father was killed here in Barotseland, and it was Symes, his murderer,
who went back to Bulawayo. It was that fiend Symes, also, who took my
father's name, probably to draw any money that might have been left
behind, and who, as Richard Bridges, was hanged for murder. Poor old
dad," he added brokenly, "murdered, and his body mutilated by savages!
But how glad I am to know that he died an honest man!"
With the evidence at hand it was easy to prove the identity of the
murderer of twenty years ago, and, having settled the matter
satisfactorily and cleared the dead man's name, Jack and I returned to
England, where a few weeks later I had to purchase wedding garments in
order that I might play the part of best man at Jack's wedding.
IV
THE CASE OF SIR ALISTER MOERAN
"Ethne?" My aunt looked at me with raised brows and smiled. "My dear
Maurice, hadn't you heard? Ethne went abroad directly after Christmas,
with the Wilmotts, for a trip to Egypt. She's having a glorious time!"
I am afraid I looked as blank as I felt. I had only landed in England
three days ago, after two years' service in India, and the one thing I
had been looking forward to was seeing my cousin Ethne again.
"Then, since you did not know she was away, you, of course, have not
heard the other news?" went on my aunt.
"No," I answered in a wooden voice. "I've heard nothing."
She beamed. "The dear child is engaged to a Sir Alister Moeran, whom she
met in Luxor. Everyone is delighted, as it is a splendid match for her.
Lady Wilmott speaks most highly of him, a man of excellent family and
position, and perfectly charming to boot."
I believe I murmured something suitable, but it was absurd to pretend to
be overjoyed at the news. The galling part of it was that Aunt Linda
knew, and was chuckling, so to speak, over my discomfiture.
"If you are going up to Wimberley Park," she went on sweetly, "you will
probably meet them both, as your Uncle Bob has asked us all there for
the February house-party. He cabled an invitation to Sir Alister as soon
as he heard of the engagement. Wasn't it good of him?"
I replied that it was; then, having heard quite enough for one day of
the charms of Ethne's _fiance_, I took my leave.
That night, after cursing myself for a churl, I wrote and wished her
good luck. The next morning I received a letter from Uncle Bob asking me
to go to Wimberley; and early in the following week I travelled up to
Cumberland. I received a warm welcome from the old General. As a boy I
used to spend the greater part of my holidays with him, and being
childless himself, he regarded me more or less as a son.
On February 16th Ethne, her mother, and Sir Alister Moeran arrived. I
motored to the station to meet them. The evening was cold and raw and so
dark that it was almost impossible to distinguish people on the badly
lighted little platform. However, as I groped my way along, I recognised
Ethne's voice, and thus directed, hurried towards the group. As I did so
two gleaming, golden eyes flashed out at me through the darkness.
"Hullo!" I thought. "So she's carted along the faithful Pincher!" But
the next moment I found I was mistaken, for Ethne was holding out both
hands to me in greeting. There was no dog with her, and in the bustle
that followed, I forgot to seek further for the solution of those two
fiery lights.
"It was good of you to come, Maurice," Ethne said with unmistakable
pleasure, then, turning to the man at her side, "Alister, this is my
cousin, Captain Kilvert, of whom you have heard me speak."
We murmured the usual formalities in the usual manner, but as my fingers
touched his, I experienced the most curious sensation down the region of
my spine. It took me back to Burma and a certain very uncomfortable
night that I once passed in the jungle. But the impression was so
fleeting as to be indefinable, and soon I was busy getting everyone
settled in the car.
So far, except that he possessed an exceptionally charming voice, I had
no chance of forming an opinion of my cousin's _fiance_. It was
half-past seven when we got back to the house, so we all went straight
up to our rooms to dress for dinner.
Everyone was assembled in the drawing-room when Sir Alister Moeran came
in, and I shall never forget the effect his appearance made.
Conversation ceased entirely for an instant. There was a kind of
breathless pause, which was almost audible as my uncle rose to greet
him. In all my life I had never seen a handsomer man, and I don't
suppose anyone else there had either. It was the most startling,
arresting style of beauty one could possibly imagine, and yet, even as I
stared at him in admiration, the word "Black!" flashed into my mind.
