CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Too Late

For a moment or two I could not move. I knew that voice!

"Holmes!" I cried. "Holmes!"

I ran outside, and there was Holmes. He was sitting on a stone, and his gray eyes were dancing with amusement. He looked a little thin, but bright and wide-awake. His skin was brown from the wind and the sun, but his clothes were clean and neat. He certainly did not look like a man who had been living in the middle of a wild, cold moor!

"I have never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life!" I said.

"I am glad, too, and also surprised!" Holmes said, as he shook me warmly by the hand. "How did you find me?"

I told him everything Frankland had told me, and how I had seen the boy and followed him.

Holmes went into the hut, and looked at the food, and at the note with it. "I guess that you have been to see Mrs Laura Lyons," he said, and when I told him that he was right, he went on: "When we put together everything that we know, I think we will know almost everything about the mystery. Then we will be able to solve it!"

"But how did you get here?" I asked him. "And what have you been doing? I thought you had to finish your case in London."

"That is what I wanted you to think," he said.

"Holmes, surely you trust me more than that?" I said. I was a little upset because he had not told me his plans.

"I am sorry if it seems I have tricked you, my dear Watson. But I did not want our enemy to know I was here. But, I also wanted to watch you and Sir Henry, to make sure that you were safe. If you knew that I was here, our enemy would also find out. You are a kind person—too kind to leave me alone out here in bad weather. Our enemy would follow you if he saw you coming out here with food or important news. Do not worry, you have done excellent work. The letters you wrote to me, with all their valuable details, have been brought here. Without you, I would not have been able to discover so much!"

Holmes' warm words of thanks made me feel much better, and I decided that he was right not to have told me his plans.

"Now tell me about your visit to Mrs Laura Lyons," Holmes said.

I told Holmes everything Mrs Lyons had said, and how she had acted.

"This is all very important," Holmes said. "Your information gives me the answers to questions that I did not know before. Did you know that Mrs Lyons and Stapleton are very close friends? They often meet, and they write to each other. Perhaps I can use this information to turn Stapleton's wife against him ... "

"His wife?" I asked. "Who and where is she?"

"The lady called Miss Stapleton, who pretends to be his sister, is really his wife," said Holmes.

I was shocked. "Good heavens, Holmes! Are you sure? If she is his wife, why did Stapleton allow Sir Henry to fall in love with her?"

"Well, Watson, Stapleton did not know that Sir Henry was going to feel that way. By falling in love with Miss Stapleton, Sir Henry has hurt no one except himself. By following them everywhere, Stapleton made sure that Sir Henry never had a chance to tell her he loved her. I tell you again, the lady is his wife, and not his sister. Stapleton owned a school in the north of England before they came here two years ago. He told you that, and then you told me in your letter. I checked to see if these things were true. I found out that there was a school, the man who had owned it went away with his wife when the school closed. They changed their name, but someone told me what they looked like. These people were definitely the Stapletons."

"But why do they pretend to be brother and sister?" I asked.

"This is not Miss Stapleton's fault. Stapleton knows she will be much more useful to him if people think she is a free, unmarried woman."

Suddenly I realized that Stapleton's smiling face hid an evil, strange character. "So Stapleton is our enemy! He is the man with the long black beard, who followed us in London. And the warning note to Sir Henry came from Miss Stapleton!"

"That's right!" said Holmes.

"But if Miss Stapleton is really his wife, why does he write to Laura Lyons?"

"Your excellent work has given me the answer to that question, Watson. You told me that Mrs Lyons deeply wanted to get a divorce. I realized that she hoped to marry Stapleton. He told her that he was not married, and that he loved her and wanted to marry her. Terrible man, isn't he? When she learns the truth, she may decide to help us. We must go and talk to her tomorrow."

"One last question, Holmes," I said. "What does Stapleton want? What is he trying to do here?"

Holmes spoke very quietly as he answered my question. "Murder, cold-blooded murder. Stapleton is trying to kill Sir Henry. Do not ask me to tell you more, Watson. I am about to catch him in a trap. There is only one danger—that he will act before I am ready. Another day, or perhaps two, and I shall have solved the mystery. Until then you must watch Sir Henry very, very closely! You should be with him every day. But I am glad you came here. You have found out many important things."

Suddenly we heard an awful scream that spread across the moor! It was a cry of pain!

"Oh, my God," I whispered. "What is that?" Holmes had jumped to his feet. "Where is it, Watson?" he said.

The hopeless cry came again, louder, nearer, and more terrible than before. And then we heard a new sound—the howl of a hound, long, deep, and frightening!

"The hound!" cried Holmes. "Come, Watson, come! Good god! We might be too late ... "

(end of section)