Chapter 15 A Retrospection

It was the end of November and Holmes and I sat, upon a raw and

foggy night, on either side of a blazing fire in our sitting-room

in Baker Street. Since the tragic upshot of our visit to

Devonshire he had been engaged in two affairs of the utmost

importance, in the first of which he had exposed the atrocious

conduct of Colonel Upwood in connection with the famous card

scandal of the Nonpareil Club, while in the second he had

defended the unfortunate Mme. Montpensier from the charge of

murder which hung over her in connection with the death of her

step-daughter, Mlle. Carere, the young lady who, as it will be

remembered, was found six months later alive and married in New

York. My friend was in excellent spirits over the success which

had attended a succession of difficult and important cases, so

that I was able to induce him to discuss the details of the

Baskerville mystery. I had waited patiently for the opportunity,

for I was aware that he would never permit cases to overlap, and

that his clear and logical mind would not be drawn from its

present work to dwell upon memories of the past. Sir Henry and

Dr. Mortimer were, however, in London, on their way to that long

voyage which had been recommended for the restoration of his

shattered nerves. They had called upon us that very afternoon, so

that it was natural that the subject should come up for

discussion.

"The whole course of events," said Holmes, "from the point of

view of the man who called himself Stapleton was simple and

direct, although to us, who had no means in the beginning of

knowing the motives of his actions and could only learn part of

the facts, it all appeared exceedingly complex. I have had the

advantage of two conversations with Mrs. Stapleton, and the case

has now been so entirely cleared up that I am not aware that

there is anything which has remained a secret to us. You will

find a few notes upon the matter under the heading B in my

indexed list of cases."

"Perhaps you would kindly give me a sketch of the course of

events from memory."

"Certainly, though I cannot guarantee that I carry all the facts

in my mind. Intense mental concentration has a curious way of

blotting out what has passed. The barrister who has his case at

his fingers' end, and is able to argue with an expert upon his

own subject finds that a week or two of the courts will drive it

all out of his head once more. So each of my cases displaces the

last, and Mlle. Carere has blurred my recollection of Baskerville

Hall. To-morrow some other little problem may be submitted to my

notice which will in turn dispossess the fair French lady and the

infamous Upwood. So far as the case of the Hound goes, however, I

will give you the course of events as nearly as I can, and you

will suggest anything which I may have forgotten.

"My inquiries show beyond all question that the family portrait

did not lie, and that this fellow was indeed a Baskerville. He

was a son of that Rodger Baskerville, the younger brother of Sir

Charles, who fled with a sinister reputation to South America,

where he was said to have died unmarried. He did, as a matter of

fact, marry, and had one child, this fellow, whose real name is

the same as his father's. He married Beryl Garcia, one of the

beauties of Costa Rica, and, having purloined a considerable sum

of public money, he changed his name to Vandeleur and fled to

England, where he established a school in the east of Yorkshire.

His reason for attempting this special line of business was that

he had struck up an acquaintance with a consumptive tutor upon

the voyage home, and that he had used this man's ability to make

the undertaking a success. Fraser, the tutor, died however, and

the school which had begun well sank from disrepute into infamy.

The Vandeleurs found it convenient to change their name to

Stapleton, and he brought the remains of his fortune, his schemes

for the future, and his taste for entomology to the south of

England. I learned at the British Museum that he was a recognized

authority upon the subject, and that the name of Vandeleur has

been permanently attached to a certain moth which he had, in his

Yorkshire days, been the first to describe.

"We now come to that portion of his life which has proved to be

of such intense interest to us. The fellow had evidently made

inquiry and found that only two lives intervened between him and

a valuable estate. When he went to Devonshire his plans were, I

believe, exceedingly hazy, but that he meant mischief from the

first is evident from the way in which he took his wife with him

in the character of his sister. The idea of using her as a decoy

was clearly already in his mind, though he may not have been

certain how the details of his plot were to be arranged. He meant

in the end to have the estate, and he was ready to use any tool

or run any risk for that end. His first act was to establish

himself as near to his ancestral home as he could, and his second

was to cultivate a friendship with Sir Charles Baskerville and

with the neighbours.

"The baronet himself told him about the family hound, and so

prepared the way for his own death. Stapleton, as I will continue

to call him, knew that the old man's heart was weak and that a

shock would kill him. So much he had learned from Dr. Mortimer.

He had heard also that Sir Charles was superstitious and had

taken this grim legend very seriously. His ingenious mind

instantly suggested a way by which the baronet could be done to

death, and yet it would be hardly possible to bring home the

guilt to the real murderer.

