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  The Brazilian Cat

  It is hard luck on a young fellow to have expensive tastes, greatexpectations, aristocratic connections, but no actual money in hispocket, and no profession by which he may earn any. The fact was thatmy father, a good, sanguine, easy-going man, had such confidence in thewealth and benevolence of his bachelor elder brother, Lord Southerton,that he took it for granted that I, his only son, would never be calledupon to earn a living for myself. He imagined that if there were not avacancy for me on the great Southerton Estates, at least there would befound some post in that diplomatic service which still remains thespecial preserve of our privileged classes. He died too early torealize how false his calculations had been. Neither my uncle nor theState took the slightest notice of me, or showed any interest in mycareer. An occasional brace of pheasants, or basket of hares, was allthat ever reached me to remind me that I was heir to Otwell House andone of the richest estates in the country. In the meantime, I foundmyself a bachelor and man about town, living in a suite of apartmentsin Grosvenor Mansions, with no occupation save that of pigeon-shootingand polo-playing at Hurlingham. Month by month I realized that it wasmore and more difficult to get the brokers to renew my bills, or tocash any further post-obits upon an unentailed property. Ruin layright across my path, and every day I saw it clearer, nearer, and moreabsolutely unavoidable.

  What made me feel my own poverty the more was that, apart from thegreat wealth of Lord Southerton, all my other relations were fairlywell-to-do. The nearest of these was Everard King, my father's nephewand my own first cousin, who had spent an adventurous life in Brazil,and had now returned to this country to settle down on his fortune. Wenever knew how he made his money, but he appeared to have plenty of it,for he bought the estate of Greylands, near Clipton-on-the-Marsh, inSuffolk. For the first year of his residence in England he took nomore notice of me than my miserly uncle; but at last one summermorning, to my very great relief and joy, I received a letter asking meto come down that very day and spend a short visit at Greylands Court.I was expecting a rather long visit to Bankruptcy Court at the time,and this interruption seemed almost providential. If I could only geton terms with this unknown relative of mine, I might pull through yet.For the family credit he could not let me go entirely to the wall. Iordered my valet to pack my valise, and I set off the same evening forClipton-on-the-Marsh.

  After changing at Ipswich, a little local train deposited me at asmall, deserted station lying amidst a rolling grassy country, with asluggish and winding river curving in and out amidst the valleys,between high, silted banks, which showed that we were within reach ofthe tide. No carriage was awaiting me (I found afterwards that mytelegram had been delayed), so I hired a dogcart at the local inn. Thedriver, an excellent fellow, was full of my relative's praises, and Ilearned from him that Mr. Everard King was already a name to conjurewith in that part of the county. He had entertained theschool-children, he had thrown his grounds open to visitors, he hadsubscribed to charities--in short, his benevolence had been souniversal that my driver could only account for it on the suppositionthat he had parliamentary ambitions.

  My attention was drawn away from my driver's panegyric by theappearance of a very beautiful bird which settled on a telegraph-postbeside the road. At first I thought that it was a jay, but it waslarger, with a brighter plumage. The driver accounted for its presenceat once by saying that it belonged to the very man whom we were aboutto visit. It seems that the acclimatization of foreign creatures wasone of his hobbies, and that he had brought with him from Brazil anumber of birds and beasts which he was endeavouring to rear inEngland. When once we had passed the gates of Greylands Park we hadample evidence of this taste of his. Some small spotted deer, acurious wild pig known, I believe, as a peccary, a gorgeously featheredoriole, some sort of armadillo, and a singular lumbering in-toed beastlike a very fat badger, were among the creatures which I observed as wedrove along the winding avenue.

  Mr. Everard King, my unknown cousin, was standing in person upon thesteps of his house, for he had seen us in the distance, and guessedthat it was I. His appearance was very homely and benevolent, shortand stout, forty-five years old, perhaps, with a round, good-humouredface, burned brown with the tropical sun, and shot with a thousandwrinkles. He wore white linen clothes, in true planter style, with acigar between his lips, and a large Panama hat upon the back of hishead. It was such a figure as one associates with a verandahedbungalow, and it looked curiously out of place in front of this broad,stone English mansion, with its solid wings and its Palladio pillarsbefore the doorway.

  "My dear!" he cried, glancing over his shoulder; "my dear, here is ourguest! Welcome, welcome to Greylands! I am delighted to make youracquaintance, Cousin Marshall, and I take it as a great compliment thatyou should honour this sleepy little country place with your presence."

