The Hound of the Baskervilles by Henry Brook

Author:Henry Brook
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Usborne Publishing Ltd
Published: 2013-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

As I walked back, I was overtaken by Dr. Mortimer driving his small cart. He insisted I accept a ride with him, as he was coming over to the Hall for dinner. He told me his pet spaniel had gone missing after a walk on the moor, and he had been out looking for him. I thought of the deadly bog at the Grimpen Mire and hoped the doctor’s dog was safe.

“By the way, Dr. Mortimer,” I said, remembering Barrymore’s confession, “you must know all the people around here. Most of them are your patients, after all. Do you happen to know a woman with the initials L.L.?”

“I don’t think so. Of course, there are a few families I don’t know very well. Oh wait – there is Laura Lyons. But she lives in Coombe Tracey.”

“Who is she?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

“Frankland’s daughter.”

“What? Frankland, the old trouble-maker?”

“Exactly. She fell in love with an artist who was down here doing sketches of the moor. He was called Lyons. He turned out to be a liar and a cheat, and in the end he abandoned her. After that, her father refused to have anything to do with her and stopped her allowance. He had always disapproved of the marriage.”

“How does she make a living?” I asked.

“I’m sure Frankland gives her a little. But he’s not rich himself, as I’ve told you. Her story got around and a few of us clubbed together to give her enough money to start a business. Stapleton and Sir Charles helped the most. She runs a typewriting service in the village.”

Dr. Mortimer was curious to know why I was asking about Laura Lyons, but I managed to change the subject. I was learning some of the secrecy of my friend Sherlock Holmes, saying no more than I had to, until I was ready to pounce.

After dinner, I retired to the library to drink some coffee while Sir Henry and Dr. Mortimer played cards. But I was soon to have another shocking conversation with the quiet butler. When he came in to refill my coffee cup, I asked if Selden had left on his boat to South America.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Barrymore sounding slightly desperate. “But I hope he has. I took food out for him two days ago and I’ve heard nothing since.”

“Did you see him then?”

“No, sir,” he answered, “but the food was gone.”

“So he was definitely out there.”

“Unless it was the other man who took it, sir.”

I almost spat my coffee out onto the carpet. “You know about the man on the tor?” I managed to say, despite my surprise.

“I haven’t seen him, but Selden has. He’s hiding too, but he’s not a convict. It worries me, sir.” His face was almost white with fright. “There’s something sinister going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Those noises on the moor, sir, have you heard them?”

“I have.”

“They are not natural, sir. There isn’t a man I know who would cross the moor at night. There’s talk of a dog, a giant dog, with flashing jaws and eyes that spit out flames.

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