4 The Light on the Moor

Chapter 4 The Light on the Moor The following day, Jack Stapleton invited Sir Henry and me for lunch. From the moment they met, Sir Henry and Miss Stapleton seemed drawn to each other. On the way back, he talked of little else but her. Over the following days, there were further meetings and their romance blossomed. I thought her brother would be pleased with the match, yet he seemed strangely unhappy about it. One night, a week after our arrival at Baskerville Hall, I was woken at around two in the morning by footsteps outside my room. I rose, opened my door, and peeped out. I saw Barrymore walking down the passage with a candle in his hand. Wondering what he was up to, I followed as quietly as I could and watched him enter one of the empty bedrooms. I peered in through the open doorway and saw him crouching by the window with the candle held

close to the glass. For several minutes he remained there, gazing out at the blackness of the moor. Then, with a deep sigh, he rose to his feet. I quickly returned to my room before he saw me. I told Sir Henry about what I'd seen, and the following night we sat up in my room in case Barrymore decided to make another secret journey. Shortly after the clock chimed two, we heard his footsteps in the corridor. Softly, we stole after him and watched him enter the same empty bedroom and hold his candle to the window. Sir Henry suddenly marched into the room and demanded to know what he was doing.

Barrymore sprang up in surprise. "Nothing, sir! Just checking the window was fastened." "Don't lie, Barrymore!" said Sir Henry. "Why were you holding a candle to the window?" The butler lapsed into sullen silence. Then I saw something: a tiny pinpoint of light in the darkness of the moor. "What's that?" I asked. Barrymore said nothing. "Answer us or leave this house forever!" said Sir Henry. "It's my fault," said a woman's voice. We turned to see Mrs. Barrymore standing at the door. She looked pale and shaken. "Selden, the escaped convict, is out there starving on the moor," she said. "He signals to us, and we bring him food and clothing." We stared at her in amazement. "But Selden's a dangerous criminal!" cried Sir Henry. "He's also my brother," she said.

Sir Henry and I put on our boots and coats and went outside, aiming for the yellow light on the moor. I had my revolver and Sir Henry had his riding crop. As we walked through the darkness, there arose that strange howl I'd heard before—a deep, wild moan that filled the air. It chilled the blood in my veins. "What the devil was that, Watson?" "A sound that's sometimes heard on the moor." We stumbled on, eventually reaching the source of the light: a guttering candle in a crevice of rock. Then we saw him—Selden—a savage, filthy man with matted hair and small, cunning

eyes. He took off when he spotted us, bolting over the brow of a hill. We gave chase, but he was too fast and was soon swallowed by the night. We leaned against a rock, catching our breath. As we started for home, I saw a figure standing on a hill, silhouetted by the moon. It wasn't Selden—this man was taller and thinner. I pointed him out to Sir Henry, but when I looked back, he was gone.

Next morning, Sir Henry told Barrymore he'd have to tell the police about Selden. Barrymore begged him not to, saying it would break his wife's heart if her brother went back to prison. He swore that Selden wouldn't hurt anyone, and in a few days, he'd be on a ship bound for South America and gone forever.