  Nothing could be more hearty than his manner, and he set me at my easein an instant. But it needed all his cordiality to atone for thefrigidity and even rudeness of his wife, a tall, haggard woman, whocame forward at his summons. She was, I believe, of Brazilianextraction, though she spoke excellent English, and I excused hermanners on the score of her ignorance of our customs. She did notattempt to conceal, however, either then or afterwards, that I was novery welcome visitor at Greylands Court. Her actual words were, as arule, courteous, but she was the possessor of a pair of particularlyexpressive dark eyes, and I read in them very clearly from the firstthat she heartily wished me back in London once more.

  However, my debts were too pressing and my designs upon my wealthyrelative were too vital for me to allow them to be upset by theill-temper of his wife, so I disregarded her coldness and reciprocatedthe extreme cordiality of his welcome. No pains had been spared by himto make me comfortable. My room was a charming one. He implored me totell him anything which could add to my happiness. It was on the tipof my tongue to inform him that a blank cheque would materially helptowards that end, but I felt that it might be premature in the presentstate of our acquaintance. The dinner was excellent, and as we sattogether afterwards over his Havanas and coffee, which later he told mewas specially prepared upon his own plantation, it seemed to me thatall my driver's eulogies were justified, and that I had never met amore large-hearted and hospitable man.

  But, in spite of his cheery good nature, he was a man with a strongwill and a fiery temper of his own. Of this I had an example upon thefollowing morning. The curious aversion which Mrs. Everard King hadconceived towards me was so strong, that her manner at breakfast wasalmost offensive. But her meaning became unmistakable when her husbandhad quitted the room.

  "The best train in the day is at twelve-fifteen," said she.

  "But I was not thinking of going today," I answered, frankly--perhapseven defiantly, for I was determined not to be driven out by this woman.

  "Oh, if it rests with you--" said she, and stopped with a most insolentexpression in her eyes.

  "I am sure," I answered, "that Mr. Everard King would tell me if I wereoutstaying my welcome."

  "What's this? What's this?" said a voice, and there he was in theroom. He had overheard my last words, and a glance at our faces hadtold him the rest. In an instant his chubby, cheery face set into anexpression of absolute ferocity.

  "Might I trouble you to walk outside, Marshall?" said he. (I maymention that my own name is Marshall King.)

  He closed the door behind me, and then, for an instant, I heard himtalking in a low voice of concentrated passion to his wife. This grossbreach of hospitality had evidently hit upon his tenderest point. I amno eavesdropper, so I walked out on to the lawn. Presently I heard ahurried step behind me, and there was the lady, her face pale withexcitement, and her eyes red with tears.

  "My husband has asked me to apologize to you, Mr. Marshall King," saidshe, standing with downcast eyes before me.

  "Please do not say another word, Mrs. King."

  Her dark eyes suddenly blazed out at me.

  "You foo
l!" she hissed, with frantic vehemence, and turning on her heelswept back to the house.

  The insult was so outrageous, so insufferable, that I could only standstaring after her in bewilderment. I was still there when my hostjoined me. He was his cheery, chubby self once more.

  "I hope that my wife has apologized for her foolish remarks," said he.

  "Oh, yes--yes, certainly!"

  He put his hand through my arm and walked with me up and down the lawn.

  "You must not take it seriously," said he. "It would grieve meinexpressibly if you curtailed your visit by one hour. The factis--there is no reason why there should be any concealment betweenrelatives--that my poor dear wife is incredibly jealous. She hatesthat anyone--male or female--should for an instant come between us. Herideal is a desert island and an eternal tete-a-tete. That gives youthe clue to her actions, which are, I confess, upon this particularpoint, not very far removed from mania. Tell me that you will think nomore of it."

  "No, no; certainly not."

  "Then light this cigar and come round with me and see my littlemenagerie."

  The whole afternoon was occupied by this inspection, which included allthe birds, beasts, and even reptiles which he had imported. Some werefree, some in cages, a few actually in the house. He spoke withenthusiasm of his successes and his failures, his births and hisdeaths, and he would cry out in his delight, like a schoolboy, when, aswe walked, some gaudy bird would flutter up from the grass, or somecurious beast slink into the cover. Finally he led me down a corridorwhich extended from one wing of the house. At the end of this therewas a heavy door with a sliding shutter in it, and beside it thereprojected from the wall an iron handle attached to a wheel and a drum.A line of stout bars extended across the passage.

  "I am about to show you the jewel of my collection," said he. "There isonly one other specimen in Europe, now that the Rotterdam cub is dead.It is a Brazilian cat."

  "But how does that differ from any other cat?"

