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Chapter 9. The Light upon the Moor [Second Report of Dr. Watson]

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    npackourthings,”saidthebutler. “Oh,John,John,haveIbroughtyoutothis?Itismydoing,SirHenry—allmine.HehasdonenothingexceptformysakeandbecauseIaskedhim.” “Speakout,then!Whatdoesitmean?” “Myunhappybrotherisstarvingonthemoor.Wecannotlethimperishatourverygates.Thelightisasignaltohimthatfoodisreadyforhim,andhislightoutyonderistoshowthespottowhichtobringit.” “Thenyourbrotheris—” “Theescapedconvict,sir—Selden,thecriminal.” “That’sthetruth,sir,”saidBarrymore.“IsaidthatitwasnotmysecretandthatIcouldnottellittoyou.Butnowyouhaveheardit,andyouwillseethatiftherewasaplotitwasnotagainstyou.” This,then,wastheexplanationofthestealthyexpeditionsatnightandthelightatthewindow.SirHenryandIbothstaredatthewomaninamazement.Wasitpossiblethatthisstolidlyrespectablepersonwasofthesamebloodasoneofthemostnotoriouscriminalsinthecountry? “Yes,sir,mynamewasSelden,andheismyyoungerbrother.Wehumouredhimtoomuchwhenhewasaladandgavehimhisownwayineverythinguntilhecametothinkthattheworldwasmadeforhispleasure,andthathecoulddowhathelikedinit.Thenashegrewolderhemetwickedcompanions,andthedevilenteredintohimuntilhebrokemymother’sheartanddraggedournameinthedirt.FromcrimetocrimehesanklowerandloweruntilitisonlythemercyofGodwhichhassnatchedhimfromthescaffoldbuttome,sir,hewasalwaysthelittlecurly-headedboythatIhadnursedandplayedwithasaneldersisterwould.Thatwaswhyhebrokeprison,sir.HeknewthatIwashereandthatwecouldnotrefusetohelphim.Whenhedraggedhimselfhereonenight,wearyandstarving,withthewardershardathisheels,whatcouldwedo?Wetookhiminandfedhimandcaredforhim.Thenyoureturned,sir,andmybrotherthoughthewouldbesaferonthemoorthananywhereelseuntilthehueandcrywasover,sohelayinhidingthere.Buteverysecondnightwemadesureifhewasstilltherebyputtingalightinthewindow,andiftherewasananswermyhusbandtookoutsomebreadandmeattohim.Everydaywehopedthathewasgone,butaslongashewastherewecouldnotdeserthim.Thatisthewholetruth,asIamanhonestChristianwomanandyouwillseethatifthereisblameinthematteritdoesnotliewithmyhusbandbutwithme,forwhosesakehehasdoneallthathehas.” Thewoman’swordscamewithanintenseearnestnesswhichcarriedconvictionwiththem. “Isthistrue,Barrymore?” “Yes,SirHenry.Everywordofit.” “Well,Icannotblameyouforstandingbyyourownwife.ForgetwhatIhavesaid.Gotoyourroom,youtwo,andweshalltalkfurtheraboutthismatterinthemorning.” Whentheyweregonewelookedoutofthewindowagain.SirHenryhadflungitopen,andthecoldnightwindbeatinuponourfaces.Farawayintheblackdistancetherestillglowedthatonetinypointofyellowlight. “Iwonderhedares,”saidSirHenry. “Itmaybesoplacedastobeonlyvisiblefromhere.” “Verylikely.Howfardoyouthinkitis?” “OutbytheCleftTor,Ithink.” “Notmorethanamileortwooff.” “Hardlythat.” “Well,itcannotbefarifBarrymorehadtocarryoutthefoodtoit.Andheiswaiting,thisvillain,besidethatcandle.Bythunder,Watson,Iamgoing
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