Original subtitles

Piper! Piper!

Thanks.

What do you make of it, Watson?

Huh?

You've got eyes on the back of your head, Holmes.

Well, I have a well -polished coffee pot in front of me. Ah.

Mrs. Hudson said it was left last night while we were out. What do you make of

it?

Ah.

Well, his name at least we know.

I think Dr.

Mortimer is a successful elderly medical man.

Well esteemed, since those who know him gave him this mark of their

appreciation.

Yeah.

I think he's a country practitioner. Does a good deal of visiting on foot.

Friends of CCH.

I should guess that to be the local hunt.

Oh, bravo. Bravo!

I am bound to say you habitually underrate your abilities.

Oh.

It may be that you are not yourself luminous, but you are a conductor of

Some people, without possessing genius, have a remarkable power for stimulating

it. I... I confess that, my dear fellow, I am very much in your debt.

Thank you.

But I am afraid that most of your conclusions will ever own you.

H, surely...

Hospital. C .C. suggests Charing Cross.

I mean, if so, I would postulate a young man, under 30, amiable, absent -minded,

unambitious.

And the possession of a dog. Can I get the stick?

Oh. Thank you.

Yes.

Larger than a terrier.

A curly -haired spaniel.

Dr.

Mortimer?

Thank you, sir. Thank you.

I wasn't sure whether I'd left it here or at the shipping office.

The aircraft had brought it to UC Docks today at... at Tilbury.

Ah.

You interest me very much, Mr. Holmes.

I'd hardly expected so dolico -catholic a skull or such well -marked

supraorbital development.

Would you have any objection to my running my finger along your parietal

fissure? Please, Dr. Mortimer.

A cast of your skull, sir, until the original becomes available.

It is not my intention to be fulsome, but I confess, I covet your skull.

Behave and sit down, Dr. Mortimer.

This one.

Good boy.

Well, I presume that it was not your phrenological passion.

Which drew you to Begg Street?

Unfortunately, it was not, sir.

What?

I have here... I have here the statement of a certain legend which runs in the

Baskerville family.

Baskerville?

I'm an executor of the Charles Baskerville's will and found it amongst

papers. It concerns Hugo de Baskerville, who was lord of the manor at Grimpen on

Dartmoor. Dartmoor?

They come 200 years ago.

The document is somewhat later.

Learn then from this story to be circumspect in the future.

For those foul passions whereby our family have suffered may not be loosed

to our culpable ruin.

8th of November, 1742.

It's an intriguing preamble. I read of Sir Charles Baskerville's death.

From a medical point of view, it was a poorly informed article. No.

Thank you.

He died of... of dyspnea and cardiac exhaustion.

Were the conditions linked or were they parallel?

Oh, they were linked, in my opinion. There was, um... some facial distortion.

Caused by the cardiac pain, presumably.

Yes.

You sound doubtful.

It was not merely facial distortion.

Well, in the year 1692, Hubert of Baskerville abducted a young girl.

But she escaped.

Across the moor that night, her king, he

uncanniled his pack of hounds and hunted her down like a wild animal.

When his three drunken companions followed, they found the girl in a deep

or goyal, dead from fear and fatigue.

They were also confronted the cause of her death, a huge, demonic hound.

Even as they looked, the hound tore the throat out of Hubert of Baskerville.

One companion died that very night of what he saw, and the other twain were

broken men for the rest of their days.

The hound is supposed to have haunted the family since then.

It's the general misfortune of the life.

Well... This may appeal to your lurid taste in fiction, Watson.

It's a fairy tale, sir.

Of course, Mr. Holmes.

But fairy tales would not survive without a kernel of truth.

On the night Charles died, I arrived at Baskerville Hall at first light.

I'll tell you what I found.

No more.

Ornette.

Wait for me, sir.

I had been concerned about him for some time.

He had become obsessed with the legend of the hound. By the summer house.

He believed he had heard the hound itself upon the moors. He even believed

had seen it.

At the time, I took such morbid fancies to be part and parcel of Sir Charles's

pathological condition.

And now?

I no longer believe that to be the case.

There, sir. We didn't like to move him, sir.

Once we knew... Yes.

Yes, quite, Barrymore.

A sad occasion, Mrs. Barrymore.

An unhappy vigil for you.

He was our hope, Doctor.

Hope of the country, hereabouts.

He brought the world to us.

He was our hope.

Before Sir Charles ran up the alley, he had evidently stood at the gate for at

least ten minutes.

How do you know that?

The ash had dropped twice from his cigar.

And there were also three spent matches.

You impressed me, Dr. Mortimer.

Was there anything else?

Yes.

Footprints.