Black! I pulled myself up sharply. We English, who have lived out in the
East, are far too prone to stigmatise thus anyone who shows the smallest
trace of being a "half breed"; but in Sir Alister's case there was not
even a suspicion of this. He was no darker than scores of men of my own
nationality, and besides, he belonged, I knew, to a very old Scottish
family. Yet, try as I would to strangle the idea, all through the
evening the same horrible, unaccountable notion clung to me.
That he was the personality of the gathering there was not the slightest
doubt. Men and women alike seemed attracted by him, for his
individuality was on a par with his looks.
Several times during dinner I glanced at Ethne, but it was easy to see
that all her attention was taken up by her lover. Yet, oddly enough, I
was not jealous in the ordinary way. I saw the folly of imagining that I
could stand a chance against a man like Moeran, and, moreover, he
interested me too deeply. His knowledge of the East was extraordinary,
and later, when the ladies had retired, he related many curious
experiences.
"Might I ask," said my uncle's friend, Major Faucett, suddenly, "whether
you were in the Service, or had you a Government appointment out there?"
Sir Alister smiled, and under his moustache I caught the gleam of
strong, white teeth.
"As a matter of fact, neither. I am almost ashamed to say I have no
profession, unless I may call myself an explorer."
"And why not?" put in Uncle Bob. "Provided your explorations were to
some purpose and of benefit to the community in general, I consider you
are doing something worth while."
"Exactly," Sir Alister replied. "From my earliest boyhood I have always
had the strangest hankering for the East. I say strange, because to my
parents it was inexplicable, neither of them having the slightest
leaning in that direction, though to me it seemed the most natural
desire in the world. I was like an alien in a foreign land, longing to
get home. I recollect, as a child, my nurse thought me a beastly uncanny
kid because I loved to lie in bed and listen to the cats howling and
fighting outside. I used to put my head half under the blankets and
imagine I was in my lair in the jungle, and those were the jackals and
panthers prowling around outside."
"I suppose you'd been reading adventure books," Uncle Bob said, with a
laugh. "I played at much the same game when I was a youngster, only in
my case it was Redskins."
"Possibly," Sir Alister answered with a slight shrug, "only mine wasn't
a game that I played with any other boys, it was a gnawing desire, which
simply had to be satisfied; and the opportunity came. When I was
fourteen, the father of a school friend of mine, who was going out to
India, asked me to go out with him and the boy for the trip. Of course,
I went."
"I wonder," the Major remarked, "that you ever came back once you got
there, since you were so frightfully keen."
"I was certain I should return," he replied grimly.
A pause followed his last words, then Uncle Bob rose and led the way to
the drawing-room, where for the remainder of the evening Sir Alister was
chiefly monopolised by the ladies.
* * * * *
"Well, Maurice," Uncle Bob said, when on the following evening I was
sitting in his study having my usual before-dinner chat with him, "and
how do you like Ethne's future husband?"
I hesitated. "I--I really don't know," I replied.
"Come, boy," he said, with his whimsical smile, "why not be frank and
own to a very natural jealousy?"
"Because," I answered simply, "the feeling Sir Alister Moeran inspires
in me is not jealousy, curiously enough. It's something else, something
indefinable that comes over me now and again. Dogs don't like him, and
that's always a bad sign, to my thinking."
My uncle's bushy eyebrows went up slightly.
"When did you make this discovery?"
"This morning," I replied. "You know I took him and Ethne round the
place. Well, the first thing I noticed was that Mike refused to come
with us, although both Ethne and I called him. As we passed through the
hall he slunk away into the library. I thought it a bit strange, as he's
usually so frantic to go out with me. Still, I didn't attach any
significance to the matter until later, when we visited the kennels. I
don't know why, but one takes it for granted that a man is keen on dogs
somehow and----"
"Isn't Sir Alister?"
"They are not keen on him, anyhow," I answered grimly. "They had heard
my voice as we approached and were all barking with delight, but
directly we entered the place there was a dead silence, save for a few
ominous growls from Argo. It was a most extraordinary sight. They all
bristled up, so to speak, sniffing the air though on the scent of
something. I let Bess and Fritz loose, but instead of jumping up, as
they usually do, they hung back and showed the whites of their eyes in a
way I've never seen before. I actually had to whistle to them sharply
several times before they came, and then it was in a slinking manner,
taking good care to put Ethne and me between themselves and Moeran, and
looking askance at him the whole while."
"H'm!" murmured the General with puckered brows. "That was certainly
odd, very odd!"
