k
window, and I looked through a blurred pane at the driving clouds
and at the tossing outline of the wind-swept trees. It is a wild
night indoors, and what must it be in a stone hut upon the moor.
What passion of hatred can it be which leads a man to lurk in
such a place at such a time! And what deep and earnest purpose
can he have which calls for such a trial! There, in that hut upon
the moor, seems to lie the very centre of that problem which has
vexed me so sorely. I swear that another day shall not have
passed before I have done all that man can do to reach the heart
of the mystery.

Chapter 11

The Man on the Tor

The extract from my private diary which forms the last chapter
has brought my narrative up to the 18th of October, a time when
these strange events began to move swiftly towards their terrible
conclusion. The incidents of the next few days are indelibly
graven upon my recollection, and I can tell them without
reference to the notes made at the time. I start then from the
day which succeeded that upon which I had established two facts
of great importance, the one that Mrs. Laura Lyons of Coombe
Tracey had written to Sir Charles Baskerville and made an
appointment with him at the very place and hour that he met his
death, the other that the lurking man upon the moor was to be
found among the stone huts upon the hill-side. With these two
facts in my possession I felt that either my intelligence or my
courage must be deficient if I could not throw some further light
upon these dark places.

I had no opportunity to tell the baronet what I had learned about
Mrs. Lyons upon the evening before, for Dr. Mortimer remained
with him at cards until it was very late. At breakfast, however,
I informed him about my discovery, and asked him whether he would
care to accompany me to Coombe Tracey. At first he was very eager
to come, but on second thoughts it seemed to both of us that if I
went alone the results might be better. The more formal we made
the visit the less information we might obtain. I left Sir Henry
behind, therefore, not without some prickings of conscience, and
drove off upon my new quest.

When I reached Coombe Tracey I told Perkins to put up the horses,
and I made inquiries for the lady whom I had come to interrogate.
I had no difficulty in finding her rooms, which were central and
well appointed. A maid showed me in without ceremony, and as I
entered the sitting-room a lady, who was s