A man or a woman's?

Mr. Holmes.

There were the footprints of a gigantic heart.

Several people have seen a creature upon the moor, a huge creature, ghastly,

spectral.

I've cross -examined two of them, hard -headed countrymen both, and their dory

tally.

I want you to advise me what I should do with Sir Henry Baskerville.

Henry Baskerville has spent his life in America.

He had come over on the SS to Broughto. We'll send him direct to Baskerville.

Very good.

It's been a pleasure having you aboard, Sir Henry.

Sir Henry.

I still haven't gotten used to that title.

Was there any other claimant who wanted the child with his fate?

None. His youngest brother, Roger, died in Central America of yellow fever some

30 years ago.

Northumberland Hotel, Northumberland Avenue.

Sir Henry is the last of the basketballs.

Why did

you not consult me immediately?

There is a realm in which the most accomplished detective is helpless.

There are certain things here which are impossible to reconcile to the settled

order of nature.

Yes, well, if you believe this to be supernatural, you'll find more help from

priest.

How can I assist?

And I'll have an answer, damn it!

He's in a stir, sir.

About his boot.

if that fellow can't find my old black boot?

Surely it was a new brown boot. No.

Last night, they took one of the brown ones. Today, they've sneaked one of the

black. I'm sorry, Mortimer. I'm sorry to trouble you with this nonsense, but

this is a first -class hotel, damn it!

Oh.

Hello.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes will just say this.

I think it is worth troubling about, as a matter of fact.

You do? Why?

Because it's inexplicable.

Good.

That's good.

Oh, my God.

Have you got a cold, Watson?

It's a bit thick, I suppose.

Thick? It's intolerable.

You've been at your club all day.

How do you know that?

Oh, here, clearly.

Clearly.

I've been in Devonshire.

In spirit?

Quite so.

I came down for a man from France.

Ah.

Now, see here.

Bathcliff and Hall.

Grimpen. Just a clutter of cottages.

Two mulled houses.

Farmhouses.

Laugh to fool.

Merit it has. I mean, that is all.

For this represents marshland.

And these barrows come to your settlement or burial ground.

A tin mine.

Disused, he says.

And all the land is weighed.

I've found it the great convict.

It is a worthy setting if the devil did decide to dabble in the affairs of man.

Then you yourself are inclined towards a supernatural explanation.

It would have been word to Dr. Mortimer that we breakfast with him tomorrow.

It arrived by post this morning.

So you think I've little puzzles, Mr. Holmes?

This one wants more thinking than I'm able to give it.

Posted yesterday?

Yes.

A joke is like it's not.

So, Mr. Henry, has anything interesting happened to you since you've been in

London? No, I don't think so.

Have you been followed?

What? I seem to have walked right into a dime novel.

Why should anyone follow me?

That letter was delivered to the hotel.

You are being followed, sir.

If you value your life.

Your reason, keep away from the moor.

The issue, I suggest, is whether it constitutes a friendly or an unfriendly

warning. That is surely impossible to determine.

There are various features which may help us.

The envelope, for example, if somewhat crumpled, is presentable.

Its contents, mostly, are not.

The letter has been torn neatly enough along a fold.

And a leader article in the Times.

The Lady Bourgeois print is unmistakable. It has been chosen from

the message. But the message is awkwardly cut with inappropriate short

scissors. And the gluing of the print to the paper is smudged and misaligned.

Merci.

Only half a sheet of paper, and yet the watermark is clear.

You will find that paper in a hundred middle -grade hotels, but not, I think,

here.

A first -class hotel would have a paper of a greater weight.

The ink is institutional.

That also suggests a hotel.

What can we determine from this?

Pocket.

I infer that the person who wrote this message is staying at a nearby hotel.

He's neat of habit.

And started the task methodically.

But then he began to fear discovery.

He rushed it through.

And put the result into his pocket until such time as he posted it.

It is true that fearful people threaten.

But my interpretation is that this is a friendly warning.

Because it seems a risk was incurred in its execution.

Bravo, Mr Holmes. You fulfill your reputation, sir. No mistake.

But if you're right and this fellow's afraid, then he's afraid not only for

own skin, but what might happen to me.

Quite so.

Dr Mortimer, I think...

The question is whether or not you should go to Dott.

There's no devil in hell, nor no man on the earth. It's going to prevent me from

going to the home of my own people.

Then we'll see how we can mitigate the danger.

Do you really believe there's danger?

I think that if there is, then it is considerable.

You certainly cannot go alone.

Dr. Mortimer returns with me.

He has his practice and he lives many miles distant.

You'll come yourself?

I have to stay in London.

Blackmail case.

I recommend my friend Watson.

