certain wanton and cruel humour which made his name a byword through the West. It chanced that this
Hugo came to love (if, indeed, so dark a passion may be known under so bright a name) the daughter
of a yeoman who held lands near the Baskerville estate. But the young maiden, being discreet and of
good repute, would ever avoid him, for she feared his evil name. So it came to pass that one Michaelmas
this Hugo, with five or six of his idle and wicked companions, stole down upon the farm and carried off
the maiden, her father and brothers being from home, as he well knew. When they had brought her to
the Hall the maiden was placed in an upper chamber, while Hugo and his friends sat down to a long
carouse, as was their nightly custom. Now, the poor lass upstairs was like to have her wits turned at the
singing and shouting and terrible oaths which came up to her from below, for they say that the words
used by Hugo Baskerville, when he was in wine, were such as might blast the man who said them. At
last in the stress of her fear she did that which might have daunted the bravest or most active man,
for by the aid of the growth of ivy which covered (and still covers) the south wall she came down from
under the eaves, and so homeward across the moor, there being three leagues betwixt the Hall and her
father's farm.
`It chanced that some little time later Hugo left his guests to carry food and drink - with other worse
things, perchance - to his captive, and so found the cage empty and the bird escaped. Then, as it would
seem, he became as one that hath a devil, for, rushing down the stairs into the dining-hall, he sprang
upon the great table, flagons and trenchers flying before him, and he cried aloud before all the company
that he would that very night render his body and soul to the Powers of Evil if he might but overtake
the wench. And while the revellers stood aghast at the fury of the man, one more wicked or, it may be,
more drunken than the rest, cried out that they should put the hounds upon her Whereat Hugo ran from
the house, crying to his grooms that they should saddle his mare and unkennel the pack, and giving the
hounds a kerchief of the maid's, he swung them to the line, and so off full cry in the moonlight over the
moor.
`Now, for some space the revellers stood agape, unable to understand all that had been done in such
haste. But anon their bemused wits awoke to the nature of the deed which was like to be done upon
the moorlands. Everything was now in an uproar, some calling for their pistols, some for their horses,
and some for another flask of wine. But at length some sense came back to their crazed minds, and
the whole of them, thirteen in number, took horse and started in pursuit. The moon shone clear above
them, and they rode swiftly abreast, taking that course which the maid must needs have taken if she
were to reach her own home.
`They had gone a mile or two when they passed one of the night shepherds upon the moorlands, and
they cried to him to know if he had seen the hunt. And the man, as the story goes, was so crazed with
fear that he could scarce speak, but at last he said that he had indeed seen the unhappy maiden, with
the hounds upon her track. ``But I have seen more than that,'' said he, ``for Hugo Baskerville passed me
upon his black mare, and there ran mute behind him such a hound of hell as God forbid should ever be
at my heels.'' So the drunken squires cursed the shepherd and rode onward. But soon their skins turned
cold, for there came a galloping across the moor, and the black mare, dabbled with white froth, went
past with trailing bridle and empty saddle. Then the revellers rode close together, for a great fear was
on them, but they still followed over the moor, though each, had he been alone, would have been right
glad to have turned his horse's head. Riding slowly in this fashion they came at last upon the hounds.
These, though known for their valour and their breed, were whimpering in a cluster at the head of a
deep dip or goyal, as we call it, upon the moor, some slinking away and some, with starting hackles and
staring eyes, gazing down the narrow valley before them.
`The company had come to a halt, more sober men, as you may guess, than when they started. The
most of them would by no means advance, but three of them, the boldest, or it may be the most drunken,
rode forward down the goyal. Now, it opened into a broad space in which stood two of those great stones,
still to be seen there, which were set by certain forgotten peoples in the days of old. The moon was
shining bright upon the clearing, and there in the centre lay the unhappy maid where she had fallen,
dead of fear and of fatigue.