"It was," I agreed, warming to the subject, "but there's odder still to
come. I dare say you'll think it all my fancy, but the minute those
animals put their heads up and sniffed in that peculiar way, I
distinctly smelt the musky, savage odour of wild beasts. You know it
well, anyone who has been through a jungle does."
Uncle Bob nodded. "I know it, too; 'Musky' is the very word--the smell
of sun-warmed fur. Jove, how it carries me back! I remember once, years
ago, coming upon a litter of lion cubs, in a cave, when I was out in
Africa----"
"Yes! Yes!" I cried eagerly. "And that is what I smelt this morning.
Those dogs smelt it, too. They felt that there was something alien,
abnormal in their midst."
"That something being--Sir Alister Moeran?"
I felt myself flush up under his gaze. I got up and walked about the
room.
"I don't understand it," I said doggedly. "I tell you plainly, Uncle
Bob, I don't understand. My impression of the man last night was
'black,' but he's not black, I know that perfectly well, no more than
you or I are, and yet I can't get over the behaviour of those hounds.
It wasn't only one of 'em, it was the whole lot. They seemed to regard
him as their natural enemy! And that smell! I'm sure Ethne detected it
too, for she kept glancing about her in a startled, mystified way."
"And Sir Alister?" queried the General. "Do you mean to say he did not
notice anything amiss?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "He didn't appear to. I called attention myself
to the singular attitude of the hounds, and he said quite casually:
'Dogs never do take to me much.'"
Uncle Bob gave a short laugh. "Our friend is evidently not sensitive."
He paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then added: "It certainly is
rather curious, but, for Heaven's sake, boy, don't get imagining all
sorts of things!"
This nettled me and made me wish I had held my tongue. I was quite aware
that my story might have sounded somewhat fantastic from a stranger;
still, he ought to have known me better than to accuse me of
imagination. I abruptly changed the subject, and shortly after left the
room.
But I could not banish from my mind the incident of the morning. I could
not forget the appealing faces of those dogs. Ethne and Sir Alister had
left me there and returned to the house together, and, after their
departure, those poor, dumb beasts had gathered round me in a way that
was absolutely pathetic, licking and fondling my hands, as though
apologising for their previous misconduct. Still, I understood. That
bristling up their spines was precisely the same sensation I had
experienced when I first met Sir Alister Moeran.
As I was slowly mounting the stairs on my way up to dress, I heard
someone running up after me, and turned round to find Ethne beside me.
"Maurice," she said, rather breathlessly, "tell me, you did not punish
Fritz and Bess for not coming at once when you called them this
morning?"
"No," I answered.
She gave a nervous little laugh. "I'm glad of that. I thought
perhaps----" She stopped short, then rushed on, "You know how queer
mother is about cats--can't bear one in the room, and how they always
fly out directly she comes in? Well, dogs are the same with Alister.
He--he told me so himself. It seems funny to me, and I suppose to you,
because we're so fond of all kinds of animals; but I don't really see
why it should be any more extraordinary to have an antipathy for dogs
than for cats, and no one thinks anything of it if you dislike cats."
"That is so," I said thoughtfully.
"Anyway," she went on, "it is not our own fault if a certain animal does
not instinctively take to us."
"Of course not," I replied stoutly. "You're surely not worrying about
it, are you?"
She hastened to assure me that she was not, but I could see that my
indorsing her opinion was a great relief to her. She had been afraid
that I should think it unnatural. I did for that matter, but I could
not, of course, tell her so.
That night Sir Alister and I sat up late talking after the other men had
retired. We had got on the subject of India and had been comparing notes
as to our different adventures. From this we went on to discussing
perilous situations and escapes, and it was then that he narrated to me
a very curious incident.
"It happened when I was only twenty-one," he said, "the year after my
father died. I think I told you that as soon as ever I became my own
master, I packed up and was off to the East. I had a friend with me, a
boy who had been my best pal at school. They used to call us 'Black and
White.' He was fair and girlish-looking, and his name was Buchanan. He
was just as keen on India as I was, and purposed writing a book
afterwards on our experiences.
"Our intention was to explore the wildest, most savage districts, and as
a start we selected the province of Orissa. The forests there are
wonderful, and it is there, if anywhere, that the almost extinct Indian
lion is still to be found. We engaged two sturdy hillmen to accompany us
and pushed our way downwards from Calcutta over mountains, rivers and
through some of the densest jungles I've ever traversed. It was on the
outskirts of one of the latter that the tragedy took place. We had
pitched our tents one evening after a long, tiring day, and turned in
early to sleep, Buchanan and I in one, and the two Bhils in the other."
