“Knew what?”
“Knew that you hated him.”
“Really. Did he say that?”
“Was it true?”
“Why discuss it?”
“You’re right. It’s all over now. And he, poor chap, has gone beyond
the reach of earthly love or hate.”
He made no rejoinder, and I had an odd feeling as if he were silent
because I had said something with which he did not agree; yet that was
not possible.
“Do you think,” I said, to change the subject, “do you think that
fellow will come?”
“The dog-fancier? Oh, I suppose so. He won’t let slip a chance of
making twelve pounds. His dog isn’t worth more than six.”
“Then why do you give double?”
“A caprice.”
“I begin to think you are a capricious man,” I said.
“The dilettante generally is.”
He drew out his watch.
“It’s close upon six. That chap ought to be here in a moment. Ah,
there’s the bell! He’s come, no doubt.”
I was conscious of a certain discomfort, but scarcely knew its cause.
Putting down my cup, I sat listening intently. Vernon, too, was
listening. There was in his face an expression of strained attention.
When the door opened gently, I started and looked hastily round.
“Lord Elyn!” said Vernon, getting up from his chair.
“Yes. Glad to find you at home. Hulloa, Luttrell! So you’re back at
last! I haven’t seen you since the death of our poor friend Deeming.”
He shook my hand.
“That was a sad business. No one to take his place. No one like him, is
there?”
He sat down and stretched his legs. I said something suitable, but
with rather an uncertain voice. This unexpected arrival irritated
me. And yet I thoroughly liked Lord Elyn. Vernon, too—I felt sure of
it—was vexed by his arrival, but he was charmingly courteous, though,
in the trifling conversation that followed, he showed traces of
absent-mindedness. I knew he was listening for the sound of the bell.
I knew he was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the black spaniel. Six
o’clock struck. The hand of a clock on the mantelpiece pointed to five
minutes, then to ten minutes past six. Vernon began to betray a certain
restlessness, a certain uneasiness. He twice changed his place in the
room. Finally, he got up and remained standing.
“You are expecting someone?” said Lord Elyn, looking at him in some
surprise.
“Yes. The fact is I’ve bought a dog—or named my price for one—and he
ought to be brought here this evening.”
“Oh, I’m very fond of dogs. Kept them all my life. What sort of animal
is this one?”
“A black⸺there’s the bell!”
He broke off, went swiftly over to the window and looked out. As he
stood with his back turned to us I heard him utter a low exclamation.
“What did you say, Vernon?” I asked sharply.
I had not heard a word, but there was a thrilling sound in his voice
which startled me. I got up also from my chair, possessed, gnawed by an
inexplicable restlessness. Vernon turned round from the window. I saw
the strange light in his eyes which I had sometimes noticed there when
he talked about the animals and their relation with man.
“It’s the spaniel,” he said.
The words were simple enough, but the way in which he said them was
not simple. It sounded cruel and triumphant.
Lord Elyn looked more surprised. He also got up.
“The arrival of this dog seems quite an event,” he said.
“Yes, quite an event,” repeated Vernon, looking towards the door. “It’s
years since I’ve had a—pet.”
“If you please, Sir, there’s a person here with a dog.”
“I know. I expected him.”
“Indeed, Sir. Am I to admit him?”
“Certainly.”
“And the dog, Sir? Is he to come in too?”
“Of course. It’s the dog I want, not the man.”
Cragg remained in the doorway, looking at his master.
“What is it, Cragg?” asked Vernon. “What the deuce is the matter?”
“Well, Sir, I don’t see—I don’t, really—how we are ever going to get
that dog into the house.”
“What do you mean?” said Vernon.
On his lips there was playing a slight smile.
“I never see an animal in such a state, Sir; I really never did. Hark,
Sir!”
He lifted his hand. From below there came to us the sound of a
long-drawn howling. Again I felt a cold chill go over me. Lord Elyn,
too, was unpleasantly affected. He shook his shoulders, and said—
“Good God, what a dreadful noise! It sounds like something being
tortured.”
Vernon was still smiling.
“Oh!” he said; “it’s only the natural nervousness of a dog brought to a
strange house to change one master for another. Go along, Cragg. Show
the man into my study. I’ll come down in a moment.”
Still looking very doubtful, Cragg disappeared, shutting the door. We
three remained silent for a moment. Then Vernon said—
“I’m afraid you’re having a very fussy visit, Lord Elyn. Do sit down.
I’ll go and pay the man, and be back in a minute.”
It was evident to me that he wanted—wanted ungovernably—to see the dog
brought into the house. As he stopped speaking he was gone. He had
almost darted out of the room.
“Dear me!” said Lord Elyn. “Dear me.”
He was a delicate, naturally nervous man, and highly sensitive. I could
see plainly that he was upset, mystified by this affair of the arrival
of the dog. He looked at me as if inquiring of me what it all meant.
“I wonder⸺” he began.