The Curse of the Baskervilles
“I have in my pocket a manuscript，” said Dr. James Mortimer.
“I observed it as you entered the room，” said Holmes.
“It is an old manuscript.”
“Early eighteenth century， unless it is a forgery.”
“How can you say that， sir？”
“You have presented an inch or two of it to my examination allthe time that you have been talking. It would be a poor expertwho could not give the date of a document within a decade or so.
You may possibly have read my little monograph upon the subject.
I put that at 1730.”
“The exact date is 1742.” Dr. Mortimer drew it from his breastpocket.
“This family paper was committed to my care by SirCharles Baskerville， whose sudden and tragic death some threemonths ago created so much excitement in Devonshire. I maysay that I was his personal friend as well as his medical attendant.
He was a strong-minded man， sir， shrewd， practical， and asunimaginative as I am myself. Yet he took this document veryseriously， and his mind was prepared for just such an end as dideventually overtake him.”
Holmes stretched out his hand for the manuscript and flattenedit upon his knee.
“You will observe， Watson， the alternative use of the long s andthe short. It is one of several indications which enabled me to fixthe date.”
I looked over his shoulder at the yellow paper and the fadedscript. At the head was written： “Baskerville Hall，” and below inlarge， scrawling figures： “1742.”
“It appears to be a statement of some sort.”
“Yes， it is a statement of a certain legend which runs in theBaskerville family.”
“But I understand that it is something more modern andpractical upon which you wish to consult me？”
“Most modern. A most practical， pressing matter， which mustbe decided within twenty-four hours. But the manuscript is shortand is intimately connected with the affair. With your permissionI will read it to you.”
Holmes leaned back in his chair， placed his finger-tips together，and closed his eyes， with an air of resignation. Dr. Mortimerturned the manuscript to the light and read in a high， crackingvoice the following curious， old-world narrative：
“Of the origin of the Hound of the Baskervilles there havebeen many statements， yet as I come in a direct line from HugoBaskerville， and as I had the story from my father， who also had itfrom his， I have set it down with all belief that it occurred even asis here set forth. And I would have you believe， my sons， that thesame Justice which punishes sin may also most graciously forgiveit， and that no ban is so heavy but that by prayer and repentance itmay be removed. Learn then from this story not to fear the fruitsof the past， but rather to be circumspect in the future， that thosefoul passions whereby our family has suffered so grievously maynot again be loosed to our undoing.
“Know then that in the time of the Great Rebellion （thehistory of which by the learned Lord Clarendon I most earnestlycommend to your attention） this Manor of Baskerville was held byHugo of that name， nor can it be gainsaid that he was a most wild，profane， and godless man. This， in truth， his neighbours mighthave pardoned， seeing that saints have never flourished in thoseparts， but there was in him a certain wanton and cruel humourwhich made his name a byword through the West. It chanced thatthis Hugo came to love （if， indeed， so dark a passion may be knownunder so bright a name） the daughter of a yeoman who held landsnear the Baskerville estate. But the young maiden， being discreetand of good repute， would ever avoid him， for she feared his evilname. So it came to pass that one Michaelmas this Hugo， withfive or six of his idle and wicked companions， stole down uponthe farm and carried off the maiden， her father and brothers beingfrom home， as he well knew. When they had brought her to theHall the maiden was placed in an upper chamber， while Hugo andhis friends sat down to a long carouse， as was their nightly custom.
Now， the poor lass upstairs was like to have her wits turned at thesinging and shouting and terrible oaths which came up to her frombelow， for they say that the words used by Hugo Baskerville， whenhe was in wine， were such as might blast the man who said them. Atlast in the stress of her fear she did that which might have dauntedthe bravest or most active man， for by the aid of the growth ofivy which covered （and still covers） the south wall she came downfrom under the eaves， and so homeward across the moor， therebeing three leagues betwixt the Hall and her father’s farm.
“It chanced that some little time later Hugo left his guests tocarry food and drink—with other worse things， perchance—tohis captive， and so found the cage empty and the bird escaped.
Then， as it would seem， he became as one that hath a devil， for，rushing down the stairs into the dining-hall， he sprang upon thegreat table， flagons and trenchers flying before him， and he criedaloud before all the company that he would that very night renderhis body and soul to the Powers of Evil if he might but overtakethe wench. And while the revellers stood aghast at the fury of theman， one more wicked or， it may be， more drunken than the rest，cried out that they should put the hounds upon her. WhereatHugo ran from the house， crying to his grooms that they shouldsaddle his mare and unkennel the pack， and giving the hounds akerchief of the maid’s， he swung them to the line， and so off fullcry in the moonlight over the moor.
“Now， for some space the revellers stood agape， unable tounderstand all that had been done in such haste. But anon theirbemused wits awoke to the nature of the deed which was like tobe done upon the moorlands. Everything was now in an uproar，some calling for their pistols， some for their horses， and some foranother flask of wine. But at length some sense came back to theircrazed minds， and the whole of them， thirteen in number， tookhorse and started in pursuit. The moon shone clear above them，and they rode swiftly abreast， taking that course which the maidmust needs have taken if she were to reach her own home.