  "You will soon see that," said he, laughing. "Will you kindly drawthat shutter and look through?"

  I did so, and found that I was gazing into a large, empty room, withstone flags, and small, barred windows upon the farther wall. In thecentre of this room, lying in the middle of a golden patch of sunlight,there was stretched a huge creature, as large as a tiger, but as blackand sleek as ebony. It was simply a very enormous and very well-keptblack cat, and it cuddled up and basked in that yellow pool of lightexactly as a cat would do. It was so graceful, so sinewy, and sogently and smoothly diabolical, that I could not take my eyes from theopening.

  "Isn't he splendid?" said my host, enthusiastically.

  "Glorious! I never saw such a noble creature."

  "Some people call it a black puma, but really it is not a puma at all.That fellow is nearly eleven feet from tail to tip. Four years ago hewas a little ball of black fluff, with two yellow eyes staring out ofit. He was sold me as a new-born cub up in the wild country at thehead-waters of the Rio Negro. They speared his mother to death aftershe had killed a dozen of them."

  "They are ferocious, then?"

  "The most absolutely treacherous and bloodthirsty creatures upon earth.You talk about a Brazilian cat to an up-country Indian, and see him getthe jumps. They prefer humans to game. This fellow has never tastedliving blood yet, but when he does he will be a terror. At present hewon't stand anyone but me in his den. Even Baldwin, the groom, darenot go near him. As to me, I am his mother and father in one."

  As he spoke he suddenly, to my astonishment, opened the door andslipped in, closing it instantly behind him. At the sound of his voicethe huge, lithe creature rose, yawned and rubbed its round, black headaffectionately against his side, while he patted and fondled it.

  "Now, Tommy, into your cage!" said he.

  The monstrous cat walked over to one side of the room and coiled itselfup under a grating. Everard King came out, and taking the iron handlewhich I have mentioned, he began to turn it. As he did so the line ofbars in the corridor began to pass through a slot in the wall andclosed up the front of this grating, so as to make an effective cage.When it was in position he opened the door once more and invited meinto the room, which was heavy with the pungent, musty smell peculiarto the great carnivora.

  "That's how we work it," said he. "We give him the run of the room forexercise, and then at night we put him in his cage. You can let himout by turning the handle from the passage, or you can, as you haveseen, coop him up in the same way. No, no, you should not do that!"

  I had put my hand between the bars to pat the glossy, heaving flank.He pulled it back, with a serious face.

  "I assure you that he is not safe. Don't imagine that because I cantake liberties with him anyone else can. He is very exclusive in hisfriends--aren't you, Tommy? Ah, he hears his lunch coming to him!Don't you, boy?"

  A step sounded in the stone-flagged passage, and the creature hadsprung to his feet, and was pacing up and down the narrow cage, hisyellow eyes gleaming, and his scarlet tongue rippling and quiveringover the white line of his jagged teeth. A groom entered with a coarsejoint upon a tray, and thrust it through the bars to him. He pouncedlightly upon it, carried it off to the corner, and there, holding itbetween his paws, tore and wrenched at it, raising his bloody muzzleevery now and then to look at us. It was a malignant and yetfascinating sight.

  "You can't wonder that I am fond of him, can you?" said my host, as weleft the room, "especially when you consider that I have had therearing of him. It was no joke bringing him over from the centre ofSouth America; but here he is safe and sound--and, as I have said, farthe most perfect specimen in Europe. The people at the Zoo are dyingto have him, but I really can't part with him. Now, I think that I haveinflicted my hobby upon you long enough, so we cannot do better thanfollow Tommy's example, and go to our lunch."

  My South American relative was so engrossed by his grounds and theircurious occupants, that I hardly gave him credit at first for havingany interests outside them. That he had some, and pressing ones, wassoon borne in upon me by the number of telegrams which he received.They arrived at all hours, and were always opened by him with theutmost eagerness and anxiety upon his face. Sometimes I imagined thatit must be the Turf, and sometimes the Stock Exchange, but certainly hehad some very urgent business going forwards which was not transactedupon the Downs of Suffolk. During the six days of my visit he had neverfewer than three or four telegrams a day, and sometimes as many asseven or eight.

