The Hound of the Baskervilles Page #2

Synopsis: Returning to his family's manor house on the lonely moors after his father dies under mysterious circumstances, Sir Henry Baskerville is confronted with the mystery of the supernatural hound that supposedly takes revenge upon the Baskerville family. The famous detective Sherlock Holmes and his assistant Dr. Watson are brought in to investigate.
Genre: Horror, Mystery
Director(s): Terence Fisher
Production: United Artists
 
IMDB:
7.0
Rotten Tomatoes:
94%
NOT RATED
Year:
1959
87 min
978 Views


by my seeing the man.

Shall we say 10:
00 tomorrow

morning, 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.

I must say, you never cease

to surprise me, Holmes.

First you tear him apart, and

then you say you'll help him.

My dear Watson, you ought

to know me better.

I had to burst the balloon,

deflate his pomposity

to find one significant clue.

I saw nothing of significance

in anything he said.

I'm surprised you

bothered with him.

Nevertheless, one important

point did emerge.

Didn't you notice anything

odd in what he said?

The only thing I noticed was

that he said Sir Charles

was tiptoeing about

Dartmoor at 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 mind sorting out a

large-scale map of Dartmoor...

while I find some more tobacco.

This, I think, is a two-pipe problem.

Come in.

So you finally managed to get here.

I didn't know we'd kept you.

Kept me? I sent for you

over 20 minutes ago.

- I think perhaps you've made a mistake.

- I've made a mistake, all right.

The mistake I made was in

ever coming to this hotel.

What did you find out

about my other boot?

They were both here last night.

But nobody knows: 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 what

you do with all your boots.

I'm a few minutes late, I'm afraid.

Those confounded horse buses.

However, I see you've all met, we

might as well get down to business.

We have not been given an

opportunity 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.

Gentlemen, I must ask you

to accept my apologies.

Dr. Watson. Mr. Holmes.

- How do you do?

- Glad to meet you both.

- 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?

There it is.

- Please, sit down, gentlemen.

- Why, 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 your advice.

Surely, it was only to

protect your interests.

He has told you of the legend of

the hound of the Baskervilles?

Yes, but I don't attach any importance

to that sort of old wives' tale.

A man after my own heart.

You intend to go down to Devonshire

and live at Baskerville Hall?

I've already 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.

Exactly how much, Dr. Mortimer?

You will forgive me if I ask

a very personal question?

- Of course.

- Well?

When everything's settled up,

I suppose, close on 1 million.

Did anyone else benefit

under Sir Charles' will?

Yes. He left the

Barrymores 1,000...

which I thought was

rather generous...

and I myself received something.

- How much?

- Is this really necessary?

I would not have asked, otherwise.

Very well.

He left me 40,000.

Then, you see, I was Sir

Charles' best friend.

- Were there no other relatives?

- No.

Sir Henry is the last

of the Baskervilles.

That's why I'm anxious to

safeguard his interests.

Very wise of you.

One thing is certain, Sir Henry.

On no account must you go

down to Devonshire alone.

That's 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.

Now, look, if you attach so

much importance to this...

why don't you come down to

Dartmoor with me 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?

- Yeah.

You're free at the

moment, aren't you?

Yes, I am...

if you think I could do the job.

You're the very man. That's settled.

You'll go down 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 this far,

I'll do as you say, for now.

But I'm not yet convinced

that I need the services...

of a detective at all...

unless it'd 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.

No! Look after him.

Brandy, Mortimer, quickly.

Here 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 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.

Are you sure you don't want

a ride to the village?

Quite sure. It'll only take

you out of your way...

whereas it's a short

walk across the moor.

You'd be better off

to go along with us.

Kindly wait until you're spoken to,

and get on with what you're doing.

Whatever you say, but 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?

Forgive me, Sir Henry, you

wouldn't know about it.

One of our largest prisons,

called 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 people

hanged for murder here.

There was some talk

of him being insane...

so they sentenced him to

life imprisonment instead.

Won't do him no good,

though, escaping.

He'd only starve himself to death

out there, or something worse.

- What do you mean by that?

- Why, nothing, sir.

Just my foolishness.

I feel you should let us

take you into the village.

He might be anywhere out there.

Don't worry about me.

I can look after myself.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

All right, Perkins.

A curse upon the family...

unhappiness and death

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Arthur Conan Doyle

Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle (22 May 1859 – 7 July 1930) was a British writer best known for his detective fiction featuring the character Sherlock Holmes. Originally a physician, in 1887 he published A Study in Scarlet, the first of four novels about Holmes and Dr. Watson. In addition, Doyle wrote over fifty short stories featuring the famous detective. The Sherlock Holmes stories are generally considered milestones in the field of crime fiction. Doyle was a prolific writer; his non-Sherlockian works include fantasy and science fiction stories about Professor Challenger and humorous stories about the Napoleonic soldier Brigadier Gerard, as well as plays, romances, poetry, non-fiction and historical novels. One of Doyle's early short stories, "J. Habakuk Jephson's Statement", helped to popularise the mystery of the Mary Celeste. more…

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