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But we have to prove all this, and we are not in a position to do it."

"Well, then, tonight?"

"We are not much better off tonight.

Again, there was no direct connection between the hound and the man's death.

We never saw the hound.

We heard it, but we could not prove that it was running upon this man's trail.

There is a complete absence of motive.

No, my dear fellow; we must reconcile ourselves to the fact that we have no case at present, and that it is worth our while to run any risk in order to establish one."

"And how do you propose to do so?"

"I have great hopes of what Mrs. Laura Lyons may do for us when the position of affairs is made clear to her. And I have my own plan as well. Sufficient for tomorrow is the evil thereof; but I hope before the day is past to have the upper hand at last."

I could draw nothing further from him, and he walked, lost in thought, as far as the Baskerville gates.

"Are you coming up?"

"Yes; I see no reason for further concealment.

But one last word, Watson.

Say nothing of the hound to Sir Henry.

Let him think that Selden's death was as Stapleton would have us believe.

He will have a better nerve for the ordeal which he will have to undergo tomorrow, when he is engaged, if I remember your report aright, to dine with these people."

"And so am I."

"Then you must excuse yourself and he must go alone. That will be easily arranged. And now, if we are too late for dinner, I think that we are both ready for our suppers."

Sir Henry was more pleased than surprised to see Sherlock Holmes, for he had for some days been expecting that recent events would bring him down from London.

He did raise his eyebrows, however, when he found that my friend had neither any luggage nor any explanations for its absence.

Between us we soon supplied his wants, and then over a belated supper we explained to the baronet as much of our experience as it seemed desirable that he should know.

But first I had the unpleasant duty of breaking the news to Barrymore and his wife.

To him it may have been an unmitigated relief, but she wept bitterly in her apron.

To all the world he was the man of violence, half animal and half demon; but to her he always remained the little wilful boy of her own girlhood, the child who had clung to her hand.

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