Sir Alister paused for a few moments, toying with his cigar in an
abstracted manner, then continued in the same clear, even voice:
"When I awoke next morning, I found my friend lying beside me dead, and
blood all round us! His throat was torn open by the teeth of some wild
beast, his breast was horribly mauled and lacerated, and his eyes were
wide, staring open, and their expression was awful. He must have died a
hideous death and known it!"
Again he stopped, but I made no comment, only waited with breathless
interest till he went on.
"I called the two men. They came and looked, and for the first time I
saw terror written on their faces. Their nostrils quivered as though
scenting something; then 'Tiger!' they gasped simultaneously.
"One of them said he had heard a stifled scream in the night, but had
thought it merely some animal in the jungle. The whole thing was a
mystery. How I came to sleep undisturbed through it all, how I escaped
the same fate, and why the tiger did not carry off his prey----"
"You are sure it was a tiger?" I put in.
"I think there was no doubt of it," Sir Alister replied. "The Bhils
swore the teeth-marks were unmistakable, and not only that, but I saw
another case seven years later. The body of a young woman was found in
the compound outside my bungalow, done to death in precisely the same
way. And several of the natives testified as to there being a tiger in
that vicinity, for they had found three or four young goats destroyed in
similar fashion."
"Who was the girl?" I asked.
Moeran slowly turned his lucent, amber eyes upon me as he answered. "She
was a German, a sort of nursery governess at the English doctor's. He
was naturally frightfully upset about it, and a regular panic sprang up
in the neighbourhood. The natives got a superstitious scare--thought
one of their gods was wroth about something and demanded sacrifice; but
the white people were simply out to kill the tiger."
"And did they?" I queried eagerly.
Sir Alister shook his head. "That I can't say, as I left the place very
soon afterwards and went up to the mountains."
A long silence followed, during which I stared at him in mute
fascination. Then an unaccountable impulse made me say abruptly:
"Moeran, how old are you?"
His finely-marked eyebrows went up in surprise at the irrelevance of my
question, but he smiled.
"Funny you should ask! It so happens that it's my birthday to-morrow. I
shall be thirty-five."
"Thirty-five!" I repeated. Then with a shiver I rose from my seat. The
room seemed to have turned suddenly cold.
"Come," I said, "let's go to bed."
* * * * *
Next night at dinner I proposed Sir Alister's health, and we all drank
to him and his "bride-to-be." They had that day definitely settled the
date of their marriage for two months ahead; Ethne was looking radiant
and everyone seemed in the best of spirits.
We danced and romped and played rowdy games like a pack of children.
Nothing was too silly for us to attempt. While a one-step was in full
swing some would-be wag suddenly turned off all the lights. It was then
that for a moment I caught sight of a pair of glowing, fiery eyes
shining through the darkness. Instantly my thoughts flew back to that
meeting at the station, when I had fancied that Ethne had her dog in her
arms. A chill, sinister feeling crept over me, but I kept my gaze fixed
steadily in the same direction. The next minute the lights went up, and
I found myself staring straight at Sir Alister Moeran. His arm was round
Ethne's waist and she was smiling up into his face. Almost immediately
they took up the dance again, and I and my partner followed suit. But
all my gaiety had departed. An indefinable oppression seized me and
clung to me for the rest of the evening.
As I emerged from my room next morning I saw old Giles, the butler,
hurrying down the corridor towards me.
"Oh, Mr. Maurice--Captain Kilvert, sir!" he burst out, consternation in
every line of his usually stolid countenance. "A dreadful thing has
happened! How it's come about I can't for the life of me say, and how
we're going to tell the General, the Lord only knows!"
"What?" I asked, seizing him by the arm. "What is it?"
"The dawg, sir," he answered in a hoarse whisper, "Mike--in the
study----"
I waited to hear no more, but strode off down the stairs, Giles hobbling
beside me as fast as he could, and together we entered the study.
In the middle of the floor lay the body of Mike. A horrible foreboding
gripped me, and I quickly knelt down and raised the dog's head. His neck
was torn open, bitten right through to the windpipe, the blood still
dripping from it into a dark pool on the carpet.