That's very kind of you, Doctor.

Well...

Who was that man?

I have no idea.

Well, how did you know someone who'd been following Baskerville?

How else did they know so immediately where he would stay?

At least they will not continue to follow him now.

When a crisis comes, Watson, and it will, report to me.

Watson, do you know what... The residue of Sir Charles' bath to give him the

savings.

No, I don't.

It's worth a million.

A state for which a man might play a dangerous game.

Such a thumb has a definite materiality.

And yet, of all things in heaven and earth, we are men of fire.

It's an ugly, dangerous business, Watson.

Believe me, I shall be very glad to have you back safe and sound in Baker Street

once more.

Thank you, Holmes.

My dear Watson, I will not bias your mind by suggesting theories or

Simply report facts to me in the fullest possible manner.

Concentrate your attention upon the following.

Above all, avoid the moor.

When, as the old parchment faintly put it,

The powers of evil are exalted.

Okay.

What is this person?

Come back. Get from Princeton, sir.

Out three days now.

They're marching all over.

They ain't seen no sign of him.

Farmers don't like it.

Who is he?

Selden. The Notting Hill murderer.

Folk are locking their doors, I can tell you.

What'd the man do?

He murdered a whole family.

With such savagery, they deemed him insane.

Welcome, Sir Henry.

Welcome to Baskerville Hall. Thank you.

It's Barrymore, yes?

At your service, sir.

Mrs. Barrymore?

Madam?

If I can be of service, do not hesitate to send for me, day or night.

Of course, thank you.

Walk on.

This way, Sir Henry.

Five hundred years of us.

Just as I imagined it.

Too much as I imagined it.

This place needs the products of Messrs. Swan and Edison.

But I suppose I can tone down to it.

Excellent meal, Barrymore. Please thank Mrs. Barrymore for us.

Thank you, sir.

I'll be pleased you enjoyed it.

Well, Dr. Watson, ciao.

Sir.

Barrymore.

What is it?

Sir.

My wife and I will be happy to stay with you.

We'll tell you I've settled in and made your arrangements.

But your family's been with us for generations.

Decided to start my life here, breaking an old family connection.

Thank you, sir.

My wife and I were much attached to Sir Charles and his death.

We feel that nothing can be... We feel...

We feel we shall never be easy here at the hall, sir.

Well, what do you mean to do?

Oh, Sir Charles's generosity has given us the means to set up in business in a

small way, sir.

Ah.

Well, thank you for telling me.

Might I look forward to you pulling me a pint in your own house one day?

That is the sort of thing, sir. Thank you, sir.

Good. Mind you call it basketball arms.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

The man is frightened.

Yes.

Sharp.

Turning into a rough night.

I shall walk over to the post office at Grimpen in the morning.

I'm sorry, but Holmes asked me not to let you leave the house without him.

This shall take care of any dog that I may meet in your absence.

Even art.

All right.

Tomorrow morning she'll find me at home.

I'm safe at home, am I?

That's what Holmes believes.

It's an ugly and dangerous business, Watson.

I shall be glad to have you back, safe and sound, in Baker Street once more.

It's a realm in which the most accomplished detective is helpless.

There are certain things... which are impossible to reconcile to the settled

order of nature.

Above all, avoid the moor, where, as the old parchment quaintly puts it,

the powers of evil are exalted.

Do you know what the residue of Sir Charles Baskerville's estate was?

Close on a million.

Such a sum has a distinctive materiality about it.

Good morning.

How are you today?

All very well, thank you.

Thank you, sir. Thank you.

Goodbye. Goodbye, sir.

Dr. Watson?

Excuse my presumption.

Dr. Mortimer pointed you out to me.

From the window of his surgery as you passed.

Probably he's told you my name.

Stapleton. A very good hand. Yes, indeed. How do you do?

We were concerned.

Franklin, Mortimer and I.

Concerned? Lest the Henry should not come.

You know the legend of the fiend hound.

We thought it might please his imagination just as it seized poor Sir

How is Mr. Sherlock Holmes?

Dr. Watson, you are here. It follows, then, that Mr. Holmes is interested.

I'm afraid I cannot answer your question.

May I ask if he is going to honour us with a visit himself?

He cannot leave town. Other cases engage his attention.

I assure you, I'm simply here to visit my friend Sir Henry.

I do not need help.

I apologise for the intrusion.

Um...

A moderate walk along this path brings us to Merriford House. I wonder...

Perhaps you would spare me an hour, Dr Watson, that I might have the pleasure

introducing you to my sister.

I am expected back at Baskerville Hall. I'm sure an hour will not hurt.

Thank you, Mr Stapleton.

