"We're at close grips at last," said Holmes as we walkedtogether across the moor. "What a nerve the fellow has! How hepulled himself together in the face of what must have been aparalyzing shock when he found that the wrong man had fallen avictim to his plot. I told you in London, Watson, and I tell younow again, that we have never had a foeman more worthy of oursteel."

"I am sorry that he has seen you."

"And so was I at first. But there was no getting out of it."

"What effect do you think it will have upon his plans now thathe knows you are here?"

"It may cause him to be more cautious, or it may drive him todesperate measures at once. Like most clever criminals, he maybe too confident in his own cleverness and imagine that he hascompletely deceived us."

"Why should we not arrest him at once?"

"My dear Watson, you were born to be a man of action. Yourinstinct is always to do something energetic. But supposing, forargument's sake, that we had him arrested to-night, what onearth the better off should we be for that? We could provenothing against him. There's the devilish cunning of it! If hewere acting through a human agent we could get some evidence,but if we were to drag this great dog to the light of day it wouldnot help us in putting a rope round the neck of its master."

"Surely we have a case."

"Not a shadow of one -- only surmise and conjecture. Weshould be laughed out of court if we came with such a story andsuch evidence."

"There is Sir Charles's death."

"Found dead without a mark upon him. You and I know thathe died of sheer fright, and we know also what frightened himbut how are we to get twelve stolid jurymen to know it? Whatsigns are there of a hound? Where are the marks of its fangs? Ofcourse we know that a hound does not bite a dead body and thatSir Charles was dead before ever the brute overtook him. But wehave to prove all this, and we are not in a position to do it."

"Well, then, to-night?"

"We are not much better off to-night. Again, there was nodirect connection between the hound and the man's death. Wenever saw the hound. We heard it, but we could not prove that itwas running upon this man's trail. There is a complete absenceof motive. No, my dear fellow; we must reconcile ourselves tothe fact that we have no case at present, and that it is worth ourwhile to run any risk in order to establish one."

"And how do you propose to do so?"

"I have great hopes of what Mrs. Laura Lyons may do for uswhen the position of affairs is made clear to her. And I have myown plan as well. Sufficient for to-morrow is the evil thereof;but I hope before the day is past to have the upper hand at last."

I could draw nothing further from him, and he walked, lost inthought, as far as the Baskerville gates.

"Are you coming up?"

"Yes; I see no reason for further concealment. But one lastword, Watson. Say nothing of the hound to Sir Henry. Let himthink that Selden's death was as Stapleton would have us believe. He will have a better nerve for the ordeal which he willhave to undergo to-morrow, when he is engaged, if I rememberyour report aright, to dine with these people."

"And so am I."

"Then you must excuse yourself and he must go alone. Thatwill be easily arranged. And now, if we are too late for dinner, Ithink that we are both ready for our suppers."

Sir Henry was more pleased than surprised to see SherlockHolmes, for he had for some days been expecting that recentevents would bring him down from London. He did raise hiseyebrows, however, when he found that my friend had neitherany luggage nor any explanations for its absence. Between us wesoon supplied his wants, and then over a belated supper weexplained to the baronet as much of our experience as it seemeddesirable that he should know. But first I had the unpleasant dutyof breaking the news to Barrymore and his wife. To him it mayhave been an unmitigated relief, but she wept bitterly in herapron. To all the world he was the man of violence, half animaland half demon; but to her he always remained the little wilfulboy of her own girlhood, the child who had clung to her hand.Evil indeed is the man who has not one woman to mourn him.

"I've been moping in the house all day since Watson went offin the morning," said the baronet. "I guess I should have somecredit, for I have kept my promise. If I hadn't sworn not to goabout alone I might have had a more lively evening, for I had amessage from Stapleton asking me over there."

"I have no doubt that you would have had a more livelyevening," said Holmes drily. "By the way, I don't suppose youappreciate that we have been mourning over you as havingbroken your neck?"

Sir Henry opened his eyes. "How was that?"

"This poor wretch was dressed in your clothes. I fear yourservant who gave them to him may get into trouble with thepolice."

"That is unlikely. There was no mark on any of them, as faras I know."

"That's lucky for him -- in fact, it's lucky for all of you, sinceyou are all on the wrong side of the law in this matter. I am notsure that as a conscientious detective my first duty is not to arrestthe whole household. Watson's reports are most incriminatingdocuments."

"But how about the case?" asked the baronet. "Have youmade anything out of the tangle? I don't know that Watson and Iare much the wiser since we came down."

"I think that I shall be in a position to make the situationrather more clear to you before long. It has been an exceedinglydifficult and most complicated business. There are several pointsupon which we still want light -- but it is coming all the same."

