Hound of the Baskervilles,Reset Password
WebJun 27, · Title: The Hound of the Baskervilles Author: Arthur Conan Doyle Release Date: October, [eBook #] [Most recently updated: June 27, ] Language: WebSep 19, · Download The Hound of the Baskervilles free in PDF & EPUB format. Download Arthur Conan Doyle.'s The Hound of the Baskervilles for your kindle, tablet, WebHound of the Baskervilles is a novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that was first published in Summary Read our full plot summary and analysis of Hound of the Baskervilles, WebOxford Bookworms Library: The Hound of the Baskervilles Level 4: Word Vocabulary Third Edition Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Retold by Patrick Nobes Dartmoor. A wild, wet WebThe Hound of the Baskervilles - PDF Free Download Home Add Document Sign In Register The Hound of the Baskervilles Home The Hound of the Baskervilles ... read more
First Name. Last Name. Sign up for the free PLUS newsletter. Choose Your Plan. Continue to Payment. Payment Details. Card Number. Security Code. Country United States Australia Canada Hong Kong India South Africa United States My country is not listed. We're sorry, SparkNotes Plus isn't available in your country. Name on Card. Billing Address. Save Card and Continue. Payment Summary. Start 7-Day Free Trial. Your Free Trial Starts Now! Go to My PLUS Dashboard Launch SparkNotes PLUS. Thank You! Redeem a Code Now Manage Your Purchase. Start free trial of SparkNotes Plus. My Account Icon My Account white. My PLUS Activity. Notes Bookmarks Test Prep PLUS No Fear Translations Mastery Quizzes Flashcards Infographics No Fear Graphic Novels.
No Fear Literature Translations Literature Study Guides Glossary of Literary Terms How to Write Literary Analysis. Biography Biology Chemistry Computer Science Drama Economics Film Health History Math Philosophy Physics Poetry Psychology Short Stories Sociology US Government and Politics. Test Prep Lessons AP® English Literature AP® English Language. SparkTeach Teacher's Handbook. Your PLUS subscription has expired. Renew your subscription to regain access to all of our exclusive, ad-free study tools. Renew your subscription. Looking for exclusive, AD-FREE study tools? Look no further! Start your 7-day FREE trial now! Summary Read our full plot summary and analysis of Hound of the Baskervilles , scene by scene break-downs, and more. Sherlock Holmes Chapter II: The Curse of the Baskervilles Chapters III—IV Chapters V—VI Chapter VII: The Stapletons of Merripit House Chapter VIII—IX Chapters X—XI Chapters XII—XIII Chapters XIV—XV.
Full Book Full Book Summary Key Facts. Characters See a complete list of the characters in Hound of the Baskervilles and in-depth analyses of Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Character List Sherlock Holmes Dr. Watson Mr. Literary Devices Here's where you'll find analysis of the literary devices in Hound of the Baskervilles , from the major themes to motifs, symbols, and more. Themes Motifs. Quotes Find the quotes you need to support your essay, or refresh your memory of the book by reading these key quotes. Important Quotes Explained. By Theme The Supernatural Class Isolation By Section Chapter I: Mr. Sherlock Holmes Chapter II: The Curse of the Baskervilles Chapters III—IV Chapters V—VI Chapter VII: The Stapletons of Merripit House Chapters VIII—IX Chapters X—XI Chapters XII—XIII Chapters XIV—XV By Character Sherlock Holmes Dr.
Jack Stapleton Miss Stapleton Sir Henry Baskerville. Quick Quizzes Test your knowledge of Hound of the Baskervilles with quizzes about every section, major characters, themes, symbols, and more. Book Full Book Quiz Chapter 1: Mr. Sherlock Holmes Chapter 2: The Curse of the Baskervilles Chapters Chapters Chapter 7: The Stapletons of Merripit House Chapter Chapters Chapters Chapters More Context Plot Overview Character List Analysis of Major Characters Themes, Motifs, and Symbols. Mini Essays Suggested Essay Topics. Further Study Go further in your study of Hound of the Baskervilles with background information, movie adaptations, and links to the best resources around the web. Suggestions for Further Reading Arthur Conan Doyle and Hound of the Baskervilles Background. Purchase Go to BN. There were several Mortimers, but only one who could be our visitor. I read his record aloud. House-surgeon, from to , at Charing Cross Hospital. Medical Officer for the parishes of Grimpen, Thorsley, and High Barrow.
I think that I am fairly justified in my inferences. As to the adjectives, I said, if I remember right, amiable, unambitious, and absent-minded. It is my experience that it is only an amiable man in this world who receives testimonials, only an unambitious one who abandons a London career for the country, and only an absent-minded one who leaves his stick and not his visiting-card after waiting an hour in your room. Being a heavy stick the dog has held it tightly by the middle, and the marks of his teeth are very plainly visible. It may have been—yes, by Jove, it is a curly-haired spaniel. He had risen and paced the room as he spoke.
Now he halted in the recess of the window. There was such a ring of conviction in his voice that I glanced up in surprise. He is a professional brother of yours, and your presence may be of assistance to me. Now is the dramatic moment of fate, Watson, when you hear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life, and you know not whether for good or ill. What does Dr. James Mortimer, the man of science, ask of Sherlock Holmes, the specialist in crime? Come in! The appearance of our visitor was a surprise to me, since I had expected a typical country practitioner. He was a very tall, thin man, with a long nose like a beak, which jutted out between two keen, grey eyes, set closely together and sparkling brightly from behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. He was clad in a professional but rather slovenly fashion, for his frock-coat was dingy and his trousers frayed. Though young, his long back was already bowed, and he walked with a forward thrust of his head and a general air of peering benevolence.
I would not lose that stick for the world. Mortimer blinked through his glasses in mild astonishment. Your marriage, you say? I married, and so left the hospital, and with it all hopes of a consulting practice. It was necessary to make a home of my own. Holmes, a picker up of shells on the shores of the great unknown ocean. I presume that it is Mr. I have heard your name mentioned in connection with that of your friend. You interest me very much, Mr. I had hardly expected so dolichocephalic a skull or such well-marked supra-orbital development. Would you have any objection to my running my finger along your parietal fissure?
