 Tales of Terror and Mystery by Arthur Conan Doyle It is hard luck on a young fellow to have expensive tastes, great expectations, aristocratic connections, but no actual money in his pocket, and no profession by which he may earn any. The fact was that my father, a good, sanguine, easygoing man, had such confidence in the wealth and benevolence of his bachelor elder brother, Lord Southerton, that he took it for granted that I, his only son, would never be called upon to earn a living for myself. He imagined that if there were not a vacancy for me on the great Southerton estates, at least there would be found some post in the diplomatic service which still remained the special preserve of our privileged classes. He died too early to realize how false his calculations had been. Neither my uncle nor the state took the slightest notice of me, or shed any interest in my career. An occasional brace of pheasants, or basket of hairs, was all that ever reached me, to remind me that I was heir to Otwell House, and one of the richest estates in the country. In the meantime I found myself a bachelor, a man about town, living in a suite of apartments in Gravenham-Anchons, with no occupation save that of pigeon-shooting and polo-playing at Hurlingham. Month by month I realized that it was more and more difficult to get the brokers to renew my bills, or to cash any further post-abits upon an unentailed property. Ruin lay right across my path, and every day I saw it clearer, nearer, and more absolutely unavoidable. What made me feel my own poverty the more was that, apart from the great wealth of Lord Southerton, all my other relations were fairly well to do. The nearest of these was Everard King, my father's nephew, 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. We never 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 in Suffolk. For the first year of his residence in England he took no more notice of me than my miserly uncle, but at last one summer morning, to my very great relief and joy, I received a letter asking me to 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 get on 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. I ordered my valet to pack my valise, and I set off the same evening for Clipton on the Marsh. After changing an Ipswich, a little local train deposited me at a small deserted station, lying amidst a railing grassy country, with a sluggish and winding river curving in and out amidst the valleys, between high, silted banks which showed that we were within reach of the tide. No carriage was awaiting me. I found afterwards that my telegram had been delayed, so I hired a dog-cut at the local inn. The driver, an excellent fellow, was full of my relative's praises, and I learned from him that Mr Everard King was already a named conjure with in that part of the county. He had entertained the school-children, he had thrown his grinds open to visitors, he had subscribed to charities. In short his benevolence had been so universal that my driver could only account for it on the supposition that he had parliamentary ambitions. My attention was drawn away from my driver's panagiric by the appearance of a very beautiful bird, which settled on a telegraph-post beside the road. At first I thought it was a jay, but it was larger, with a brighter plumage. The driver accounted for its presence at once by saying that it belonged to the very man whom we were about to visit. It seems that the acclimatisation of foreign creatures was one of his hobbies, and that he brought with him from Brazil a number of birds and beasts which he was endeavouring to rear in England. When once we had passed the gates of Greylands Park we had ample evidence of this taste of his. Some small-spotted deer, a curious wild pig known, I believe, as a peccary, a gorgeously feathered Oreo, some sort of armadillo, and a singular, lumbering, in-toed beast like a very fat badger, were among the creatures which I observed as we drove along the winding avenue. Mr. Everard King, my unknown cousin, was standing in person upon the steps of his house, for he had seen us in the distance and had guessed that it was I. His appearance was very homely, a benevolent, short and stout, forty-five years old, perhaps with a round, good human face, burned brine with the tropical sun and shot with a thousand wrinkles. He wore white linen clothes in true plantar style, with a cigar between his lips and a large Panama hat upon the back of his head. It was such a figure as one associates with a verandered bungalow, and it looked curiously out of place in front of this broad stone English mansion, with its solid wings and its palladium pillars before the doorway. My dear, he cried, glancing over his shoulder, my dear, here is our guest, welcome, welcome to Greylands, I am delighted to make your acquaintance, cousin Marshall, and I take it as a great compliment that you should honour this sleepy little country place with your presence. Nothing could be more hearty than his manner, and he set me at my ease in an instant. But it needed all his cordiality to atone for the frigidity and even rudeness of his wife, a tall, haggard woman who came forward at his summons. She was, I believe, of Brazilian extraction, though she spoke some excellent English, and I accused her manners on the score of her ignorance of our customs. She did not attempt to conceal, however, either then or afterwards, that I was no very welcome visitor at Greylands Court. Her actual words were, as a rule, courteous, but she was the possessor of a pair of particularly expressive dark eyes, and I read in them very clearly from the first that she heartily wished me back in London once more. However, my debts were too pressing, and my designs upon my wealthy relative were too vital for me to allow them to be upset by the ill temper of his wife, so I disregarded her coldness and reciprocated the extreme cordiality of his welcome. No pains had been spared by him to make me comfortable. My room was a charming one. He implored me to tell him anything which could add to my happiness. It was on the tip of my tongue to inform him that a black check would materially help towards that end, but I felt that it might be premature in the present state of our acquaintance. The dinner was excellent, and as we sat together afterwards over his vanners and coffee, which later he told me was specially prepared upon his own plantation, it seemed to me that all my driver's eulogies were justified, and that I had never met a more large-hearted and hospitable man. But, in spite of his cheery good nature, he was a man with a strong will and a fiery temper of his own. Of this I had an example upon the following morning. The curious aversion which Mrs. Everard King had conceived towards me was so strong that her manner at breakfast was almost offensive, but her meaning became unmistakable when her husband had quitted the room. "'The best train in the day is at a twelve-fifteen,' said she. "'But I wasn't thinking of going to-day,' I answered frankly, perhaps even defiantly, for I was determined not to be driven out by this woman. "'Oh! if it rests with you,' said she, and she stopped with the most insolent expression in her eyes. "'I'm sure,' I answered, that Mr. Everard King would tell me if I were out staying my welcome. "'What's this?' "'What's this?' said a voice, and there he was in the room. He had overheard my last words, and a glance at our faces had told him the rest, in an instant his chubby, cheery face set into an expression of absolute ferocity. "'Might I trouble you to walk outside, Marshal?' said he. I may mention that my own name is Marshal King. He closed the door behind me, and then for an instant I heard him talking in a low voice of concentrated passion to his wife. This gross breach of hospitality had evidently hit upon his tenderest point. I'm no eavesdropper, and so I walked out onto the lawn. Suddenly I heard a hurried step behind me, and there was the lady, her face pale with excitement, and her eyes red with tears. "'My husband has asked me to apologize to you, Mr. Marshal King,' said she, standing with downcast eyes before me. "'Please do not say another word, Mrs. King!' Her dark eyes suddenly blazed out at me. "'You fool!' she hissed, with frantic veerments, and turning on her heel swept back to the house. The insult was so outrageous, so insufferable, that I could only stand staring after her in bewilderment. I was still there when my host joined 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 me inexpressibly if you curtailed your visit by one hour. The fact is—' There is no reason why there should be any concealment between relatives—' "'My poor dear wife is incredibly jealous. She hates that any one, male or female, should for an instant come between us. Her ideal is a desert island, and an eternal tet-a-tet. That gives you the clue to her actions, which are, I confess, upon this particular point, not very far removed from mania. Tell me, you will think no more of it. No, no, certainly not. Then light this cigar, and come round with me, and see my little menagerie.' The whole afternoon was occupied by this inspection, which included all the birds, beasts, and even reptiles which he had imported. Some were free, some in cages, a few, actually, in the house. He spoke with enthusiasm of his successes and his failures, his births and his deaths, and he would cry out in his delight like a schoolboy when, as we walked, some gaudy bird would flutter up from the grass, or some curious beast slink into the cover. Finally he led me down a corridor which extended from one wing of the house. At the end of this there was a heavy door with a sliding shutter in it, and beside it there projected 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 duel of my collection, said he. There is only one other specimen in Europe now that the Rotterdam carb 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 draw that shutter and look through? I did so, and found that I was gazing into a large, empty room with stone flags and small barred windows upon the further wall, in the centre of the room, lying in the middle of a golden patch of sunlight, there was stretched a huge creature, as large as a tiger, but as black and sleek as ebony. It was simply a very enormous and very well kept black cat, and it cuddled up and basked in that yellow pool of light exactly as a cat would do. It was so graceful, so sinewy, and so gently and smoothly diabolical, that I could not take my eyes from the opening. Isn't his splendid, said my host enthusiastically. Glorious! I never saw such a noble creature. Some people call it a black puma, but rarely it is not a puma at all. That fellow is nearly eleven feet from tail to tip. Four years ago he was a little ball of black fluff, with two yellow eyes staring out of it. He was sold me as a newborn cub up in the wild country at the headwaters of the Rio Negro. They speared his mother to death after she'd 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 get the jumps. They prefer humans to game. This fellow has never tasted living blood yet, but when he does he'll be a terror. At present he won't stand any one but me in his den. Even Baldwin the groom dare not 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 and slipped in, closing it instantly behind him. At the sound of his voice the huge, lithe creature rose, yawned, and rubbed its round black head affectionately 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 itself up under a grating. Everard King came out, and, taking the iron handle, which I have mentioned, he began to turn it. As he did so, the line of bars in the corridor began to pass through a slot in the wall, and closed 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 me into the room, which was heavy with the pungent, musty smell peculiar to the great carnivore. That's how we work it, said he. We give him the run of the room for exercise, and then at night we put him in his cage. You can let him out by turning the handle from the passage, or you can, as you have seen, 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. But imagine that because I can take liberties with him any one else can. He is very exclusive in his friends, 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 had sprung to his feet, and was pacing up and down in the narrow cage, his yellow eyes gleaming, his scarlet tongue rippling and quivering over the white line of