The Hound of the Baskervilles (1983)

(man) Know then the legend
of the Hound of the Baskervilles.
Know then that
the great hall of Baskervilles
was once held by Sir Hugo of that name.
A wild, profane, and godless man.
An evil man, in truth.
For there was with him
a certain ugly and cruel humor
that made his name
a byword in the county.
-Our friend learns swiftly.
-Aye.
He's already learned to fly like a wildfowl,
and now he swims like a waterfowl!
(laughter)
Shall we see how he roasts? Fetch him.
When the night is out, our friend'll know
not to condemn the sport of his masters.
-Come on. Out.
-Come on.
Here he comes, Sir Hugo.
Here he is, Sir Hugo.
Now our waterfowl
has become guinea fowl.
Guinea pig, more likely.
Bird or beast, we'll soon
make him sing like a nightingale.
Now, sir...
this may teach you
to criticize my pleasures.
If it were anyone but my daughter...
You should be proud that a Baskerville
should look at your miserable child.
(man screams)
(men shout)
No, no. The game was spoiled
before the wager was laid.
-Do not crowd me, sirs, I pray you.
-(shouting)
I will not pay.
The wager!
Well, if I must, I must.
But not in gold.
-In kind.
-Kind?
With a plaything I was keeping for myself.
I accept. Where is the girl?
Girl? What talk is this of a girl?
I know of no girl.
(all shout)
Enough! You shall see her at once,
before Sir Richard bursts with passion.
My lord, see to it that there be
no fighting among your herd of rams!
(thunder)
The bitch has got away.
What does she think I am that she
does this to me? Damn her! Damn her!
I have her now.
You there, let loose the pack!
And you, my hunter at the door!
-I'll set the hounds on her.
-But, Sir Hugo, you can't...
The hounds! Let loose the pack!
(hounds bark)
-I'll get her.
-You cannot do this.
I'll get her!
May the hounds of hell take me
if I can't hunt her down!
(barking)
(howling)
(hounds whimper)
Come on.
Come on, will you. What's the matter
with you? Come on, will you!
(horse whinnies)
(thunder)
You witch!
(girl screams)
(howling)
(snarling)
No.
No.
(hound chews noisily)
(man) And so, the curse of Sir Hugo
came upon the Baskervilles
in the shape of a hound from hell,
forever to bring misfortune
to the Baskerville family.
"Therefore, take heed,
and beware the moor in those dark hours
when evil is exalted, else you will
surely meet the hound of hell,
the Hound of the Baskervilles."
So ends the legend.
And what, may I ask,
do you think of that, Mr. Holmes?
Ah!
(chuckles)
There are hundreds of similar stories.
I fail to see why I should find
this one of singular interest.
-What do you say, Watson?
-Well...
I'm sure Dr. Mortimer's
intentions are for the best,
but there seems little to be
gained from what he's told us.
I had hoped that the facts I have given you
might have intrigued you as a detective.
I was obviously mistaken.
Good day to you, sir.
It was something more important that
brought you all the way from Devonshire.
Something that occurred
on Dartmoor on Friday 13 June.
You've...known about it all the time, then?
I know nothing.
Except that you live on Dartmoor,
you have the Devon County Chronicle
in your briefcase, dated June 14.
That paper is published on Saturdays.
You've kept it for something important.
There is nothing in the headlines,
so it must be in the stop press.
So whatever it was happened
on the Friday. Friday 13 June.
Remarkable.
Superficial. There's nothing remarkable
about using one's eyes.
Now, sir, would you be prepared
to give us the relevant facts?
Why, yes. Yes.
Under the circumstances, I think I would.
-Proceed.
-Thank you.
This is just the stop press.
"Devonshire knight found dead."
"The body of Sir Charles Baskerville
discovered on Dartmoor."
"Foul play not suspected."
Of course, the account in the next edition
is much fuller. Now, where are we?
Yes, here we are.
"The death of Sir Charles Baskerville
has caused much sadness in the small
village of Grimpen, Dartmoor."
"Dr. Richard Mortimer, a well-known
Devonshire personality, said..."
If you'll pardon me, Dr. Mortimer, I want
just the plain facts, in your own words.
Please.
Very well. The plain facts
of the matter are that a fortnight ago,
Sir Charles Baskerville was
found lying dead on the moor.
-Who found him?
-His servant Barrymore.
He and his wife are housekeepers
at Baskerville Hall.
He fetched me
and took me straight to the body.
Where was the body? On Dartmoor,
but exactly where? It's a very large place.
Near the abbey ruins up on the hill.
Not far from Baskerville Hall.
The place where
Sir Hugo died in the legend.
And the circumstances
were exactly the same.
You mean he had been attacked?
His throat had been torn out?
Oh, no, no, no, no.
No, the body was untouched.
But his face...
Never in all my medical career have I seen
such a look of horror on a dead person.
Sir Charles must have been
terrified when he died.
But he was alone.
The strange thing was
there were no footprints, Mr. Holmes.
That cannot be quite true. There were
Barrymore's, your own, and Sir Charles's.
Oh, yes, of course, but what I meant
to say was there were no other footprints.
Facts are only of value when they're
clear, concise and correct. Pray continue.
And there was another strange thing.
Sir Charles must have been tiptoeing
back to Baskerville Hall when he died.
I know because the footmarks
showed only the toes of his boots.
There were no heel marks.
I'm an archaeologist in my spare time, so
I'm used to looking for the extraordinary.
You have not told us what Sir Charles died
of. Before you do, I suggest heart failure.