A cast of your skull, sir, until the original is available, would be an ornament to any anthropological museum. It is not my intention to be fulsome, but I confess that I covet your skull. Sherlock Holmes waved our strange visitor into a chair. Have no hesitation in lighting one. The man drew out paper and tobacco and twirled the one up in the other with surprising dexterity. He had long, quivering fingers as agile and restless as the antennæ of an insect. Holmes was silent, but his little darting glances showed me the interest which he took in our curious companion. I came to you, Mr. Holmes, because I recognized that I am myself an unpractical man and because I am suddenly confronted with a most serious and extraordinary problem.
May I inquire who has the honour to be the first? But as a practical man of affairs it is acknowledged that you stand alone. Mortimer, you would do wisely if without more ado you would kindly tell me plainly what the exact nature of the problem is in which you demand my assistance. It would be a poor expert who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so. You may possibly have read my little monograph upon the subject. I put that at Mortimer drew it from his breast-pocket. I may say that I was his personal friend as well as his medical attendant. He was a strong-minded man, sir, shrewd, practical, and as unimaginative as I am myself. Yet he took this document very seriously, and his mind was prepared for just such an end as did eventually overtake him.
Holmes stretched out his hand for the manuscript and flattened it upon his knee. It is one of several indications which enabled me to fix the date. I looked over his shoulder at the yellow paper and the faded script. A most practical, pressing matter, which must be decided within twenty-four hours. But the manuscript is short and is intimately connected with the affair. With your permission I will read it to you. Holmes leaned back in his chair, placed his finger-tips together, and closed his eyes, with an air of resignation. Mortimer turned the manuscript to the light and read in a high, cracking voice the following curious, old-world narrative:. And I would have you believe, my sons, that the same Justice which punishes sin may also most graciously forgive it, and that no ban is so heavy but that by prayer and repentance it may be removed. Learn then from this story not to fear the fruits of the past, but rather to be circumspect in the future, that those foul passions whereby our family has suffered so grievously may not again be loosed to our undoing.
This, in truth, his neighbours might have pardoned, seeing that saints have never flourished in those parts, but there was in him a certain wanton and cruel humour which made his name a by-word through the West. It chanced that this Hugo came to love if, indeed, so dark a passion may be known under so bright a name the daughter of a yeoman who held lands near the Baskerville estate. But the young maiden, being discreet and of good repute, would ever avoid him, for she feared his evil name. So it came to pass that one Michaelmas this Hugo, with five or six of his idle and wicked companions, stole down upon the farm and carried off the maiden, her father and brothers being from home, as he well knew. When they had brought her to the Hall the maiden was placed in an upper chamber, while Hugo and his friends sat down to a long carouse, as was their nightly custom. Now, the poor lass upstairs was like to have her wits turned at the singing and shouting and terrible oaths which came up to her from below, for they say that the words used by Hugo Baskerville, when he was in wine, were such as might blast the man who said them.
Then, as it would seem, he became as one that hath a devil, for, rushing down the stairs into the dining-hall, he sprang upon the great table, flagons and trenchers flying before him, and he cried aloud before all the company that he would that very night render his body and soul to the Powers of Evil if he might but overtake the wench. And while the revellers stood aghast at the fury of the man, one more wicked or, it may be, more drunken than the rest, cried out that they should put the hounds upon her. But anon their bemused wits awoke to the nature of the deed which was like to be done upon the moorlands. Everything was now in an uproar, some calling for their pistols, some for their horses, and some for another flask of wine. But at length some sense came back to their crazed minds, and the whole of them, thirteen in number, took horse and started in pursuit.
The moon shone clear above them, and they rode swiftly abreast, taking that course which the maid must needs have taken if she were to reach her own home. And the man, as the story goes, was so crazed with fear that he could scarce speak, but at last he said that he had indeed seen the unhappy maiden, with the hounds upon her track. But soon their skins turned cold, for there came a galloping across the moor, and the black mare, dabbled with white froth, went past with trailing bridle and empty saddle. Riding slowly in this fashion they came at last upon the hounds. These, though known for their valour and their breed, were whimpering in a cluster at the head of a deep dip or goyal, as we call it, upon the moor, some slinking away and some, with starting hackles and staring eyes, gazing down the narrow valley before them.
The most of them would by no means advance, but three of them, the boldest, or it may be the most drunken, rode forward down the goyal. Now, it opened into a broad space in which stood two of those great stones, still to be seen there, which were set by certain forgotten peoples in the days of old. The moon was shining bright upon the clearing, and there in the centre lay the unhappy maid where she had fallen, dead of fear and of fatigue. But it was not the sight of her body, nor yet was it that of the body of Hugo Baskerville lying near her, which raised the hair upon the heads of these three dare-devil roysterers, but it was that, standing over Hugo, and plucking at his throat, there stood a foul thing, a great, black beast, shaped like a hound, yet larger than any hound that ever mortal eye has rested upon.
And even as they looked the thing tore the throat out of Hugo Baskerville, on which, as it turned its blazing eyes and dripping jaws upon them, the three shrieked with fear and rode for dear life, still screaming, across the moor. One, it is said, died that very night of what he had seen, and the other twain were but broken men for the rest of their days. If I have set it down it is because that which is clearly known hath less terror than that which is but hinted at and guessed. Nor can it be denied that many of the family have been unhappy in their deaths, which have been sudden, bloody, and mysterious. Yet may we shelter ourselves in the infinite goodness of Providence, which would not forever punish the innocent beyond that third or fourth generation which is threatened in Holy Writ.