his jagged teeth. A groom entered with a course joined upon a tray, and thrust it through the bars to him. He pounced lightly upon it, and carried it off to the corner, and there, holding it between his paws, tore and wrenched at it, raising his bloody muzzle every now and then to look at us. It was a malignant, and yet fascinating sight. You can't wonder that I am fond of him. Can you, said my host, as we left the room, especially when you consider that I have had the rearing of him? He was no joke bringing him over from the centre of South America, but here he is safe and sound, and, as I have said, far the most perfect specimen in Europe. The people at the zoo are dying to have him, but I really can't part with him. Now, I think that I have inflicted my hobby upon you long enough, so we cannot do better than follow Tommy's example and go to our lunch. My South American relative was so engrossed by his grounds and their curious occupants that I hardly gave him credit at first for having any interests outside them. That he had some, and pressing ones, was soon borne in upon me by the number of telegrams which he received. They arrived at all hours, and were always opened by him, with the utmost eagerness and anxiety upon his face. Sometimes I imagined that it must be the turf, and sometimes the stock exchange, but certainly he had some very urgent business going forwards, which was not transacted upon the dines of Suffolk. During the six days of my visit he had never fewer than three or four telegrams a day, sometimes as many as seven or eight. I had occupied these six days so well, by the end of them I had succeeded in getting upon the most cordial terms with my cousin. Every night we had sat up late in the billiard-room, he telling me the most extraordinary stories of his adventures in America, stories so desperate and reckless that I could hardly associate them with the brown little chubby man before me. In return I ventured upon some of my own reminiscences of London life, which interested him so much that he vowed he had come up to graven mansions and say with me. He was anxious to see the faster side of city life, and certainly, though I said, he could not have chosen a more competent guide. It was not until the last day of my visit, that I ventured to approach that which was on my mind, I told him frankly about my pecuniary difficulties and my impending ruin, and I asked his advice, though I hoped for something more solid. He listened attentively, puffing hard at his cigar. "'But surely,' said he, "'you are the heir of our relative, Lord Southerton. I have every reason to believe so, but he would never make me any allowance. No, no, I have heard of his miserly ways. My poor marshal, your position has been a very hard one. By the way, have you heard any news of Lord Southerton's health recently?' "'He has always been in a critical condition, ever since my childhood.' "'Exactly. A creaking hinge, if ever there was one, your inheritance may be a long way off. Dear me, how awkwardly situated you are!' "'I had some hope, sir, that you, knowing all the facts, might be inclined to advance. Don't say another word, my dear boy,' he cried with the utmost cordiality, "'we shall talk it over to-night, and I give you my word that whatever is in my power shall be done.'" I was not sorry that my visit was drawn to a close, for it is unpleasant to feel that there is one person in the house who eagerly desires your departure. His king's sallow face and forbidding eyes had become more and more heatful to me. She was no longer actively rude, her fear of her husband prevented her, but she pushed her insane jealousy to the extent of ignoring me, never addressing me, and in every way making my stay at Greylands as uncomfortable as she could. So offensive was her manner during that last day that I should certainly have left had it not been for that interview with my host in the evening, which would, I hope, retrieve my broken fortunes. It was very late when it occurred, for my relative, who had been receiving even more telegrams than usual during the day, went after his study after dinner, and only emerged when the household had retired to bed. I heard him go round locking the doors, as custom was of a night, and finally he joined me in the billiard-room. His stout figure was wrapped in a dressing-garn, and he wore a pair of red Turkish slippers without any heels. Settling down into an arm-chair, he brewed himself a glass of grog, in which I could not help noticing that the whiskey 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 lattice-windows rattled and shook as if they were coming in. The glow of the yellow lamps and the flavour of our cigars seemed the brighter and more fragrant for the contrast. Now, my boy, said my host, we have the house and the night to ourselves. Let me have an idea of how your affairs stand, and I will see what can be done to set them in order. I wish to hear every detail. Thus encouraged I entered into a long exposition, in which all my tradesmen and creditors from my landlord to my valet figured in turn, I had notes in my pocket-book, and I marshaled my facts, and gave, I flatter myself, a very businesslike statement of my own un-businesslike ways and lamentable position. I was depressed, however, to notice that my companion's eyes were vacant, and his attention elsewhere. When he did occasionally throw out a remark, it was so entirely perfunctory and pointless that I was sure he had done him the least folly in my remarks. Every now and then he roused himself from put on some show of interest, asking me to repeat or explain more fully, but it was always to sink once more into the same brown study. At last he rose, through the end of his cigar into the grate. I'll tell you what, my boy, said he, I never had a head for figures, 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 it in 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'clock striking in the hall. The tingling of the chiming clock broke through the deep roar of the gale. 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 wind excites him. Will you come?" Certainly, said I. Then tread softly and don't speak, for everyone is asleep. We passed quietly down the lamplit Persian rocked hall and through the door at the farther end. All was dark in the stone corridor, but a stable 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 beast was in its cage. Come in, said my relative, and open the door. A deep growling as we entered showed that the storm had really excited the creature. In the flickering light of the lantern we saw it, a huge black mass coiled in the corner of its den, and throwing a squat uncouth shadow upon the whitewashed wall. Its tail twitched angrily among the straw. "'Poor Tommy is not in the best of tempers,' said Everard King, holding up 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 better humour. 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 an instant, won't you?' He passed out, and the door shut with a sharp metallic click behind him. That hard, crisp sound made my heart stand still. A sudden wave of terror passed over me, a vague perception of some monstrous treachery turned me cold. I sprang to the door, but there was no handle upon the inner side. "'Yeah,' I cried. "'Let me out!' "'All right, don't make a row,' said my host from the passage. "'You've got 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 alone long.' "'Let me out, sir,' I repeated angrily. "'I tell you, I don't allow practical jokes of this sort.' "'Practical is the word,' said he, with another hateful chuckle. And then suddenly I heard, amidst the roar of the storm, the creak and wine of the winch-handle turning, and the rattle of the grating as it passed through the slot. Great God! He was letting loose the Brazilian cat. In the light of the lantern I saw the bars sliding slowly before me. Already there was an opening a foot wide at the further end. The scream I seized the last bar with my hands and pulled with the strength of a madman. I was a madman with rage and horror. For a minute or more I held the thing motionless. I knew that he was straining with all his force upon the handle, and that the leverage was sure to overcome 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 me from this horrible death. I conjured him by his kinship. I reminded him that I was his guest. I begged to know what harm I had ever done him. His only answers were the tugs and jerks upon the handle, each of which, in spite of all my struggles, pulled another bar through the opening. Clinging and clutching I was dragged across the whole front of the cage until at last, with aching wrists and lacerated fingers, I gave up the hopeless struggle. The grating clanged back as I released it, and an instant later I heard the shuffle of the Turkish slippers in the passage and the slam of the distant door. Then everything was silent. The creature had never moved during this time. He lay still in the corner, and his tail had ceased switching. This apparition of a man adhering to his bars and dragged screaming across him had apparently filled 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 burned upon the floor, and I made a movement to grasp it, with some idea that its light might protect me. But the instant I moved, the beast gave a deep and menacing growl. I stopped and stood still, quivering with fear in every limb. The cat, if one may call so fearful a creature by so homely a name, was not more than ten feet from me. The eyes glimmered like two discs of phosphorus in the darkness. They appalled, and yet fascinated me. I could not take my own eyes from them. Nature plays strange tricks with us at such moments of intensity, and those glimmering lights waxed and waned with a steady rise and fall. Sometimes they seemed to be tiny points of extreme brilliancy, little electric sparks in the black of security. Then they would widen and widen until all that corner of the room was filled with their shifting and sinister light. And then suddenly they went out altogether. The beast had closed its eyes. I do not know whether there may be any truth in the old idea of the dominance of the human gaze, or whether the huge cat was simply drowsy, but the fact remains that, far from showing any symptom of attacking me, it simply rested its sleek black head upon its huge forepaws, and seemed to sleep. I stood, fearing to move, lest I should rouse it into malignant life once more. But at least I was able to think clearly now that the baleful eyes were off me. Where I was shut up for the night with the ferocious beast. My own instincts, to say nothing 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 stave it off until morning? The door was hopeless, and so were the narrow barred windows. There was no shelter anywhere in the bare stone flag room. To cry for assistance was absurd. I knew that this den was an outhouse, and that the corridor which connected it with the house was at least a hundred feet long. Besides, with the gale thundering outside, my cries were not likely to be 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 burned low, and was already beginning to gutter. In ten minutes it would be out. I had only ten minutes then, in which to do something. And I felt that if I were once left in the dark with that fearful beast I shall be incapable of action. The very thought of it paralysed me. I cast my despairing eyes round this chamber of death, and they 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 was left standing when the front was wound through the slot in the wall. It consisted of bars at a few inches interval with stout wire netting between, and it rested upon a strong stanchion at each end. It stood now as a great barred canopy over the crouching figure in the corner. The space between this iron shelf and the roof may have been from two or three feet. If I could only get up there, squeezed in between bars and hang, I should have only one vulnerable side. I should be safe from below, from behind, and from each side, only on the open face of it could 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 pace about his den. He should have to come out of his way to reach me. It was now or never, for if once the light were out it would be impossible. At the gulp in my throat I sprang up, seized the iron edge of the top, and swung myself panting onto it. I rised in, faced downwards, and found myself looking straight up into the terrible