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"
I
do
not
believe
in
such
nonsense
.
"
"
But
I
do
.
If
you
have
any
influence
with
Sir
Henry
,
take
him
away
from
a
place
which
has
always
been
fatal
to
his
family
.
The
world
is
wide
.
Why
should
he
wish
to
live
at
the
place
of
danger
?
"
"
Because
it
is
the
place
of
danger
.
That
is
Sir
Henry
's
nature
.
I
fear
that
unless
you
can
give
me
some
more
definite
information
than
this
it
would
be
impossible
to
get
him
to
move
.
"
"
I
can
not
say
anything
definite
,
for
I
do
not
know
anything
definite
.
"
"
I
would
ask
you
one
more
question
,
Miss
Stapleton
.
If
you
meant
no
more
than
this
when
you
first
spoke
to
me
,
why
should
you
not
wish
your
brother
to
overhear
what
you
said
?
There
is
nothing
to
which
he
,
or
anyone
else
,
could
object
.
"
"
My
brother
is
very
anxious
to
have
the
Hall
inhabited
,
for
he
thinks
it
is
for
the
good
of
the
poor
folk
upon
the
moor
.
He
would
be
very
angry
if
he
knew
that
I
have
said
anything
which
might
induce
Sir
Henry
to
go
away
.
But
I
have
done
my
duty
now
and
I
will
say
no
more
.
I
must
get
back
,
or
he
will
miss
me
and
suspect
that
I
have
seen
you
.
Good-bye
!
"
She
turned
and
had
disappeared
in
a
few
minutes
among
the
scattered
boulders
,
while
I
,
with
my
soul
full
of
vague
fears
,
pursued
my
way
to
Baskerville
Hall
.
From
this
point
onward
I
will
follow
the
course
of
events
by
transcribing
my
own
letters
to
Mr.
Sherlock
Holmes
which
lie
before
me
on
the
table
.
One
page
is
missing
,
but
otherwise
they
are
exactly
as
written
and
show
my
feelings
and
suspicions
of
the
moment
more
accurately
than
my
memory
,
clear
as
it
is
upon
these
tragic
events
,
can
possibly
do
.
Baskerville
Hall
,
October
13th
.
MY
DEAR
HOLMES
,
--
My
previous
letters
and
telegrams
have
kept
you
pretty
well
up
to
date
as
to
all
that
has
occurred
in
this
most
God-forsaken
corner
of
the
world
.
The
longer
one
stays
here
the
more
does
the
spirit
of
the
moor
sink
into
one
's
soul
,
its
vastness
,
and
also
its
grim
charm
.
When
you
are
once
out
upon
its
bosom
you
have
left
all
traces
of
modern
England
behind
you
,
but
on
the
other
hand
you
are
conscious
everywhere
of
the
homes
and
the
work
of
the
prehistoric
people
.
On
all
sides
of
you
as
you
walk
are
the
houses
of
these
forgotten
folk
,
with
their
graves
and
the
huge
monoliths
which
are
supposed
to
have
marked
their
temples
.
As
you
look
at
their
gray
stone
huts
against
the
scarred
hill-sides
you
leave
your
own
age
behind
you
,
and
if
you
were
to
see
a
skin-clad
,
hairy
man
crawl
out
from
the
low
door
fitting
a
flint-tipped
arrow
on
to
the
string
of
his
bow
,
you
would
feel
that
his
presence
there
was
more
natural
than
your
own
.
The
strange
thing
is
that
they
should
have
lived
so
thickly
on
what
must
always
have
been
most
unfruitful
soil
.
I
am
no
antiquarian
,
but
I
could
imagine
that
they
were
some
unwarlike
and
harried
race
who
were
forced
to
accept
that
which
none
other
would
occupy
.