"Having conceived the idea he proceeded to carry it out with

considerable finesse. An ordinary schemer would have been content

to work with a savage hound. The use of artificial means to make

the creature diabolical was a flash of genius upon his part. The

dog he bought in London from Ross and Mangles, the dealers in

Fulham Road. It was the strongest and most savage in their

possession. He brought it down by the North Devon line and walked

a great distance over the moor so as to get it home without

exciting any remarks. He had already on his insect hunts learned

to penetrate the Grimpen Mire, and so had found a safe

hiding-place for the creature. Here he kennelled it and waited

his chance.

"But it was some time coming. The old gentleman could not be

decoyed outside of his grounds at night. Several times Stapleton

lurked about with his hound, but without avail. It was during

these fruitless quests that he, or rather his ally, was seen by

peasants, and that the legend of the demon dog received a new

confirmation. He had hoped that his wife might lure Sir Charles

to his ruin, but here she proved unexpectedly independent. She

would not endeavour to entangle the old gentleman in a

sentimental attachment which might deliver him over to his enemy.

Threats and even, I am sorry to say, blows refused to move her.

She would have nothing to do with it, and for a time Stapleton

was at a deadlock.

"He found a way out of his difficulties through the chance that

Sir Charles, who had conceived a friendship for him, made him the

minister of his charity in the case of this unfortunate woman,

Mrs. Laura Lyons. By representing himself as a single man he

acquired complete influence over her, and he gave her to

understand that in the event of her obtaining a divorce from her

husband he would marry her. His plans were suddenly brought to a

head by his knowledge that Sir Charles was about to leave the

Hall on the advice of Dr. Mortimer, with whose opinion he himself

pretended to coincide. He must act at once, or his victim might

get beyond his power. He therefore put pressure upon Mrs. Lyons

to write this letter, imploring the old man to give her an

interview on the evening before his departure for London. He

then, by a specious argument, prevented her from going, and so

had the chance for which he had waited.

"Driving back in the evening from Coombe Tracey he was in time to

get his hound, to treat it with his infernal paint, and to bring

the beast round to the gate at which he had reason to expect that

he would find the old gentleman waiting. The dog, incited by its

master, sprang over the wicket-gate and pursued the unfortunate

baronet, who fled screaming down the Yew Alley. In that gloomy

tunnel it must indeed have been a dreadful sight to see that huge

black creature, with its flaming jaws and blazing eyes, bounding

after its victim. He fell dead at the end of the alley from heart

disease and terror. The hound had kept upon the grassy border

while the baronet had run down the path, so that no track but the

man's was visible. On seeing him lying still the creature had

probably approached to sniff at him, but finding him dead had

turned away again. It was then that it left the print which was

actually observed by Dr. Mortimer. The hound was called off and

hurried away to its lair in the Grimpen Mire, and a mystery was

left which puzzled the authorities, alarmed the country-side, and

finally brought the case within the scope of our observation.

"So much for the death of Sir Charles Baskerville. You perceive

the devilish cunning of it, for really it would be almost

impossible to make a case against the real murderer. His only

accomplice was one who could never give him away, and the

grotesque, inconceivable nature of the device only served to make

it more effective. Both of the women concerned in the case, Mrs.

Stapleton and Mrs. Laura Lyons, were left with a strong suspicion

against Stapleton. Mrs. Stapleton knew that he had designs upon

the old man, and also of the existence of the hound. Mrs. Lyons

knew neither of these things, but had been impressed by the death

occurring at the time of an uncancelled appointment which was

only known to him. However, both of them were under his

influence, and he had nothing to fear from them. The first half

of his task was successfully accomplished but the more difficult

still remained.

"It is possible that Stapleton did not know of the existence of

an heir in Canada. In any case he would very soon learn it from

his friend Dr. Mortimer, and he was told by the latter all

details about the arrival of Henry Baskerville. Stapleton's first

idea was that this young stranger from Canada might possibly be

done to death in London without coming down to Devonshire at all.

He distrusted his wife ever since she had refused to help him in

laying a trap for the old man, and he dared not leave her long

out of his sight for fear he should lose his influence over her.

It was for this reason that he took her to London with him. They

lodged, I find, at the Mexborough Private Hotel, in Craven

Street, which was actually one of those called upon by my agent

in search of evidence. Here he kept his wife imprisoned in her

room while he, disguised in a beard, followed Dr. Mortimer to

Baker Street and afterwards to the station and to the

Northumberland Hotel. His wife had some inkling of his plans; but

she had such a fear of her husband--a fear founded upon brutal

ill-treatment--that she dare not write to warn the man whom she

knew to be in danger. If the letter should fall into Stapleton's

hands her own life would not be safe. Eventually, as we know, she

adopted the expedient of cutting out the words which would form

the message, and addressing the letter in a disguised hand. It

reached the baronet, and gave him the first warning of his

danger.