eyes and yawning jaws of the cat. Its fetid breath came up into my face like the steam from some foul pot. It appeared, however, to be rather curious than angry. With a sleek ripple of its long black back it rose, etched itself, and then, rearing itself on its hind legs with one forepour against the wall, it raised 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 I was still in evening-dress, and dug a furrow in my knee. It was not meant as an attack, but rather as an experiment, for upon my giving a sharp cry 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 my direction. For my part I shuffled backwards, until I lay with my back against the wall, screwing myself into the smallest space possible. The further 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 ran swiftly and noiselessly round and round the den, passing continually underneath the iron couch upon which I lay. It was wonderful to see so great a bulk passing like a shadow, with hardly the softest thudding of velvety pads. The candle was burning low, so low that I could hardly see the creature, and then, with the last flare and splutter, it went out altogether. I was alone with the cat in the dark. It helps one to face a danger when one knows that one has done all that can possibly be done. There is nothing for it then, but to quietly await the result. In this case there was no chance of safety anywhere except the precise spot where I was. I stretched myself out, therefore, and lay silently, almost breathlessly, hoping that the beast might forget my presence if I did nothing to remind him. I reckoned that it must already be two o'clock. At four it would be full dawn. I had not more than two hours to wait for daylight. Outside the storm was still raging, and the rain lashed continually against the little windows. Inside the poisonous and fetid air was overpowering. I could neither hear nor see the cat. I tried to think about other things, but only one had power enough to draw my mind from my terrible position. That was the contemplation of my cousin's villainy, his unparalleled hypocrisy, his malignant hatred of me. Beneath that cheerful face there lurked the spirit of a medieval assassin. And as I thought of it, I saw more clearly how cunningly the thing had been arranged. He had, apparently, gone to bed with the others. No doubt he had his witness to prove it. Then, unknown to them, 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 the billiard-room. I had gone down on my own account to have a last look at the cat. I had entered the room without observing that the cage was opened, and I had been 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, 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 presence had been forgotten or ignored. At last the least faint glimmer of light came through the windows. I first dimly saw them as two gray squares upon the black wall, then gray turned to white, and I could see my 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 and aggressive mood than when I had seen him last. The cold of the morning had irritated him, and he was hungry as well. With a continual growl, he paced swiftly up and down the side of the room which was farthest from my refuge, his whiskers bristling angrily, and his tail switching and lashing. As he turned at the corners, his savage eyes always looked upward at me with a dreadful menace. I knew then that he meant to kill me. Yet I found myself even at that moment admiring the sinuous grace of the devilish thing, its long undulating rippling movements, the gloss of its beautiful flanks, the vivid, palpitating scarlet of the glistening tongue which hung from the jet-black muzzle, and all the time that deep threatening growl was rising and rising in an unbroken 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-dressed clothes upon this gridiron of torment upon which I was stretched. I tried to brace myself to it, to raise my soul above it, and at the same time with the lucidity that comes to a perfectly 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 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 of bringing the creature upon me. Slowly, very slowly, I put my hand forward until it grasped the edge of the front, the final bar which protruded through the wall. To my surprise it came quite easily to my jerk. Of course the difficulty of drawing it out arose from the fact that I was clinging to it. I pulled again, and three inches of it came through. It ran, apparently, on wheels. I pulled again, and then the cat sprang. It was so quick, so sudden, that I never saw it happen. I simply heard the savage snarl, and in an instant afterwards the blazing yellow eyes, the flattened black head, with its red tongue and flashing teeth, were within reach of me. The impact of the creature shook the bars upon which I lay, and I thought, as far as I could think of anything, at such a moment 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 find a grip upon the edge of the grating. I heard the claws rasping as they clung to the wire netting, and the breath of the beast made me sick. But its bound had been miscalculated. It could not retain its position. Slowly, grinning with rage and scratching madly at the bars, it swung backwards and dropped heavily upon the floor. With a growl, it instantly faced round to me, and crouched for another spring. I knew that the next few moments would decide my fate. The creature had learned my experience. It would not miscalculate again. I must act promptly, fearlessly, if I would have a chance for life. In an instant I had formed my plan. Pulling off my dress-coat, I threw it down over the 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 of the wall. It came more easily than I could have expected. I rushed across the room, bearing it with me, but, as I rushed, the accident of my position put me upon the outer side. Had it been the other way, I might have come off scathe-less. As it was, there was a moment's pause as I stopped it, and tried to pass in through the opening which I had left. That moment was enough to give time to the creature to toss off the coat with which I had blinded him, and to spring upon me. I hurled myself through the gap, and pulled the rails too behind me, but he seized my leg before I could entirely withdraw it. One stroke of that huge pour tore off my calf as a shaving of wood curls off before a plane. The next morning, bleeding and fainting, I was lying among the foul straw with a line of friendly bars between me and the creature which ramped so frantically against them. Too wounded to move, and too faint to be conscious of fear, I would only 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 as I have seen a kitten do before a mousetrap. It ripped my clothes, but, stretch as it would, it could not quite reach me. I have heard of the curious numbing effect produced by wounds from the great carnivora, and now I was destined to experience it. Before I had lost all sense of personality, and was as interested in the cat's failure or success as if it were some game which I was watching, and then gradually my mind drifted away into strange, vague dreams, always with that black face and red tongue coming back into them, and so I lost myself in the nirvana of delirium, the blessed relief of those who are too sorely tried. In the course of events afterwards I conclude I must have been insensible for about two hours. What rised me to consciousness once more was the sharp metallic click which had been the precursor of my terrible experience. It was the shooting back of the spring-lock. Then before my senses were clear enough to entirely apprehend what they saw, I was aware of the round, benevolent face of my cousin peering in through the open door. What he saw evidently amazed him. There was the cat crouching on the floor. I was stretched upon my back in my shirt sleeves within the cage, my trousers torn to ribbons, and a great pool of blood all round me. I can see his amazed face now with the morning sunlight upon it. He peered at me and peered again. Then he closed the door behind him and advanced to the cage to see if I were really dead. I cannot undertake to say what happened. I was not in a fit state to witness or to chronicle such events. I can only say that I was suddenly conscious that his face was away from me, that he was looking towards 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 wrought. "'Down, sir. Don't you know your master?' Even in my bemuddled brain a remembrance came of those words of his when he'd said that the taste of blood would turn the cat into a 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 like the ripping of sacking. His screams grew fainter until they were lost in the worrying snarl. And then, after I thought he was dead, I saw, as in a nightmare, a blinded, tattered, blood-soaked figure running wildly round the room. And that was the last glimpse which I had of him before I fainted once again. I was many months in my recovery. In fact, I cannot say that I have ever recovered, for to the end of my days I shall carry a stick as a sign of my night with the Brazilian cat. Baldwin grew when the other servants could not tell what had occurred when, drawn by the death-cries of their master, they found me behind the bars and his remains, or what they afterwards discovered to be his remains, in the clutch of the creature which he had reared. They stalled him off with hot irons and afterwards shot him through the loophole of the door before they could finally extricate me. I was carried to my bedroom and there, under the roof of my would-be murderer, I remained between life and death for several weeks. They had sent for a surgeon from Clipton and a nurse from London, and in a month I was able to be carried to the station and so conveyed back once more to grove the mansions. I have one remembrance of that illness which might have been part of the ever-changing panorama conjured up by a delirious brain where it not so definitely fixed in my memory. One night, when the nurse was absent, the door of my chamber opened and a tall woman in blackest mourning slipped into my room. She came across to me, and as she bent her cello-face I saw, by the faint gleam of the night-light, that it was the Brazilian woman whom my cousin had married. She stared intently into my face, and her expression was more kindly than I had ever seen it. Are you conscious? she asked. I feebly nodded, for I was still very weak. Well, then, I only wish to say to you that you have yourself to blame. Did I not do all I could for you? From the beginning I tried to drive you from the house. By every means, short of betraying my husband, I tried to save you from him. I knew he had a reason for bringing 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. I did not dare to tell you all this, he would have killed me. But I did my best for you. As things have turned out, you have been the best friend that I have ever had. You have set me free, and I fancied that nothing but death would do that. I am sorry if you are hurt, but I cannot reproach myself. I told you you were a fool, and a fool you have been. I crept out of the room, a bitter, singular woman, and I was never destined to see her again. With what remained of her husband's property she went back to her native land, and I have heard that she afterwards took the veil at Pernambuco. It was not until I had been back in London for some time that the doctors pronounced me well enough to do business. It was not a very welcome permission for me, for I feared that it would be the signal for an in-rush of creditors, but it was Summers, my lawyer, who first took 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 for the last six weeks, but we feared that it would retard your recovery if you were to learn it. Lord Southerton! One of the richest peers in England, I couldn't believe my ears, and then suddenly I thought of the time which had elapsed, and how it coincided with my injuries. Then Lord Southerton must have died about the same time that I was hurt. His death occurred upon that very day. Summers looked hard at me as I spoke, and I am convinced, for he was a very shrewd fellow, that he had guessed the true state of the case. He paused for a moment as if awaiting a confidence from me, but I could not see what was to be gained by exposing such a family scandal. Yes, a very curious coincidence, he continued with the same knowing look. Of course you are aware that