Round the Fire Stories - Page 51

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 or moreI held the thing motionless. I knew that he was straining with all hisforce upon the handle, and that the leverage was sure to overcome me. Igave inch by inch, my feet sliding along the stones, and all the time Ibegged and prayed this inhuman monster to save me from this horribledeath. I conjured him by his kinship. I reminded him that I was hisguest; I begged to know what harm I had ever done him. His only answerswere the tugs and jerks upon the handle, each of which, in spite of allmy struggles, pulled another bar through the opening. Clinging andclutching, I was dragged across the whole front of the cage, until atlast, with aching wrists and lacerated fingers, I gave up the hopelessstruggle. The grating clanged back as I released it, and an instantlater I heard the shuffle of the Turkish slippers in the passage, andthe slam of the distant door. Then everything was silent.

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 at me.I had dropped the lantern when I seized the bars, but it still burnedupon the floor, and I made a movement to grasp it, with some idea thatits light might protect me. But the instant I moved, the beast gave adeep and menacing growl. I stopped and stood still, quivering with fearin every limb. The cat (if one may call so fearful a creature by sohomely a name) was not more than ten feet from me. The eyes glimmeredlike two discs of phosphorus in the darkness. They appalled and yetfascinated me. I could not take my own eyes from them. Nature playsstrange tricks with us at such moments of intensity, and thoseglimmering lights waxed and waned with a steady rise and fall. Sometimesthey seemed to be tiny points of extreme brilliancy—little electricsparks in the black obscurity—then they would widen and widen until allthat corner of the room was filled with their shifting and sinisterlight. And then suddenly they went out altogether.

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 whether thehuge cat was simply drowsy, but the fact remains that, far from showingany symptom of attacking me, it simply rested its sleek, black head uponits huge

forepaws and seemed to sleep. I stood, fearing to move lest Ishould rouse it into malignant life once more. But at least I was ableto think clearly now that the baleful eyes were off me. Here I was shutup for the night with the ferocious beast. My own instincts, to saynothing of the words of the plausible villain who laid this trap for me,warned me that the animal was as savage as its master. How could I staveit off until morning? The door was hopeless, and so were the narrow,barred windows. There was no shelter anywhere in the bare, stone-flaggedroom. To cry for assistance was absurd. I knew that this den was anouthouse, and that the corridor which connected it with the house was atleast a hundred feet long. Besides, with that gale thundering outside,my cries were not likely to be heard. I had only my own courage and myown 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 itparalyzed me. I cast my despairing eyes round this chamber of death, andthey rested upon one spot which seemed to promise I will not say safety,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 top wasleft standing when the front was wound through the slot in the wall. Itconsisted of bars at a few inches’ interval, with stout wire nettingbetween, and it rested upon a strong stanchion at each end. It stood nowas a great barred canopy over the crouching figure in the corner. Thespace between this iron shelf and the roof may have been from two tothree feet. If I could only get up there, squeezed in between bars andceiling, I should have only one vulnerable side. I should be safe frombelow, from behind, and from each side. Only on the open face of itcould I be attacked. There, it is true, I had no protection whatever;but, at least, I should be out of the brute’s path when he began to paceabout his den. He would have to come out of his way to reach me. It wasnow or never, for if once the light were out it would be impossible.With a gulp in my throat I sprang up, seized the iron edge of the top,and swung myself panting on to it. I writhed in face downwards, andfound myself looking straight into the terrible eyes and yawning jaws ofthe cat. Its fetid breath came up into my face like the steam from somefoul 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 fore paw 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 that Iwas still in evening dress—and dug a furrow in my knee. It was not meantas an attack, but rather as an experiment, for upon my giving a sharpcry of pain he dropped down again, and springing lightly into the room,he began walking swiftly round it, looking up every now and again in mydirection. For my part I shuffled backwards until I lay with my backagainst the wall, screwing myself into the smallest space possible. Thefarther I got the more difficult it was for him to attack 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 hardly seethe 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 quietly awaitthe result. In this case, there was no chance of safety anywhere exceptthe precise spot where I was. I stretched myself out, therefore, and laysilently, almost breathlessly, hoping that the beast might forget mypresence if I did nothing to remind him. I reckoned that it must alreadybe two o’clock. At four it would be full dawn. I had not more than twohours 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 from myterrible position. That was the contemplation of my cousin’s villainy,his unparalleled hypocrisy, his malignant hatred of me. Beneath thatcheerful face there lurked the spirit of a mediæval assassin. And as Ithought of it I saw more clearly how cunningly the thing had beenarranged. He had apparently gone to bed with the others. No doubt he hadhis witnesses to prove it. Then, unknown to them, he had slipped down,had lured me into this den and abandoned me. His story would be sosimple. He had left me to finish my cigar in the billiard-room. I hadgone down on my own account to have a last look at the cat. I hadentered the room without observing that the cage was opened, and I hadbeen caught. How could such a crime be brought home to him? Suspicion,perhaps—but proof, never!

