The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1902-07-27
THE. HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES, E866NAN DOYLE

log fire cracked and snapped Sir
Henry and I held out our hands to IL. for
We were numb from our long drive. Then
We sazed round Us at the high, thin WIN
dow OF old stained glass. the oak pane'-
ing. the stays heads. the coats-of-armS
upon the walls. all dim and somber in the
subdUed light Of the central lamp.
Its just as I imagined" said Sir Henry.
rs II not the very picture OF an old fam
fly homer To think that this should be the
same hall in which for go years my people
have lived. II strikes me solemn to think
OF IT."
I saw his dark face lit up with a boyish
enthusiasm as ne gazed about him. The
light beat upon him where he stood, but
long shadows trailed down the walls and
hung like a black canopy above him Har-
rymOre had returned from taking our lug
gage to our rooms. He stood in front OF US
now with the subdCsd manner OF a we'll
trained servant He was a remarkable
looking man, tall. handsome. with n square
black beard. and pale. distinguished feat
ures.
would you wish dinner to be served at
once. sir?"
rs II ready7
IN a very few minutes, sir. You will find
hot water in your rooms. My wife and I
viii be happy. Sir Henry, to stay with you
until you have made your fresh arrange
ments. but you will understand that under
the new conditions this house will require
a considerable STAFF"
'Nnat lew cOnliJlOuSs
81 only meant, sir. that Sir Charles led
a very retired life. and We were able TO
look after his wants. You would. naturally.
wish to have more company. and so you
will need changes in your household"
D you mean that your wife and you
wish TO leave?"
only when it is quite convenient to you.
sir"
But your family have been with US for
: several generations. have they not? l
should be sorry to begin my life by break
ing al old family connection"
1 seemed to discern some signs OF emo
ton upon the buffers white face.
Il feel hat also. sir, and so does my WIFE
But TO tell the truth. sir. We were ootn
| very much attached to Sir Charles, and his
| death gave US a shock and made these Sur
roundings very painful to US. l fear that
we shall never again be easy IN our MINIS
at Baskerville Hall"
But what do you intend to dor
81 have no doubt. sir. that We shall Sue
coed in establishing ourselves in some busi-
ness. Sir Charles's generosity has given Us
the means to do so. And now, sir perhaps
! had best show you to your rooms
A square balustraded gallery ran round
the top Of the old hall. approached by a
double stair. From this central point two
long corridors extended the whole length
OF the building. from which all the
bedrooms opened. My own was In the same
wing as Baskervills's and almost next door
TO IL. These rooms appeared to be much
more modern than the central part OF the
house. and the bright paper and numerous
candles did something to remove the SOM
Der impression which our arrival had left
upon my mind
But the ~dining-room, which opened out OF
the hall, was a place OF shadow and gloom
1t was a long chamber with a step separat-
ing the dais whers the family sat from
the lower portion reserved for their de-
pendents. At one end a minstrels gallery
| nNar1ngkaI a. Rack helm9 shot aCrC89-
above our heads. with a smoke-darkened
ceiling beyond them. With rows Of daring
torches to light 1t up and the color and
rude hilarity Of an old-time banquet. E
might have softened; but now, when two
bIack-clothed gentlemen sat in the H:tls
circle OF light thrown by a shaded lamp,
ones voice became huShed and ones spirit
subdued. \ dim line OF ancestors. In every
| variety OF dress. from the EliZabethan
knight to the buck OF the Regency, stared
down upon US and daunted Us by their 81
lent company. We talked little. and 1 for
one was glad when the meal was over and z
We were able TO retire into the modern
blliard-room and smoke q cigarette ms
My word. IL Isn't o very cheerful PlssA"
said Sir Henry. Il suppose one can hSos
down to II. but 1 feel q biz out OF the
picture at present. / don't wonder that NY
uncle got a little jumpy IL he lived AL
alone in such a house as this. However. If
il suits you. We will retire early tonight
and perhaps things may seem more cheer
full in the morning
I drew aside my curtains before 1 went
to bed and looked out from my window. It
opened upon the grassy space which lay m
front OF the hail door. Beyond, two copses
OF trees moaned and swung in a rising
wind. A half moon broke through the riffs
OF racing clouds. In its cold light ! saw
beyond the trees 4 broken fringe OF ricks .
and the long. low curve OF the melancholy
moor. 1 closed the curtain, feeling that
my last impression was in keeping with
the rest
And yet It was not quite the last I
found myself weary and yet wakeful. toss-s-
Ing restlessly from side to side, seeking for
the sleep which would not come Far
away a Ginning clock struck out the quar-
tiers Of the hours. but otherwise a deathiy
silence lay upon the old house. And then
suddenly. In the very dead OF the night
there came a sound to my ears. clear,
resonant and u~nmistakable. 1t was the
sob Of q woman. the munled, strangiing
gasp Of one who is torn by an ~uncontroi-
liable sorrow. I sat I'D in bed and listened
intently. Tho noise could not have been
far away and was certainly In the house.
For half an hour 1 waited With every nerve
on the alert, but there came no other SOUND
save the Ginning clock and the rustic oe
the ivy on ths wall 4rt
Copyright 1902 By George Nswnes.
TO BE CONTINUED.