TOBERMORY

It was a chill, rain-washed afternoon of a late August day, that

indefinite season when partridges are still in security or cold

storage, and there is nothing to hunt--unless one is bounded on the

north by the Bristol Channel, in which case one may lawfully gallop

after fat red stags. Lady Blemley's house-party was not bounded on the

north by the Bristol Channel, hence there was a full gathering of her

guests round the tea-table on this particular afternoon. And, in spite

of the blankness of the season and the triteness of the occasion, there

was no trace in the company of that fatigued restlessness which means a

dread of the pianola and a subdued hankering for auction bridge. The

undisguised openmouthed attention of the entire party was fixed on the

homely negative personality of Mr. Cornelius Appin. Of all her guests,

he was the one who had come to Lady Blemley with the vaguest

reputation. Some one had said he was "clever," and he had got his

invitation in the moderate expectation, on the part of his hostess,

that some portion at least of his cleverness would be contributed to

the general entertainment. Until tea-time that day she had been unable

to discover in what direction, if any, his cleverness lay. He was

neither a wit nor a croquet champion, a hypnotic force nor a begetter

of amateur theatricals. Neither did his exterior suggest the sort of

man in whom women are willing to pardon a generous measure of mental

deficiency. He had subsided into mere Mr. Appin, and the Cornelius

seemed a piece of transparent baptismal bluff. And now he was claiming

to have launched on the world a discovery beside which the invention of

gunpowder, of the printing-press, and of steam locomotion were

inconsiderable trifles. Science had made bewildering strides in many

directions during recent decades, but this thing seemed to belong to

the domain of miracle rather than to scientific achievement.

"And do you really ask us to believe," Sir Wilfrid was saying, "that

you have discovered a means for instructing animals in the art of human

speech, and that dear old Tobermory has proved your first successful

pupil?"

"It is a problem at which I have worked for the last seventeen years,"

said Mr. Appin, "but only during the last eight or nine months have I

been rewarded with glimmerings of success. Of course I have

experimented with thousands of animals, but latterly only with cats,

those wonderful creatures which have assimilated themselves so

marvellously with our civilization while retaining all their highly

developed feral instincts. Here and there among cats one comes across

an outstanding superior intellect, just as one does among the ruck of

human beings, and when I made the acquaintance of Tobermory a week ago

I saw at once that I was in contact with a 'Beyond-cat' of

extraordinary intelligence. I had gone far along the road to success

in recent experiments; with Tobermory, as you call him, I have reached

the goal."

Mr. Appin concluded his remarkable statement in a voice which he strove

to divest of a triumphant inflection. No one said "Rats," though

Clovis's lips moved in a monosyllabic contortion which probably invoked

those rodents of disbelief.

"And do you mean to say," asked Miss Resker, after a slight pause,

"that you have taught Tobermory to say and understand easy sentences of

one syllable?"

"My dear Miss Resker," said the wonderworker patiently, "one teaches

little children and savages and backward adults in that piecemeal

fashion; when one has once solved the problem of making a beginning

with an animal of highly developed intelligence one has no need for

those halting methods. Tobermory can speak our language with perfect

correctness."

This time Clovis very distinctly said, "Beyond-rats!" Sir Wilfrid was

more polite, but equally sceptical.

"Hadn't we better have the cat in and judge for ourselves?" suggested

Lady Blemley.

Sir Wilfrid went in search of the animal, and the company settled

themselves down to the languid expectation of witnessing some more or

less adroit drawing-room ventriloquism.

In a minute Sir Wilfrid was back in the room, his face white beneath

its tan and his eyes dilated with excitement.

"By Gad, it's true!"

His agitation was unmistakably genuine, and his hearers started forward

in a thrill of awakened interest.

Collapsing into an armchair he continued breathlessly: "I found him

dozing in the smoking-room, and called out to him to come for his tea.

He blinked at me in his usual way, and I said, 'Come on, Toby; don't

keep us waiting;' and, by Gad! he drawled out in a most horribly

natural voice that he'd come when he dashed well pleased! I nearly

jumped out of my skin!"

Appin had preached to absolutely incredulous hearers; Sir Wilfrid's

statement carried instant conviction. A Babel-like chorus of startled

exclamation arose, amid which the scientist sat mutely enjoying the

first fruit of his stupendous discovery.

In the midst of the clamour Tobermory entered the room and made his way

with velvet tread and studied unconcern across to the group seated

round the tea-table.

A sudden hush of awkwardness and constraint fell on the company.

Somehow there seemed an element of embarrassment in addressing on equal

terms a domestic cat of acknowledged dental ability.

"Will you have some milk, Tobermory?" asked Lady Blemley in a rather

strained voice.