  I had occupied these six days so well, that by the end of them I hadsucceeded in getting upon the most cordial terms with my cousin. Everynight we had sat up late in the billiard-room, he telling me the mostextraordinary stories of his adventures in America--stories sodesperate and reckless, that I could hardly associate them with thebrown little, chubby man before me. In return, I ventured upon some ofmy own reminiscences of London life, which interested him so much, thathe vowed he would come up to Grosvenor Mansions and stay with me. Hewas anxious to see the faster side of city life, and certainly, thoughI say it, he could not have chosen a more competent guide. It was notuntil the last day of my visit that I ventured to approach that whichwas on my mind. I told him frankly about my pecuniary difficulties andmy impending ruin, and I asked his advice--though I hoped for somethingmore solid. He listened attentively, puffing hard at his cigar.

  "But surely," said he, "you are the heir of our relative, LordSoutherton?"

  "I have every reason to believe so, but he would never make me anyallowance."

  "No, no, I have heard of his miserly ways. My poor Marshall, yourposition has been a very hard one. By the way, have you heard any newsof Lord Southerton's health lately?"

  "He has always been in a critical condition ever since my childhood."

  "Exactly--a creaking hinge, if ever there was one. Your inheritancemay be a long way off. Dear me, how awkwardly situated you are!"

  "I had some hopes, sir, that you, knowing all the facts, might be
inclined to advance----"

  "Don't say another word, my dear boy," he cried, with the utmostcordiality; "we shall talk it over tonight, and I give you my word thatwhatever is in my power shall be done."

  I was not sorry that my visit was drawing to a close, for it isunpleasant to feel that there is one person in the house who eagerlydesires your departure. Mrs. King's sallow face and forbidding eyeshad become more and more hateful to me. She was no longer activelyrude--her fear of her husband prevented her--but she pushed her insanejealousy to the extent of ignoring me, never addressing me, and inevery way making my stay at Greylands as uncomfortable as she could.So offensive was her manner during that last day, that I shouldcertainly have left had it not been for that interview with my host inthe evening which would, I hoped, retrieve my broken fortunes.

  It was very late when it occurred, for my relative, who had beenreceiving even more telegrams than usual during the day, went off tohis study after dinner, and only emerged when the household had retiredto bed. I heard him go round locking the doors, as custom was of anight, and finally he joined me in the billiard-room. His stout figurewas wrapped in a dressing-gown, and he wore a pair of red Turkishslippers without any heels. Settling down into an arm-chair, he brewedhimself a glass of grog, in which I could not help noticing that thewhisky considerably predominated over the water.

  "My word!" said he, "what a night!"

  It was, indeed. The wind was howling and screaming round the house,and the latticed windows rattled and shook as if they were coming in.The glow of the yellow lamps and the flavour of our cigars seemed thebrighter and more fragrant for the contrast.

  "Now, my boy," said my host, "we have the house and the night toourselves. Let me have an idea of how your affairs stand, and I willsee what can be done to set them in order. I wish to hear everydetail."

  Thus encouraged, I entered into a long exposition, in which all mytradesmen and creditors from my landlord to my valet, figured in turn.I had notes in my pocket-book, and I marshalled my facts, and gave, Iflatter myself, a very businesslike statement of my own unbusinesslikeways and lamentable position. I was depressed, however, to notice thatmy companion's eyes were vacant and his attention elsewhere. When hedid occasionally throw out a remark it was so entirely perfunctory andpointless, that I was sure he had not in the least followed my remarks.Every now and then he roused himself and put on some show of interest,asking me to repeat or to explain more fully, but it was always to sinkonce more into the same brown study. At last he rose and threw the endof his cigar into the grate.

  "I'll tell you what, my boy," said he. "I never had a head forfigures, so you will excuse me. You must jot it all down upon paper,and let me have a note of the amount. I'll understand it when I see itin black and white."

  The proposal was encouraging. I promised to do so.

  "And now it's time we were in bed. By Jove, there's one o'clockstriking in the hall."

  The tingling of the chiming clock broke through the deep roar of thegale. The wind was sweeping past with the rush of a great river.

  "I must see my cat before I go to bed," said my host. "A high windexcites him. Will you come?"

  "Certainly," said I.

  "Then tread softly and don't speak, for everyone is asleep."

  We passed quietly down the lamp-lit Persian-rugged hall, and throughthe door at the farther end. All was dark in the stone corridor, but astable lantern hung on a hook, and my host took it down and lit it.There was no grating visible in the passage, so I knew that the beastwas in its cage.

  "Come in!" said my relative, and opened the door.

  A deep growling as we entered showed that the storm had really excitedthe creature. In the flickering light of the lantern, we saw it, ahuge black mass coiled in the corner of its den and throwing a squat,uncouth shadow upon the whitewashed wall. Its tail switched angrilyamong the straw.