The inquest found he died
of arteriosclerosis,
a disease of the coronary arteries.
A condition of the heart that
can lead to, er...heart failure.
Yes. I think it must be hereditary
with the Baskervilles.
They all seem to suffer
from the same weakness.
-Is there a successor to the family title?
-Yes. Sir Henry Baskerville.
He's due to arrive in London tonight
from Johannesburg.
Why have you come to me when you
really don't believe that I can help you?
-I don't think I know what you mean.
-I think you do.
Excuse me.
You know Sir Charles died naturally,
but you imply that he met a horrible death,
that he encountered this hound of hell,
the curse of the Baskervilles.
Do you believe that legend?
There are many things in life and death
that we do not understand.
You might have done better
to consult a priest, not a detective.
Do you imagine I can
influence the dark powers?
Of course not. But I thought you might
prevent Sir Henry going into danger.
If there is a curse on the family, it can be
as powerful in London as in Devonshire.
-Where will he be staying?
-At the Northumberland Hotel.
Does this mean you will investigate?
I have not said so.
My commitments are heavy.
I beg of you, Mr. Holmes.
This is a matter of life and death.
Well, there can be no harm done
by my seeing the man.
Shall we say 10 o'clock
tomorrow at the hotel?
Good. That will suit admirably.
Thank you, Mr. Holmes.
You will not find me ungenerous
in the matter of fees.
My professional charges
are upon a fixed scale.
I do not vary them, except when
I remit them altogether. Good day.
Good day, Mr. Holmes.
Thank you, Doctor.
Not at all, Doctor.
Good day, Dr. Watson.
Well...I must say, you never cease
to surprise me, Holmes.
You tear the man apart,
then say you'll help him.
You ought to know me better by now.
I had to deflate the man's pomposity
to find one significant clue.
I saw nothing significant in anything he
said. I'm surprised you bothered with him.
One important point did emerge. Didn't
you notice anything odd in what he said?
The only thing odd was that Sir Charles
was tiptoeing about Dartmoor in the night.
That's just it, Watson. Well done, my boy.
But he wasn't tiptoeing. He was running.
Running for his life.
Running in panic until he burst his heart.
Would you sort out a large-scale map
of Dartmoor, while I find more tobacco?
This, I think, is a two-pipe problem.
-(knocking at door)
-Come in!
So you finally managed to get here?
-I was not aware that we had kept you.
-I sent for you over 20 minutes ago.
Well, er, I think perhaps
you've made a mistake.
I've made a mistake, all right. The mistake
was in ever coming to this hotel.
What have you found out
about my other boot?
They were both here when I put them out
to be cleaned last night.
The porter, the maid, the boot boy-
nobody in this hotel of yours
knows where the other one's gone to.
You're the manager. Perhaps you'll tell me
just what you do with all your boots.
I'm a few minutes late, I'm afraid.
Those confounded horse buses.
I see you've made each other's
acquaintance, so let's get to business.
We have not been given a chance
to introduce ourselves.
I'm so sorry. Please let me. Sir Henry,
let me introduce Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
-Dr. Watson. Sir Henry Baskerville.
-I'm afraid you're a little late, Mortimer.
I've already managed
to make quite a fool of myself.
I must ask you to accept my apologies.
-Dr. Watson. Mr. Holmes.
-How do you do?
I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you.
Say no more. It was quite understandable.
Yes, indeed. I hope that
the missing boot will turn up very soon.
So do I. I can understand somebody
wanting to steal a pair of boots, but one...
-Well, that is...Please sit down.
-Thank you.
Now, Mr. Holmes.
Dr. Mortimer has no doubt explained
why he's asked us to come here.
He has, and I may as well tell you
I consider him to have been somewhat
hasty in asking for your advice.
I'm sure it was only
to protect your interests.
He told you of the legend
of the Hound of the Baskervilles?
Yes, but I don't attach any importance
to that old wives' tale.
A man after my own heart.
You intend to live at Baskerville Hall?
I've come a very long way to do exactly
that, and nothing is going to stop me.
-You can understand that, surely?
-I can indeed.
The estate must be worth
a vast amount of money. How much?
Forgive me if I ask a personal question.
-Of course.
-Well?
Well, when everything's settled up,
I suppose close on 1,000,000.
Did anyone else benefit
under Sir Charles's will?
Yes.
He left the Barrymores 1,000...
which I thought was rather too generous.
-And I myself received something.
-How much?
Come, Mr. Holmes.
Is this really necessary?
-I would not have asked otherwise.
-Very well.
He left me 40,000. But then, you see,
I was Sir Charles's best friend.
Were there no other relatives?
No.
Sir Henry is the last Baskerville. It's why
I'm anxious to safeguard his interests.
Very wise of you.
One thing is certain. On no account
must you go to Devonshire alone.
That's all taken care of.
Dr. Mortimer's coming with me.
Dr. Mortimer will have
his practice to attend to.
I can look after myself, Mr. Holmes.
I must impress upon you that I believe
your life to be in considerable danger.
If you attach so much importance to this,
why don't you come to Dartmoor today?
You can pack before the train leaves.
You're going today? I can't possibly leave
town until the end of the week at least.
Watson...you're free
at the moment, aren't you?
Well, yes, I am.
If you think I could do the job.
You're the very man for it. You'll go with
him. We'll keep in touch by telegram.
Sir Henry, I am not a man to overestimate
danger, but I must insist upon one thing.
Under no circumstances are you to
venture out onto the moor alone at night.
Very well. As things have gone as far
as this, I'll do as you say for the moment.
But I'm not yet convinced that I need
the services of a detective at all.