"We've had one experience, as Watson has no doubt toldyou. We heard the hound on the moor, so I can swear that it isnot all empty superstition. I had something to do with dogs whenI was out West, and I know one when I hear one. If you canmuzzle that one and put him on a chain I'll be ready to swearyou are the greatest detective of all time."

"I think I will muzzle him and chain him all right if you willgive me your help."

"Whatever you tell me to do I will do."

"Very good; and I will ask you also to do it blindly, withoutalways asking the reason."

"Just as you like."

"If you will do this I think the chances are that our littleproblem will soon be solved. I have no doubt "

He stopped suddenly and stared fixedly up over my head intothe air. The lamp beat upon his face, and so intent was it and sostill that it might have been that of a clear-cut classical statue, apersonification of alertness and expectation.

"What is it?" we both cried.

I could see as he looked down that he was repressing someinternal emotion. His features were still composed, but his eyesshone with amused exultation.

"Excuse the admiration of a connoisseur," said he as hewaved his hand towards the line of portraits which covered theopposite wall. "Watson won't allow that I know anything of artbut that is mere jealousy because our views upon the subjectdiffer. Now, these are a really very fine series of portraits."

"Well, I'm glad to hear you say so," said Sir Henry, glancingwith some surprise at my friend. "I don't pretend to know muchabout these things, and I'd be a better judge of a horse or a steerthan of a picture. I didn't know that you found time for suchthings. "

"I know what is good when I see it, and I see it now. That's aKneller, I'll swear, that lady in the blue silk over yonder, and thestout gentleman with the wig ought to be a Reynolds. They areall family portraits, I presume?"

"Every one."

"Do you know the names?"

"Barrymore has been coaching me in them, and I think I cansay my lessons fairly well."

"Who is the gentleman with the telescope?"

"That is Rear-Admiral Baskerville, who served under Rodneyin the West Indies. The man with the blue coat and the roll ofpaper is Sir William Baskerville, who was Chairman of Committees of the House of Commons under Pitt."

"And this Cavalier opposite to me -- the one with the blackvelvet and the lace?"

"Ah, you have a right to know about him. That is the cause ofall the mischief, the wicked Hugo, who started the Hound of theBaskervilles. We're not likely to forget him."

I gazed with interest and some surprise upon the portrait.

"Dear me!" said Holmes, "he seems a quiet, meek-manneredman enough, but I dare say that there was a lurking devil in hiseyes. I had pictured him as a more robust and ruffianly person."

"There's no doubt about the authenticity, for the name and thedate, 1647, are on the back of the canvas."

Holmes said little more, but the picture of the old roystererseemed to have a fascination for him, and his eyes were continually fixed upon it during supper. It was not until later, when SirHenry had gone to his room, that I was able to follow the trendof his thoughts. He led me back into the banqueting-hall, hisbedroom candle in his hand, and he held it up against thetime-stained portrait on the wall.

"Do you see anything there?"

I looked at the broad plumed hat, the curling love-locks, thewhite lace collar, and the straight, severe face which was framedbetween them. lt was not a brutal countenance, but it was primhard, and stern, with a firm-set, thin-lipped mouth, and a coldlyintolerant eye.

"Is it like anyone you know?"

"There is something of Sir Henry about the jaw."

"Just a suggestion, perhaps. But wait an instant!" He stoodupon a chair, and, holding up the light in his left hand, he curvedhis right arm over the broad hat and round the long ringlets.

"Good heavens!" I cried in amazement.

The face of Stapleton had sprung out of the canvas.

"Ha, you see it now. My eyes have been trained to examinefaces and not their trimmings. It is the first quality of a criminalinvestigator that he should see through a disguise."

"But this is marvellous. It might be his portrait."

"Yes, it is an interesting instance of a throwback, whichappears to be both physical and spiritual. A study of familyportraits is enough to convert a man to the doctrine of reincarnation. The fellow is a Baskerville -- that is evident."

"With designs upon the succession."

"Exactly. This chance of the picture has supplied us with oneof our most obvious missing links. We have him, Watson, wehave him, and I dare swear that before to-morrow night he willbe fluttering in our net as helpless as one of his own butterflies.A pin, a cork, and a card, and we add him to the Baker Streetcollection!" He burst into one of his rare fits of laughter as heturned away from the picture. I have not heard him laugh often,and it has always boded ill to somebody.

I was up betimes in the morning, but Holmes was afoot earlierstill, for I saw him as I dressed, coming up the drive.