It was entomology, was it, that brought you to the moor?

Indeed.

Although I delight in it for its own sake, it is...

So vast, so barren, so mysterious.

Well, there, for instance.

What do you make of that?

Wouldn't be a rare place for a gallop.

That is the Great Grimpen Mire.

False step there means death, to man or beast.

Only yesterday I saw one of the moor ponies wander into it.

Never came out.

I could see his head for quite some time.

straining out of the bog hole.

It sucked him down at last.

Even in the dry season, it is a danger to cross it, but after these recent

rains, it is an awful place.

And yet, I can find my way to the very heart of it and return alive.

Well, why should you wish to visit such a horrible place?

You see the low hill there beyond it?

They're really islands.

The flora there is undisturbed, which means, of course, that rare species can

breed there. One of them, a subspecies, Lycanidae, is unique to the place.

In fact, I... I'm credited with this discovery.

Really?

The moor is full of noises.

What was it?

The peasants say it is the hound of the Baskervilles calling for its prey.

You don't believe such nonsense, surely?

Did you ever hear the boom of a bitten?

No. The bird is said now to be confined to certain Norfolk fens, but why not

here?

I've heard its cry described as being something between a foghorn and a soul

torment.

What do you think?

Ah.

Hayali.

Right to London instantly.

For God's sake, Lord, I ask. Go back and never set foot on the moor again.

My brother is coming.

Miss Stepp?

Get away from this place at all costs.

Do you see that orchid?

Um, yes, yes, I do.

It's a pity you came so late. Our best orchids are nearly over.

Jack!

You have introduced yourself, I see.

Yes. I was telling Sir Henry it's a pity he has missed the beauties of the moor.

Were I Sir Henry, Miss Stapleton, I'm sure I would not miss your beauty, but

afraid I'm not.

Sir Henry, that is.

Merely his friend, my Dr John Watson at your service.

Did you catch your butterfly?

No.

Well, it flies like a witch, I'm afraid.

And forget my foolish outburst, Dr. Watson. I cannot forget, Miss Stapleton.

You must.

Sir Henry is my friend. His welfare is a very close concern of mine.

Tell me why you are so eager that he should return to London.

You know the story of the hound.

I do not believe such nonsense.

But I do.

If you have any influence with Sir Henry, take him away.

I fear that unless you can give me more definite information than this, it would

be impossible to get him to move.

I cannot say anything definite.

For I do not know anything definite.

Miss Stapleton, I would ask you one more question.

If you meant no more than this when you first spoke to me, why were you so eager

that your brother should not overhear what you said? There is nothing to which

he or anybody else could object.

My brother is very anxious to have the hall inhabited.

He thinks it's for the good of the poor folk upon the moor.

He would be very angry if he knew I had said anything which might induce the

Henry to go away.

Any luck?

Afraid not.

Flies like a witch.

And so beautiful.

Pale, clouded yellow.

I have a number of them, of course.

I must show you my collection.

The English Lepidoptera, I feel.

I have made a particular study.

of those insects which inhabit the margins of Heath and Marsh.

A magnificent collection and the work of a serious scientist.

Even the Exotica, I must mention a brilliant creature called Morpho

limpida, was dated and catalogued with the care he applies to his personal

field, the British lichenidae.

one of which is unique to the Moor.

I must also report that the new brown boot has turned up.

Barrymore found it amongst Sir Henry's luggage when he unpacked.

Miss Stapleton is very handsome, and on Tuesday we are to dine here at

Baskerville Hall with all our neighbours.

So Sir Henry, who chafes a little at the restrictions you have imposed upon

him... will have a chance to judge her beauty for himself.

We are also to meet Dr Mortimer's wife, and the old vicar of Grimpen, who is

very shy, they say, and Mr Franklin, an amateur astronomer of some note, who has

a reputation of being litigious to a fault.

Law is law, and I need to teach them. I have established a right -of -way

slapped through the middle of old Middleton's Park.

Case decided today.

We must teach these magnates they cannot ride roughshod over the rights of

commoners. Case decided today. Today, Mr Franklin?

Today, sir.

Why do you ask?

I had seen in Fernworthy that you had the wood there closed to the villagers.

Also today.

A red -letter day, as I said.

True, sir.

I shall be burnt in effigy tonight in Fernworthy, but I have the case against

them.

Infernal people seem to think there are no rights of property. They can swarm

where they like with their picnic papers and bottles. But why should they

complain? No one goes to the wood now.

They have to cross the moor to get to it. No one will cross the moor.

Why is that, sir?

You've surely heard.

The hound walks abroad upon the moor. The hound of the Baskervilles, Sir

I've heard.