Unless it's to help me find my other boot.
Sir Henry...keep perfectly still...
if you value your life.
Move your head. Carefully.
I...can't.
You must!
-Leave it to me now, Holmes.
-No! Look after him!
Brandy, Mortimer, quick.
There you are.
-What a filthy thing. Horrible.
-You've had a lucky escape.
But we must make certain never
to be caught off our guard again.
Are you suggesting that thing
was put in there deliberately?
The powers of evil can take many forms.
Remember that, Sir Henry, when you're
at Baskerville Hall. Do as the legend tells,
and avoid the moor when
the forces of darkness are exalted.
Whoa, there!
You don't want us
to take you to the village?
It'll take you out of your way.
It's only a short walk across the moor.
-You'd be better off to go along with us.
-Kindly wait until you're spoken to.
Whatever you say, sir.
Don't blame me if you get your throat cut.
-What are you talking about, man?
-There's been an escape.
-An escape? When?
-Night before last. Man named Selden.
-Nasty customer from all accounts.
-What's all this about, Mortimer?
Forgive me. You wouldn't know about it.
One of our largest prisons, Dartmoor,
lies only seven miles across the moor.
It appears that
one of the prisoners has broken out.
Selden. Yes, I remember the case.
-He murdered a number of street women.
-I thought you hanged people for murder.
There was talk of him being insane, so
they sentenced him to life imprisonment.
It won't do him no good,
though, sir, escapin'.
He'll only starve himself to death.
Or somethin' worse.
What do you mean by that?
Why, nothing, sir. Just my foolishness.
Let us take you into the village.
He might be anywhere.
Don't you worry about me.
I can look after myself. Goodbye.
Goodbye.
-All right, Perkins.
-Hyah!
A curse upon the family. Unhappiness
and death to his descendants.
That's what he left, Sir Henry.
He certainly has a lot to answer for.
What about this one here?
That was another picture of Sir Hugo.
It disappeared mysteriously
some months back.
-It was stolen?
-In the middle of the night.
And what steps were taken to recover it?
Your uncle called in the police from
Exeter, but they could find no trace.
Well, one picture of that scoundrel's
more than enough.
-What do you say, Watson?
-Hm?
Oh, your glass is empty. Please.
You must be bored
by all this rigmarole about my family.
-You must think me a terrible host.
-No. I've found it extremely interesting.
Have you?
Well, it's very nice of you to say so.
-Barrymore.
-Sir?
Would you and your good wife
join me in a toast?
That's most kind of you, Sir Henry.
Let us drink to my first day
at Baskerville Hall.
And to my firm belief that
the family curse is nothing but a legend.
And that the hound of hell will never again
bring fear to those on the moor.
(glass smashes)
I must ask you to excuse
my wife's behavior, Sir Henry.
She was upset by Sir Charles's death.
Her nerves have been bad ever since.
I'm very sorry to hear that. Watson, can
you give her something for her nerves?
Yes. Yes, of course. I will.
Oh, er, Barrymore.
You've mentioned Sir Charles's death.
Perhaps you could tell us more about it.
You were the first to discover the body.
That's correct. It was terrible, sir.
I never saw such a dreadful look
on anybody's face before.
You found Sir Charles's body
up near the old abbey, I understand.
What made you go up there
to look for him?
I didn't, sir. I was on my way to tell Dr
Mortimer that he was missing, and then...
then I saw Sir Charles lying there, dead.
But what made you decide to go across
the moor to look for Sir Charles?
I've had a look at a map of the locality,
and it would have been quicker
to have taken the trap and gone by road.
There's a short cut across the moor, sir.
Barrymore...did you go across the moor
because you were half expecting to find
Sir Charles there? Because of the legend?
You know about the legend of
the Hound of the Baskervilles, don't you?
Do you believe it?
Do you really believe that
there is a creature out there?
I don't know what to believe, sir.
All I know is that I've heard it...
heard its terrible howl
on the night before Sir Charles died,
and I never want to hear
such a sound again in all my life.
(sobbing)
(sobbing stops)
(howling)
-Can I help you, sir?
-Oh, no, thank you.
It's got away. Oh, damnit,
I could have done with that.
Excellent specimen of Coleoptera scabus.
I collect them, you know.
-Why, it's Sir Henry, eh?
-It is.
Yes. The Baskerville mouth.
I could have recognized you anywhere,
even among the natives.
Frankland is the name. Frankland. Bishop
of the outer isles...for what they're worth.
-Glad to meet you. Won't you come in?
-Thank you.
Yes. How...how good. How very good to
see a new owner of Baskerville Hall, eh?
Oh, well, no. That's not quite
what I meant. Poor Sir Charles.
-Oh, what a splendid fellow he was.
-So you knew my uncle?
Knew him? My dear fellow,
we were the greatest friends.
How many times Sir Charles and I
have discussed life, you know. Yeah.
Over a glass of sherry.
In that case, perhaps you'd care
to join me in a glass of sherry.
Now you...mention sherry,
I...I think perhaps I might like a glass.
I saw Bishop Frankland
coming up the drive.
Barrymore! Oh!
Still the faithful retainer, eh? (chuckles)
Thank you.
-For you, Sir Henry?
-No, thank you.
It's the best sherry in Devon, I always say.
Sir Charles knew his creature comforts.
Seen him with some very attractive
creatures. Ahh, yes...Yes.
He knew a woman when he saw one,
did Sir Charles.
Yes. Poor fellow.
May he rest in peace.
What a loss.
Oh, do you know,
I think I should like another glass.