To that Providence, my sons, I hereby commend you, and I counsel you by way of caution to forbear from crossing the moor in those dark hours when the powers of evil are exalted. When Dr. Mortimer had finished reading this singular narrative he pushed his spectacles up on his forehead and stared across at Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The latter yawned and tossed the end of his cigarette into the fire. Holmes, we will give you something a little more recent. This is the Devon County Chronicle of May 14th of this year. It is a short account of the facts elicited at the death of Sir Charles Baskerville which occurred a few days before that date. My friend leaned a little forward and his expression became intent. Our visitor readjusted his glasses and began:. Though Sir Charles had resided at Baskerville Hall for a comparatively short period his amiability of character and extreme generosity had won the affection and respect of all who had been brought into contact with him.
In these days of nouveaux riches it is refreshing to find a case where the scion of an old county family which has fallen upon evil days is able to make his own fortune and to bring it back with him to restore the fallen grandeur of his line. Sir Charles, as is well known, made large sums of money in South African speculation. More wise than those who go on until the wheel turns against them, he realised his gains and returned to England with them. It is only two years since he took up his residence at Baskerville Hall, and it is common talk how large were those schemes of reconstruction and improvement which have been interrupted by his death. Being himself childless, it was his openly expressed desire that the whole countryside should, within his own lifetime, profit by his good fortune, and many will have personal reasons for bewailing his untimely end.
His generous donations to local and county charities have been frequently chronicled in these columns. There is no reason whatever to suspect foul play, or to imagine that death could be from any but natural causes. Sir Charles was a widower, and a man who may be said to have been in some ways of an eccentric habit of mind. In spite of his considerable wealth he was simple in his personal tastes, and his indoor servants at Baskerville Hall consisted of a married couple named Barrymore, the husband acting as butler and the wife as housekeeper. James Mortimer, the friend and medical attendant of the deceased, has given evidence to the same effect.
Sir Charles Baskerville was in the habit every night before going to bed of walking down the famous yew alley of Baskerville Hall. The evidence of the Barrymores shows that this had been his custom. On the fourth of May Sir Charles had declared his intention of starting next day for London, and had ordered Barrymore to prepare his luggage. That night he went out as usual for his nocturnal walk, in the course of which he was in the habit of smoking a cigar. He never returned. Halfway down this walk there is a gate which leads out on to the moor.
There were indications that Sir Charles had stood for some little time here. He then proceeded down the alley, and it was at the far end of it that his body was discovered. One Murphy, a gipsy horse-dealer, was on the moor at no great distance at the time, but he appears by his own confession to have been the worse for drink. He declares that he heard cries but is unable to state from what direction they came. Mortimer refused at first to believe that it was indeed his friend and patient who lay before him—it was explained that that is a symptom which is not unusual in cases of dyspnœa and death from cardiac exhaustion. Had the prosaic finding of the coroner not finally put an end to the romantic stories which have been whispered in connection with the affair, it might have been difficult to find a tenant for Baskerville Hall.
It is understood that the next of kin is Mr. The young man when last heard of was in America, and inquiries are being instituted with a view to informing him of his good fortune. Mortimer refolded his paper and replaced it in his pocket. Holmes, in connection with the death of Sir Charles Baskerville. I had observed some newspaper comment at the time, but I was exceedingly preoccupied by that little affair of the Vatican cameos, and in my anxiety to oblige the Pope I lost touch with several interesting English cases. This article, you say, contains all the public facts? I had the further motive that Baskerville Hall, as the paper says, would certainly remain untenanted if anything were done to increase its already rather grim reputation.
For both these reasons I thought that I was justified in telling rather less than I knew, since no practical good could result from it, but with you there is no reason why I should not be perfectly frank. For this reason I saw a good deal of Sir Charles Baskerville. With the exception of Mr. Frankland, of Lafter Hall, and Mr. Stapleton, the naturalist, there are no other men of education within many miles. Sir Charles was a retiring man, but the chance of his illness brought us together, and a community of interests in science kept us so. He had brought back much scientific information from South Africa, and many a charming evening we have spent together discussing the comparative anatomy of the Bushman and the Hottentot.
He had taken this legend which I have read you exceedingly to heart—so much so that, although he would walk in his own grounds, nothing would induce him to go out upon the moor at night. Incredible as it may appear to you, Mr. Holmes, he was honestly convinced that a dreadful fate overhung his family, and certainly the records which he was able to give of his ancestors were not encouraging. The idea of some ghastly presence constantly haunted him, and on more than one occasion he has asked me whether I had on my medical journeys at night ever seen any strange creature or heard the baying of a hound. The latter question he put to me several times, and always with a voice which vibrated with excitement.
He chanced to be at his hall door. I had descended from my gig and was standing in front of him, when I saw his eyes fix themselves over my shoulder and stare past me with an expression of the most dreadful horror. I whisked round and had just time to catch a glimpse of something which I took to be a large black calf passing at the head of the drive. So excited and alarmed was he that I was compelled to go down to the spot where the animal had been and look around for it. It was gone, however, and the incident appeared to make the worst impression upon his mind. I stayed with him all the evening, and it was on that occasion, to explain the emotion which he had shown, that he confided to my keeping that narrative which I read to you when first I came.
I mention this small episode because it assumes some importance in view of the tragedy which followed, but I was convinced at the time that the matter was entirely trivial and that his excitement had no justification. His heart was, I knew, affected, and the constant anxiety in which he lived, however chimerical the cause of it might be, was evidently having a serious effect upon his health. I thought that a few months among the distractions of town would send him back a new man. Stapleton, a mutual friend who was much concerned at his state of health, was of the same opinion. At the last instant came this terrible catastrophe. I checked and corroborated all the facts which were mentioned at the inquest. I followed the footsteps down the yew alley, I saw the spot at the moor-gate where he seemed to have waited, I remarked the change in the shape of the prints after that point, I noted that there were no other footsteps save those of Barrymore on the soft gravel, and finally I carefully examined the body, which had not been touched until my arrival.