A cold, numbing sensation stole down my spine and made my legs grow
suddenly weak. Beads of perspiration gathered on my forehead as I
slowly rose to my feet and faced Giles.
"What's the meaning of it, sir?" he asked, passing his hand across his
brow in utter bewilderment. "That dawg was as right as possible when I
shut up last night, and he couldn't have got out."
"No," I answered mechanically, "he couldn't have got out."
"Looks like some wild beast had attacked him," muttered the old man, in
awed tones, as he bent over the lifeless body. "D'ye see the teeth
marks, sir? But it's not possible--not possible."
"No," I said again, in the same wooden fashion. "It's not possible."
"But how're we going to account for it to the General?" he cried
brokenly. "Oh, Mr. Maurice, sir, it's dreadful!"
I nodded. "You're right, Giles! Still, it isn't your fault, nor mine.
Leave the matter to me. I'll break it to my uncle."
It was a most unenviable task, but I did it. Poor Uncle Bob! I shall
never forget his face when he saw the mutilated body of the dog that for
years had been his faithful companion. He almost wept, only rage and
resentment against the murderer were so strong in him that they thrust
grief for the time into the background. The mysterious, incomprehensible
manner of the dog's death only added to his anger, for there was
apparently no one on whom to wreak his vengeance.
The news caused general concern throughout the house, and Ethne was
frightfully upset.
"Oh, Alister, isn't it awful?" she exclaimed, tears standing in her
pretty blue eyes. "Poor, darling Mike!"
"Yes," he answered rather absently. "It's most unfortunate. Valuable
dog, too, wasn't it?"
I walked away. The man's calm, handsome face filled me suddenly with
unspeakable revulsion. The atmosphere of the room seemed to become heavy
and noisome. I felt compelled to get out into the open to breathe.
I found the General tramping up and down the drive in the rain, his chin
sunk deep into the collar of his overcoat, his hat pulled low down over
his eyes. I joined him without speaking, and in silence we paced side by
side for another quarter of an hour.
"Uncle Bob," I said abruptly at last, "take my advice. Have one of the
hounds indoors to-night--Princep, he's a good watch-dog."
The General stopped short in his walk and looked at me.
"You've something on your mind, boy. What is it?"
"This," I answered grimly. "Whoever, or whatever killed Mike was in the
house last night, or got in, after Giles shut up. It may still be there
for all we know. In the dark, dark deeds are done, and--well, I think
it's wise to take precautions."
"Good God, Maurice, if there is any creature in hiding, we'll soon have
it out! I'll have the place searched now. But the thing's impossible,
absurd!"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Then Mike died a natural death?"
"Natural?" he echoed fiercely. "Don't talk rubbish!"
"In that case," I said quietly, "you'll agree to let one of the dogs
sleep in."
He gave me a long, troubled, searching look, then said gruffly: "Very
well, but don't make any fuss about it. Women are such nervous beings
and we don't want to upset anyone."
"You needn't be afraid of that," I replied, "I'll manage it all right."
There was no further talk of Mike that day. The visitors, seeing how
distressed the General was, by tacit consent avoided the subject, but
everyone felt the dampening effect.
That night, before I retired to my room, I took a lantern, went out to
the kennels and brought in Princep, a pure-bred Irish setter. He was a
dog of exceptional intelligence, and when I spoke to him, explaining the
reason of his presence indoors, he seemed to know instinctively what was
required of him.
As I passed the study I noticed a light coming from under the door.
Somewhat surprised, I turned the handle and looked in. My uncle was
seated before his desk in the act of loading a revolver. He glanced up
sharply as I entered.
"Oh, it's you, is it? Got the dog in?"
"Yes," I replied, "I've left him in the library with the door open."
He regarded the revolver pensively for a few moments, then laid it down
in front of him.
"You've no theory as to this--this business?"
I shook my head, I could offer no explanation. Yet all the while there
lurked, deep down in my heart, a hideous suspicion, a suspicion so
monstrous that had I voiced it, I should probably have been considered
mad. And so I held my peace on the subject and merely wished my uncle
good-night.
It was about one o'clock when I got into bed, but my brain was far too
agitated for sleep. Something I had heard years ago, some old wives'
tales about a man's life changing every seven years, kept dinning in my
head. I was striving to remember how the story went, when a slight sound
outside caught my ear. In a second I was out of bed and had silently
opened the door. As I did so, someone passed close by me down the
corridor.