Watson, I don't think you've met the
bishop. Bishop Frankland, Dr. Watson.
How do you do?
Watson, you say the name is.
I knew a Watson in Capri.
A notorious white-slaver.
Nice fellow, though. Relation of yours?
Er, no, sir. Not that I know of.
But, of course, it is possible.
You've come to approve
the new lord of the manor?
I don't think that's necessary.
But why have I come?
-Yes, of course. The jumble sale.
-What on earth's that?
It's a colloquial expression, Sir Henry.
It's a sale of oddments. I was wondering if
you had anything you could spare for us.
An odd tablecloth or an old suit
or some cast-off silver.
-I'm sure I can. I'll ask Mrs. Barrymore.
-That's very kind of you.
May I give you the address
in which you could have them sent?
I'm sure we shall all be very grateful
to you, very grateful indeed,
if you'd have them sent there.
I...shan't apologize for the tract.
It's really rather charming.
-"All things bright and beautiful."
-Thank you.
I'm just going down to the village to leave
some instructions at the post office.
-If you'll excuse me, m'lord.
-Of course.
I'd give you a lift on the tricycle, but
I want a chat with Sir Henry. Well, bye.
Goodbye. I'm afraid
you'll be expected to open the sale,
and judge the prettiest mother and baby.
Do you know, dear old Sir Charles,
he loved doing that. Yeah. He did indeed.
I remember one occasion
when one of the babies...Wh...
Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh, dear.
Don't move! Stay where you are!
I said not to move, sir.
-You've no call to use that trap. It's cruel.
-A man's got to live, sir.
There are ways of killing animals without
torturing them. Why don't you use a gun?
Oh. I'm sorry.
Cartridges cost money.
Some of us haven't got much of that.
-It's a poor life on the moors, Sir Henry.
-I'm afraid you've made a mistake.
My name is Watson.
Though I am staying at Baskerville Hall.
-With Sir Henry?
-Yes.
When you see him, tell him his
neighbor would like to meet him.
I farm the lower pastures near the hall.
Have done for nearly a year.
-Poor land it is, too.
-What name is it?
Stapleton.
Very well. I'll tell Sir Henry.
I wonder, could you tell me how to get
to Baskerville Hall? I've lost my way.
-You bear right at the fork.
-Thank you.
Mr. Watson.
Don't step off the track or you'll be in
Grimpen Mire. And you'll never get out.
Mm.
Thank you.
(whistles)
Good morning.
I wonder, could you tell me,
am I on the right path to Baskerville Hall?
The track seems to end here.
Hey! Watch out! The mire!
Hey!
Hey, I say!
Hey!
Cecile! Come back!
Hold on!
Cecile! Cecile!
I'll teach you to come when you're called.
Get the cart as near as you can. Be quick.
Will you do as you're told, girl?
I told you to watch out!
-Who is that girl?
-My daughter.
-The moor's no place for a girl.
-What was she frightened of?
There's a convict escaped from
the prison. I'll help you to the cart.
Watch where I step.
Thank you. Now that you're here, would
you like to come in and see Sir Henry?
It's as good a time as any.
And how about Miss Stapleton?
Would she like to come in too?
She'll wait where she is.
Very well.
Well, good morning, Miss Stapleton.
Hello. If you're looking for the new owner,
you won't find him at home.
Go away!
I haven't introduced myself yet.
I'm Henry Baskerville. May I ask...?
Please, go away.
My father will be out in a moment.
Your father's gone into the hall?
Let's join him.
No! Don't!
Here! Here, wait a minute!
-Leave me alone!
-Just a minute! Calm down!
Now, why did you run away?
Come on. Why?
I've done nothing to frighten you.
-My father.
-What about your father?
-He would have seen us.
-Well, what of it?
Now, would you let me go?
Cecile!
Where have you been?
Come on, girl. Where have you been?
-Morning.
-Morning.
-Sir Henry Baskerville, isn't it?
-Yes.
I've been looking forward to meeting you.
I am Stapleton. Welcome to Dartmoor.
-You're very kind.
-I run the home farm.
You'll be very welcome whenever you're
that way. We must be getting on our way.
-Good day to you, sir.
-Good day, Mr. Stapleton.
Come on!
(sobbing)
Watson, here.
Move the candle about. Quickly.
I swear I saw a light out there on the moor
as soon as you picked up the candle.
There's someone out there
signalling to the house. Come on.
Whatever happens, Sir Henry,
you must stay with me.
-We're still in line with the light.
-We're not near enough yet.
Keep close to me. Don't go off to the left
or you'll be in Grimpen Mire.
Right. Come on.
Come out! We're armed!
They've gone.
Whoever they are,
they must have heard us.
Watson!
Come on! There's still a chance!
Quiet. Listen.
He's down there somewhere.
(howling)
What was that, Watson? What was that?
It's my heart.
Drink some of this.
Will you be able to get back if I help you?
-I'll try.
-Come on, then.
(Mortimer) That is for me to decide. I
suggest you have a little rest. Good night.
(Sir Henry)
Good night.
I really don't know why
you bothered to send for me, Watson.
As a doctor,
you're just as capable as I am.
Does your diagnosis confirm mine?
He has a similar heart condition
to his uncle. Hereditary, no doubt.
But nowhere near so far advanced.
All the same, I'd like to leave him
in your charge until I get back.
If you insist. Anyway,
my night's sleep is ruined.
-But I really can't see that it's necessary.
-I'd appreciate it if you would stay.
It's essential that I go back to the moor.
All right. I'll stay.
(door creaks)
Why have you left Sir Henry alone?