your cousin, Everard King, was the next heir to the estates. Now if it had been you instead of him who had been torn to pieces by this tiger, or whatever it was, then of course 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 happened to know that the late Lord Southerton's valet was in his pay, and that he used to have telegrams from him every few hours to tell him how he was getting 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, as he knew that he was not the direct heir? Very strange, said I. And now, Summers, if you will bring me my bills, and a new check-book, we will begin to get things into order. Blood of the Brazilian Cat by Arthur Conan Doyle. The confession of Herbert de Lerneck, now lying under sentence of death at Marseille, has thrown a light upon one of the most inexplicable crimes of the century, an incident which is, I believe, absolutely unprecedented in the criminal annals of any country. Although there is a reluctance to discuss the matter in official circles, and little information has been given to the press, there are still indications that the statement of this arch-criminal is corroborated by the facts, and that we have at last found a solution for a most astounding business. As the matter is eight years old, and as its importance was somewhat obscured by a political crisis which was engaging the public attention at the time, it may be as well to state the facts as far as we have been able to ascertain them. They are collated from the Liverpool Papers of that date, from the proceedings at the inquest upon John Slater, the engine driver, and from the records of the London and West Coast Railway Company, which have been courteously put at my disposal. Briefly they are as follows. On the third of June, 1890, a gentleman who gave his name as Monsieur Louis Carotel desired an interview with Mr. James Blan, the superintendent of the London and West Coast Central Station in Liverpool. He was a small man, middle-aged and dark, with a stoop, which was so marked that it was suggested some deformity of the spine. He was accompanied by a friend, a man of imposing physique, whose differential manner and constant attention showed that his position was one of dependence. This friend or companion, whose name did not transpire, was certainly a foreigner, and probably from his swarthy complexion, either Spaniard or South American. One peculiarity was observed in him. He carried in his left hand a small black leather dispatch box, and it was noticed by a sharp-eyed clerk in the central office that this box was fastened to his wrist by a strap. No importance was attached to the fact at the time, but subsequent events endowed it with some significance. Monsieur Carotel was shown up to Mr. Blan's office while his companion remained outside. Monsieur Carotel's business was quickly dispatched. He had arrived that afternoon from Central America. Affairs of the utmost importance demanded that he should be in Paris without the loss of an unnecessary hour. He had missed the London Express. A special must be provided. Money was of no importance. Time was everything. If the company would speed him on his way, they might make their own terms. Mr. Blan struck the electric bell, summoned Mr. Potter Hood, the traffic manager, and had the matter arranged in five minutes. The train would start in three-quarters of an hour. It would take that time to ensure that the lines should be clear. The powerful engine, called Roushdale, number 247 on the company's register, was attached to two carriages with a guards van behind. The first carriage was solely for the purpose of decreasing the inconvenience arising from the oscillation. The second was divided, as usual, into four compartments, a first class, a first class smoking, a second class, and a second class smoking. The first compartment, which was nearest to the engine, was the one allotted to the travelers. The other three were empty. The guard of the special train was James McPherson, who had been some years in the service of the company. The stoker, William Smith, was a new hand. When Stuart Kettertell, upon leaving the superintendent's office, rejoined his companion in both of the manifested extreme impatience to be off. Having paid the money asked, which amounted to 50 pounds five shillings at the usual special rate of five shillings a mile, they demanded to be shown the carriage, and at once took their seats in it, although they were assured that the better part of an hour must elapse before the line could be cleared. In the meantime, a singular coincidence had occurred in the office, which Monsuk Kettertell had just quitted. A request for a special is not a very uncommon circumstance in a rich commercial center, but that too should be required upon the same afternoon was most unusual. It so happened, however, that Mr. Bland had hardly dismissed the first traveler before a second entered with a similar request. This was a Mr. Horace Moore, a gentlemanly man of military appearance, who alleged that the sudden serious illness of his wife in London made it absolutely imperative that he should not lose an instant in starting upon the journey. His distress and anxiety were so evident that Mr. Bland did all that was possible to meet his wishes. A second special was out of the question, as the ordinary local service was already somewhat deranged by the first. There was the alternative, however, that Mr. Moore should share the expense of Monsuk Kettertell's train and should travel in the other empty first-class compartment, if Monsuk Kettertell objected to having him in the one which he occupied. It was difficult to see any objection to such an arrangement, and yet Monsuk Kettertell, upon the suggestion being made to him by Mr. Potter Hood, absolutely refused to consider it for an instant. The train was his, he said, and he would insist upon the exclusive use of it. All argument failed to overcome his ungracious objections, and finally the plan had to be abandoned. Mr. Horace Moore left the station in great distress after learning that his only course was to take the ordinary slow train which leaves Liverpool at six o'clock. At four-thirty-one exactly by the station clock the special train containing the crippled Monsuk Kettertell and his gigantic companion steamed out of the Liverpool station. The line was at that time clear, and there should have been no stoppage before Manchester. The trains of the London and West Coast Railway run over the lines of another company as far as this town, which should have been reached by the special rather before six o'clock. At a quarter after six considerable surprise and some consternation were caused amongst the officials at Liverpool by the receipt of a telegram from Manchester to say that it had not yet arrived. An inquiry directed to St. Helens, which is a third of the way between the two cities, elicited the following reply. To James Bland, Superintendent, Central L&WC Liverpool, special passed here at four-fifty-two, well up to time, Dowsinger St. Helens. The telegram was received at six-forty. At six-fifty a second message was received from Manchester. No sign of special is advised by you. And then ten minutes later a third, more bewildering. Presume some mistake as to proposed running of special. Local train from St. Helens time to follow it has just arrived and has seen nothing of it. Kindly wire advices, Manchester. The matter was assuming a most amazing aspect, although in some respects the last telegram was relieved to the authorities at Liverpool. If an accident had occurred to the special, it seemed hardly possible that the local train could have passed down the same line without observing it. And yet what was the alternative? Where could the train be? Had it possibly been sidetracked for some reason in order to allow the slower train to get passed? Such an explanation was possible if some small repair had to be affected. A telegram was dispatched to each of the stations between St. Helens and Manchester, and the superintendent and traffic manager waited in the utmost suspense at the instrument for their series of replies, which would enable them to say for certain what had become of the missing train. The answers came back in the order of questions, which was the order of the stations beginning at the St. Helens Inn. Special pass tier five o'clock, Collins Green. Special pass tier six past five, Earlstown. Special pass tier five, 10 Newton. Special pass tier five, 20, Kenyon Junction. No special train has passed here, Barton Moss. The two officials stared at each other in amazement. This is unique in my 30 years of experience at Mr. Bland. Absolutely unprecedented and inexplicable, sir. The special has gone wrong between Kenyon Junction and Barton Moss. And yet there is no siding so far as my memory serves me between the two stations. The special must have run off the metals. But how could the 430 Parliamentary pass over the same line without observing it? There's no alternative, Mr. Hood. It must be so. Possibly the local train may have observed something which may serve some light upon the matter. We will wire to Manchester for more information and to Kenyon Junction with instructions that the line be examined instantly as far as Barton Moss. The answer for Manchester came within a few minutes. No news of missing special. Driver and guard of slow train positive no accident between Kenyon Junction and Barton Moss. Lime quite clear and no sign of anything unusual. Manchester. That driver and guard will have to go, said Mr. Bland grimly. There's been a wreck and they have missed it. The special has obviously run off the metals without disturbing the line. How could it have done so past is my comprehension, but so it must be, and we shall have a wire from Kenyon or Barton Moss presently to say that they have found her at the bottom of an embankment. But Mr. Bland's prophecy was not destined to be fulfilled. Half an hour passed and then there arrived the following message from the station master of Kenyon Junction. There are no traces of the missing special. It is quite certain that she passed here and that she did not arrive at Barton Moss. We have detached engine from Good's train and I have myself written down the line, but all is clear and there's no sign of any accident. Mr. Bland tore his hair in his perplexity. This is rank lunacy, hood, he cried. Does the train vanish into thin air in England in broad daylight? The thing is preposterous. An engine, a tender two carriages, a van, five human beings, and all lost on a straight line of railway? Unless we get something positive within the next hour, I'll take Inspector Collins and go down myself. And then at last something positive did occur. It took the shape of another telegram from Kenyon Junction. Regrets to report that the dead body of John Slater, the driver of the special train, has just been found among the Gorse bushes at a point two and a quarter miles from the junction. Had fallen from his engine, pitched down the embankment and rolled among the bushes. Injuries to his head from the fall appeared to be cause of death. Ground has now been carefully examined and there is no trace of the missing train. The country was, as has already been stated, in the throes of political crisis, and the attention of the public was further distracted by the important and sensational developments in Paris, where a huge scandal threatened to destroy the government and to wreck the reputations of many of the leading men in France. The papers were full of these events and the singular disappearance of the special train attracted less attention than would have been the case in more peaceful times. The grotesque nature of the event helped to detract from its importance, for the papers were disinclined to believe the facts as reported to them. More than one of the London journals treated the matter as an ingenious hoax until the coroner's inquest upon the unfortunate driver, an inquest which elicited nothing of importance, convinced them of the tragedy of the incident. Mr. Bland, accompanied by Inspector Collins, the senior detective officer in the service of the company, went down to Kenyon Junction the same evening and their research lasted throughout the following day but was attended with purely negative results. Not only was no trace found of the missing train, but no conjecture could be put forward which could possibly explain the facts. At the same time Inspector Collins's