"It was very essential for Stapleton to get some article of Sir

Henry's attire so that, in case he was driven to use the dog, he

might always have the means of setting him upon his track. With

characteristic promptness and audacity he set about this at once,

and we cannot doubt that the boots or chamber-maid of the hotel

was well bribed to help him in his design. By chance, however,

the first boot which was procured for him was a new one and,

therefore, useless for his purpose. He then had it returned and

obtained another--a most instructive incident, since it proved

conclusively to my mind that we were dealing with a real hound,

as no other supposition could explain this anxiety to obtain an

old boot and this indifference to a new one. The more outre and

grotesque an incident is the more carefully it deserves to be

examined, and the very point which appears to complicate a case

is, when duly considered and scientifically handled, the one

which is most likely to elucidate it.

"Then we had the visit from our friends next morning, shadowed

always by Stapleton in the cab. From his knowledge of our rooms

and of my appearance, as well as from his general conduct, I am

inclined to think that Stapleton's career of crime has been by no

means limited to this single Baskerville affair. It is suggestive

that during the last three years there have been four

considerable burglaries in the West Country, for none of which

was any criminal ever arrested. The last of these, at Folkestone

Court, in May, was remarkable for the cold-blooded pistoling of

the page, who surprised the masked and solitary burglar. I cannot

doubt that Stapleton recruited his waning resources in this

fashion, and that for years he has been a desperate and dangerous

man.

"We had an example of his readiness of resource that morning when

he got away from us so successfully, and also of his audacity in

sending back my own name to me through the cabman. From that

moment he understood that I had taken over the case in London,

and that therefore there was no chance for him there. He returned

to Dartmoor and awaited the arrival of the baronet."

"One moment!" said I. "You have, no doubt, described the sequence

of events correctly, but there is one point which you have left

unexplained. What became of the hound when its master was in

London?"

"I have given some attention to this matter and it is undoubtedly

of importance. There can be no question that Stapleton had a

confidant, though it is unlikely that he ever placed himself in

his power by sharing all his plans with him. There was an old

manservant at Merripit House, whose name was Anthony. His

connection with the Stapletons can be traced for several years,

as far back as the schoolmastering days, so that he must have

been aware that his master and mistress were really husband and

wife. This man has disappeared and has escaped from the country.

It is suggestive that Anthony is not a common name in England,

while Antonio is so in all Spanish or Spanish-American countries.

The man, like Mrs. Stapleton herself, spoke good English, but

with a curious lisping accent. I have myself seen this old man

cross the Grimpen Mire by the path which Stapleton had marked

out. It is very probable, therefore, that in the absence of his

master it was he who cared for the hound, though he may never

have known the purpose for which the beast was used.

"The Stapletons then went down to Devonshire, whither they were

soon followed by Sir Henry and you. One word now as to how I

stood myself at that time. It may possibly recur to your memory

that when I examined the paper upon which the printed words were

fastened I made a close inspection for the water-mark. In doing

so I held it within a few inches of my eyes, and was conscious of

a faint smell of the scent known as white jessamine. There are

seventy-five perfumes, which it is very necessary that a criminal

expert should be able to distinguish from each other, and cases

have more than once within my own experience depended upon their

prompt recognition. The scent suggested the presence of a lady,

and already my thoughts began to turn towards the Stapletons.

Thus I had made certain of the hound, and had guessed at the

criminal before ever we went to the west country.

"It was my game to watch Stapleton. It was evident, however, that

I could not do this if I were with you, since he would be keenly

on his guard. I deceived everybody, therefore, yourself included,

and I came down secretly when I was supposed to be in London. My

hardships were not so great as you imagined, though such trifling

details must never interfere with the investigation of a case. I

stayed for the most part at Coombe Tracey, and only used the hut

upon the moor when it was necessary to be near the scene of

action. Cartwright had come down with me, and in his disguise as

a country boy he was of great assistance to me. I was dependent

upon him for food and clean linen. When I was watching Stapleton,

Cartwright was frequently watching you, so that I was able to

keep my hand upon all the strings.

"I have already told you that your reports reached me rapidly,

being forwarded instantly from Baker Street to Coombe Tracey.