Holmes!
I repeat...why have you
left Sir Henry alone?
-Dr. Mortimer is with him.
-Anyone else?
Yes. The Barrymores.
Very well, then. Forgive me if my dramatic
entrance startled you. It's good to see you.
-It's been rather lonely out here.
-How long have you been in Devon?
Four hours and 52 minutes less than you.
I caught the next train down after yours.
But your telegram!
I wrote that before I left
and had it delivered later.
So it was you I saw. Well, you might have
let me know what you intended to do.
I'm sorry. I didn't want it known I was
here. You would have tried to prevent me.
You will understand I had to find Selden.
Selden? The convict? That was madness.
No doubt. But effectual.
-How did you know he was on the moor?
-I read about it in the newspapers.
It was well reported.
I'm surprised you didn't notice it.
He told me all he had seen
since he's been hiding.
Well, what had he seen?
What did he tell you?
There is more evil around us here
than I have ever encountered before.
-Well, I still don't see...
-(howling)
Mortimer's gone. His pony cart's not
there. You told him to stay with Sir Henry.
-Well, indeed I did.
-(snarling and screaming)
Which way?
For heaven's sake, which way?
(screaming)
(snarling)
Too late.
-We're too late.
-Sir Henry.
Watch out, Holmes. It's treacherous here.
We must go back and get help,
then come back for the body.
I'm to blame for this.
I shall never forgive myself.
I warned him! What could have possessed
him to come out alone on the moor?
The last of the Baskervilles.
His life was in our hands.
I shall not rest until I destroy
the thing that killed him.
(loud knocking)
-You're Barrymore, I take it.
-Yes, sir.
Barrymore, I want you to get a ladder,
some rope and lanterns,
and have them loaded on the cart
in five minutes. Do you understand?
-Yes, sir.
-Good.
-Watson, where's your room?
-This way.
And have those attended to, will you?
Very good, sir.
I'll trouble you for boots
and a coat before we go out again.
Yes, of course.
Holmes, I can't help feeling that if I hadn't
gone out and left Sir Henry alone...
We've to avenge his death,
not mourn over it.
No.
No.
Who's there?
Holmes. For heaven's sake, when did
you get here? I am glad to see you again.
And I am more than
glad to see you, Sir Henry.
Who was it, Holmes? Who was
the poor devil that died instead of me?
Well, if my deductions are correct,
it was the convict, Selden.
Even a murderer shouldn't die
in such a fashion.
But why him? The curse is only
on the Baskervilles. Is no one safe?
Selden had on the suit you were wearing
in London. How did he get them?
-He must have broken in and stolen them.
-Possibly, but unlikely.
Sir Henry, why did Dr. Mortimer
leave so suddenly tonight?
He told me he'd stay until I got back.
Stupid row, really.
He kept on about my uncle's death
and the curse on the family.
I asked if he was trying to frighten me
and told him to mind his own business.
I should like a few words
with Dr. Mortimer.
Sir Henry, is there
anything else you require?
No, thank you.
Not as far as I'm concerned.
-You prepared a room for Mr. Holmes?
-Yes, sir.
Will you still be needing the ladder
and rope you asked for tonight, sir?
No. Not now. But I shall want them,
and your help, first thing in the morning.
-Very good, sir.
-Oh, Barrymore.
That room at the end of the corridor
upstairs, has it been used lately?
-Not for some time, sir.
-I see.
You'll find a candle burning
near the window in that room.
Would you kindly extinguish it?
It's serving no useful purpose.
-Very good, sir.
-Thank you.
Now, with your permission, to bed.
Yes. Yes, we could all
do with a good night's sleep.
This, I perceive, is Sir Hugo Baskerville,
the man who started all the trouble.
-Yes, it is. How the devil did you know?
-Family likeness.
Certain features are unmistakable.
What happened to this picture?
Nobody knows.
It disappeared some time ago.
Oh, yes. Yes, of course, it had to.
Stupid of me. Hm.
Yes, well, good night.
Well, that's strange. There's nothing there.
I could have sworn that that was the spot.
Well, it must be more over this way.
No, Watson. You were right.
This was the place. Look at this.
Here's another trace.
And another.
You can see where they're leading to.
-Barrymore!
-Sir?
Tell Perkins to bring the cart to the ruins
as near as he can. Follow us.
We won't find the body down here.
By heavens,
what's been going on here, Holmes?
The Baskerville crest engraved on the hilt.
Mr. Holmes!
As I thought. Selden.
His body's been mutilated.
Some revolting sacrificial rite
has been performed.
What depths a human being can sink to.
What human being could have done this?
That is precisely what I intend to find out.
-You rang for me, sir?
-I did, Mrs. Barrymore. Sit down, please.
-No, thank you, sir. I prefer to stand.
-As you wish.
I want to ask you and your husband
a few questions, if you don't mind.
-How long have you been married?
-Married?
-Must be almost five years now.
-Is that right, Miss Selden?
Yes, sir. We got married abou...
Please, sit down.
Your name was Selden
before you married.
The convict who escaped
was your brother.
-How did you know?
-You brother told me.
-He's dead, sir, isn't he?
-Yes, I'm afraid he is.
-How did it happen?
-You gave Selden Sir Henry's clothes.
Well, I...
Someone...or something...
mistook your brother for Sir Henry.
You mustn't blame my husband, sir.
I gave him the clothes.
Sir Henry said I might
take them for the village sale.
Why should they have them? My brother
was out on the moor, cold and hungry.
Thank you, sir.