official report, which lies before me as I write, served to show that the possibilities were more numerous than might have been expected. In the search of railway between these two points, said he, the country started with ironworks and collaries. Of these some are being worked and some have been abandoned. There are no fewer than 12 which have small gauge lines which run trolley cars down to the main line. These can, of course, be disregarded. Besides these, however, there are seven which have or have had proper lines running down and connecting with points to the main line so as to convey their produce from the mouth of the mind to the great centers of distribution. In every case these lines are only a few miles in length. Out of the seven, four belong to collaries which are worked out or at least to shafts which are no longer used. These are the red gauntlet, hero, slaw of despond and a heart sees minds. The latter having 10 years ago been one of the principal minds in Lancashire. These four sidelines may be eliminated from our inquiry for to prevent possible accidents. The rails nearest to the main line have been taken up and there is no longer any connection. There remain three other sidelines leading, A to the corn stock ironworks, B to the big bin collary, and C to the perseverance collary. Of these, the big bin line is not more than a quarter of a mile long and ends at a dead wall of coal waiting removal from the mouth of the mine. Nothing had been seen or heard there of any special. The corn stock ironworks line was blocked all day upon the 3rd of June by 16 truckloads of hematite. It is a single line and nothing could have passed. As to the perseverance line, it is a large double line which does a considerable traffic for the output of the mine is very large. On the 3rd of June this traffic proceeded as usual. Hundreds of men including a gang of railway plate layers were working along the two miles and a quarter which constitute the total length of the line and it is inconceivable that an unexpected train could have come down there without attracting universal attention. It may be remarked in conclusion that this branch line is near to St. Helens then the point at which the engine driver was discovered so that we have every reason to believe that the train was past that point before misfortune overtook her. As to John Slater, there is no clue to be gathered from his appearance or injuries. We can only say that so far as we see. He met his end by falling off his engine though why he fell or what became of the engine after his fall is a question upon which I do not feel qualified to offer an opinion. In conclusion the inspector offered his resignation to the board being much netled by an accusation of incompetence in the London papers. A month elapsed during which both the police and the company prosecuted their inquiries without the slightest success. A reward was offered in a pardon promised in case of crime but they were both unclaimed. Every day the public opened their papers with the conviction that so grotesque mystery would at last be solved but week after week passed by and a solution remained as far off as ever. In broad daylight upon June afternoon in the most thickly inhabited portion of England a train with its occupants had disappeared as completely as if some master of subtle chemistry had volatilized it into gas. Indeed among the various conjectures which were put forward in the public press there were some which seriously asserted that supernatural or at least pertinential agencies had been at work and that the deformed monster carotel was probably a person who was better known under a less polite name. Others fixed upon his swarthy companion as being the author of the mischief but what it was exactly which he had done could never be clearly formulated in words. Amongst the many suggestions put forward by various newspapers or private individuals there were one or two which were feasible enough to attract the attention of the public. One which appeared in the times over the signature of an amateur reasoner of some celebrity at that date attempted to deal with the matter in a critical and semi-scientific manner. An extract must suffice although the curious can see the whole letter in the issue of the third of July. It is one of the elementary principles of practical reasoning he remarked that when the impossible has been eliminated the residuum however improbable must contain the truth. It is certain that the train left Kenyon Junction. It is certain that it did not reach Barton Moss. It is in the highest degree unlikely but still possible that it may have taken one of the seven available sidelines. It is obviously impossible for a train to run where there are no rails and therefore we may reduce our improbables to the three open lines, namely the corn stock ironworks, the big bin and the perseverance. Is there a secret society of colliers in English Komora which is capable of destroying both train and passengers? It is improbable but it is not impossible. I confess that I am unable to suggest any other solution. I should certainly advise the company to direct all their energies towards the observation of those three lines and of the workmen at the end of them. The careful supervision of the Pronberger shops of the district might possibly bring some suggestive facts to life. The suggestion coming from a recognized authority upon such matters created considerable interest and a fierce opposition from those who considered such a statement to be a preposterous libel upon an honest and deserving set of men. The only answer to this criticism was a challenge to the objectors to lay any more feasible explanations before the public. In reply to this two others were forthcoming, times July 7th and 9th. The first suggested that the train might have run off the metals and be lying submerged in a Lancashire and Staffordshire canal which runs parallel to the railway for some hundred of yards. The suggestion was turned out of court by the published depth of the canal which was entirely insufficient to conceal so large an object. The second correspondent wrote calling attention to the bag which appeared to be the sole luggage which the travelers had brought with them and suggesting that some novel explosive of a momentum pulverizing power might have been concealed in it. The obvious absurdity however supposing that the whole train might be blown to dust while the metals remained uninjured reduced any such explanation to a farce. The investigation had drifted into this hopeless position when a new and most unexpected incident occurred. This was nothing less than the receipt by Mrs. McPherson of a letter from her husband James McPherson who had been the guard on the missing train. The letter which was dated July 5th 1890 was posted from New York and came to hand upon July 14th. Some doubts were expressed as to its genuine character but Mrs. McPherson was positive as to the writing and the fact that it contained a remittance of a hundred dollars in five dollar notes was enough in itself to discount the idea of a hoax. No address was given in the letter which ran in this way. My dear wife, I have been thinking a great deal and I find it very hard to give you up, the same with Lizzie. I try to fight against it but it will always come back to me. I send you some money which will change into 20 English pounds. This should be enough to bring both Lizzie and you across the Atlantic and you will find the Hamburg boats which stop at Southampton very good boats and cheaper than Liverpool. If you could come here and stop at the Johnston House I would try and send you word how to meet but things are very difficult with me at present and I am not very happy finding it hard to give you both up. So no more at present from your loving husband James McPherson. For a time it was confidently anticipated that this letter would lead to the clearing up of the whole matter. The more so as it was ascertained that a passenger who bore a close resemblance to the missing guard had traveled from Southampton under the name of Summers in the Hamburg and New York liner Vistula which started upon the 7th of June. Mrs. McPherson and her sister Lizzie Doulton went across to New York as directed and stayed for three weeks at the Johnston House without hearing anything from the missing man. It is probable that some in judicious comments in the press may have warned him that the police were using them as bait. However this may be it is certain that he neither wrote nor came and the women were eventually compelled to return to Liverpool. And so the matter stood and has continued to stand up to the present year of 1898. Incredible as it may seem nothing has transpired during these eight years which has shed the least light upon the extraordinary disappearance of the special train which contained Montsue Carrotel and his companion. Careful inquiries into the antecedents of the two travellers have only established the fact that Montsue Carrotel was well known as a financier and political agent in Central America and that during his voyage to Europe he had betrayed extraordinary anxiety to reach Paris. His companion whose name was entered upon the passenger list is Eduardo Gomez was a man whose record was a violent one and his reputation was that of a bravo and a bully. There was evidence to show however that he was honestly devoted to the interests of Montsue Carrotel and that the latter being a man of puny physique employed the other as a guard and protector. It may be added that no information came from Paris as to what the objects of Montsue Carrotel's hurried journey may have been. This comprises all the facts of the case up to the publication in the Marseille paper of the recent confession of Herbert Delannac now under sentence of death for the murder of a merchant named Bonvalat. This statement may be literally translated as follows. It is not out of mere pride or boasting that I give this information for if that were my object I could tell a dozen actions of mine which are quite a splendid but I do it in order that certain gentlemen in Paris may understand that I who am able here to tell about the fate of Montsue Carrotel can also tell on whose interests and whose request the deed was done unless the reprieve which I am awaiting comes to me very quickly. Take warning, Mrs. Sears, before it is too late. You know Herbert Delannac and you are aware that his deeds are as ready as his words hasten then or you are lost. At present I shall mention no names if you only heard the names what would you not think but I shall merely tell you how cleverly I did it. I was true to my employers then and no doubt they will be true to me now. I hope so and until I am convinced that they have betrayed me these names which would convulse Europe shall not be divulged but on that day, well I say no more. In a word then there was a famous trial in Paris in the year 1890 in connection with the monstrous scandal in politics and finance. How monstrous that scandal was can never be known saved by such confidential agents as myself. The honour and careers of many of the chief men in France were at stake. You have seen a group of nine pins standing also rigid and prim and unbending. Then there comes the ball from far away and pop, pop, pop, there are your nine pins on the floor. Well imagine some of the greatest men in France as the nine pins and then this Montsue Carrotel was the ball which could be seen coming from far away. If he arrived then it was pop, pop, pop for all of them. It was determined that he should not arrive. I do not accuse them all of being conscious of what was to happen. There were as I have said great financial as well as political interest at stake and a syndicate was formed to manage the business. Some subscribed to the syndicate who hardly understood what were its objects but others understood very well and they can rely upon it that I have not forgotten their names. They had ample warning that Montsue Carrotel was coming long before he left South America and they knew that the evidence which he held would certainly mean ruin to all of them. The syndicate had the command of an unlimited amount of money, absolutely unlimited you understand. They looked around for an agent who was capable of wielding this gigantic power. The man chose it must be inventive, resolute, adaptive, a man in a million. They chose Herbert de la Neck and I admit that they were