They were of great service to me, and especially that one

incidentally truthful piece of biography of Stapleton's. I was

able to establish the identity of the man and the woman and knew

at last exactly how I stood. The case had been considerably

complicated through the incident of the escaped convict and the

relations between him and the Barrymores. This also you cleared

up in a very effective way, though I had already come to the same

conclusions from my own observations.

"By the time that you discovered me upon the moor I had a

complete knowledge of the whole business, but I had not a case

which could go to a jury. Even Stapleton's attempt upon Sir Henry

that night which ended in the death of the unfortunate convict

did not help us much in proving murder against our man. There

seemed to be no alternative but to catch him red-handed, and to

do so we had to use Sir Henry, alone and apparently unprotected,

as a bait. We did so, and at the cost of a severe shock to our

client we succeeded in completing our case and driving Stapleton

to his destruction. That Sir Henry should have been exposed to

this is, I must confess, a reproach to my management of the case,

but we had no means of foreseeing the terrible and paralyzing

spectacle which the beast presented, nor could we predict the fog

which enabled him to burst upon us at such short notice. We

succeeded in our object at a cost which both the specialist and

Dr. Mortimer assure me will be a temporary one. A long journey

may enable our friend to recover not only from his shattered

nerves but also from his wounded feelings. His love for the lady

was deep and sincere, and to him the saddest part of all this

black business was that he should have been deceived by her.

"It only remains to indicate the part which she had played

throughout. There can be no doubt that Stapleton exercised an

influence over her which may have been love or may have been

fear, or very possibly both, since they are by no means

incompatible emotions. It was, at least, absolutely effective. At

his command she consented to pass as his sister, though he found

the limits of his power over her when he endeavoured to make her

the direct accessory to murder. She was ready to warn Sir Henry

so far as she could without implicating her husband, and again

and again she tried to do so. Stapleton himself seems to have

been capable of jealousy, and when he saw the baronet paying

court to the lady, even though it was part of his own plan, still

he could not help interrupting with a passionate outburst which

revealed the fiery soul which his self-contained manner so

cleverly concealed. By encouraging the intimacy he made it

certain that Sir Henry would frequently come to Merripit House

and that he would sooner or later get the opportunity which he

desired. On the day of the crisis, however, his wife turned

suddenly against him. She had learned something of the death of

the convict, and she knew that the hound was being kept in the

out-house on the evening that Sir Henry was coming to dinner. She

taxed her husband with his intended crime, and a furious scene

followed, in which he showed her for the first time that she had

a rival in his love. Her fidelity turned in an instant to bitter

hatred and he saw that she would betray him. He tied her up,

therefore, that she might have no chance of warning Sir Henry,

and he hoped, no doubt, that when the whole countryside put down

the baronet's death to the curse of his family, as they certainly

would do, he could win his wife back to accept an accomplished

fact and to keep silent upon what she knew. In this I fancy that

in any case he made a miscalculation, and that, if we had not

been there, his doom would none the less have been sealed. A

woman of Spanish blood does not condone such an injury so

lightly. And now, my dear Watson, without referring to my notes,

I cannot give you a more detailed account of this curious case. I

do not know that anything essential has been left unexplained."

"He could not hope to frighten Sir Henry to death as he had done

the old uncle with his bogie hound."

"The beast was savage and half-starved. If its appearance did not

frighten its victim to death, at least it would paralyze the

resistance which might be offered."

"No doubt. There only remains one difficulty. If Stapleton came

into the succession, how could he explain the fact that he, the

heir, had been living unannounced under another name so close to

the property? How could he claim it without causing suspicion and

inquiry?"

"It is a formidable difficulty, and I fear that you ask too much

when you expect me to solve it. The past and the present are

within the field of my inquiry, but what a man may do in the

future is a hard question to answer. Mrs. Stapleton has heard her

husband discuss the problem on several occasions. There were

three possible courses. He might claim the property from South

America, establish his identity before the British authorities

there and so obtain the fortune without ever coming to England at

all; or he might adopt an elaborate disguise during the short

time that he need be in London; or, again, he might furnish an

accomplice with the proofs and papers, putting him in as heir,

and retaining a claim upon some proportion of his income. We

cannot doubt from what we know of him that he would have found

some way out of the difficulty. And now, my dear Watson, we have

had some weeks of severe work, and for one evening, I think, we

may turn our thoughts into more pleasant channels. I have a box

for 'Les Huguenots.' Have you heard the De Reszkes? Might I

trouble you then to be ready in half an hour, and we can stop at

Marcini's for a little dinner on the way?"

THE END.
'The Hound of the Baskervilles', by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

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