Oh, I-I-I know he was bad, sir,
but he was ill, really.
And he was my brother, and...you can't
leave someone you love out there,
cold and starving.
I understand.
It might help you to know he told me he
would never let them recapture him alive.
Come along, my dear.
Poor woman.
I suppose when Sir Henry and I arrived
she found it difficult to get food to him.
Yes. They arranged a signal, a candle at
the window, to show the coast was clear.
Couldn't they be charged with
helping an escaped convict?
They could, but they won't.
I've satisfied the local police.
What's the next move?
"All things bright and beautiful,
all creatures great and small."
-I wonder if that includes tarantulas.
-Tarantulas?
But, Holmes...
-A gentleman to see you, my lord.
-Oh, good. Good. And just in time.
I'm still having trouble with it, you know.
Will you have a look at it?
Of course, I'm not an engineering man,
but it seems to me that
this eccentric is malaligned.
Or...or perhaps if this cam
were buffed to another thou or so,
it might make all the difference,
don't you think? Or perhaps a shim.
-Graphite grease.
-What?
Oh! Of course! Well, I have got some.
Do you know, I never thought of it.
-Allow me.
-Oh, thank you.
Yes. Silly of me.
-Here.
-Thank you.
There you are. You'll want that.
Yes. Ah. Now, let's see...
Wonderful! Wonderful.
That's done the trick.
I wish Mrs. Goodlippe would leave
those windows alone. Well, never mind.
-You'll take a glass of sherry.
-Bishop Frankland...
Oh, nonsense. A little wine for your
stomach's sake. That's in the Bible.
I think you'll like this. What do I owe for
your trouble, and your fare from Exeter?
You've mistaken me for someone else.
Only somebody from Warburton and
Crawley could have solved that problem.
-I am not from Warburton and Crawley.
-Not?
My name is Sherlock Holmes.
I'm staying with Sir Henry Baskerville.
Allow me to shake the hand
of the country's greatest detective.
That case of the Bermondsey forgery
was a first-class piece of work.
And you are the country's
most distinguished entomologist.
-You've heard of me? Oh, how flattering!
-Rectors of Regent's Park Zoo regard you
as the highest living authority
on the study of rare spiders.
Spiders?
It is about that subject
that I've come to see you.
-The species of the genus Theraphosa.
-Tarantula. Mm. Dear me.
Everybody's asking me
about tarantulas these days.
No, I'm...afraid I can't
help you on that subject.
How very disappointing.
Because I found one.
Found one? Have you, by Jove?
Dead, fortunately.
Oh. Pity. Never mind. Where did you find
it? Somewhere in the village, no doubt.
-No. In London.
-Oh. Up there.
Nevertheless,
it was the same spider that you lost.
No, impossible. Far too far away. I...
Are you suggesting that I've lost a spider?
I'm afraid I am. You have, haven't you?
You lost a spider sent to you
from London Zoo about five days ago.
-Are you interested in butterflies?
-My lord, I must insist.
Will it help if I tell you I am fighting evil?
Fighting it as surely as you do.
Oh, yes, very well. I did lose a tarantula.
I missed it last Thursday. I've been
worried out of my life. They're dangerous.
So I understand. But you needn't worry
any longer. The spider is dead.
It is important that you
answer this correctly.
What visitors did you have
on the day you missed the tarantula?
Well, that's difficult,
because Thursday's my at-home day.
A lot of people like to look in
for a sherry and a chat.
Let me see. There was old Mrs. Smythe.
Poor woman. Drinks. Oh! Yes...
Dr. Mortimer before lunch.
Oh, dear old Mortimer, how he talks!
The Stapletons to tea. Er...
Oh, yes, the man about
the woodworm in the belfry.
Fascinating little creatures.
But the church is full of them.
-I'm sorry to hear that. The man's name?
-Smith, I think.
-And no one else?
-Last Thursday? No.
Thank you. That is all I wish to know. It's
been most kind of you and most helpful.
And thank you for helping me
with my telescope.
-Not at all.
-Oh, a remarkable instrument.
It's surprising what you can see
through a good telescope.
What's going on in the big world, eh?
There's Sir Henry. Where's he off to?
Oh, dear me. This is very interesting.
Come and have a look. Come on. Come
on. Come here. Come and have a look.
Well, he...he's gone.
Anybody at home?
Mr. Stapleton?
Why did you come here?
I'm sorry. You must think me very rude.
But I did knock.
-I've come to see your father.
-He's gone to Baskerville Hall.
Has he? May I ask why?
To invite you and your friends
to dinner tonight.
That's very kind of him.
-Would you like some cider?
-Thank you very much. I would.
What time are we expected to arrive?
Do you mean you will come?
I'm looking forward to it.
It won't be like Baskerville Hall.
I haven't spent all my life at
Baskerville Hall, Cecile. I like your home.
This is not my home.
My home is in Spain.
You were looking at
the picture of my parents.
My mother was a fine woman.
A fine Spanish woman. She would
hear nothing of living in England.
She was born in Spain, and there
she would die, she said. And she did die.
We came here to England.
My father spent
all the money we had saved
to come back to England to become
a gentleman farmer in his own country.
But the land he bought is no good.
The money's gone.
We have a saying at home.
"Hierba mala nunca muere."
"Weeds are not killed by the frost."
-We still live.
-Have you ever thought of going back?
I've thought of nothing else. But my
father's too proud to admit he's beaten.
Proud. Of this!
And so we are left
with the moor and the mist.
-You must be very lonely.
-Yes, I am very lonely.
When you are poor,
no one wants to know you.