Is it a phenomenon you believe in yourself, Mr. Franklin?

Ask the vicar.

Astronomic and forensic matters are my domain.

Demonic matters are his.

Is it a hound of hell, vicar?

Or what?

Yes.

An interesting question.

Whatever it is that has been seen, it is undoubtedly something.

Our farrier, Thomas Chubb, is not a man given to visions.

And he saw something out there.

A dog, he said.

But the size of a calf.

And I do not think local hysteria is an adequate explanation.

Myself.

I pray nightly that it remove itself from us, whatever it is.

we all may sleep the more soundly.

Yes.

I believe it is seldom the murderer who frightens the folk.

In Grimpen they believe he is still upon the moor.

We are too ready to condescend and attribute superstition to these poor

when they are in fact subject to a natural and sensible fear.

Bravo, Miss Stapleton.

Bravo. This hellhound's existence would not survive a court of law.

Mere hearsay.

Bring the thing before the bench in a full blaze of jurisprudence, say I, then

will believe in it.

Thank you.

Thank you for a lovely evening.

Sir Henry.

Yes. Sir Henry.

Yes. My God.

Wonderful.

Claret.

Mission accomplished!

It's been there half an hour.

What's he doing? I don't know.

We must not go on for more indulgence. When the powers of evil are exalted,

Doctor, bogey is to frighten children, man.

Come on.

We have the chance of getting to the bottom of this business tonight.

You all right?

Yeah.

I thought I should, but I couldn't.

Come on.

My God.

Do you believe there's any truth in these rumors?

At any rate, we're finally in London and we're followed still.

Come on, let's get back to the home.

What's this all about, Barrymore?

Sir, it may seem that we have betrayed your trust.

Speak! Damn it, Barrymore, you have!

Sir, sir, no fault of it, sir.

He didn't want it, it's me.

It's me in mind.

The poor creature came to me for help, sir.

How could I refuse after what they have done to him?

Seldon, Mrs. Barrymore, I don't understand. Why should he come to a

woman?

He's her brother, sir.

What? Truth, sir.

He dragged himself here after.

And what would you expect?

We fed him.

We took food out for him, sir, and no more than you would for a dog.

We hoped he'd go, but the light has been there night after night.

Is this true, Barrymore?

Yes, sir.

Have you any conception what this man did, Barrymore?

Yes, sir.

But he... he's a broken man.

They done surgery, sir, to tame him.

He's like a child, sir. Oh, please.

Oh, please, sir.

Please, please, please.

Mrs. Barrymore, please. Please, please. This is nothing.

By your leave, sir.

Arrangements have been made.

He'll be out of the country in a few days.

I beg you to say nothing to the police.

What do you think, Doctor?

You say he's harmless now, Barrymore.

Yet he threw a rock at us. As a child, my throat stung, sir.

The murderous heart has gone out of him.

He's but a frightening baby now, sir.

This is an apt description.

He will be harmless.

Very well.

Please take your wife to your room.

We'll say nothing about this matter.

Thank you, sir.

I thought we had a chance of getting to the bottom of this business.

All we seem to have done is compound a felony.

I'm glad, though, that you heard that sound on the moor.

I was beginning to think I had dreamt it.

I was in the territories once. I heard wolves up there.

But nothing to freeze the blood like that sound tonight.

Are you convinced it's a hound?

I am.

I would take God Holmes with you.

Why does he not come?

And yet, Holmes, when daylight and bird throng return, the black imaginings of

the night evaporate.

Even Dr. Mortimer's assiduous visits, accompanied as they are by constant talk

of bones, our mortal residue, fail to sour the beauties of the moor in autumn.

We are, however, still far from the heart of the mystery.

The question which most persistently nags at me is who is the man on the

With his identity known, I feel we should have the key to this fatal riddle

within our grasp.

Meanwhile,

I have discovered a streak of amiable, tender -heartedness in my host.

So guilty did he feel of nearly shooting his servant's murderous brother -in

-law that he has given Barrymore many of his excellent American clothes.

Determined, as he now is, to play the role of English squire, in dress as in

anything else.

Much too American. I'm turning over a new leaf. You take it.

Thank you kindly, sir.

Oh, yeah.

Well, I'm going to stroll over to Merripit House. I thought I'd invite

and his sister, or rather, I should say, Miss Stapleton and her brother to

luncheon on Monday.

Well, I know you won't want me to come with you there, but Holmes insisted

that... Now, look here, my friend.

Holmes could not have foreseen certain developments.

He'd make a very civil gooseberry, but no.

London next stop.

London next stop.

How dare you, sir, make advances to my sister in such a fashion? Jack! I'm sure

the lady gave you no reason to presume upon her good intentions.