right. My duties were to choose my subordinates to use freely the power which money gives and to make certain that Montsue Carrotel should never arrive in Paris. With characteristic energy I set about my commission within an hour of receiving my instructions and the steps which I took were the very best for the purpose which could possibly be devised. A man whom I could trust was dispatched instantly to South America to travel home with Montsue Carrotel. Had he arrived in time the ship would never have reached Liverpool but alas it had already started before my agent could reach it. I fitted out a small armed brig to intercept it but again I was unfortunate. Like all great organizers I was however prepared for failure and had a series of alternatives prepared one or the other of which must succeed. You must not underrate the difficulties of my undertaking or imagine that a mere commonplace assassination would meet the case. I accept the criminal folly of McPherson and writing home to his wife. Our Stoker did his business so clumsily that Slater and his struggles fell off the engine and though fortune was with us so far that he broke his neck in the fall still he remained as a blot upon that which would otherwise have been one of those complete masterpieces which are only to be contemplated in silent admiration. The criminal expert will find in John Slater the one flaw in all our admirable combinations. A man who has had as many triumphs as I can afford to be frank and I therefore lay my finger upon John Slater and I proclaim him to be a flaw. But now I have got our special train upon the small line two kilometers or rather more than one mile in length which leads or rather used to lead to the abandoned Hertzsease mine once one of the largest coal mines in England. You will ask how it is that no one saw the train upon this unused line. I answer that along its entire length it runs through a deep cutting and that unless someone had been on the edge of that cutting he could not have seen it. There was someone on the edge of that cutting. I was there and now I will tell you what I saw. My assistant had remained at the points in order that he might super intend the switching off of the train. He had four armed men with him so that if the train ran off the line we thought it probable because the points were very rusty we might still have resources to fall back upon. Having once seen it safely on the sideline he handed over the responsibility to me. I was waiting at a point which overlooks the mouth of the mine and I was also armed as were my two companions. Come what might you see, I was always ready. The moment that the train was fairly on the sideline Smith the stoker slowed down the engine and then having turned it onto the fullest speed again he and McPherson with my English lieutenants sprang off before it was too late. It may be that it was the slowing down which first attracted the attention of the travelers but the train was running at full speed again before their heads appeared at the open window. It makes me smile to think how bewildered they must have been. Picture to yourself your own feelings if on looking out of your luxurious carriage you suddenly perceive that the lines upon which you ran were rusted and corroded red and yellow with disuse and decay. What a catch must have come in their breath as in a second it flashed upon them that it was not Manchester but death which was waiting for them at the end of that sinister line. But the train was running with frantic speed rolling and rocking over the rotten line while the wheels made a frightful screaming sound upon the rusted surface. I was close to them and could see their faces. Catatel was praying I think there was something like a rosary dangling out of his hand. The other roared like a bull who smells the blood of the slaughterhouse. He saw us standing on the bank and he beckoned to us like a madman. There he tore at his wrist and threw his dispatch box out of the window in our direction. Of course this meaning was obvious. Here was the evidence and they would promise to be silent if their lives were spared. It would have been very agreeable if we could have done so but business is business. Besides the train was now as much beyond our controls as theirs. He ceased howling when the train rattled around the curve and they saw the black mouth of the mine yawning before them. We had removed the boards which had covered it and we had cleared the square entrance. The rails had formally run very close to the shaft for the convenience of loading the coal and we had only to add two or three links of rail in order to lead to the very brink of the shaft. In fact as the links would not quite fit our line projected about three feet over the edge. We saw the two heads at the window. Catatel below, Gomez above. But they had both been struck silent by what they saw and yet they could not withdraw their heads. The sight seemed to have paralyzed them. I had wondered how the train running at a great speed would take the pitch into which I had guided it and I was much interested in watching it. One of my colleagues thought that it would actually jump it and indeed it was not very far from doing so. Fortunately however it fell short and the buffers of the engine struck the other lip of the shaft with a tremendous crash. The funnel flew off into the air. The tender carriages and van were all smashed up into one jumble which with the remains of the engine choked for a minute or so the mouth of the pit. Then something gave way in the middle and the whole mass of green iron, smoking coals, brass fittings, wheels, woodworking cushions all crumbled together and crashed down into the mine. We heard the rattle, rattle, rattle as the debris struck against the walls and then quite a long time afterward there came a deep war as the remains of the train struck the bottom. The boiler may have burst for a sharp crash came after the war and then a dense cloud of steam and smoke swirled up out of the black depths falling in a spray as thick as rain all around us. Then the vapour shredded off into thin wisps which floated away in the summer sunshine and all was quiet again in the heart-ceased mine. And now having carried out our plans so successfully it only remained to leave no trace behind us. Our little band of workers at the other end had already ripped up the rails and disconnected the sideline replacing everything as it had been before. We were equally busy at the time. The funnel and other fragments were thrown in. The shaft was planked over as it used to be and the lines which led to it were torn up and taken away. Then without flurry but without delay we all made our way out to the country, most of us to Paris, my English colleague to Manchester and McPherson to Southampton when she immigrated to America. Let the English papers of that date tell you how thoroughly we had done our work and how completely we'd thrown the cleverest of their detectives off our track. You will remember that Gomez threw his bag of papers out of the window and I need not say that I secured that bag and brought them to my employers. It may interest my employers now however to learn that out of that bag I took one or two little papers as a souvenir of the occasion. I have no wish to publish these papers but still it is every man for himself in this world and what else can I do if my friends will not come to my aid when I want them? Mrs. you may believe that Herbert Delannac is quite as formidable when he is against you as when he is with you and that he is not a man to go to the guillotine until he has seen that every one of you is en route for New Caledonia. For your own sake, if not for mine, make haste Montsourde and General and Baron. You can fill up the blanks for yourselves as you read this. I promise you that in the next edition there will be no blanks to fill. P.S. as I look over my statement there is only one omission which I can see. It concerns the unfortunate man MacPherson who was foolish enough to write to his wife and to make an appointment with her in New York. It can be imagined that when interests like ours were at stake we could not leave them to the chance of whether a man in that class of life would or would not give away his secrets to a woman. Having once broken his oath by writing to his wife we could trust him no more. We took steps therefore to ensure that he should not see his wife. I've sometimes thought it would be a kindness to write to her and to assure her that there is no impediment to her marrying again. End of The Lost Special by Arthur Conan Doyle. Tales of Terror and Mystery, The Beetle Hunter. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Corey Samuel. Tales of Terror and Mystery by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The Beetle Hunter. A curious experience, said the doctor. Yes my friends, I have had one very curious experience. I never expect to have another for it is against all doctrines of chances that two such events would befall any one man in a single lifetime. You may believe me or not, but the thing happened exactly as I tell it. I had just become a medical man, but I had not started in practice and I lived in rooms in Gower Street. The street has been renumbered since then, but it was in the only house which has a bow window upon the left hand side as you go down from the Metropolitan Station. A widow named Murchison kept the house at that time and she had three medical students and one engineer as lodgers. I occupied the top room which was the cheapest, but cheapest it was it was more than I could afford. My small resources were dwindling away and every week it became more necessary that I should find something to do. Yet I was very unwilling to go into general practice for my tastes were all in the direction of science and especially of zoology towards which I had always a strong leaning. I had almost given the fight up and resigned myself to being a medical drudge for life when the turning point of my struggles came in a very extraordinary way. One morning I had picked up the standard and was glancing over its contents. There was a complete absence of news and I was about to toss the paper down again when my eyes were caught by an advertisement at the head of the personal column. It was worded in this way. Wanted for one or more days the services of a medical man. It is essential that he should be a man of strong physique, of steady nerves and of a resolute nature. Must be an entomologist, co-leopterist preferred. Apply in person at 77B Brook Street. Application must be made before 12 o'clock today. Now I have already said that I was devoted to zoology. Of all branches of zoology the study of insects was the most attractive to me and of all insects, beetles were the species with which I was most familiar. Butterfly-collectors are numerous but beetles are far more varied and more accessible in these islands than are butterflies. It was this fact which had attracted my attention to them and I had myself made a collection which numbered some hundred varieties. As to the other requisites of the advertisement I knew that my nerves could be depended upon and I had won the weight-throwing competition at the inter-hospital sports. Clearly I was the very man for the vacancy. Within five minutes of my having read the advertisement I was in a cab and on my way to Brook Street. As I drove I kept turning the matter over in my head and trying to make a guess as to what sort of employment it could be which needed such curious qualifications. A strong physique, a resolute nature, a medical training and a knowledge of beetles. What connection could there be between these various requisites? And then there was the disheartening fact that the situation was not a permanent one but terminable from day to day according to the terms of the advertisement. The more I pondered over it the more unintelligible did it become. But at the end of my meditations I always came back to the ground fact that come what might, I had nothing to lose that I was completely at the end of my resources and that I was ready for any adventure however desperate which would put a few honest sovereigns into my pocket. The man fears to fail who has to pay for his failure but there was no penalty which fortune could exact from me. I was like the gambler with empty pockets who is still allowed to try his luck with the others. Number 77B, Brook Street was one of those dingy and yet