The Thing was ugly, hairy, and horrible--a huge dark brown tarantula,
the size of a man's palm, which, the instant it was discovered, turned
and sped across the bedclothes and disappeared in the darkness.
Cardew had jumped to his feet with a wild, startled ejaculation of
horror, having switched on the light, but though we rapidly searched the
room high and low, yet nowhere could we find the horrible arachnid. But
the secret was out! The revolting hairy thing, which had on that night
in Arnay-le-Duc appeared to me like a weird hand, was that huge venomous
spider whose bite was as fatal as that of a cobra!
Armed with sticks, Cardew and I groped into every hole and corner of
that room, but it had vanished so suddenly that we could not decide in
which direction it had gone.
"Well!" gasped my friend, amazed. "By Gad! I never expected that!"
"Neither did I," was my breathless reply. "But the reason of poor Guy's
death is now vividly apparent. He was bitten by that arachnid, which
Shaw, in all probability, purposely left in his young friend's library,
prior to returning home on that fatal night. I think I realise the
truth!" I cried. "This particular species of lycosa tarantula is, I
have read, found in the primeval forests of Peru, and will only attack
human beings when they are motionless or asleep. Its bite is most
deadly. It causes stupor, followed by coma or paralysis, and the victim
rapidly dies. Yet if the mark of its bite be concealed and unsuspected,
as it may easily be in the hair, then the symptoms are identical with
those of inflammation of the brain--the disease which from poor Guy is
supposed to have died!"
"Then you suspect Shaw of having kept the horrible thing as a pet--eh!"
he gasped, staring at me amazed.
"Both as a pet and as an instrument of murder," I replied. "The thing
being nocturnal in its habits would, if introduced into a room, remain
carefully hidden all day, and only attack the victim at night while he
is sleeping. I had a narrow escape while motoring in France with
Shaw,"--and then, in a few words, I described my own experience, and
also Asta's previous sight of what had appeared to both of us as a
weird, uncanny hand.
"Then this scoundrel Shaw evidently intended that you should die!" he
exclaimed. "By Jove! old chap, you have had a narrow escape!"
"Yes. He must have carried his dangerous pet in secret in a box, I
suppose. And must have taken it away with him when he fled from Aix."
Then, suddenly recollecting that curious whistle of his, I realised how
Shaw had used it in order to recall the great spider.
"Put out the light, Cardew," I said. "Have your torch ready. I have an
idea."
"But--" he hesitated, in apprehension.
"Have no fear. We want to see the hideous thing again--and to kill it,"
I said.
The next second the room was once more in darkness, and after a few
moments I began to imitate softly that peculiar whistle that I had
learnt from Shaw.
Then we waited in breathless silence, not moving a muscle.
Again and again I whistled, but we could hear no movement. The huge
spider was, we felt assured, somewhere in the room, but where we could
not discover.
"Switch on the light," I cried at last, and in a second the place became
illuminated again, when, to our surprise, halfway down the
pink-and-white cretonne curtains at the head of the bed the ugly
arachnid, with its long claws, stood revealed and startled at the sudden
turning on of the light.
He had crept slowly down from the small canopy above the bed, seeking
the place where I had lain.
In an instant he turned to ascend the curtain again, but we were too
quick for him, for with two or three sharp cuts with our sticks we
brought him down, and he was quickly stretched dead upon the floor.
I went forth boldly to search for Shaw, but could not find him. His
room was in disorder, for he had apparently seized some things, packed
hurriedly and left.
The car we heard leaving the house while we were in Asta's bedroom had
evidently been his!
He had escaped at the very moment when we had discovered the ingenious
means by which he had committed his crimes.
We called the three doctors and showed them the huge dead spider. Then,
in a moment, all three agreed that Guy Nicholson had succumbed to its
bite, and examination of poor unconscious Asta's hair showed plainly
where she, too, had been bitten just above the right ear. The trio of
medical men stood utterly astounded. No time, however, was lost by Sir
George in applying various antidotes and restoratives, and by dawn he
came to me with the joyful news that she had taken a turn for the
better.
Our knowledge of the real cause of the ailment had only been gained in
the very nick of time.
Further examination of the walls of Asta's room resulted in the amazing
discovery that the door of a cupboard in the wall beside the fireplace
was warped and when closed left a space of an inch open at the bottom.
The cupboard was lined inside with wood panelling, and in one panel at
the back a tiny trapdoor about four inches square had been cut, so that
it could be removed from within the corresponding cupboard which was in
Shaw's room adjoining.
Investigation showed that the cupboard in question was the one secured
by those two patent locks, and on breaking it open we found that in it
Shaw had kept the venomous spider, for both water and food were there,
as well as a thick india-rubber glove which he no doubt used when he
wished to handle his hideous pet, and a small wire cage in which it
could be carried.
In order to release it into Asta's room he had only to move the small
piece of cut panel in the back of its place of imprisonment, and, glad
to escape, the thing would pass through, as no doubt it had done on the
night when my well-beloved had been attacked.
To recall it, Shaw had only to whistle. The spider knew the call.
After the attack upon Asta the scoundrel had evidently lost the reptile
in the confusion, and disliking the light it had found refuge on the
small cretonne canopy fixed against the ceiling, over the head of the
bed.
Knowledge that its bite had not proved fatal, as in Nicholson's case,
and that Asta might recover and describe what she had seen, together
with the fact that he had been unable to induce his pet to return to
him, had terrified him, and he had escaped.
Quickly I telephoned to the police in Northampton, and very soon two
officers came out on bicycles, and to them we made a statement. Then,
an hour later, a hue-and-cry was flashed across the wires for the
assassin's arrest.
Slowly--very slowly--Asta recovered consciousness, but I was not allowed
to see her, nor was she allowed, indeed, to speak.
Yet the knowledge that my beloved would again be given back to life was,
in itself, all-sufficient for me.
I had at least solved two points in that amazing mystery of avarice and
cunning. I had discovered the cruel ingenious manner in which Guy
Nicholson had been killed because of the knowledge he had accidentally
gained, and I had also established the fact that Shaw intended that poor
Asta should succumb.
But what was the motive of this double crime? That point was, in
itself, the most puzzling point of all.