"I don't mind if I do," was the response, couched in a tone of even

indifference. A shiver of suppressed excitement went through the

listeners, and Lady Blemley might be excused for pouring out the

saucerful of milk rather unsteadily.

"I'm afraid I've spilt a good deal of it," she said apologetically.

"After all, it's not my Axminster," was Tobermory's rejoinder.

Another silence fell on the group, and then Miss Resker, in her best

district-visitor manner, asked if the human language had been difficult

to learn. Tobermory looked squarely at her for a moment and then fixed

his gaze serenely on the middle distance. It was obvious that boring

questions lay outside his scheme of life.

"What do you think of human intelligence?" asked Mavis Pellington

lamely.

"Of whose intelligence in particular?" asked Tobermory coldly.

"Oh, well, mine for instance," said Mavis, with a feeble laugh.

"You put me in an embarrassing position," said Tobermory, whose tone

and attitude certainly did not suggest a shred of embarrassment. "When

your inclusion in this house-party was suggested Sir Wilfrid protested

that you were the most brainless woman of his acquaintance, and that

there was a wide distinction between hospitality and the care of the

feeble-minded. Lady Blemley replied that your lack of brain-power was

the precise quality which had earned you your invitation, as you were

the only person she could think of who might be idiotic enough to buy

their old car. You know, the one they call 'The Envy of Sisyphus,'

because it goes quite nicely up-hill if you push it."

Lady Blemley's protestations would have had greater effect if she had

not casually suggested to Mavis only that morning that the car in

question would be just the thing for her down at her Devonshire home.

Major Barfield plunged in heavily to effect a diversion.

"How about your carryings-on with the tortoiseshell puss up at the

stables, eh?"

The moment he had said it every one realized the blunder.

"One does not usually discuss these matters in public," said Tobermory

frigidly. "From a slight observation of your ways since you've been in

this house I should imagine you'd find it inconvenient if I were to

shift the conversation on to your own little affairs."

The panic which ensued was not confined to the Major.

"Would you like to go and see if cook has got your dinner ready?"

suggested Lady Blemley hurriedly, affecting to ignore the fact that it

wanted at least two hours to Tobermory's dinner-time.

"Thanks," said Tobermory, "not quite so soon after my tea. I don't

want to die of indigestion."

"Cats have nine lives, you know," said Sir Wilfrid heartily.

"Possibly," answered Tobermory; "but only one liver."

"Adelaide!" said Mrs. Cornett, "do you mean to encourage that cat to go

out and gossip about us in the servants' hall?"

The panic had indeed become general. A narrow ornamental balustrade

ran in front of most of the bedroom windows at the Towers, and it was

recalled with dismay that this had formed a favourite promenade for

Tobermory at all hours, whence he could watch the pigeons--and heaven

knew what else besides. If he intended to become reminiscent in his

present outspoken strain the effect would be something more than

disconcerting. Mrs. Cornett, who spent much time at her toilet table,

and whose complexion was reputed to be of a nomadic though punctual

disposition, looked as ill at ease as the Major. Miss Scrawen, who

wrote fiercely sensuous poetry and led a blameless life, merely

displayed irritation; if you are methodical and virtuous in private you

don't necessarily want every one to know it. Bertie van Tahn, who was

so depraved at seventeen that he had long ago given up trying to be any

worse, turned a dull shade of gardenia white, but he did not commit the

error of dashing out of the room like Odo Finsberry, a young gentleman

who was understood to be reading for the Church and who was possibly

disturbed at the thought of scandals he might hear concerning other

people. Clovis had the presence of mind to maintain a composed

exterior; privately he was calculating how long it would take to

procure a box of fancy mice through the agency of the EXCHANGE AND MART

as a species of hush-money.

Even in a delicate situation like the present, Agnes Resker could not

endure to remain too long in the background.

"Why did I ever come down here?" she asked dramatically.

Tobermory immediately accepted the opening.

"Judging by what you said to Mrs. Cornett on the croquet-lawn

yesterday, you were out for food. You described the Blemleys as the

dullest people to stay with that you knew, but said they were clever

enough to employ a first-rate cook; otherwise they'd find it difficult

to get anyone to come down a second time."

"There's not a word of truth in it! I appeal to Mrs. Cornett--"

exclaimed the discomfited Agnes.

"Mrs. Cornett repeated your remark afterwards to Bertie van Tahn,"

continued Tobermory, "and said, 'That woman is a regular Hunger

Marcher; she'd go anywhere for four square meals a day,' and Bertie van

Tahn said--"

At this point the chronicle mercifully ceased. Tobermory had caught a

glimpse of the big yellow Tom from the Rectory working his way through

the shrubbery towards the stable wing. In a flash he had vanished

through the open French window.