  "Poor Tommy is not in the best of tempers," said Everard King, holdingup the lantern and looking in at him. "What a black devil he looks,doesn't he? I must give him a little supper to put him in a betterhumour. Would you mind holding the lantern for a moment?"

  I took it from his hand and he stepped to the door.

  "His larder is just outside here," said he. "You will excuse me for aninstant won't you?" He passed out, and the door shut with a sharpmetallic click behind him.

  That hard crisp sound made my heart stand still. A sudden wave ofterror passed over me. A vague perception of some monstrous treacheryturned me cold. I sprang to the door, but there was no handle upon theinner side.

  "Here!" I cried. "Let me out!"

  "All right! Don't make a row!" said my host from the passage. "You'vegot the light all right."

  "Yes, but I don't care about being locked in alone like this."

  "Don't you?" I heard his hearty, chuckling laugh. "You won't be alonelong."

  "Let me out, sir!" I repeated angrily. "I tell you I don't allowpractical jokes of this sort."

  "Practical is the word," said he, with another hateful chuckle. Andthen suddenly I heard, amidst the roar of the storm, the creak andwhine of the winch-handle turning and the rattle of the grating as itpassed through the slot. Great God, he was letting loose the Braziliancat!

  In the light of the lantern I saw the bars sliding slowly before me.Already there was an opening a foot wide at the farther end. With ascream I seized the last bar with my hands and pulled with the strengthof a madman. I WAS a madman with rage and horror. For a minute ormore I held the thing motionless. I knew that he was straining withall his force upon the handle, and that the leverage was sure toovercome me. I gave inch by inch, my feet sliding along the stones,and all the time I begged and prayed this inhuman monster to save mefrom this horrible death. I conjured him by his kinship. I remindedhim that I was his guest; I begged to know what harm I had ever donehim. His only answers were the tugs and jerks upon the handle, each ofwhich, in spite of all my struggles, pulled another bar through theopening. Clinging and clutching, I was dragged across the whole frontof the cage, until at last, with aching wrists and lacerated fingers, Igave up the hopeless struggle. The grating clanged back as I releasedit, and an instant later I heard the shuffle of the Turkish slippers inthe passage, and the slam of the distant door. Then everything wassilent.

  The creature had never moved during this time. He lay still in thecorner, and his tail had ceased switching. This apparition of a manadhering to his bars and dragged screaming across him had apparentlyfilled him with amazement. I saw his great eyes staring steadily atme. I had dropped the lantern when I seized the bars, but it stillburned upon the floor, and I made a movement to grasp it, with someidea that its light might protect me. But the instant I moved, thebeast gave a deep and menacing growl. I stopped and stood still,quivering with fear in every limb. The cat (if one may call so fearfula creature by so homely a name) was not more than ten feet from me.The eyes glimmered like two disks of phosphorus in the darkness. Theyappalled and yet fascinated me. I could not take my own eyes fromthem. Nature plays strange tricks with us at such moments ofintensity, and those glimmering lights waxed and waned with a steadyrise and fall. Sometimes they seemed to be tiny points of extremebrilliancy--little electric sparks in the black obscurity--then theywould widen and widen until all that corner of the room was filled withtheir shifting and sinister light. And then suddenly they went outaltogether.

  The beast had closed its eyes. I do not know whether there may be anytruth in the old idea of the dominance of the human gaze, or whetherthe huge cat was simply drowsy, but the fact remains that, far fromshowing any symptom of attacking me, it simply rested its sleek, blackhead upon its huge forepaws and seemed to sleep. I stood, fearing tomove lest I should rouse it into malignant life once more. But atleast I was able to think clearly now that the baleful eyes were offme. Here I was shut up for the night with the ferocious beast. My owninstincts, to say nothing of the words of the plausible villain wholaid this trap fo
r me, warned me that the animal was as savage as itsmaster. How could I stave it off until morning? The door washopeless, and so were the narrow, barred windows. There was no shelteranywhere in the bare, stone-flagged room. To cry for assistance wasabsurd. I knew that this den was an outhouse, and that the corridorwhich connected it with the house was at least a hundred feet long.Besides, with the gale thundering outside, my cries were not likely tobe heard. I had only my own courage and my own wits to trust to.

  And then, with a fresh wave of horror, my eyes fell upon the lantern.The candle had burned low, and was already beginning to gutter. In tenminutes it would be out. I had only ten minutes then in which to dosomething, for I felt that if I were once left in the dark with thatfearful beast I should be incapable of action. The very thought of itparalysed me. I cast my despairing eyes round this chamber of death,and they rested upon one spot which seemed to promise I will not saysafety, but less immediate and imminent danger than the open floor.