I want to know you, Cecile.
Why did you run away from me
yesterday...when we had hardly met?
Why did you kiss me, Cecile?
Why?
I don't know.
-Tell me.
-I don't know. I don't know!
Will you meet me tonight? At the hall?
We can walk back across the moor.
If you want me to.
Our paths seem to have crossed
this morning, Sir Henry.
I suppose you've come to talk about
the farm. And you have cider. Good.
Cecile, fetch another tankard for me.
Quickly about it, girl.
Do sit down, Sir Henry.
Thank you.
I was wondering if you and your guests
would care to join us for a meal tonight.
Your daughter's already told me.
I'd be very pleased to.
And so will Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson.
Good. It'll be a change
for us to have visitors.
Your health, sir.
How can you be so certain that somebody
took one of the bishop's spiders
and deliberately placed it in Sir Henry's
room? That it wasn't in his luggage?
Elementary, my dear Watson.
There are no tarantulas in South Africa.
-Whoever placed it there didn't know that.
-Precisely.
He did know when and where Sir Henry
was arriving, and where he'd be staying.
He also knew a great deal
about the Baskerville family.
A bite from a tarantula is not
necessarily deadly to a healthy man.
-But to a man with a weak heart...
-That indicates it's somebody local.
Why not? There's an excellent
train service to and from London.
As Sir Charles died here, it would be less
suspicious if Sir Henry died in London.
Sir Charles.
I'd almost forgotten about him.
It was a good thing
I remembered, wasn't it?
But the person who benefited most
from Sir Charles's will was Sir Henry.
You're not suggesting he killed his uncle?
1,000,000 is a great temptation. In this
case everyone is suspect, even Sir Henry.
Dr. Mortimer was the only one who knew
where Sir Henry was staying in London.
-And when he was arriving.
-Oh, no. No.
The London Times
would have published it.
What about the legend of the hound of
hell? We've seen something of its horror.
Watson! You inspire me!
Let me see your map quickly.
Selden swore its cries came from the very
depths of the Earth- the hound of hell.
Let me see...
Really! I must pull myself together.
I should have noticed this long ago.
Ah, Holmes.
Barrymore told me you'd arrived.
About time, if I may say so, considering
what happened to that convict last night.
A development I deeply regret.
Well, I don't.
A man like that deserves all he gets.
If you're wondering why I'm here,
I've just come over to start
looking through the family estates.
I think I'm wasting my time, if you ask me.
You know, really, Holmes, I find it
quite impossible to get on with Sir Henry.
You had a disagreement
with him last night.
The fellow was downright rude,
if that's what you mean.
Hardly an excuse to leave
someone alone when he's in danger.
You told me you'd stay with
Sir Henry until I got back.
What if I did? I don't see why I should be
insulted by the man I'm trying to protect.
After all, I only mentioned the legend.
You are very fond of doing that,
Dr. Mortimer. Why?
You discovered the existence
of the legend, didn't you?
Mr. Holmes, when I engaged you, I looked
to you to protect Sir Henry's interests.
I'm beginning to see, for the first time
in my life, I was wrong in my judgement.
-Relinquish the case...
-I never relinquish a case!
-Mr. Holmes...
-Please, don't let us fall out at this stage.
I need your help. Unfortunately.
You know a great deal of the geography
and the history of this district, I believe.
I am considered
something of an authority.
There is an old tin mine marked here
on the map. Does it still exist?
I believe so. What of it?
It's been derelict for years.
I rather fear this map will be out of date.
Could you show me to the entrance?
What on earth for?
Could you?
I'm afraid not.
I haven't been near there for years.
Perhaps Stapleton can help you.
It lies under his ground.
If he agreed to show me,
would you come with us?
I suggest that you stay away
from the mine, Mr. Holmes.
It hasn't been in use for a long time,
and is in a dangerous condition.
And how do you know that if you haven't
been near there for years? Hm?
It's obvious. Any kind of tunnelling
is dangerous if it isn't in good repair.
I must take a look at it.
Will you come with me?
As an archaeologist,
your help will be invaluable.
If you make an issue of it
I'll have to come.
Good. Good man.
-What do you want me to do?
-Identify anything I find.
Strange things are to be found
on the moor. Like this, for instance!
-Where did you find that?
-Interesting, isn't it?
Could you tell me how old it is?
Well, I'm not sure. About 1700, I imagine.
-1740, to be exact. How old is the blood?
-I couldn't tell.
Then I will tell you.
It is less than ten hours old.
Could you tell me anything else
about the weapon?
No?
Oh, come, come. With your knowledge
of the legend, I made certain you'd know.
This is the dagger Sir Hugo
used to murder the girl in the abbey.
And more recently it has been used
for some diabolical ceremony.
All right, Watson.
We're all down quite safely.
Good. I'll be waiting for you here.
I don't expect we shall be very long.
You'd both better follow
close behind me for the moment.
Watch your step.
It's very slippery down here.
The water seeps through from the mire.
Don't touch any of the props, whatever
you do. You'll have the roof down on us.
We should never have come down here.
It's far too dangerous.
What do you expect to find, Mr. Holmes?
What is one likely to find
under the ground? Bones, perhaps.
This is dangerous. You carry on,
Mr. Holmes, while we chock the wheels.
-Certainly.
-Here you are.
Thank you.
We won't need to go any further.
I've found what I came down for.
(howling)
No good, Watson?
Leave the lanterns there, Mr. Stapleton.
We must go back
to the village and get help.
I'm afraid it won't do no good, sir.
Must be a ton of rock blocking that shaft.
Well, we must try.
