estate. When he went to
Devonshire his plans were, I believe, exceedingly hazy, but that he meant
mischief from the first is evident from the way in which he took his wife with
him in the character of his sister. The idea of using her as a decoy was clearly
already in his mind, though he may not have been certain how the details of his
plot were to be arranged. He meant in the end to have the estate, and he was
ready to use any tool or run any risk for that end. His first act was to
establish himself as near to his ancestral home as he could, and his second was
to cultivate a friendship with Sir Charles Baskerville and with the neighbours.
    The baronet himself told him about the family hound, and so prepared the way
for his own death. Stapleton, as I will continue to call him, knew that the old
man's heart was weak and that a shock would kill him. So much he had learned
from Dr. Mortimer. He had heard also that Sir Charles was superstitious and had
taken this grim legend very seriously. His ingenious mind instantly suggested a
way by which the baronet could be done to death, and yet it would be hardly
possible to bring home the guilt to the real murderer.
    Having conceived the idea he proceeded to carry it out with considerable
finesse. An ordinary schemer would have been content to work with a savage
hound. The use of artificial means to make the creature diabolical was a flash
of genius upon his part. The dog he bought in London from Ross and Mangles, the
dealers in Fulham Road. It was the strongest and most savage in their
possession. He brought it down by the North Devon line and walked a great
distance over the moor so as to get it home without exciting any remarks. He had
already on his insect hunts learned to penetrate the Grimpen Mire, and so had
found a safe hiding-place for the creature. Here he kennelled it and waited his
chance.
    But it was some time coming. The old gentleman could not be decoyed outside
of his grounds at night. Several times Stapleton lurked about with his hound,
but without avail. It was during these fruitless quests that he, or rather his
ally, was seen by peasants, and that the legend of the demon dog received a new
confirmation. He had hoped that his wife might lure Sir Charles to his ruin, but
here she proved unexpectedly independent. She would not endeavour to entangle
the old gentleman in a sentimental attachment which might deliver him over to
his enemy. Threats and even,