"Yes, we should have a full day to-day," he remarked, andhe rubbed his hands with the joy of action. "The nets are all inplace, and the drag is about to begin. We'll know before the dayis out whether we have caught our big, leanjawed pike, orwhether he has got through the meshes."

"Have you been on the moor already?"

"I have sent a report from Grimpen to Princetown as to thedeath of Selden. I think I can promise that none of you will betroubled in the matter. And I have also communicated with myfaithful Cartwright, who would certainly have pined away at thedoor of my hut, as a dog does at his master's grave, if I had notset his mind at rest about my safety."

"What is the next move?"

"To see Sir Henry. Ah, here he is!"

"Good-morning, Holmes," said the baronet. "You look likea general who is planning a battle with his chief of the staff."

"That is the exact situation. Watson was asking for orders."

"And so do I."

"Very good. You are engaged, as I understand, to dine withour friends the Stapletons to-night."

"I hope that you will come also. They are very hospitablepeople, and I am sure that they would be very glad to see you."

"I fear that Watson and I must go to London."

"To London?"

"Yes, I think that we should be more useful there at thepresent juncture."

The baronet's face perceptibly lengthened.

"I hoped that you were going to see me through this business.The Hall and the moor are not very pleasant places when one isalone."

"My dear fellow, you must trust me implicitly and do exactlywhat I tell you. You can tell your friends that we should havebeen happy to have come with you, but that urgent businessrequired us to be in town. We hope very soon to return toDevonshire. Will you remember to give them that message?"

"If you insist upon it."

"There is no alternative, I assure you."

I saw by the baronet's clouded brow that he was deeply hurtby what he regarded as our desertion.

"When do you desire to go?" he asked coldly.

"Immediately after breakfast. We will drive in to CoombeTracey, but Watson will leave his things as a pledge that he willcome back to you. Watson, you will send a note to Stapleton totell him that you regret that you cannot come."

"I have a good mind to go to London with you," said thebaronet. "Why should I stay here alone?"

"Because it is your post of duty. Because you gave me yourword that you would do as you were told, and I tell you tostay."

"All right, then, I'll stay."

"One more direction! I wish you to drive to Merripit HouseSend back your trap, however, and let them know that youintend to walk home."

"To walk across the moor?"

"Yes."

"But that is the very thing which you have so often cautionedme not to do."

"This time you may do it with safety. If I had not everyconfidence in your nerve and courage I would not suggest it, butit is essential that you should do it."

"Then I will do it."

"And as you value your life do not go across the moor in anydirection save along the straight path which leads from MerripitHouse to the Grimpen Road, and is your natural way home."

"I will do just what you say."

"Very good. I should be glad to get away as soon afterbreakfast as possible, so as to reach London in the afternoon."

I was much astounded by this programme, though I remembered that Holmes had said to Stapleton on the night before thathis visit would terminate next day. It had not crossed my mindhowever, that he would wish me to go with him, nor could Iunderstand how we could both be absent at a moment which hehimself declared to be critical. There was nothing for it, however, but implicit obedience; so we bade good-bye to our ruefulfriend, and a couple of hours afterwards we were at the station ofCoombe Tracey and had dispatched the trap upon its returnjourney. A small boy was waiting upon the platform.

"Any orders, sir?"

"You will take this train to town, Cartwright. The momentyou arrive you will send a wire to Sir Henry Baskerville, in myname, to say that if he finds the pocketbook which I havedropped he is to send it by registered post to Baker Street."

"Yes, sir."

"And ask at the station office if there is a message for me."

The boy returned with a telegram, which Holmes handed tome. It ran:

Wire received. Coming down with unsigned warrant.

Arrive five-forty.

Lestrade.

"That is in answer to mine of this morning. He is the best ofthe professionals, I think, and we may need his assistance. Now,Watson, I think that we cannot employ our time better than bycalling upon your acquaintance, Mrs. Laura Lyons."

His plan of campaign was beginning to be evident. He woulduse the baronet in order to convince the Stapletons that we werereally gone, while we should actually return at the instant whenwe were likely to be needed. That telegram from London, ifmentioned by Sir Henry to the Stapletons, must remove the lastsuspicions from their minds. Already I seemed to see our netsdrawing closer around that leanjawed pike.

Mrs. Laura Lyons was in her office, and Sherlock Holmesopened his interview with a frankness and directness whichconsiderably amazed her.

"I am investigating the circumstances which attended thedeath of the late Sir Charles Baskerville," said he. "My friendhere, Dr. Watson, has informed me of what you have communicated, and also of what you have withheld in connection withthat matter."

"What have I withheld?" she asked defiantly.