How slowly those dreadful two hours went by! Once I heard a low, raspingsound, which I took to be the creature licking its own fur. Severaltimes those greenish eyes gleamed at me through the darkness, but neverin a fixed stare, and my hopes grew stronger that my presence had beenforgotten or ignored. At last the least faint glimmer of light camethrough the windows—I first dimly saw them as two grey squares upon theblack wall, then grey turned to white, and I could see my terriblecompanion 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 to killme. Yet I found myself even at that moment admiring the sinuous grace ofthe devilish thing, its long, undulating, rippling movements, the glossof its beautiful flanks, the vivid, palpitating scarlet of theglistening tongue which hung from the jet-black muzzle. And all the timethat deep, threatening growl was rising and rising in an unbrokencrescendo. 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 of escape.One thing was clear to me. If that front of the cage was only back inits position once more, I could find a sure refuge behind it. Could Ipossibly pull it back? I hardly dared to move for fear of bringing thecreature upon me. Slowly, very slowly, I put my hand forward until itgrasped the edge of the front, the final bar which protruded through thewall. To my surprise it came quite easily to my jerk. Of course thedifficulty of drawing it out arose from the fact that I was clinging toit. I pulled again, and three inches of it came through. It ranapparently on wheels. I pulled again ... and then the 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 upon whichI lay, until I thought (as far as I could think of anything at such amoment) that they were coming down. The cat swayed there for an instant,the head and front paws quite close to me, the hind paws clawing to finda grip upon the edge of the grating. I heard the claws rasping as theyclung to the wire netting, and the breath of the beast made me sick. Butits bound had been miscalculated. It could not retain its position.Slowly, grinning with rage and scratching madly at the bars, it swungbackwards and dropped heavily upon the floor. With a growl it instantlyfaced round to me and crouched for another spring.

I knew that the ne

xt few moments would decide my fate. The creature hadlearned by experience. It would not miscalculate again. I must actpromptly, fearlessly, if I were to have a chance for life. In an instantI had formed my plan. Pulling off my dress-coat, I threw it down overthe head of the beast. At the same moment I dropped over the edge,seized the end of the front grating, and pulled it frantically out ofthe 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 have comeoff scathless. As it was, there was a moment’s pause as I stopped it andtried to pass in through the opening which I had left. That moment wasenough to give time to the creature to toss off the coat with which Ihad blinded him and to spring upon me. I hurled myself through the gapand pulled the rails to behind me, but he seized my leg before I couldentirely withdraw it. One stroke of that huge paw tore off my calf as ashaving of wood curls off before a plane. The next moment, bleeding andfainting, I was lying among the foul straw with a line of friendly barsbetween me and the creature which ramped so frantically against them.

Too wounded to move, and too faint to be conscious of fear, I could onlylie, more dead than alive, and watch it. It pressed its broad, blackchest against the bars and angled for me with its crooked paws as I haveseen a kitten do before a mouse-trap. It ripped my clothes, but, stretchas it would, it could not quite reach me. I have heard of the curiousnumbing effect produced by wounds from the great carnivora, and now Iwas destined to experience it, for I had lost all sense of personality,and was as interested in the cat’s failure or success as if it were somegame which I was watching. And then gradually my mind drifted away intostrange, vague dreams, always with that black face and red tongue comingback into them, and so I lost myself in the nirvana of delirium, theblessed 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 what theysaw, I was aware of the round, benevolent face of my cousin peering inthrough the opened door. What he saw evidently amazed him. There was thecat crouching on the floor. I was stretched upon my back in myshirtsleeves within the cage, my trousers torn to ribbons and a greatpool of blood all round me. I can see his amazed face now, with themorning sunlight upon it. He peered at me, and peered again. Then heclosed the door behind him, and advanced to the cage to see if I werereally 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 was suddenlyconscious that his face was away from me—that he was looking towards theanimal.

“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 words ofhis when he had said that the taste of blood would turn the cat into afiend. My blood had done it, but he was to pay the price.

“Get away!” he screamed. “Get away, you devil! Baldwin! Baldwin! Oh, myGod!”

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 lost inthe worrying snarl. And then, after I thought that he was dead, I saw,as in a nightmare, a blinded, tattered, blood-soaked figure runningwildly round the room—and that was the last glimpse which I had of himbefore I fainted once again.

* * * * *

I was many months in my recovery—in fact, I cannot say that I have everrecovered, for to the end of my days I shall carry a stick as a sign ofmy night with the Brazilian cat. Baldwin, the groom, and the otherservants could not tell what had occurred when, drawn by the death criesof their master, they found me behind the bars, and his remains—or whatthey afterwards discovered to be his remains—in the clutch of thecreature which he had reared. They stalled him off with hot irons, andafterwards shot him through the loophole of the door before they couldfinally extricate me. I was carried to my bedroom, and there, under theroof of my would-be murderer, I remained between life and death forseveral weeks. They had sent for a surgeon from Clipton and a nurse fromLondon, and in a month I was able to be carried to the station, and soconveyed back once more to Grosvenor Mansions.

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 was absent,the door of my chamber opened, and a tall woman in blackest mourningslipped into the room. She came across to me, and as she bent her sallowface I saw by the faint gleam of the night-light that it was theBrazilian woman whom my cousin had married. She stared intently into myface, and her expression was more kindly than I had ever seen it.

“Are you conscious?” she asked.

Tags: Arthur Conan Doyle Mystery
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