Sir Charles lay on his face, his arms out, his fingers dug into the ground, and his features convulsed with some strong emotion to such an extent that I could hardly have sworn to his identity. There was certainly no physical injury of any kind. But one false statement was made by Barrymore at the inquest. He said that there were no traces upon the ground round the body. He did not observe any. But I did—some little distance off, but fresh and clear. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an instant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he answered. I confess at these words a shudder passed through me. Holmes leaned forward in his excitement and his eyes had the hard, dry glitter which shot from them when he was keenly interested. The walk in the centre is about eight feet across. Mortimer—and this is important—the marks which you saw were on the path and not on the grass?
Sir Charles had evidently stood there for five or ten minutes. This is a colleague, Watson, after our own heart. But the marks? I could discern no others. That gravel page upon which I might have read so much has been long ere this smudged by the rain and defaced by the clogs of curious peasants. Oh, Dr. Mortimer, Dr. Mortimer, to think that you should not have called me in! You have indeed much to answer for. Holmes, without disclosing these facts to the world, and I have already given my reasons for not wishing to do so. Holmes, there have come to my ears several incidents which are hard to reconcile with the settled order of Nature. They all agreed that it was a huge creature, luminous, ghastly, and spectral. I have cross-examined these men, one of them a hard-headed countryman, one a farrier, and one a moorland farmer, who all tell the same story of this dreadful apparition, exactly corresponding to the hell-hound of the legend.
I assure you that there is a reign of terror in the district, and that it is a hardy man who will cross the moor at night. Holmes shrugged his shoulders. Yet you must admit that the footmark is material. But now, Dr. Mortimer, tell me this. If you hold these views, why have you come to consult me at all? On the death of Sir Charles we inquired for this young gentleman and found that he had been farming in Canada. From the accounts which have reached us he is an excellent fellow in every way. The only other kinsman whom we have been able to trace was Rodger Baskerville, the youngest of three brothers of whom poor Sir Charles was the elder. The second brother, who died young, is the father of this lad Henry.
The third, Rodger, was the black sheep of the family. He came of the old masterful Baskerville strain and was the very image, they tell me, of the family picture of old Hugo. He made England too hot to hold him, fled to Central America, and died there in of yellow fever. Henry is the last of the Baskervilles. In one hour and five minutes I meet him at Waterloo Station. I have had a wire that he arrived at Southampton this morning. Now, Mr. Holmes, what would you advise me to do with him? And yet, consider that every Baskerville who goes there meets with an evil fate. I feel sure that if Sir Charles could have spoken with me before his death he would have warned me against bringing this, the last of the old race, and the heir to great wealth, to that deadly place.
And yet it cannot be denied that the prosperity of the whole poor, bleak countryside depends upon his presence. All the good work which has been done by Sir Charles will crash to the ground if there is no tenant of the Hall. I fear lest I should be swayed too much by my own obvious interest in the matter, and that is why I bring the case before you and ask for your advice. But surely, if your supernatural theory be correct, it could work the young man evil in London as easily as in Devonshire. A devil with merely local powers like a parish vestry would be too inconceivable a thing. Holmes, than you would probably do if you were brought into personal contact with these things. Your advice, then, as I understand it, is that the young man will be as safe in Devonshire as in London.
He comes in fifty minutes. What would you recommend? Mortimer, I will be much obliged to you if you will call upon me here, and it will be of help to me in my plans for the future if you will bring Sir Henry Baskerville with you. Holmes stopped him at the head of the stair. Holmes returned to his seat with that quiet look of inward satisfaction which meant that he had a congenial task before him. But this is splendid, really unique from some points of view. Thank you. It would be as well if you could make it convenient not to return before evening. Then I should be very glad to compare impressions as to this most interesting problem which has been submitted to us this morning. I knew that seclusion and solitude were very necessary for my friend in those hours of intense mental concentration during which he weighed every particle of evidence, constructed alternative theories, balanced one against the other, and made up his mind as to which points were essential and which immaterial.
I therefore spent the day at my club and did not return to Baker Street until evening. My first impression as I opened the door was that a fire had broken out, for the room was so filled with smoke that the light of the lamp upon the table was blurred by it. As I entered, however, my fears were set at rest, for it was the acrid fumes of strong coarse tobacco which took me by the throat and set me coughing. Through the haze I had a vague vision of Holmes in his dressing-gown coiled up in an armchair with his black clay pipe between his lips.
Several rolls of paper lay around him. He laughed at my bewildered expression. A gentleman goes forth on a showery and miry day. He returns immaculate in the evening with the gloss still on his hat and his boots. He has been a fixture therefore all day. He is not a man with intimate friends. Where, then, could he have been? Is it not obvious? Where do you think that I have been? My body has remained in this armchair and has, I regret to observe, consumed in my absence two large pots of coffee and an incredible amount of tobacco. I flatter myself that I could find my way about. He unrolled one section and held it over his knee. That is Baskerville Hall in the middle. I fancy the yew alley, though not marked under that name, must stretch along this line, with the moor, as you perceive, upon the right of it. This small clump of buildings here is the hamlet of Grimpen, where our friend Dr. Mortimer has his headquarters. Within a radius of five miles there are, as you see, only a very few scattered dwellings.
Here is Lafter Hall, which was mentioned in the narrative. There is a house indicated here which may be the residence of the naturalist—Stapleton, if I remember right, was his name. Here are two moorland farmhouses, High Tor and Foulmire. Then fourteen miles away the great convict prison of Princetown. Between and around these scattered points extends the desolate, lifeless moor. This, then, is the stage upon which tragedy has been played, and upon which we may help to play it again. There are two questions waiting for us at the outset. The one is whether any crime has been committed at all; the second is, what is the crime and how was it committed? Of course, if Dr. But we are bound to exhaust all other hypotheses before falling back upon this one. It is a singular thing, but I find that a concentrated atmosphere helps a concentration of thought. I have not pushed it to the length of getting into a box to think, but that is the logical outcome of my convictions.