Resign yourself to the fact there's not
the slightest hope that he's alive.
-Don't you agree, Stapleton?
-You know as much about it as I do.
It's over two hours since the roof fell.
We haven't heard a sound.
Not likely to with all that rock in front
of us. That don't mean he's not alive.
There's plenty of air in that mine.
Comes in from them ventilatin' shafts.
Couldn't we get down one of them?
I wouldn't like to say. I doubt there's
a man as knows them entrances.
We must try to find one. Mr. Stapleton,
lead us back to the path immediately.
I did warn him not to go. You were there.
You heard me, didn't you, Watson?
-There's still a chance.
-A very good chance.
-I've been sitting here for ten minutes.
-Holmes!
-Thank heaven you're safe.
-How did you get out? This is wonderful.
Most gratifying. When the applause has
died down, could we get back to the hall?
I've hurt my leg, I'm cold, and I'm hungry.
Will you stop behaving
like a maiden aunt?
If I hadn't known there were a number
of entrances, I shouldn't have gone down.
-But for a wretched old beef bone.
-It is not a wretched old beef bone.
-That's the point. It's relatively new.
-But...
No buts. Would you mind
please passing me my tobacco?
-Where is it?
-In the top right-hand drawer.
An unopened tin.
-You must have put it somewhere else.
-The right-hand top drawer.
-I'm looking in the right-hand top drawer.
-Isn't it there?
I've just told you it isn't there.
-Mm. Here it is.
-Just a minute.
I know I put it there this morning.
The bottom drawer, where I put
the dagger, is it still locked?
No. Holmes, the lock's been forced.
-The dagger's not there.
-(knocking)
Watson.
-Well, how's the leg feeling now?
-Not very good.
I'm sorry to hear that. Stapleton has asked
the three of us over for a meal tonight.
-Oh, has he?
-Yes. I thought it was a very nice gesture.
I don't suppose you'll feel like going,
with your leg the way it is.
-No. I don't.
-They'll be very disappointed.
And Cecile is waiting for me downstairs.
I wouldn't dream of going without you.
My dear Sir Henry, if you'd really
wanted us to come with you,
you'd have told us about the invitation
much sooner than this.
-I beg your pardon?
-Don't be late for your peasant friends.
-I don't like that, Holmes.
-I don't like the people you're mixing with.
I should have thought you'd have
cultivated worthier friends.
I hope you enjoy their rabbit pie.
Mr. Holmes, I appreciate the fact
that you are here to help me.
Nevertheless, I would remind you
that you are also a guest in my house.
-Good night.
-Good night.
-Well...I do think you might have...
-Watson, do stop talking nonsense.
Couldn't you see I was being purposely
rude? I wanted him to go without us.
The dagger's gone. Don't you realize what
that means? Sir Henry is to die tonight.
Are you sure your leg is all right?
It has to be to break the curse
he laid on the Baskervilles.
-Holmes?
-Yes?
You learnt something
from that portrait that I never saw.
The hands. This painting was stolen
because the artist revealed both hands.
Barrymore confirmed what I suspected.
The fingers of Sir Hugo's
right hand were webbed.
-Stapleton!
-Exactly. Stapleton.
Illegitimate descendant of Sir Hugo-
next in line to the Baskerville fortune.
(Holmes grunts)
-No. This way.
-This is the way to the farm.
Come on.
Swine.
You thought it was going to be easy,
didn't you? Didn't you?
You won't be the first
of your family who thought that.
And you won't be the first
to die because of it.
Remember the legend?
Sir Hugo died here.
His throat was torn out because of a girl.
And Sir Charles, your dear uncle,
he died here, didn't he?
Died because he wanted me, like you.
Died because he wanted a woman enough
to bring me here alone at night.
In spite of the Hound of the Baskervilles.
He died screaming.
I know. I watched him.
And now you are here. Alone.
At night. You don't understand, do you?
Then let me explain. I too am
a Baskerville. Descended from Sir Hugo.
Descended from those who died in
poverty while you scum ruled the moor.
We waited and prayed
for this moment, my father and I.
Now our time has come, and yours.
The curse of the hound is on you.
(howling)
(snarling)
(hound yelps)
No, Watson! She won't get far.
Attend to Sir Henry.
All right.
All right, Sir Henry. The hound is dead.
-And you must see it.
-No, I...
It is best that you should.
There is nothing to fear now.
There's a passage
from the mine to this place.
I discovered it after
Stapleton tried to kill me down there.
They used this mask
to make it look more terrifying.
It was starved for weeks, kept down the
mine till it was time, then given the scent.
They had to have something
of yours to give the hound.
We'd better get Sir Henry back to
Baskerville Hall. Have you got your cape?
Would you get it for him?
(screaming)
-So the curse has claimed its last victim.
-Yes.
No more will be heard
of the Hound of the Baskervilles.
(Sir Henry) I feel I have already suffered
enough from my infamous ancestor.
"I am sending you the missing portrait,
which we found at Stapleton's farm,
to add to your famous
collection of souvenirs."
"I hope you will accept it.
Also, the check which I enclose for..."
Mm-hm! Very generous.
After tea, you must write to Sir Henry and
tell him I'm pleased to accept both gifts.
Tell me, Holmes, when did you first
suspect the truth about this case?
The truth?
Yes, that the hound was a real dog,
and not just a legendary myth.
Ah.
When Sir Henry complained of a missing
boot, that put me on the scent, as it were.
Well, as early as that.
It's incredible.
Elementary, my dear Watson. Elementary.
Muffin?
Oh, thank you.