That night, upon his return from taking Violet home, Sir Henry took Holmes and myself to his room. There he rolled up his sleeve to reveal the scars left by the Hound's teeth.
"Sir Henry, Miss Taylor made it clear we were not to discuss this."
"I understand that, Watson, but I feel I must speak of it. I can't tell Violet; when I try she makes me stop and tells me to forget it. I can't. How can one forget something like that? You two are the only ones who understand. You were there; you experienced it with me."
Holmes and I exchanged a glance.
"I'm not sure if this is wise, Sir Henry."
"Please, at least hear me out, Holmes."
His voice and face were desparate, and we found we could not refuse him.
"Very well. Carry on."
He sighed in relief.
"Thank you."
We all sat down with some hot tea.
"When I saw the Hound I saw the sins I had committed and had been going to committ with Cecille. I wanted nothing but to undo the ones that had been done and never to do what I had planned to do. I did not, and do not, hate Cecille and Stapleton for their actions. I pitied and still do, them for not being able to have the luxury they were entitled to by their birthrite as I was. I could not hate them for that. I hated not the Hound either. Once you revealed the truth to me, Holmes, I pitied the poor creature. If they had approached me and told me the truth I would have welcomed them into the Hall and shared the inheiritance with them. They were entitiled to it by birth just as much as I. I wish I could do it over again with the knowledge I have now. It could have been different, better. I dream of it, yes, but it's natural to do so. I do not fear the moor anymore than I fear the town. Violet just doesn't see it. You must believe me, please."
Holmes and I sat, unsure of what to make of the earl's confession. It wasn't what we had expected.
"I believe you, Sir Henry," I said.
"As do I," Holmes agreed.
Sir Henry smiled.
"You do?"
"Yes."
He sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"Their graves are at the edge of moor as I requested. Will you go with me tomorrow morning to see to the graves and place flowers there? I feel they deserve for someone to see them. They were family after all."
"You are a kind man, Sir Henry. We'll go with you."
He smiled.
"Thank you."
Holmes and I bid him goodnight and left his room.
"No wonder he's so loved among the town. That man has a heart of gold."
"Indeed he does, Watson. It may also get him into trouble, being such a tender hearted man."
I nodded, understanding my friend's words.
With a heart as kind as his, Sir Henry was bound to get into trouble somehow.
********
The gray of dawn was disappearing as the sun rose higher when we reached Stapleton and Cecille's graves. Of course, only Stapleton's body was buried since Cecille had fallen into a sinkpit and sank to her death.
Sir Henry climbed down from his wagon, pulled the weeds from the graves and placed some wild flowers upon each grave, kneeling there for a moment, his head low.
I then heard his voice murmuring what sounded like a prayer, and I was touched by the kindnes this man was showing.
"Henry Baskerville!"
We all spun around to see Violet on her horse.
"Violet? What are you doing here?"
"Barrymore said you'd be here."
Sir Henry swallowed.
"Why pay those wretched people any respect? They tried to kill you!"
"I know, but they were lost to their bitterness and resentment. Perhaps, if they had just told me the truth things would be different. I don't hate them for what they did; I never hated them. They were family, Baskervilles, just as much as I am."
Violet was silent for a moment then smiled.
"Oh, Henry. Your heart was one of things that made me fall for you. You're the kindest man I've ever known."
Henry smiled and climbed into the wagon, taking the reins, and we headed for the Hall.