Have you turned the case over in your mind? There are points of distinction about it. That change in the footprints, for example. What do you make of that? Why should a man walk on tiptoe down the alley? There are indications that the man was crazed with fear before ever he began to run. If that were so, and it seems most probable, only a man who had lost his wits would have run from the house instead of towards it. Then, again, whom was he waiting for that night, and why was he waiting for him in the yew alley rather than in his own house? We can understand his taking an evening stroll, but the ground was damp and the night inclement. Is it natural that he should stand for five or ten minutes, as Dr.
Mortimer, with more practical sense than I should have given him credit for, deduced from the cigar ash? On the contrary, the evidence is that he avoided the moor. That night he waited there. It was the night before he made his departure for London. The thing takes shape, Watson. It becomes coherent. Might I ask you to hand me my violin, and we will postpone all further thought upon this business until we have had the advantage of meeting Dr. Mortimer and Sir Henry Baskerville in the morning. Our breakfast table was cleared early, and Holmes waited in his dressing-gown for the promised interview.
Our clients were punctual to their appointment, for the clock had just struck ten when Dr. Mortimer was shown up, followed by the young baronet. The latter was a small, alert, dark-eyed man about thirty years of age, very sturdily built, with thick black eyebrows and a strong, pugnacious face. He wore a ruddy-tinted tweed suit and had the weather-beaten appearance of one who has spent most of his time in the open air, and yet there was something in his steady eye and the quiet assurance of his bearing which indicated the gentleman. Sherlock Holmes, that if my friend here had not proposed coming round to you this morning I should have come on my own account. Do I understand you to say that you have yourself had some remarkable experience since you arrived in London? Only a joke, as like as not. It was this letter, if you can call it a letter, which reached me this morning. He laid an envelope upon the table, and we all bent over it.
It was of common quality, greyish in colour. Someone seems to be very deeply interested in your movements. This he opened and spread flat upon the table. Across the middle of it a single sentence had been formed by the expedient of pasting printed words upon it. It ran:. Holmes, what in thunder is the meaning of that, and who it is that takes so much interest in my affairs? You must allow that there is nothing supernatural about this, at any rate? Permit me to give you an extract from it. Mortimer looked at Holmes with an air of professional interest, and Sir Henry Baskerville turned a pair of puzzled dark eyes upon me. Watson here knows more about my methods than you do, but I fear that even he has not quite grasped the significance of this sentence. Mortimer, gazing at my friend in amazement.
How did you do it? The differences are obvious. There is as much difference to my eyes between the leaded bourgeois type of a Times article and the slovenly print of an evening half-penny paper as there could be between your negro and your Esquimau. The detection of types is one of the most elementary branches of knowledge to the special expert in crime, though I confess that once when I was very young I confused the Leeds Mercury with the Western Morning News. But a Times leader is entirely distinctive, and these words could have been taken from nothing else. Have you read anything else in this message, Mr. The address, you observe is printed in rough characters.
But the Times is a paper which is seldom found in any hands but those of the highly educated. We may take it, therefore, that the letter was composed by an educated man who wished to pose as an uneducated one, and his effort to conceal his own writing suggests that that writing might be known, or come to be known, by you. Again, you will observe that the words are not gummed on in an accurate line, but that some are much higher than others. That may point to carelessness or it may point to agitation and hurry upon the part of the cutter. On the whole I incline to the latter view, since the matter was evidently important, and it is unlikely that the composer of such a letter would be careless. If he were in a hurry it opens up the interesting question why he should be in a hurry, since any letter posted up to early morning would reach Sir Henry before he would leave his hotel. Did the composer fear an interruption—and from whom?
It is the scientific use of the imagination, but we have always some material basis on which to start our speculation. Now, you would call it a guess, no doubt, but I am almost certain that this address has been written in a hotel. The pen has spluttered twice in a single word and has run dry three times in a short address, showing that there was very little ink in the bottle. Now, a private pen or ink-bottle is seldom allowed to be in such a state, and the combination of the two must be quite rare. But you know the hotel ink and the hotel pen, where it is rare to get anything else. Yes, I have very little hesitation in saying that could we examine the waste-paper baskets of the hotels around Charing Cross until we found the remains of the mutilated Times leader we could lay our hands straight upon the person who sent this singular message.
He was carefully examining the foolscap, upon which the words were pasted, holding it only an inch or two from his eyes. I think we have drawn as much as we can from this curious letter; and now, Sir Henry, has anything else of interest happened to you since you have been in London? You have nothing else to report to us before we go into this matter? Sir Henry smiled. But I hope that to lose one of your boots is not part of the ordinary routine of life over here. You will find it when you return to the hotel. What is the use of troubling Mr. Holmes with trifles of this kind? You have lost one of your boots, you say? I put them both outside my door last night, and there was only one in the morning. I could get no sense out of the chap who cleans them. The worst of it is that I only bought the pair last night in the Strand, and I have never had them on. That was why I put them out. Mortimer here went round with me.
You see, if I am to be squire down there I must dress the part, and it may be that I have got a little careless in my ways out West. Among other things I bought these brown boots—gave six dollars for them—and had one stolen before ever I had them on my feet. It is time that you kept your promise and gave me a full account of what we are all driving at. Mortimer, I think you could not do better than to tell your story as you told it to us. Thus encouraged, our scientific friend drew his papers from his pocket and presented the whole case as he had done upon the morning before. Sir Henry Baskerville listened with the deepest attention and with an occasional exclamation of surprise. I suppose that fits into its place. I am very much indebted to you, Dr. Mortimer, for introducing me to a problem which presents several interesting alternatives. But the practical point which we now have to decide, Sir Henry, is whether it is or is not advisable for you to go to Baskerville Hall.
There is no devil in hell, Mr. Holmes, and there is no man upon earth who can prevent me from going to the home of my own people, and you may take that to be my final answer. It was evident that the fiery temper of the Baskervilles was not extinct in this their last representative. I should like to have a quiet hour by myself to make up my mind. Now, look here, Mr. Suppose you and your friend, Dr. Watson, come round and lunch with us at two. We heard the steps of our visitors descend the stair and the bang of the front door. In an instant Holmes had changed from the languid dreamer to the man of action. Not a moment to lose!