With the disappearance of his too brilliant pupil Cornelius Appin found

himself beset by a hurricane of bitter upbraiding, anxious inquiry, and

frightened entreaty. The responsibility for the situation lay with

him, and he must prevent matters from becoming worse. Could Tobermory

impart his dangerous gift to other cats? was the first question he had

to answer. It was possible, he replied, that he might have initiated

his intimate friend the stable puss into his new accomplishment, but it

was unlikely that his teaching could have taken a wider range as yet.

"Then," said Mrs. Cornett, "Tobermory may be a valuable cat and a great

pet; but I'm sure you'll agree, Adelaide, that both he and the stable

cat must be done away with without delay."

"You don't suppose I've enjoyed the last quarter of an hour, do you?"

said Lady Blemley bitterly. "My husband and I are very fond of

Tobermory--at least, we were before this horrible accomplishment was

infused into him; but now, of course, the only thing is to have him

destroyed as soon as possible."

"We can put some strychnine in the scraps he always gets at

dinner-time," said Sir Wilfrid, "and I will go and drown the stable cat

myself. The coachman will be very sore at losing his pet, but I'll say

a very catching form of mange has broken out in both cats and we're

afraid of it spreading to the kennels."

"But my great discovery!" expostulated Mr. Appin; "after all my years

of research and experiment--"

"You can go and experiment on the shorthorns at the farm, who are under

proper control," said Mrs. Cornett, "or the elephants at the Zoological

Gardens. They're said to be highly intelligent, and they have this

recommendation, that they don't come creeping about our bedrooms and

under chairs, and so forth."

An archangel ecstatically proclaiming the Millennium, and then finding

that it clashed unpardonably with Henley and would have to be

indefinitely postponed, could hardly have felt more crestfallen than

Cornelius Appin at the reception of his wonderful achievement. Public

opinion, however, was against him--in fact, had the general voice been

consulted on the subject it is probable that a strong minority vote

would have been in favour of including him in the strychnine diet.

Defective train arrangements and a nervous desire to see matters

brought to a finish prevented an immediate dispersal of the party, but

dinner that evening was not a social success. Sir Wilfrid had had

rather a trying time with the stable cat and subsequently with the

coachman. Agnes Resker ostentatiously limited her repast to a morsel

of dry toast, which she bit as though it were a personal enemy; while

Mavis Pellington maintained a vindictive silence throughout the meal.

Lady Blemley kept up a flow of what she hoped was conversation, but her

attention was fixed on the doorway. A plateful of carefully dosed fish

scraps was in readiness on the sideboard, but sweets and savoury and

dessert went their way, and no Tobermory appeared either in the

dining-room or kitchen.

The sepulchral dinner was cheerful compared with the subsequent vigil

in the smoking-room. Eating and drinking had at least supplied a

distraction and cloak to the prevailing embarrassment. Bridge was out

of the question in the general tension of nerves and tempers, and after

Odo Finsberry had given a lugubrious rendering of "Melisande in the

Wood" to a frigid audience, music was tacitly avoided. At eleven the

servants went to bed, announcing that the small window in the pantry

had been left open as usual for Tobermory's private use. The guests

read steadily through the current batch of magazines, and fell back

gradually, on the "Badminton Library" and bound volumes of PUNCH. Lady

Blemley made periodic visits to the pantry, returning each time with an

expression of listless depression which forestalled questioning.

At two o'clock Clovis broke the dominating silence.

"He won't turn up to-night. He's probably in the local newspaper

office at the present moment, dictating the first instalment of his

reminiscences. Lady What's-her-name's book won't be in it. It will be

the event of the day."

Having made this contribution to the general cheerfulness, Clovis went

to bed. At long intervals the various members of the house-party

followed his example.

The servants taking round the early tea made a uniform announcement in

reply to a uniform question. Tobermory had not returned.

Breakfast was, if anything, a more unpleasant function than dinner had

been, but before its conclusion the situation was relieved. Tobermory's

corpse was brought in from the shrubbery, where a gardener had just

discovered it. From the bites on his throat and the yellow fur which

coated his claws it was evident that he had fallen in unequal combat

with the big Tom from the Rectory.

By midday most of the guests had quitted the Towers, and after lunch

Lady Blemley had sufficiently recovered her spirits to write an

extremely nasty letter to the Rectory about the loss of her valuable

pet.

Tobermory had been Appin's one successful pupil, and he was destined to

have no successor. A few weeks later an elephant in the Dresden

Zoological Garden, which had shown no previous signs of irritability,

broke loose and killed an Englishman who had apparently been teasing

it. The victim's name was variously reported in the papers as Oppin

and Eppelin, but his front name was faithfully rendered Cornelius.

"If he was trying German irregular verbs on the poor beast," said

Clovis, "he deserved all he got."