"You have confessed that you asked Sir Charles to be at thegate at ten o'clock. We know that that was the place and hour ofhis death. You have withheld what the connection is betweenthese events."

"There is no connection."

"In that case the coincidence must indeed be an extraordinaryone. But I think that we shall succeed in establishing a connection, after all. I wish to be perfectly frank with you, Mrs. Lyons.We regard this case as one of murder, and the evidence mayimplicate not only your friend Mr. Stapleton but his wife aswell."

The lady sprang from her chair.

"His wife!" she cried.

"The fact is no longer a secret. The person who has passed forhis sister is really his wife."

Mrs. Lyons had resumed her seat. Her hands were graspingthe arms of her chair, and I saw that the pink nails had turnedwhite with the pressure of her grip.

"His wife!" she said again. "His wife! He is not a marriedman."

Sherlock Holmes shrugged his shoulders.

"Prove it to me! Prove it to me! And if you can do so --!"The fierce flash of her eyes said more than any words.

"I have come prepared to do so," said Holmes, drawingseveral papers from his pocket. "Here is a photograph of thecouple taken in York four years ago. It is indorsed 'Mr. andMrs. Vandeleur,' but you will have no difficulty in recognizinghim, and her also, if you know her by sight. Here are threewritten descriptions by trustworthy witnesses of Mr. and Mrs.Vandeleur, who at that time kept St. Oliver's private school.Read them and see if you can doubt the identity of these people."

She glanced at them, and then looked up at us with the setrigid face of a desperate woman.

"Mr. Holmes," she said, "this man had offered me marriageon condition that I could get a divorce from my husband. He haslied to me, the villain, in every conceivable way. Not one wordof truth has he ever told me. And why -- why? I imagined that allwas for my own sake. But now I see that I was never anythingbut a tool in his hands. Why should I preserve faith with himwho never kept any with me? Why should I try to shield himfrom the consequences of his own wicked acts? Ask me whatyou like, and there is nothing which I shall hold back. One thingI swear to you, and that is that when I wrote the letter I neverdreamed of any harm to the old gentleman, who had been mykindest friend."

"I entirely believe you, madam," said Sherlock Holmes.

"The recital of these events must be very painful to you, andperhaps it will make it easier if I tell you what occurred, and youcan check me if I make any material mistake. The sending of thisletter was suggested to you by Stapleton?"

"He dictated it."

"I presume that the reason he gave was that you wouldreceive help from Sir Charles for the legal expenses connectedwith your divorce?"

"Exactly."

"And then after you had sent the letter he dissuaded you fromkeeping the appointment?"

"He told me that it would hurt his self-respect that any otherman should find the money for such an object, and that thoughhe was a poor man himself he would devote his last penny toremoving the obstacles which divided us."

"He appears to be a very consistent character. And then youheard nothing until you read the reports of the death in thepaper?"

"No."

"And he made you swear to say nothing about your appointment with Sir Charles?"

"He did. He said that the death was a very mysterious one,and that I should certainly be suspected if the facts came out. Hefrightened me into remaining silent."

"Quite so. But you had your suspicions?"

She hesitated and looked down.

"I knew him," she said. "But if he had kept faith with me Ishould always have done so with him."

"I think that on the whole you have had a fortunate escape,"said Sherlock Holmes. "You have had him in your power and heknew it, and yet you are alive. You have been walking for somemonths very near to the edge of a precipice. We must wish yougood-morning now, Mrs. Lyons, and it is probable that you willvery shortly hear from us again."

"Our case becomes rounded off, and difficulty after difficultythins away in front of us," said Holmes as we stood waiting forthe arrival of the express from town. "I shall soon be in theposition of being able to put into a single connected narrative oneof the most singular and sensational crimes of modern times.Students of criminology will remember the analogous incidents inGodno, in Little Russia, in the year '66, and of course there arethe Anderson murders in North Carolina, but this case possessessome features which are entirely its own. Even now we have noclear case against this very wily man. But I shall be very muchsurprised if it is not clear enough before we go to bed this night. "

The London express came roaring into the station, and asmall, wiry bulldog of a man had sprung from a first-classcarriage. We all three shook hands, and I saw at once from thereverential way in which Lestrade gazed at my companion thathe had learned a good deal since the days when they had firstworked together. I could well remember the scorn which thetheories of the reasoner used then to excite in the practical man.

"Anything good?" he asked.

"The biggest thing for years," said Holmes. "We have twohours before we need think of starting. I think we might employit in getting some dinner and then, Lestrade, we will take theLondon fog out of your throat by giving you a breath of the purenight air of Dartmoor. Never been there? Ah, well, I don'tsuppose you will forget your first visit."