the Baronet had told me that he had given Barrymore his old clothes.Barrymore sent these clothes on to help Celdan escape, boots, shirt, hat--all Sir Henry's.The tragedy was bad enough, but according to the laws of the country, at least this man died unjustly.I told Holmes the cause of the matter, and my blood boiled with gratitude to God and the joy of my heart. "Then the clothes were what killed the scoundrel," said he, "and it is clear that the hound was released on the trail after it had smelled what Sir Henry was wearing - most likely It was the high leather shoe that had been stolen in the hotel--hence the man being pursued until he fell to his death. But one thing is very strange: How could Seldan, in the dark, know that the dog was following him? What's behind?" "He heard it." "The mere sound of a hound in the moor would never have terrified a man as cruel as this escaped convict, and risked his arrest again. Judging by his cry, in the He must have run a long way after he knew the dog was after him. How did he know?" "There is one more thing that I find particularly mysterious. Assuming our deduction is completely correct, then why does this dog..." "I don't want to speculate on anything." "Ah, then why was the dog let out to-night alone? I suppose the dog wasn't left to run about in the moor forever. Unless there was reason to think Sir Henry was going there, Stapleton wouldn't Will let it out." "Of the two difficulties, mine is the more troublesome one, and I think yours will soon be answered, but mine may remain a mystery forever. The question at hand is: the poor wretch's Corpse, what should we do? We can't put him here to feed foxes and crows!" "I suggest putting him in a shed before we get in touch with the police." "Yes, I'm sure you and I can lift him. Ah, Watson, what's the matter? It's him, and what a marvelous audacity! Don't you say a word that shows suspicion, not a word." Otherwise, all my plans will come to an end." On the moor, a man was walking towards us, and I saw a faint cigar smoke.The moonlight shone on him, and I could see the biologist's short, dainty figure and brisk, triumphant steps.He stopped when he saw us, then came forward again. "Oh, Dr. Watson, it can't be you, is it? I never thought I'd see you in the moor at such a late hour of night. Oh, my God, what's going on? Is anyone hurt? No—don't tell me this is our friend Sir Henry!" He hurried past us, stooping over the dead man.I heard him gasp suddenly, and the cigar dropped from his fingers. "Who, who is this?" he stammered. "It's Seldan, the one who escaped from Princetown." Stapleton turned to us, pale, but with great effort he suppressed alarm and disappointment.He fixed his eyes on Holmes and me. "My God! What a marvel! How did he die?" "It looks as though he broke his neck on these rocks. My friend and I were walking in the moor when we heard the shouting." "I heard the shouting too, and that's why I ran out. I was very worried for Sir Henry." "Why worry only about Sir Henry?" I couldn't help asking. "Because I had asked him to come, and I was taken aback by his absence, so when I heard the shouts from the moor, I was, of course, alarmed for his safety." His My face suddenly turned to Holmes again. "Besides that shout, did you hear anything else?" "No," said Holmes. "And you?" "nor." "Then what do you mean by asking that?" "Oh, you know the stories the peasants tell about that ghostly dog ​​and all that can be heard in the moor at night. I was wondering if it was possible to hear such a sound tonight Woolen cloth." "We haven't heard anything like that," I said. "But how do you think the poor fellow died?" "I'm sure the anxiety and the long sleep out have driven him mad. He must have been running wildly in the moor, where he fell at last and broke his neck." "That seems like the most reasonable statement," said Stapleton, with a sigh.I took it to mean that he was relieved. "What do you think, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" My friend owed and returned the gift. "You recognize people really quickly," he said. "Ever since Dr. Watson came, it has been known here that you will be coming. You are in time to see this tragedy." "Yes, it is, and I am sure my friend's explanation will sum up the whole truth. I shall return to London to-morrow with an unpleasant recollection." "Oh, are you going back tomorrow?" "That's my plan." "I hope that this visit of yours can shed some light on these matters that we have been puzzled by." Holmes shrugged his shoulders. "People don't always succeed according to their own subjective desires. Those in charge of investigations need facts, not legends and rumours. This case was not handled satisfactorily." My friend spoke in his most frank and careless manner.Stapleton was still staring at him, and then he turned to me again. "I would have suggested that the poor fellow should be taken to my house, but he would be such a fright to my sister that I thought it better not to do so. I thought it would be better to cover his head with something. It's safe and sound, let's figure it out tomorrow morning." And so it was arranged.Holmes and I declined Stapleton's kind invitation, and walked to Baskerville Park, leaving the biologist to go back alone.We looked back and saw the figure still moving slowly away across the wide moor; .