  I have said that the cage had a top as well as a front, and this topwas left standing when the front was wound through the slot in thewall. It consisted of bars at a few inches' interval, with stout wirenetting between, and it rested upon a strong stanchion at each end. Itstood now as a great barred canopy over the crouching figure in thecorner. The space between this iron shelf and the roof may have beenfrom two or three feet. If I could only get up there, squeezed inbetween bars and ceiling, I should have only one vulnerable side. Ishould be safe from below, from behind, and from each side. Only onthe open face of it could I be attacked. There, it is true, I had noprotection whatever; but at least, I should be out of the brute's pathwhen he began to pace about his den. He would have to come out of hisway to reach me. It was now or never, for if once the light were outit would be impossible. With a gulp in my throat I sprang up, seizedthe iron edge of the top, and swung myself panting on to it. I writhedin face downwards, and found myself looking straight into the terribleeyes and yawning jaws of the cat. Its fetid breath came up into myface like the steam from some foul pot.

  It appeared, however, to be rather curious than angry. With a sleekripple of its long, black back it rose, stretched itself, and thenrearing itself on its hind legs, with one forepaw against the wall, itraised the other, and drew its claws across the wire meshes beneath me.One sharp, white hook tore through my trousers--for I may mention thatI was still in evening dress--and dug a furrow in my knee. It was notmeant as an attack, but rather as an experiment, for upon my giving asharp cry of pain he dropped down again, and springing lightly into theroom, he began walking swiftly round it, looking up every now and againin my direction. For my part I shuffled backwards until I lay with myback against the wall, screwing myself into the smallest spacepossible. The farther I got the more difficult it was for him toattack me.

  He seemed more excited now that he had begun to move about, and he ranswiftly and noiselessly round and round the den, passing continuallyunderneath the iron couch upon which I lay. It was wonderful to see sogreat a bulk passing like a shadow, with hardly the softest thudding ofvelvety pads. The candle was burning low--so low that I could hardlysee the creature. And then, with a last flare and splutter it went outaltogether. I was alone with the cat in the dark!

  It helps one to face a danger when one knows that one has done all thatpossibly can be done. There is nothing for it then but to quietlyawait the result. In this case, there was no chance of safety anywhereexcept the precise spot where I was. I stretched myself out,therefore, and lay silently, almost breathlessly, hoping that the beastmight forget my presence if I did nothing to remind him. I reckonedthat it must already be two o'clock. At four it would be full dawn. Ihad not more than two hours to wait for daylight.

  Outside, the storm was still raging, and the rain lashed continuallyagainst the little windows. Inside, the poisonous and fetid air wasoverpowering. I could neither hear nor see the cat. I tried to thinkabout other things--but only one had power enough to draw my mind frommy terrible position. That was the contemplation of my cousin'svillainy, his unparalleled hypocrisy, his malignant hatred of me.Beneath that cheerful face there lurked the spirit of a mediaevalassassin. And as I thought of it I saw more clearly how cunningly thething had been arranged. He had apparently gone to bed with theothers. No doubt he had his witness to prove it. Then, unknown tothem, he had slipped down, had lured me into his den and abandoned me.His story would be so simple. He had left me to finish my cigar in thebilliard-room. I had gone down on my own account to have a last look atthe cat. I had entered the room without observing that the cage wasopened, and I had been caught. How could such a crime be brought hometo him? Suspicion, perhaps--but proof, never!

  How slowly those dreadful two hours went by! Once I heard a low,rasping sound, which I took to be the creature licking its own fur.Several times those greenish eyes gleamed at me through the darkness,but never in a fixed stare, and my hopes grew stronger that my presencehad been forgotten or ignored. At last the least faint glimmer oflight came through the windows--I first dimly saw them as two greysquares upon the black wall, then grey turned to white, and I could seemy terrible companion once more. And he, alas, could see me!

  It was evident to me at once that he was in a much more dangerous andaggressive mood than when I had seen him last. The cold of the morninghad irritated him, and he was hungry as well. With a continual growl hepaced swiftly up and down the side of the room which was farthest frommy refuge, his whiskers bristling angrily, and his tail switching andlashing. As he turned at the corners his savage eyes always lookedupwards at me with a dreadful menace. I knew then that he meant tokill me. Yet I found myself even at that moment admiring the sinuousgrace of the devilish thing, its long, undulating, rippling movements,the gloss of its beautiful flanks, the vivid, palpitating scarlet ofthe glistening tongue which hung from the jet-black muzzle. And allthe time that deep, threatening growl was rising and rising in anunbroken crescendo. I knew that the crisis was at hand.

