ke-darkened ceiling beyond them. With rows of
flaring torches to light it up, and the colour and rude hilarity of
an old-time banquet, it might have softened; but now, when two
black-clothed gentlemen sat in the little circle of light thrown by a
shaded lamp, one's voice became hushed and one's spirit subdued. A
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 silent company. We talked little, and I for one was glad when the
meal was over and we were able to retire into the modern billiard-room
and smoke a cigarette.

"My word, it isn't a very cheerful place," said Sir Henry. "I suppose
one can tone down to it, but I feel a bit out of the picture at present.
I don't wonder that my uncle got a little jumpy if he lived all alone
in such a house as this. However, if it suits you, we will retire early
tonight, and perhaps things may seem more cheerful in the morning."

I drew aside my curtains before I went to bed and looked out from my
window. It opened upon the grassy space which lay in front of the hall
door. Beyond, two copses of trees moaned and swung in a rising wind. A
half moon broke through the rifts of racing clouds. In its cold light I
saw beyond the trees a broken fringe of rocks, and the long, low curve
of the melancholy moor. I 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,
tossing restlessly from side to side, seeking for the sleep which would
not come. Far away a chiming clock struck out the quarters of the
hours, but otherwise a deathly 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 unmistakable. It was the sob of a woman, the
muffled, strangling gasp of one who is torn by an uncontrollable sorrow.
I sat up in bed and listened intently. The noise could not have been
far away and was certainly in the house. For half an hour I waited with
every nerve on the alert, but there came no other sound save the chiming
clock and the rustle of the ivy on the wall.

Chapter 7. The Stapletons of Merripit House

The fresh beauty of the following morning did something to efface from
our minds the grim and gray impression which had been left upon both of
us by our first experience of Baskerville Hall. As Sir Henry and