We hurried together down the stairs and into the street. Mortimer and Baskerville were still visible about two hundred yards ahead of us in the direction of Oxford Street. I am perfectly satisfied with your company if you will tolerate mine. Our friends are wise, for it is certainly a very fine morning for a walk. He quickened his pace until we had decreased the distance which divided us by about half. Then, still keeping a hundred yards behind, we followed into Oxford Street and so down Regent Street. Once our friends stopped and stared into a shop window, upon which Holmes did the same.
An instant afterwards he gave a little cry of satisfaction, and, following the direction of his eager eyes, I saw that a hansom cab with a man inside which had halted on the other side of the street was now proceeding slowly onward again. Come along! At that instant I was aware of a bushy black beard and a pair of piercing eyes turned upon us through the side window of the cab. Instantly the trapdoor at the top flew up, something was screamed to the driver, and the cab flew madly off down Regent Street. Holmes looked eagerly round for another, but no empty one was in sight. Then he dashed in wild pursuit amid the stream of the traffic, but the start was too great, and already the cab was out of sight.
Watson, Watson, if you are an honest man you will record this also and set it against my successes! How else could it be known so quickly that it was the Northumberland Hotel which he had chosen? If they had followed him the first day I argued that they would follow him also the second. You may have observed that I twice strolled over to the window while Dr. Mortimer was reading his legend. We are dealing with a clever man, Watson. This matter cuts very deep, and though I have not finally made up my mind whether it is a benevolent or a malevolent agency which is in touch with us, I am conscious always of power and design. When our friends left I at once followed them in the hopes of marking down their invisible attendant. So wily was he that he had not trusted himself upon foot, but he had availed himself of a cab so that he could loiter behind or dash past them and so escape their notice.
His method had the additional advantage that if they were to take a cab he was all ready to follow them. It has, however, one obvious disadvantage. But that is no use to us for the moment. I should then at my leisure have hired a second cab and followed the first at a respectful distance, or, better still, have driven to the Northumberland Hotel and waited there. When our unknown had followed Baskerville home we should have had the opportunity of playing his own game upon himself and seeing where he made for. As it is, by an indiscreet eagerness, which was taken advantage of with extraordinary quickness and energy by our opponent, we have betrayed ourselves and lost our man. We had been sauntering slowly down Regent Street during this conversation, and Dr. Mortimer, with his companion, had long vanished in front of us. We must see what further cards we have in our hands and play them with decision. A clever man upon so delicate an errand has no use for a beard save to conceal his features.
Come in here, Watson! He turned into one of the district messenger offices, where he was warmly greeted by the manager. I have some recollection, Wilson, that you had among your boys a lad named Cartwright, who showed some ability during the investigation. And I should be glad to have change of this five-pound note. A lad of fourteen, with a bright, keen face, had obeyed the summons of the manager. He stood now gazing with great reverence at the famous detective. Now, Cartwright, there are the names of twenty-three hotels here, all in the immediate neighbourhood of Charing Cross. Do you see? Here are twenty-three shillings. You will say that an important telegram has miscarried and that you are looking for it.
You understand? Here is a copy of the Times. It is this page. You could easily recognize it, could you not? You will then learn in possibly twenty cases out of the twenty-three that the waste of the day before has been burned or removed. In the three other cases you will be shown a heap of paper and you will look for this page of the Times among it. The odds are enormously against your finding it. There are ten shillings over in case of emergencies. Let me have a report by wire at Baker Street before evening. And now, Watson, it only remains for us to find out by wire the identity of the cabman, No.
Sherlock Holmes had, in a very remarkable degree, the power of detaching his mind at will. For two hours the strange business in which we had been involved appeared to be forgotten, and he was entirely absorbed in the pictures of the modern Belgian masters. He would talk of nothing but art, of which he had the crudest ideas, from our leaving the gallery until we found ourselves at the Northumberland Hotel. The book showed that two names had been added after that of Baskerville. One was Theophilus Johnson and family, of Newcastle; the other Mrs. Oldmore and maid, of High Lodge, Alton. Johnson, the coal-owner, a very active gentleman, not older than yourself. he has used this hotel for many years, and he is very well known to us.
Oldmore, too; I seem to remember the name. Excuse my curiosity, but often in calling upon one friend one finds another. Her husband was once mayor of Gloucester. She always comes to us when she is in town. That means that while they are, as we have seen, very anxious to watch him, they are equally anxious that he should not see them. Now, this is a most suggestive fact. As we came round the top of the stairs we had run up against Sir Henry Baskerville himself. His face was flushed with anger, and he held an old and dusty boot in one of his hands. So furious was he that he was hardly articulate, and when he did speak it was in a much broader and more Western dialect than any which we had heard from him in the morning.
I can take a joke with the best, Mr. I only had three pairs in the world—the new brown, the old black, and the patent leathers, which I am wearing. Last night they took one of my brown ones, and today they have sneaked one of the black. Well, have you got it? Well, well, Mr. It seems the very maddest, queerest thing that ever happened to me. This case of yours is very complex, Sir Henry. But we hold several threads in our hands, and the odds are that one or other of them guides us to the truth. We may waste time in following the wrong one, but sooner or later we must come upon the right.
We had a pleasant luncheon in which little was said of the business which had brought us together. It was in the private sitting-room to which we afterwards repaired that Holmes asked Baskerville what were his intentions. I have ample evidence that you are being dogged in London, and amid the millions of this great city it is difficult to discover who these people are or what their object can be. If their intentions are evil they might do you a mischief, and we should be powerless to prevent it. You did not know, Dr. Mortimer, that you were followed this morning from my house? Have you among your neighbours or acquaintances on Dartmoor any man with a black, full beard? Address to Mr. Barrymore, Baskerville Hall.