  It was a miserable hour to meet such a death--so cold, so comfortless,shivering in my light dress clothes upon this gridiron of torment uponwhich I was stretched. I tried to brace myself to it, to raise my soulabove it, and at the same time, with the lucidity which comes to aperfectly desperate man, I cast round for some possible means ofescape. One thing was clear to me. If that front of the cage was onlyback in its position once more, I could find a sure refuge behind it.Could I possibly pull it back? I hardly dared to move for fear ofbringing the creature upon me. Slowly, very slowly, I put my handforward until it grasped the edge of the front, the final bar whichprotruded through the wall. To my surprise it came quite easily to myjerk. Of course the difficulty of drawing it out arose from the factthat I was clinging to it. I pulled again, and three inches of it camethrough. It ran apparently on wheels. I pulled again ... and thenthe cat sprang!

  It was so quick, so sudden, that I never saw it happen. I simply heardthe savage snarl, and in an instant afterwards the blazing yellow eyes,the flattened black head with its red tongue and flashing teeth, werewithin reach of me. The impact of the creature shook the bars uponwhich I lay, until I thought (as far as I could think of anything atsuch a moment) that they were coming down. The cat swayed there for aninstant, the head and front paws quite close to me, the hind pawsclawing to find a grip upon the edge of the grating. I heard the clawsrasping as they clung to the wire-netting, and the breath of the beastmade me sick. But its bound had been miscalculated. It could notretain its position. Slowly, grinning with rage, and scratching madlyat the bars, it swung backwards and dropped heavily upon the floor.With a growl it instantly faced round to me and crouched for anotherspring.

  I knew that the next few moments would decide my fate. The creaturehad learned by experience. It would not miscalculate again. I mustact promptly, fearlessly, if I were to have a chance for life. In aninstant I had formed my plan. Pulling off my dress-coat, I threw itdown over the head of the beast. At the same
moment I dropped over theedge, seized the end of the front grating, and pulled it franticallyout of the wall.

  It came more easily than I could have expected. I rushed across theroom, bearing it with me; but, as I rushed, the accident of my positionput me upon the outer side. Had it been the other way, I might havecome off scathless. As it was, there was a moment's pause as I stoppedit and tried to pass in through the opening which I had left. Thatmoment was enough to give time to the creature to toss off the coatwith which I had blinded him and to spring upon me. I hurled myselfthrough the gap and pulled the rails to behind me, but he seized my legbefore I could entirely withdraw it. One stroke of that huge paw toreoff my calf as a shaving of wood curls off before a plane. The nextmoment, bleeding and fainting, I was lying among the foul straw with aline of friendly bars between me and the creature which ramped sofrantically against them.

  Too wounded to move, and too faint to be conscious of fear, I couldonly lie, more dead than alive, and watch it. It pressed its broad,black chest against the bars and angled for me with its crooked paws asI have seen a kitten do before a mouse-trap. It ripped my clothes,but, stretch as it would, it could not quite reach me. I have heard ofthe curious numbing effect produced by wounds from the great carnivora,and now I was destined to experience it, for I had lost all sense ofpersonality, and was as interested in the cat's failure or success asif it were some game which I was watching. And then gradually my minddrifted away into strange vague dreams, always with that black face andred tongue coming back into them, and so I lost myself in the nirvanaof delirium, the blessed relief of those who are too sorely tried.

  Tracing the course of events afterwards, I conclude that I must havebeen insensible for about two hours. What roused me to consciousnessonce more was that sharp metallic click which had been the precursor ofmy terrible experience. It was the shooting back of the spring lock.Then, before my senses were clear enough to entirely apprehend whatthey saw, I was aware of the round, benevolent face of my cousinpeering in through the open door. What he saw evidently amazed him.There was the cat crouching on the floor. I was stretched upon my backin my shirt-sleeves within the cage, my trousers torn to ribbons and agreat pool of blood all round me. I can see his amazed face now, withthe morning sunlight upon it. He peered at me, and peered again. Thenhe closed the door behind him, and advanced to the cage to see if Iwere really dead.

  I cannot undertake to say what happened. I was not in a fit state towitness or to chronicle such events. I can only say that I wassuddenly conscious that his face was away from me--that he was lookingtowards the animal.

  "Good old Tommy!" he cried. "Good old Tommy!"

  Then he came near the bars, with his back still towards me.

