The train brought us into a green, rolling country, and beyond it rose the grey, melancholy moor. Soldiers were watching the roads, because a convict named Selden had escaped from the prison at Princetown. Baskerville Hall stood at the end of a long avenue of trees, dark and heavy, with two towers and a great deal of ivy. The butler Barrymore was a tall, handsome man with a square black beard. That night I lay awake and heard, clear and resonant, the sob of a woman in the house. In the morning Mrs Barrymore's eyes were red and swollen. Barrymore said that no woman had cried in the house. It was a lie, and I knew it, and I began to watch him.