What is the nearest telegraph-office? Barrymore to be delivered into his own hand. If absent, please return wire to Sir Henry Baskerville, Northumberland Hotel. Mortimer, who is this Barrymore, anyhow? They have looked after the Hall for four generations now. So far as I know, he and his wife are as respectable a couple as any in the county. The residue all went to Sir Henry. Holmes raised his eyebrows in surprise. The total value of the estate was close on to a million. It is a stake for which a man might well play a desperate game. And one more question, Dr. Supposing that anything happened to our young friend here—you will forgive the unpleasant hypothesis! James Desmond is an elderly clergyman in Westmoreland. These details are all of great interest. Have you met Mr.
James Desmond? He is a man of venerable appearance and of saintly life. I remember that he refused to accept any settlement from Sir Charles, though he pressed it upon him. He would also be the heir to the money unless it were willed otherwise by the present owner, who can, of course, do what he likes with it. Holmes, I have not. But in any case I feel that the money should go with the title and estate. How is the owner going to restore the glories of the Baskervilles if he has not money enough to keep up the property? House, land, and dollars must go together. Well, Sir Henry, I am of one mind with you as to the advisability of your going down to Devonshire without delay.
There is only one provision which I must make. You certainly must not go alone. Mortimer has his practice to attend to, and his house is miles away from yours. With all the goodwill in the world he may be unable to help you. No, Sir Henry, you must take with you someone, a trusty man, who will be always by your side. At the present instant one of the most revered names in England is being besmirched by a blackmailer, and only I can stop a disastrous scandal. You will see how impossible it is for me to go to Dartmoor. Holmes laid his hand upon my arm. No one can say so more confidently than I. The proposition took me completely by surprise, but before I had time to answer, Baskerville seized me by the hand and wrung it heartily.
The promise of adventure had always a fascination for me, and I was complimented by the words of Holmes and by the eagerness with which the baronet hailed me as a companion. I suppose that by Saturday all might be ready? We had risen to depart when Baskerville gave a cry of triumph, and diving into one of the corners of the room he drew a brown boot from under a cabinet. Mortimer remarked. The German was sent for but professed to know nothing of the matter, nor could any inquiry clear it up. Another item had been added to that constant and apparently purposeless series of small mysteries which had succeeded each other so rapidly.
Holmes sat in silence in the cab as we drove back to Baker Street, and I knew from his drawn brows and keen face that his mind, like my own, was busy in endeavouring to frame some scheme into which all these strange and apparently disconnected episodes could be fitted. All afternoon and late into the evening he sat lost in tobacco and thought. Visited twenty-three hotels as directed, but sorry to report unable to trace cut sheet of Times. There is nothing more stimulating than a case where everything goes against you. We must cast round for another scent. I have wired to get his name and address from the Official Registry. I should not be surprised if this were an answer to my question. The ring at the bell proved to be something even more satisfactory than an answer, however, for the door opened and a rough-looking fellow entered who was evidently the man himself.
I came here straight from the Yard to ask you to your face what you had against me. The man looked surprised and a little embarrassed. You say that your fare told you that he was a detective? Holmes cast a swift glance of triumph at me. That was imprudent. What was the name that he mentioned? For an instant he sat in silent amazement. Then he burst into a hearty laugh. He got home upon me very prettily that time. So his name was Sherlock Holmes, was it? He said that he was a detective, and he offered me two guineas if I would do exactly what he wanted all day and ask no questions. I was glad enough to agree. First we drove down to the Northumberland Hotel and waited there until two gentlemen came out and took a cab from the rank. We followed their cab until it pulled up somewhere near here.
We pulled up halfway down the street and waited an hour and a half. Then my gentleman threw up the trap, and he cried that I should drive right away to Waterloo Station as hard as I could go. I whipped up the mare and we were there under the ten minutes. Then he paid up his two guineas, like a good one, and away he went into the station. The cabman scratched his head. He was dressed like a toff, and he had a black beard, cut square at the end, and a pale face. John Clayton departed chuckling, and Holmes turned to me with a shrug of his shoulders and a rueful smile.
He knew our number, knew that Sir Henry Baskerville had consulted me, spotted who I was in Regent Street, conjectured that I had got the number of the cab and would lay my hands on the driver, and so sent back this audacious message. I tell you, Watson, this time we have got a foeman who is worthy of our steel. I can only wish you better luck in Devonshire. Yes, my dear fellow, you may laugh, but I give you my word that I shall be very glad to have you back safe and sound in Baker Street once more. Sir Henry Baskerville and Dr. Mortimer were ready upon the appointed day, and we started as arranged for Devonshire.
If you don't see it, please check your spam folder. Sometimes it can end up there. By signing up you agree to our terms and privacy policy. Subscribe now. Sign up for your FREE 7-day trial. Already have an account? Log in. Your Email. Purchasing SparkNotes PLUS for a group? Get Annual Plans at a discount when you buy 2 or more! Want or more? Contact us for a customized plan. Your Plan. SparkNotes Plus. You'll be billed after your free trial ends. Not Applicable. Renews March 27, March 20, Discounts applied to next billing.
This is not a valid promo code. Discount Code one code per order. The free trial period is the first 7 days of your subscription. You may cancel your subscription on your Subscription and Billing page or contact Customer Support at custserv bn. Your subscription will continue automatically once the free trial period is over. Free trial is available to new customers only. Your group members can use the joining link below to redeem their group membership. You'll also receive an email with the link. Members will be prompted to log in or create an account to redeem their group membership. Hound of the Baskervilles is a novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that was first published in Read our full plot summary and analysis of Hound of the Baskervilles , scene by scene break-downs, and more. See a complete list of the characters in Hound of the Baskervilles and in-depth analyses of Sherlock Holmes, Dr.
Watson, and Mr. Jack Stapleton. Here's where you'll find analysis of the literary devices in Hound of the Baskervilles , from the major themes to motifs, symbols, and more. Find the quotes you need to support your essay, or refresh your memory of the book by reading these key quotes. Test your knowledge of Hound of the Baskervilles with quizzes about every section, major characters, themes, symbols, and more. Go further in your study of Hound of the Baskervilles with background information, movie adaptations, and links to the best resources around the web.