imposing houses done colored and flat faced with the intensely respectable and solid air which marks the Georgian builder. As I alighted from the cab a young man came out of the door and walked swiftly down the street. In passing me I noticed that he cast an inquisitive and somewhat malevolent glance at me and I took the incident as a good omen for his appearance was that of a rejected candidate and if he resented my application it meant that the vacancy was not yet filled up. Full of hope I ascended the broad steps and wrapped with a heavy knocker. A footman in powder and livery opened the door. Clearly I was in touch with the people of wealth and fashion. Yes, sir, said the footman. I came in answer to, quite so, sir, said the footman. Lord Lynchmere will see you at once in the library. Lord Lynchmere. I had vaguely heard the name but could not for the instant recall anything about him. Following the footman I was shown into a large book-lined room in which there was seated behind a writing desk a small man with a pleasant clean shaven mobile face and long hair shot with grey brushed back from his forehead. He looked me up and down with a very shrewd penetrating glance holding the card which the footman had given him in his right hand. Then he smiled pleasantly and I felt that externally at any rate I possessed the qualifications which he desired. You have come in answer to my advertisement, Dr. Hamilton. He asked. Yes, sir. Do you fulfil the conditions which there are laid down? I believe that I do. You are a powerful man or so I should judge from your appearance. I think that I am fairly strong and resolute. I believe so. Have you ever known what it was to be exposed to imminent danger? No, I don't know that I ever have. But you think you would be prompt and cool at such a time? I hope so. Well, I believe that you would. I have the more confidence in you because you do not pretend to be certain as to what you would do in a position that was new to you. My impression is that, so far as personal qualities go, you are the very man of whom I am in search. That being settled, we may pass on to the next point. Which is? To talk to me about Beatles. I looked across to see if he was joking, but on the contrary, he was leaning eagerly forward across his desk and there was an expression of something like anxiety in his eyes. I am afraid that you do not know about Beatles. He cried. On the contrary, sir, it is the one scientific subject about which I feel that I really do know something. I am overjoyed to hear it. Please talk to me about Beatles. I talked. I do not profess to have said anything original upon the subject, but I gave a short sketch of the characteristics of the Beatles and ran over the more common species with some allusions to the specimens in my own little collection and to the article upon burying Beatles which I had contributed to the Journal of Entomological Science. What? Not a collector? cried Lord Lynchmere. You do not mean that you are yourself a collector? His eyes danced with pleasure at the thought. You are certainly the very man in London for my purpose. I thought that among five millions of people there must be such a man, but the difficulty is to lay one's hands upon him. I have been extraordinarily fortunate in finding you. He rang a gong upon the table and the footman entered. Ask Lady Rosseter to have the goodness to step this way, said his lordship, and a few moments later the lady was ushered into the room. She was a small, middle-aged woman, very like Lord Lynchmere in appearance, with the same quick, alert features and grey-black hair. The expression of anxiety, however, which I had observed upon his face, was very much more marked upon hers. Some great grief seemed to have cast its shadow over her features. As Lord Lynchmere presented me, she turned her face full upon me, and I was shocked to observe a half-heeled scar extending for two inches over her right eyebrow. It was partly concealed by plaster, but nonetheless I could see that it had been a serious wound and not long inflected. Dr. Hamilton is the very man for our purpose, Evelyn, said Lord Lynchmere. He is actually a collector of Beatles, and he has written articles upon the subject. Really, said Lady Rosseter, then you must have heard of my husband. Everyone who knows anything about Beatles must have heard of Sir Thomas Rosseter. For the first time, a thin little ray of light began to break into the obscure business. Here at last was a connection between these people and Beatles. Sir Thomas Rosseter, he was the greatest authority upon the subject in the world. He had made it his life-long study and had written the most exhaustive work upon it. I hastened to assure her that I had read and appreciated it. Have you met my husband? She asked. No, I have not. But you shall, said Lord Lynchmere, with decision. The lady was standing beside the desk and she put her hand upon his shoulder. It was obvious to me as I saw their faces together that they were brother and sister. Are you really prepared for this, Charles? It is noble of you, but you fill me with fears. Her voice quavered with apprehension, and he appeared to me to be equally moved, though he was making strong efforts to conceal his agitation. Yes, yes, dear. It has all settled. It has all decided. In fact, there is no other possible way that I can see. There is one obvious way. No, no, Evelyn. I shall never abandon you. Never. It will come right, depend upon it. It will come right, and surely it looks like the interference of Providence, that so perfect an instrument should be put into our hands. My position was embarrassing, for I felt that for the instant they had forgotten my presence. But Lord Lynchmere came back suddenly to me and to my engagement. The business for which I want you, Dr. Hamilton, is that you should put yourself absolutely at my disposal. I wish you'd come for a short journey with me, to remain always at my side, and to promise to do without question whatever I may ask you, however unreasonable it may appear to you to be. That is a good deal to ask, said I. Unfortunately I cannot put it more plainly, for I do not myself know what turn matters may take. You may be sure, however, that you will not be asked to do anything, which your conscience does not approve. And I promise you that, when all is over, you will be proud to have been concerned in so good a work. If it ends happily, said the lady. Exactly, if it ends happily, his lordship repeated. And terms, I asked, £20 a day. I was amazed at the sum and must have showed my surprise upon my features. It is a rare combination of qualities, as must have struck you when you first read the advertisement, said Lord Lynchmere. Such varied gifts may well command a high return, and I do not conceal from you that your duties may be arduous or even dangerous. Besides, it is possible that one or two days may bring the matter to an end. Please, God! said his sister. So now, Dr. Hamilton, may I rely upon your aid? Most undoubtedly, said I, you have only to tell me what my duties are. Your first duty will be to return to your home. You will pack up whatever you may need for a short visit to the country. We start together from Paddington Station at 3.40 this afternoon. Do we go far? As far as I know, as far as Pangborn. Meet me at the bookstore at 3.30. I shall have the tickets. Goodbye, Dr. Hamilton. And, by the way, there are two things which I should be very glad if you would bring with you in case you have them. One is your case for collecting beetles, and the other is a stick. And the thicker and heavier, the better. You may imagine that I had plenty to think of from the time that I left Brook Street until I set out to meet Lord Lynchmere at Paddington. The whole fantastic business kept arranging and rearranging itself in kaleidoscope forms inside my brain until I had thought out a dozen explanations, each of them more grotesquely improbable than the last. And yet I felt that the truth must be something grotesquely improbable also. At last I gave up all attempts at finding a solution and contented myself with exactly carrying out the instructions which I had received. With a hand-release, specimen-case, and a loaded cane, I was waiting at the Paddington Bookstall when Lord Lynchmere arrived. He was an even smaller man than I had thought, frail and peaky, with a manner which was more nervous than it had been in the morning. He wore a long, thick, travelling ulster, and I observed that he carried a heavy black-thorn cudgel in his hand. I have the tickets," said he, leading the way up the platform. This is our train. I have engaged to carriage, for I am particularly anxious to impress one or two things upon you while we travel down. And yet all that he had to impress upon me might have been said in a sentence, for it was that I was to remember that I was there as a protection to himself, and that I was not, on any consideration, to leave him for an instant. This he repeated again and again, as our journey drew to a close, with an insistence which showed that his nerves were thoroughly shaken. Yes, he said at last, in answer to my looks rather than to my words, I am nervous, Dr. Hamilton. I have always been a timid man, and my timidity depends upon my frail physical health. But my soul is full of fear, and I can bring myself up to face a danger which a less nervous man might shrink from. What I am doing now is done from no compulsion, but entirely from a sense of duty, and yet it is beyond doubt a desperate risk. If things should go wrong, I will have some claims to the title of Martyr. This eternal reading of riddles was too much for me. I felt that I must put a term to it. I felt that I must put a term to it. I felt that I must put a term to it. I felt that I must put a term to it. I felt that I must put a term to it. I felt that I must put a term to it. I felt that I must put a term to it. I think it would be very much better, sir, if you were to trust me entirely, said I. It is impossible for me to act effectively when I do not know what are the objects which we have in view, or even where we are going. Oh, as to where we are going there need be no mystery about that, said he. We are going to Delamere Court, the residence of Sir Thomas Rosseter, with whose work you are so conversant. As to the exact object of our visit, I do not know that at this stage of the proceedings anything would be gained, Dr. Hamilton, by taking you into my complete confidence. I may tell you that we are acting. I say we, because my sister Lady Rosseter takes the same view as myself, with the one object of preventing anything in the nature of a family scandal. That being so, you can understand that I am loathed to give any explanations which are not absolutely necessary. It would be a different matter, Dr. Hamilton, if I were asking your advice. As matters stand it is only your active help which I need and I will indicate to you from time to time how you can best give it. There was nothing more to be said and a poor man can put up with a good deal for twenty pounds a day but I felt nonetheless that Lord Lynchmere was acting heavily towards me. He wished to convert me into a passive tool like the black thorn in his hand. With his sensitive disposition I could imagine, however, that scandal would be abhorrent to him and I realised that he would not take me into his confidence until no other course was open to him. I must trust my own eyes and ears to solve the mystery but I had every confidence that I should not trust to them in vain. Delamere Court lies a good five miles from Pangbourne Station and we drove for that distance in an open fly. Lord Lynchmere sat in deep thought during the time and he never opened his mouth until we were close to our destination. When he did speak it was to give me a piece of information which surprised me. Perhaps you are not aware, said he, that I am a medical man like yourself. No, sir. I did not know it. Yes. I qualified in my younger days when there were several lives between me and the peerage. I have not had occasion to practice but I have founded a useful educational the same. I never regretted the years which I devoted to medical study. These are the gates of Delamere Court. We had come to two high pillars crowned with heraldic monsters which flanked the opening of a winding avenue. Over the laurel bushes and rhododendrons I could see a long, mini-gabled mansion girdled with ivy and toned to the warm, cheery