We welcome you into our circle, sir, and you repay the hospitality by forcing

your disgusting attentions upon her.

No, but I assure you, sir, my intentions... Await her!

Await the hall!

Hello, Watson.

Where have you dropped from?

I took it upon myself to follow you.

I'm afraid my duty to Holmes overrode my tact.

I see.

Well, hope they're not selling tickets in Grimpen.

I assume you saw what happened?

Mm -hmm.

Did he ever strike you as a bit crazy, this brother of hers?

Not particularly.

Oh, why does me?

What's he getting so heated about? What objection can he have to me as a brother

-in -law?

I mean, he can't object to my worldly position, so... It's got to be me

Oh, I don't know.

Do you see it? Not at all. Oh, me.

Oh, thanks.

He won't let us be together, not for a moment.

Let's realize it.

Oh, I don't understand.

There's a light in her eyes that speaks louder than words. I know it. I know it

in my heart.

But he treats me as if I was... as if I was a mad seducer in an old melodrama.

Oh, it's absurd.

Perhaps... Well, I was just thinking that...

This business with the hound and the family curse and so on.

If Stapleton partly believes it's true, perhaps he might want his sister not to

be... Yes, I know.

Just till the business is resolved.

Yes, of course.

Well, shall we walk home together?

forever in your debt. Oh, no, not at all.

Well, good day.

Good day, sir.

Well, well.

What happened?

Stapleton.

I still think the fellow's crazy, but he's just given me the most complete

apology a man's ever likely to receive in his life, and he's invited us to

dinner tomorrow.

Friday, indeed.

Good.

I'll look forward to it.

Ah, the post at Grimpton.

Just so.

Thank you, sir.

May I have a word, sir?

Of course.

You... You've been very good to us, Aaron.

I'd like to do the best I can for you.

There's something I found out, sir.

Yes?

We found it after the inquest.

And told a mortal soul to know how.

About Sir Charles's death, sir.

Do you know how he died?

No, sir.

Well, what then?

I do know why he was at the gate at that hour.

Why?

To meet a woman, sir.

A woman?

Are you sure?

Oh, yes, sir.

What was her name?

I can only give you her initials, sir.

Yes, it was something my wife found. She was cleaning out this very room, Sir

Charles's study, sir, and in the grate there she found this... Scrap of paper.

Oh, t 'was all burnt, but... Well, it could still be read.

From the shine in the writing, if you know what I mean, sir.

Of course I understand. Please go on.

Well, she called to me and... I wrote it down.

Please.

Please, as you are a gentleman, burn this letter and be at the gate by ten o

'clock.

and the initials, LL.

Mr. Franklin?

Come along up. I shall order you tea.

Thank you.

You're here to solve the Baskerville mystery, are you not? Well, I have a

telescope. I see things on the moor. Surely you should know about them.

A striking portrait.

Laura.

Your daughter, Mr Frank.

Yes.

Yes, that is my daughter.

The woman she has become is not.

This way, Doctor.

Ah, that. Just in energy, sir.

I'm sorry to hear it. You are. What do you suppose such a thing does to a

father? This way.

Married her seducer, sir.

An artist, so -called.

Not that artist. That artist earned his living. Her artist was too grand to earn

his living. Artist?

Wastrel. Lyons. A fellow called Lyons.

Ever heard of him?

No, actually.

Laura Lyons. Nobody has.

After her money. My money.

I was burned in effigy in Fernworthy last week.

You predicted that, I remember. Exactly so, because I know the slackness of

authority hereabouts.

The case of Franklin v. Regina will bring the matter before the attention of

public. I told the police they would have occasion to regret their treatment

me, and already my words have come true.

How so?

I could tell them what they are dying to know.

But you're not going to. Certainly not.

It's a case of poaching.

Poaching? Fiddlesticks. The convict, sir.

Selden, the mad stabber.

You don't mean to say you know where he is? Near enough.

It has never occurred to the police that the way to catch the man was to find

out where he got his food, and so trace it to him.

His food is taken to him by a child.

A child?

Why not?

I have observed the child for more than a week.

It is in the nature of children to form perverse allegiances.

Surely it's more likely to be the child of a moorland shepherd taking him his

lunch. Flocks, move.

Quick.

Dr. Watson, quick.

Yes, I see him.

Dr. Mortimer!

Dr. Watson!

I have something marvellous to show you.

Isn't it beautiful?

Splendid. It's complete of its kind, I have yet found. I found it myself once

more. The labourers aren't here today.

It is quite, quite beautiful.

If there's one animal on this planet which I cannot abide, it is a rabbit.

Really?