Search all of SparkNotes Search Suggestions Use up and down arrows to review and enter to select. A Christmas Carol Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Please wait while we process your payment. Send password reset email. Your password reset email should arrive shortly. Something went wrong If you don't see it, please check your spam folder. Log in Sign up Sparknotes. Password Your password must: Be between characters. Contain at least one capital letter. Contain at least one number. Be different from your email address. Log in Forgot Password. Create Your Account. First Name. Last Name. Sign up for the free PLUS newsletter. Choose Your Plan. Continue to Payment. Payment Details. Card Number. Security Code. Country United States Australia Canada Hong Kong India South Africa United States My country is not listed. We're sorry, SparkNotes Plus isn't available in your country. Name on Card. Billing Address. Save Card and Continue. Payment Summary.
Start 7-Day Free Trial. Your Free Trial Starts Now! Go to My PLUS Dashboard Launch SparkNotes PLUS. Thank You! Redeem a Code Now Manage Your Purchase. Start free trial of SparkNotes Plus. My Account Icon My Account white. My PLUS Activity. Notes Bookmarks Test Prep PLUS No Fear Translations Mastery Quizzes Flashcards Infographics No Fear Graphic Novels. No Fear Literature Translations Literature Study Guides Glossary of Literary Terms How to Write Literary Analysis. Biography Biology Chemistry Computer Science Drama Economics Film Health History Math Philosophy Physics Poetry Psychology Short Stories Sociology US Government and Politics. Test Prep Lessons AP® English Literature AP® English Language. SparkTeach Teacher's Handbook. Your PLUS subscription has expired. Renew your subscription to regain access to all of our exclusive, ad-free study tools. Renew your subscription. Looking for exclusive, AD-FREE study tools?
Look no further! Start your 7-day FREE trial now! Summary Read our full plot summary and analysis of Hound of the Baskervilles , scene by scene break-downs, and more. Sherlock Holmes Chapter II: The Curse of the Baskervilles Chapters III—IV Chapters V—VI Chapter VII: The Stapletons of Merripit House Chapter VIII—IX Chapters X—XI Chapters XII—XIII Chapters XIV—XV. Full Book Full Book Summary Key Facts. Characters See a complete list of the characters in Hound of the Baskervilles and in-depth analyses of Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Character List Sherlock Holmes Dr. Watson Mr. Literary Devices Here's where you'll find analysis of the literary devices in Hound of the Baskervilles , from the major themes to motifs, symbols, and more. Themes Motifs. Quotes Find the quotes you need to support your essay, or refresh your memory of the book by reading these key quotes.
Important Quotes Explained. By Theme The Supernatural Class Isolation By Section Chapter I: Mr. Sherlock Holmes Chapter II: The Curse of the Baskervilles Chapters III—IV Chapters V—VI Chapter VII: The Stapletons of Merripit House Chapters VIII—IX Chapters X—XI Chapters XII—XIII Chapters XIV—XV By Character Sherlock Holmes Dr. Jack Stapleton Miss Stapleton Sir Henry Baskerville. Quick Quizzes Test your knowledge of Hound of the Baskervilles with quizzes about every section, major characters, themes, symbols, and more. Book Full Book Quiz Chapter 1: Mr. Sherlock Holmes Chapter 2: The Curse of the Baskervilles Chapters Chapters Chapter 7: The Stapletons of Merripit House Chapter Chapters Chapters Chapters More Context Plot Overview Character List Analysis of Major Characters Themes, Motifs, and Symbols.
The Hound of the Baskervilles PDF Free Download,Download This eBook
WebJan 10, · The Hound of the Baskervilles PDF is one of the most famous and well-loved works of detective fiction ever written. It was published in by Arthur Conan WebJun 27, · Title: The Hound of the Baskervilles Author: Arthur Conan Doyle Release Date: October, [eBook #] [Most recently updated: June 27, ] Language: WebSep 19, · Download The Hound of the Baskervilles free in PDF & EPUB format. Download Arthur Conan Doyle.'s The Hound of the Baskervilles for your kindle, tablet, WebThe Hound of the Baskervilles - PDF Free Download Home Add Document Sign In Register The Hound of the Baskervilles Home The Hound of the Baskervilles WebHound of the Baskervilles is a novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that was first published in Summary Read our full plot summary and analysis of Hound of the Baskervilles, WebOxford Bookworms Library: The Hound of the Baskervilles Level 4: Word Vocabulary Third Edition Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Retold by Patrick Nobes Dartmoor. A wild, wet ... read more
It was the night before he made his departure for London. In spite of his considerable wealth he was simple in his personal tastes, and his indoor servants at Baskerville Hall consisted of a married couple named Barrymore, the husband acting as butler and the wife as housekeeper. Reading for pleasure: appealing to learners, not readers - Reading expert and teacher trainer, Verissimo Toste, tells us about the benefits of extensive reading and how to get your students to do it. His generous donations to local and county charities have been frequently chronicled in these columns. Then with an expression of interest he laid down his cigarette, and carrying the cane to the window, he looked over it again with a convex lens. The Adventure of the Dying Detective Arthur Conan Doyle.
Top Kodi Archive and Support File Vintage Software APK MS-DOS CD-ROM Software CD-ROM Software Library Software Sites Tucows Software Library Shareware CD-ROMs Software Capsules Compilation CD-ROM Images ZX Spectrum DOOM Level CD. He had taken this legend which I have read you exceedingly to heart—so much so that, although he would walk in his own grounds, nothing would induce him to go out upon the moor at night. Mortimer, I think you could not do better than to tell your story as you told it to us. They all agreed that it was a huge creature, luminous, ghastly, and spectral. Some people without possessing genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it. Yes, my hounds of baskerville pdf fellow, you may laugh, hounds of baskerville pdf, but I give you my word that I shall be very glad to have you back safe and sound in Baker Street once more.
ليست هناك تعليقات:
إرسال تعليق