CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Hound of the Baskervilles

That evening, Holmes and I drove across the moor. Soon we could see the lights of the Stapletons' house in front of us. We got out of the carriage and began to walk very quietly along the path towards the house. When we were very close, Holmes told me to stop walking. He took out his gun, and I did the same.

"We shall hide behind these rocks," he whispered. "Watson, you know the house, so I want you to go forward and look through the windows. Be careful, because they cannot know that you are there. I want to know where the Stapletons and Sir Henry are, and what they are doing.

Very carefully and quietly I moved towards the house. I looked first into the dining-room window. Stapleton and Sir Henry were sitting and smoking their cigars, but there was no sign of Miss Stapleton. I moved round to the other windows, but I could not see her in any of the rooms.

I went back to the dining-room window. As I looked in again, I saw Stapleton leave the room and come out of the house. He went to a small hut beside the house, and unlocked the door. I heard strange sounds inside the hut, but I did not know what they were. Then Stapleton locked the door, and went back into the house.

I went back to Holmes and told him what I had seen. He wanted to know where Miss Stapleton was, and I told him that I had not seen her in the house. Holmes thought for a minute and said, "this detail is very important, Watson. You shall see." But he would not tell me anything more for the moment.

The moon was shining on the Great Grimpen Marsh, and a thick mist was rising from it. Holmes watched the mist and began to look worried. The mist was coming up from the marsh towards the Stapletons' house. We were hidden near the path, which was on the far side of the house from the marsh.

"The mist is coming towards us, Watson, and that is not good," said Holmes. "It is the one thing that could make my plans go wrong."

As we watched, the mist, which had crept as far as the house, began to flow round it. Angrily Holmes hit the rock in front of us with his open hand.

"Sir Henry must come out in the next fifteen minutes, or the path will be covered by the mist. Soon we will not be able to see anything at all. We will not be able to help Sir Henry when he is in danger! We must move back to higher ground above the mist."

We moved away from the house and out of the mist, which was coming slowly along the ground and hiding the path from our sight.

"We must not go too far," said Holmes. "If we do, Sir Henry may be caught before he reaches us."

Holmes sat down and put his ear to the ground, listening. "Wait! I think I hear him coming."

In a moment we heard quick footsteps on the path. After a few moments, we saw Sir Henry. He had come out of the mist and was walking along in the clear moonlight. He walked quickly along and passed us, then began to walk up the hill behind us. As he walked, he looked over his shoulder again and again. He seemed to be afraid that something was following him.

Suddenly Holmes turned to me and said. "Watson, look out! Something's coming!"

Holmes got his gun ready to fire, and I did the same.

We heard the sound of something running, but we could not see it because of the thick mist. We were about fifty meters away from the mist. We tried to see into it, and wondering what horrible thing would appear. I looked at Holmes. He was as pale as a ghost, but his eyes were bright. Suddenly his eyes grew very big with fear, and his mouth opened in surprise. I turned to see what he was staring at. When I saw the horrible shape that was running towards us my blood turned cold. My gun nearly fell from my hands, and my whole body froze with fear.

It was a hound, an enormous black hound. It was bigger than any dog I had ever seen in my life. But there was something else that was even more frightening. This hound could not be a real animal—it was a demon, a dog from Hell! Its eyes were burning red. A horrible, deathly white light covered its head and body. It was a more horrible sight than anyone could imagine.

Holmes and I stared at the horrible thing. We watched as the huge, black, burning hound ran quickly and silently up the path after Sir Henry. Far away along the path we saw Sir Henry turn and look back one more time. Then he saw the hound. His face was white in the moonlight and his hands were lifted in horror.

He tried to scream, but he could not. He only watched as the terrible animal came closer to him. I could not imagine the horror Sir Henry must be feeling—the curse was true, and the hound was coming to kill another Baskerville! We were so afraid of the evil hound that we could not move. Sir Henry was going to die, and we were helpless with fear!

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