Rabbit's bile.

Have you any conception of what a family of rabbits can do to the chronology of

a dick in a single night?

You are on your way to the necropolis.

I could show you round, if you like.

The necropolis?

Most people think it a Neolithic village, but I have reason to believe it

burial ground. Some most interesting features.

Ah, I'm...

I should be glad of your company that someone bivouacked near there.

Who is it?

It's the man who's been at Sir Henry's heels since he landed here. I can't

his motives are benevolent. So, if you come, I should be obliged if you bring

that gun you handle so well.

There may be some danger.

If there's to be danger, then two guns will be better than one.

Yes.

Do you know Laurel Lyons?

Old Franklin's daughter. Yes, she's a patient of mine. She lives in Coombe

Tracy. He's cut her off, you know, without a penny.

Do you know she was acquainted with Sir Charles?

It's possible.

After her marriage went wrong, she was able to set up for herself in a small

way, as a typist. Sir Charles may have made that possible.

He was a man who fostered many good causes.

She may have been one of them.

What sort of a painter was Lyons?

Oh, brilliant.

Watson is a laughter whore.

Perhaps it is you who's been dogged by the secret man, and not Sir Henry at

What do we do?

I intend to wait.

It's a lovely evening, Doctor.

I really think you would be more comfortable outside than in.

When I see a cigarette stop marked Bradley, Oxford Street,

I know my friend Watson is in the neighborhood.

Be careful with that gun.

I thought you were in Baker Street, working out that case of blackmail.

That is what I wished you to think.

I deserve better at your hands, Holmes. You use me and do not trust me.

My presence would have warned our very formidable opponents and put them on

their guard. It was essential that you and Sir Henry believed me to be London

all the time and behaved accordingly.

Dr Mortimer.

Mr Holmes.

How long have you been in Devon? I fancy you saw me on my second night when I

was foolish enough to show myself against the moon.

All my reports have been wasted.

No, no, no.

Here they are.

And very well thumbed, I assure you.

I had to subvert the local post office.

Brilliant, my dear fellow.

Brilliant.

You must, I know, have much to discuss, and I must be getting home.

Please, one question, Mr Holmes.

Are you any closer to discovering what, if anything, the Hound is?

I am.

Does it exist?

It does.

Thank you, Dr. Warner.

Mr. Holmes?

Good day, Dr. Wilson. Thank you for your help.

Now let me see what meager refreshment I can provide.

Cartwright, the little chap from the express office.

I brought him down with me to look after my simple wants.

A loaf of bread and a clean collar.

I've discovered that there's a woman living in Coon Tracy with the initials L

.L. Ah, yes, Franklin's daughter.

Not a lion.

I was told you they'd been running along the same lines.

Did you know that she's seeking a divorce from her husband?

But she lacks the means to parry through. It's a costly business to

still. Ah.

Dr. Mortimer thought that Sir Charles might have been a discreet benefactor.

Really?

That's interesting. Please, Watson.

It's quite disgusting, Holmes.

Yes.

Yes, it is.

Well, it's better when it's hot.

Did you know there was a close intimacy between Laura Lyons and the

entomologist, Stapleton?

No, I did not.

Yes, they meet.

They write.

She's no doubt...

counting on becoming his wife. That is the most powerful weapon in our hands.

How? I don't understand.

Because Miss Stapleton is in reality Stapleton's wife, not his sister.

His wife?

Yes, it was she who sent us that morning to the Northumberland Hotel.

Why the elaborate corruption?

Don't ask me for particulars, Watson, but it is murder.

Refined, cold -blooded, deliberate murder.

What led you to him?

He is a genuine entomologist.

But that mention of his sole claim to fame, his discovery of a subspecies

like Canidae, that was his fatal moment.

There can only be one discoverer of a species.

That pinpointed him.

It has been a hard trail...

It's Sir Henry.

Sir Henry's clothes were the poor devil's death.

Poor devil, indeed.

There's only a half -life in truth.

No one must know for the moment.

We must hide the body.

Sir Henry must know nothing of hearing the hand.

He'll have a good nerve with the ordeal he must undergo tomorrow.

So, this is Bathgill Hall.

One moment.

He's a bug of you.

Sir Charlie's brother, who died of yellow fever in Costa Rica, did not die

childless. We have him, Watson.

We have him.

And I don't swear that by tomorrow night he will be fluttering in our net as

helpless as one of his own butterflies.

I fear that Watson and I must go to London.

London?

I think we will be more useful there at this present juncture.

Excuse me.

Might I have some fresh coffee?

Certainly, sir. But I thought you were going to see me through this business.

