o can dos baskerville

Sir Henry had to assure him that it was not so and pacify him by giving him a considerable part of his old wardrobe, the London outfit having now all arrived. Mrs. Barrymore is of interest to me. She is a heavy, solid person, very limited, intensely respectable, and inclined to be puritanical. You could hardly conceive a less emotional subject. Yet I have told you how, on the first night here, I heard her sobbing bitterly, and since then I have more than once observed traces of tears upon her face. Some deep sorrow gnaws ever at her heart.

Sometimes I wonder if she has a guilty memory which haunts her, and sometimes I suspect Barrymore of being a domestic tyrant. I have always felt that there was something singular and questionable in this man’s character, but the adventure of last night brings all my suspicions to a head.

And yet it may seem a small matter in itself. You are aware that I am not a very sound sleeper, and since I have been on guard in this house my slumbers have been lighter than ever. Last night, about two in the morning, I was aroused by a stealthy step passing my room. I rose, opened my door, and peeped out. A long black shadow was trailing down the corridor. It was thrown by a man who walked softly down the passage with a candle held in his hand. He was in shirt and trousers, with no covering to his feet. I could merely see the outline, but his height told me that it was Barrymore. He walked very slowly and circumspectly, and there was something indescribably guilty and furtive in his whole appearance. I have told you that the corridor is broken bythe balcony which runs round the hall, but that it is resumed upon the farther side. I waited until he had passed out of sight and then I followed him. When I came round the balcony he had reached the end of the farther corridor, and I could see from the glimmer of light through an open door that he had entered one of the rooms. Now, all these rooms are unfurnished and unoccupied, so that his expedition became more mysterious than ever. The light shone steadily as if he were standing motionless. I crept down the passage as noiselessly as I could and peeped round the corner of the door.

Barrymore was crouching at the window with the candle held against the glass. His profile was half turned towards me, and his face seemed to be rigid with expectation as he stared out into the blackness of the moor. For some minutes he stood watching intently. Then he gave a deep groan and with an impatient gesture he put out the light. Instantly I made my way back to my room, and very shortly came the stealthy steps passing once more upon their return journey. Long afterwards when I had fallen into a light sleep I heard a key turn somewhere in a lock, but I could not tell whence sound came. What it all means I cannot guess, but there is some secret business going on in  this house of gloom which sooner or later we shall get to the bottom of. I do not trouble you with my theories, for you asked me to furnish you only with facts. I have had a long talk with Sir Henry this morning, and we have made a plan of campaign founded upon my observations of last night. I will not speak about it just now, but it should make my next report interesting reading.

The hound of the Baskerville

Arthur Conan Doyle

 1902 George Newnes

O can dos Baskerville

traducido por Bieito Iglesias e Manuel Vázquez

Blibioteca Sherlock Holmes, Editorial Galaxia. 

Sir Henry procurou tranquilizalo e, para darlle unha mostra de aprecio, regaloulle boa parte das prendas do seu gardarroupa, posto que xa recibira o novo vestiario encargado en Londres.

Debo confesarlle que a señora Barrynore esperta a miña curiosidade. É unha muller sólida como un castelo, ruda de miolos, moi digna e inclinada ó puritanismo. Non se pode imaxinar persoa menos emotiva. E, sen embargo, xa lle contei que a oín impar amargamente a primeira noite que pasei en Baskerville e, dende entón, noteille os ollos chorosos en máis dunha ocasión. Non hai dúbida de que algunha pena moi fonda lle manca a alma. Unhas veces pregúntome se non a perseguirá un recordo culpable e outras dáme por pensar que Barrymore é un tirano doméstico. Sempre intuín que había recantos escuros no carácter dese home, pero a aventura de onte á noite veu confirmar todas as miñas sospeitas.

Considerado en si mesmo, o incidente pode parecer trivial. Vostede ben sabe que sempre tiven o sono lixeiro, e non lle digo nada dende que monto garda nesta casa. Na madrugada de onte, aí polas dúas da mañá, espertáronme uns pasos furtivos diante do meu cuarto. Erguinme, abrín a porta e vin unha sombra, negra e alongada, que se arrastraba polo corredor. Un home vestido coa camisa e os pantalóns, pero cos pés descalzos, camiñaba silandeiro, alumeándose cunha vela. Nada máis percibín a silueta, pero pola súa estatura souben que era Barrymore. Andaba con pés de la, e na súa actitude había un algo de culpable e fuxidío.

Xa lle expliquei que o corredor está cortado por unha galería que rodea o alto do vestíbulo e continúa polo outro lado. Esperei a que desaparecera da miña vista e, despois, seguino. Cando rodeei a galería e xa alcanzara o extremo da prolongación do corredor, a luz que saía dunha porta indicoume que penetrara nun cuarto. O feito de que as estancias desta parte da casa estean sen amoblar e permanezan desocupadas, aínda tornaba máis misteriosa aquela expedición nocturna. A luz fixa deume a entender que o home non se movía do sitio, e iso animoume a avanzar polo corredor a modo, co maior sixilo, ata poder guichar dende a porta entreaberta.

Barrymore estaba anicado onda a xanela, coa vela na man, en alto, próxima ó cristal. O se rostro, medio volto cara a min, permitiumeapreciar a tensa espectativa con que axexaba as negruras da chaira. Espreitou uns minutos e,entón, deixando escapar un xemido lastimoso, apagou a luz con aceno de impaciencia. Eu apresureime a regresar ao meu cuarto e, deseguida, oín de novo os pasos silandeiros que desandaban o corredor. Máis tarde, cando xa lograra conciliar un sono lixeiro, fun outra vez espertado polo ruído dunha chave a furgar nunha pechadura, anque non sabería decir de onde proviña. Polo momento, son incapaz de aventurar un significado para todos estos incidentes,pero restan poucas dúbidas de que sobre o lúgubre Solar dos Baskerville paira un misterio que, antes ou despois, desvelaremos. Tampouco quero amolalo coas miñas teorías, pois teño moi presente que vostede me solicitou un relato fiel dos feitos. Esta maña sostiven unha longa conversa con sir Henry, na que trazamos un palno de campaña fundado nas mias observacións de onte á noite. Non é do caso adiantarllo agora, pero esta seguro de que, cando menos, áservir para tornar máis ameno o próximo relatorio.