The next morning was sunny,and we were much more cheerful.

I told Sir Henry about the crying I had heard.He rang the bell to call Barrymore,and asked him if he could explain the crying.Barrymore's face went white when he heard Sir Henry's question.

'There are only two women in the house,Sir Henry,'he an swered.'One is the maid,who sleeps on the other side of the house.The other is my wife,and she was certainly not crying.'

But he was telling a lie.I saw Mrs Barrymore after breakfast.The sun was full on her face,and it was clear she had been crying.

Why had Barrymore lied?What deep sadness had made his wife cry?There was a mystery surrounding this black bearded,handsome man.Was it possible that Barrymore was in fact the man who had been watching Sir Henry in London?I decided I must check with the local post office that the tele gram had really been put into Barrymore's own hands.

While Sir Henry worked at some papers,I walked to the post office.It was in the nearest village,which was called Grimpen.I spoke to the boy who had taken the telegram to the Hall.

'Did you give it to Mr Barrymore himself?'I asked.

'Well,'the boy said,'he was working upon the roof,so I couldn't give it to him.I gave it to Mrs Barrymore,and she promised to give it to him at once.'

'Did you see Mr Barrymore?'I asked him.

'No,'said the boy,'but why did his wife say he was upon the roof if he wasn't?'

It was hopeless to ask any more questions.It was clear that Holmes' cleverness with the telegram had not given us the proof we needed.

I was walking away from the post office when I heard some one running after me.A voice called me by name,and I turned.I expected to see Dr Mortimer,as I knew nobody else in the village.To my surprise it was a stranger.He was a small,thin man,between thirty and forty years old,with fair hair and no beard.He was carrying a butterfly net,and a box for putting butterflies in.

'I hope you will excuse me for introducing myself,Dr Wat son,'he said as he came up to me.'My name is Stapleton.I was in Dr Mortimer's house and we saw you.He told me who you are.May I walk along with you? This path back to the Hall goes near my home,Pen House.Please come in and meet my sister,and spend an hour with us.'

I accepted Stapleton's invitation,and we walked together.

'I know that you are a close friend of Sherlock Holmes,'said Stapleton.'Has Mr Holmes any ideas about Sir Charles death?'

'I'm afraid I can't answer that question,'I said.

'Will Mr Holmes visit us himself?'he asked.

'He can't leave London at the moment,'I answered.I was rather surprised that he was asking me these questions

We walked on.Stapleton told me that he and his sister had lived in Devonshire for only two years.They had moved there soon after Sir Charles had begun to live in Baskerville Hall.He also talked about the moor and how it interested him.He told me to look across the moor to a place which was a bright green colour.

'That is the Great Grimpen Marsh,'he said 'If animals or men go into the marsh,they will sink into it and die.But I can find my way to the very centre of it.Look,there is another of those poor horses.'

Something brown was fighting to get out of the bright green of the marsh.Then a terrible cry came across the moor.The horse's head and neck disappeared under the green.

'It's gone,'Stapleton said.'The marsh has caught and killed it.That often happens.It is an evil place,the Great Grimpen Marsh.'

'But you say you can go safely in and out of it?'I asked him.

'Yes,there are a few paths,and I have found them.The low hills you can see are like islands surrounded by the marsh.That is where I can find the unusual plants and butterflies.And that's why I found my way through the marsh.'

'I shall try my luck one day,'I said.

He looked at me in surprise.'Please don't try,'he said.'You would never return alive,and it would be my fault.'

'Listen,'I said.'What is that?'

A long,low cry,very deep and very sad,came over the moor.It filled the whole air.Then it died away.

'What is it?'I asked,with a cold fear in my heart.

Stapleton had a strange look on his face.'The people say it's the Hound of the Baskervilles,which is calling for some thing to hunt and kill.I've heard it once or twice before,but never so loud.'

'You are a man of science,'I said.'You don't believe that,do you?Isn't there a natural explanation for the sound?'

'A marsh makes strange noises sometimes.It is the water and the wet ground moving.'

'But that was the voice of a living creature,'I said.

'Well,perhaps it was.There are some very unusual birds on the moors.It was most probably the cry of one of those.'

At that moment a small butterfly flew across the path in front of us.'Excuse me,Dr Watson,'shouted Stapleton,and ran off to try to catch the butterfly.He ran quickly and fol lowed the butterfly on to the marsh,but he knew exactly where he could go,and was not in any danger.

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