Tell Stapleton that I would have been happy to come with you, but that urgent

business required me to be in town.

I don't understand.

Should I not come with you to London? Why should I stay here alone?

No, you must stay.

And do exactly as I tell you.

Of course I will.

Drive to Merripit House.

Send the truck back.

And let it be known that you intend to walk home.

Across the moor.

At night.

If I had not every confidence in your nerve and courage, I would not suggest

It is essential that you do this.

Then I will do just what you say.

Take the path.

Exactly on the path from Merripit House to the Grimpen Road. It is your natural

way.

And when do you intend to leave?

Immediately after breakfast.

Thank you very much.

Sir?

Mrs. Lyons?

Yes?

So, you admit that you asked the child to meet you at the gate at

ten o 'clock, but you say that you did not keep the appointment.

I did not?

You do realize that was the very hour of his death.

Is that an accusation, sir?

I'm only asking if you can forge a connection.

between the two events.

There is no connection.

Mrs. Lyons, we believe this to be a case of murder.

And the evidence may implicate not only your friend, Mr. Stapleton, but his wife

as well.

His wife?

Mrs. Lyons, the person who had passed for his sister is really his wife.

Mr.

Stapleton offered me marriage on condition I could obtain a divorce from

husband.

He told me he... Oh, he has lied.

He has lied and lied and lied.

Why should I preserve faith with him who never kept any with me?

Ask me what you will. There is nothing I shall hold back.

You have said Sir Charles helped you to set yourself up as a professional

typist. Presumably that was after your husband deserted you.

Yes.

Sir Charles knew my father would not help me.

One thing I swear to you.

When I wrote the letter, I never dreamed of any harm to the old gentleman who

had been my kindest friend.

I entirely believe you, madam.

And for Carl Hughes Stapleton as an intermediary?

He did not like to be seen to be doing good.

And the letter that you sent to Sir Charles on the day of his death?

I needed money for my divorce.

I had heard he was leaving for London.

And the sending of the letter was suggested by Stapleton?

He dictated it.

The reason he gave was that Sir Charles would help with the legal expenses of my

divorce.

And he dissuaded you from keeping the appointment?

And swore me to silence concerning it.

He said that the death had been a very mysterious one and that I should

certainly be suspected were the facts to become known.

He frightened me into silence.

You have had a very fortunate escape, Mrs Lyons.

You have been near the edge of the precipice.

Students of criminology will remember the incidents in Grodno in Little Russia

in the year 66.

And, of course, there are the Anderson murders in North Carolina.

But this case... But this is features which are entirely...

Dr.

Watkins tells me that you handle a gun.

I am fairly proficient.

Well, it was you who first brought this case to our attention.

It is only right that you...

While Dr. Mortimer and I guard the path, you watch the house, Watson.

I don't like it.

There's fog in the air.

It's in the hollows already.

Be careful, Watkins.

I'm so pleased you could come.

It's a pity Dr. Watkins had to return to London.

Nevertheless, I'm sure we'll have a pleasant evening together.

If you'd excuse me for a moment, Sir Henry.

Sir Henry, we still implied the house when I left.

It's getting late.

You say Beryl Stapleton was not there? No.

I cannot think where she might be.

And there were only two places late for dinner.

The fog is getting thicker all the time.

Courage, Sir Henry.

Brave it.

It's coming.

You're a brave man.

Doctor.

It's all right, Seth.

It's all right.

The hound got past us.

Now, if you can manage it, we must get back to the house as soon as possible.

What?

The door's locked.

Help! Help, please!

Help!

Please, help!

Help!

She's badly hurt.

All right.

I thought this man loved me.

He loved nothing.

Where is he?

The police have... He's dead.

He will go to his island in the mire.

No.

had established that Stapleton had bought the dog from Mangles of the

Road.

Mangles of the Fulham Road in London.

Wrong. And Mangles of the Fulham Road, London.

He took it on the North Devon line and walked a great distance over the moor to

his home. As we know, he eventually kenneled it at the heart of the Grimpen

Mire.

How on earth did he expect to claim the inheritance of this city?

creature had mauled Sir Henry to death. Mauled.

Very good word, Watson.

Through intermediaries, Beryl Stapleton said that he intended to return to

Central America and conduct his claim upon the estate from the depths of Costa

Rica. Having established his identity as a basketball through the British

authorities there. Of course, he had no interest in the estate. He simply wanted

the money.

What about the boot?

He told the boot, presumably, to have an after for Henry's clothes to set the

hound on him.

That is why the new boot would not do.

Sir Henry had not worn it. What?

We are late.

I have tickets for the Huguenot cover garden.

A little dinner at Martini's on the way. Wonderful, Holmes.