  "Down, you stupid beast!" he roared. "Down, sir! Don't you know yourmaster?"

  Suddenly even in my bemuddled brain a remembrance came of those wordsof his when he had said that the taste of blood would turn the cat intoa fiend. My blood had done it, but he was to pay the price.

  "Get away!" he screamed. "Get away, you devil! Baldwin! Baldwin! Oh,my God!"

  And then I heard him fall, and rise, and fall again, with a sound likethe ripping of sacking. His screams grew fainter until they were lostin the worrying snarl. And then, after I thought that he was dead, Isaw, as in a nightmare, a blinded, tattered, blood-soaked figurerunning wildly round the room--and that was the last glimpse which Ihad of him before I fainted once again.

  I was many months in my recovery--in fact, I cannot say that I haveever recovered, for to the end of my days I shall carry a stick as asign of my night with the Brazilian cat. Baldwin, the groom, and theother servants could not tell what had occurred, when, drawn by thedeath-cries of their master, they found me behind the bars, and hisremains--or what they afterwards discovered to be his remains--in theclutch of the creature which he had reared. They stalled him off withhot irons, and afterwards shot him through the loophole of the doorbefore they could finally extricate me. I was carried to my bedroom,and there, under the roof of my would-be murderer, I remained betweenlife and death for several weeks. They had sent for a surgeon fromClipton and a nurse from London, and in a month I was able to becarried to the station, and so conveyed back once more to GrosvenorMansions.

  I have one remembrance of that illness, which might have been part ofthe ever-changing panorama conjured up by a delirious brain were it notso definitely fixed in my memory. One night, when the nurse wasabsent, the door of my chamber opened, and a tall woman in blackestmourning slipped into the room. She came across to me, and as she benther sallow face I saw by the faint gleam of the night-light that it wasthe Brazilian woman whom my cousin had married. She stared intentlyinto my face, and her expression was more kindly than I had ever seenit.

  "Are you conscious?" she asked.

  I feebly nodded--for I was still very weak.

  "Well; then, I only wished to say to you that you have yourself toblame. Did I not do all I could for you? From the beginning I triedto drive you from the house. By every means, short of betraying myhusband, I tried to save you from him. I knew that he had a reason forbringing you here. I knew that he would never let you get away again.No one knew him as I knew him, who had suffered from him so often. Idid not dare to tell you all this. He would have killed me. But I didmy best for you. As things have turned out, you have been the bestfriend that I have ever had. You have set me free, and I fancied thatnothing but death would do that. I am sorry if you are hurt, but Icannot reproach myself. I told you that you were a fool--and a foolyou have been." She crept out of the room, the bitter, singular woman,and I was never destined to see her again. With what remained from herhusband's property she went back to her native land, and I have heardthat she afterwards took the veil at Pernambuco.

  It was not until I had been back in London for some time that thedoctors pronounced me to be well enough to do business. It was not avery welcome permission to me, for I feared that it would be the signalfor an inrush of creditors; but it was Summers, my lawyer, who firsttook advantage of it.

  "I am very glad to see that your lordship is so much better," said he."I have been waiting a long time to offer my congratulations."

  "What do you mean, Summers? This is no time for joking."

  "I mean what I say," he answered. "You have been Lord Southerton forthe last six weeks, but we feared that it would retard your recovery ifyou were to learn it."

  Lord Southerton! One of the richest peers in England! I could notbelieve my ears. And then suddenly I thought of the time which hadelapsed, and how it coincided with my injuries.

  "Then Lord Southerton must have died about the same time that I washurt?"

  "His death occurred upon that very day." Summers looked hard at me asI spoke, and I am convinced--for he was a very shrewd fellow--that hehad guessed the true state of the case. He paused for a moment as ifawaiting a confidence from me, but I could not see what was to begained by exposing such a family scandal.

  "Yes, a very curious coincidence," he continued, with the same knowinglook. "Of course, you are aware that your cousin Everard King was thenext heir to the estates. Now, if it had been you instead of him whohad been torn to pieces by this tiger, or whatever it was, then ofcourse he would have been Lord Southerton at the present moment."

  "No doubt," said I.

  "And he took such an interest in it," said Summers. "I happen to knowthat the late Lord Southerton's valet was in his pay, and that he usedto have telegrams from him every few hours to tell him how he wasgetting on. That would be about the time when you were down there.Was it not strange that he should wish to be so well informed, since heknew that he was not the direct heir?"

  "Very strange," said I. "And now, Summers, if you will bring me mybills and a new cheque-book, we will begin to get things into order."

  Tales of Mystery