mellow glow of old brickwork. My eyes were still fixed in admiration upon this delightful house when my companion plucked nervously at my sleeve. Here's Sir Thomas, he whispered, please talk beetle all you can. My dear, thin figure, curiously angular and bony had emerged through a gap in the hedge of laurels. In his hand he held a spud and he wore gauntletted gardener's gloves. A broad brimmed, grey hat cast his face into shadow but it struck me as exceedingly austere with an ill-nourished beard and harsh irregular features. The fly pulled up and Lord Lynchmere sprang out. My dear Thomas, how are you? Said he heartily. But the heartiness was by no means reciprocal. The owner of the grounds glared at me over his brother-in-law's shoulder and I caught broken scraps of sentences, well-known wishes, hatred of strangers, unjustifiable intrusion, perfectly inexcusable. Then there was a muttered explanation and the two of them came over together to the side of the fly. Let me present you to Sir Thomas Rosseter, Dr. Hamilton, said Lord Lynchmere. You will find that you have a strong community of tastes. I bowed. Sir Thomas stood very stiffly, looking at me severely from under the broad brim of his hat. Lord Lynchmere tells me that you know something about beetles. Said he. What do you know about beetles? I know what I have learned from Sir Thomas, I answered. Give me the names of the better-known species of the British scarabye. Said he. I had not expected an examination, but fortunately I was ready for one. My answers seemed to please him for his stern features relaxed. You appear to have read my book with some profit, sir. Said he. It is a rare thing for me to meet anyone who takes an intelligent approach to such matters. People can find time for such trivialities as sport or society, and yet the beetles are overlooked. I can assure you that the greater part of the idiots in this part of the country are unaware that I have ever written a book at all. I, the first man who ever described the true function of the Eletria. I am glad to see you, sir, and I have no doubt that I can show you some specimens that will interest you. He stepped into the fly and drove with us up to the house, expounding to me as we went some recent researches which he had made into the anatomy of the Ladybird. I have said that Sir Thomas Rossiter wore a large hat drawn down over his brows. As he ended the haul he uncovered himself and I was at once aware of a singular characteristic which the hat had concealed. His forehead, and higher still on account of receding hair, was in a continual state of movement. Some nervous weakness kept the muscles in a constant spasm which sometimes produced a mere twitching and sometimes a curious rotary movement unlike anything which I had seen before. It was strikingly visible as he turned towards us after entering the study and seemed the more singular from the contrast with the hard eyes which looked out from underneath those palpitating brows. I am sorry said he that Lady Rossiter is not here to help me welcome you. By the way Charles did Evelyn say anything about the date of her return? She wished to stay in town for a few more days said Lord Lynchmere. You know how ladies' social duties accumulate if they have been for some time in the country. My sister has many old friends in London at present. Well, she is her own mistress and I should not wish to alter her plans but I shall be glad when I see her again. It is very lonely here without her company. I was afraid that you might find it so and that was partly why I ran down. My young friend Dr. Hamilton is so much interested in the subject which you have made your own that I thought you would not mind his accompanying me. I lead a retired life in London and my aversion to strangers grows upon me said our host. I have sometimes thought that my nerves are not as good as they were. My travels in search of Beatles in my younger days took me into many malaria and unhealthy places but a brother co-leopterist like yourself is always a welcome guest and I shall be delighted if you will look over my collection which I think that I may without exaggeration describe as the best in Europe. And so no doubt it was. He had a huge, open cabinet arranged in shallow drawers and here neatly ticketed and classified were Beatles from every corner of the earth black, brown, blue, green and mottled. Every now and then as he swept his hand over the lines and lines of impaled insects he would catch up some rare specimen and handling it with as much delicacy and reverence as if it were a precious relic he would hold forth upon its peculiarities and the circumstances under which it came into his possession it was evidently an unusual thing for him to meet with a sympathetic listener and he talked and talked till the spring evening had deepened into night and the gong announced that it was time to dress for dinner all the time Lord Lynchmeer said nothing but he stood at his brother-in-law's elbow and I caught him continually shooting curious little questioning glances into his face and his own features expressed some strong emotion apprehension sympathy expectation I seemed to read them all I was sure that Lord Lynchmeer was fearing something and awaiting something but what that something might be quietly but pleasantly and I should have been entirely at my ease if it had not been for that continual sense of tension upon the part of Lord Lynchmeer as to our host I found that he improved upon acquaintance he spoke constantly with affection of his absent wife and also of his little son who had recently been sent to school the house he said was not the same without them if it were not for his scientific studies he did not know how he could get through the days after dinner we smoked for some time in the billiard room and finally went early to bed and then it was that for the first time the suspicion that Lord Lynchmeer was the lunatic crossed my mind he followed me into my bedroom when our host had retired doctor said he speaking in a low hurried voice he asked me you must spend the night in my bedroom what do you mean I prefer not to explain but this is part of your duties my room is close by and you can return to your own before the servant calls you in the morning but why I asked because I am nervous of being alone said he that's the reason since you must have a reason it seemed rank lunacy the servant of those 20 pounds would overcome many objections I followed him to his room well said I there's only room for one in that bed only one shall occupy it said he and the other must remain on watch why said I one would think you expected to be attacked perhaps I do in that case why not lock your door perhaps I want to be attacked it looked more and more like lunacy however there was nothing for it but to submit I shrugged my shoulders and sat down in the armchair beside the empty fireplace I am to remain on watch then said I ruefully we will divide the night if you will watch until two watch the remainder very good call me at two o'clock then I will do so keep your ears open and if you hear any sounds wake me instantly instantly you hear you can rely upon it I tried to look as solemn as he did and for God's sake don't go to sleep said he and so taking off only his coat recovered it over him and settled down for the night it was a melancholy vigil and made more so by my own sense of its folly supposing that by any chance Lord Lynchmere had caused a suspect that he was subject to danger in the house of Sir Thomas Rosseter why on earth could he not lock his door and so protect himself his own answer that he might wish to be attacked was absurd why should he possibly wish to be attacked by him clearly Lord Lynchmere was suffering from some singular delusion and the result was that on an imbecile pretext I was to be deprived of my night's rest still however absurd I was determined to carry out his injunctions to the letter as long as I was in his employment I sat therefore beside the empty fireplace and listened to a sonorous chiming clock somewhere down the passage which gurgled and struck every quarter of an hour it was an endless vigil save for that single clock an absolute silence rained throughout the great house a small lamp stood on a table at my elbow throwing a circle of light round my chair but leaving the corners of the room draped in shadow on the bed Lord Lynchmere was breathing peacefully I envied him his quiet sleep and again and again my own eyelids drooped but every time my sense of duty came to my help and I sat up rubbing my eyes and pinching myself with a determination to see my irrational watch to an end and I did so from down the passage came the chimes of two o'clock and I laid my hand upon the shoulder of the sleeper instantly he was sitting up with an expression of the keenest interest upon his face you have heard something no sir it is two o'clock very good I will watch you can go to sleep I lay down under the coverlet as he had done and was soon unconscious my last recollection was of that circle of lamp light and of the small hunched up figure and strained anxious face of Lord Lynchmere in the centre of it how long I slept I do not know but I was suddenly aroused by a sharp tug at my sleeve the room was in darkness but a hot smell of oil told me that the lamp had only that instant been extinguished quick quick said Lord Lynchmere's voice in my ear I sprang out of bed he's still dragging at my arm over here he whispered and pulled me into a corner of the room hush listen in the silence of the night I could distinctly hear that someone was coming down the corridor it was a stealthy step faint and intermittent as of a man who paused cautiously after every stride sometimes for half a minute there was no sound and then came the shuffle and creak which told of a fresh advance my companion was trembling with excitement his hand which still held my sleeve twitched like a branch in the wind what is it I whispered it's he Sir Thomas yes what does he want hush do nothing until I tell him I was conscious now that someone was trying the door there was the faintest little rattle from the handle and then I dimly saw a thin slit of subdued light there was a lamp burning somewhere far down the passage and it just sufficed to make the outside visible from the darkness of our room the grayish slit grew broader and broader very gradually very gently and then outlined against it I saw the dark figure of a man he was squat and crouching with the silhouette of a bulky and misshapen dwarf slowly the door swung open with this ominous shape framed in the centre of it and then in an instant the crouching figure shot up there was a tiger spring across the room and thud, thud, thud came three tremendous blows from some heavy object upon the bed I was so paralysed with amazement that I stood motionless and staring until I was aroused by a yell for help from my companion the open light shed enough light for me to see the outline of things and there was little Lord Lynchmere with his arms around the neck of his brother-in-law holding bravely onto him like a game-bull terrier with its teeth into a gaunt dearhound the tall bony man dashed himself about writhing round and round to get a grip upon his assailant but the other clutching on from behind still kept his hold though his shrill frightened cries showed how unequal he felt the contest to be I sprang to the rescue and the two of us managed to throw Sir Thomas to the ground though he made his teeth meet in my shoulder with all my youth and weight and strength it was a desperate struggle before we could master his frenzied struggles but at last we secured his arms with the waist-cord of the dressing-gown which he was wearing I was holding his legs while Lord Lynchmere was endeavouring to relight the lamp when there came the pattering of many feet in a passage and the butler and two footmen who had been alarmed by the cries rushed into the room with their aid we had no further difficulty in securing our prisoner who lay foaming and glaring upon the ground one glance at his face was enough to prove that he was a dangerous maniac while the short heavy hammer which lay beside the bed showed how murderous had been his intentions do not use any violence said Lord Lynchmere as we raised the struggling man to his feet he will have a period of stupa after this excitement I believe that it is coming on already as he spoke the convulsions became less violent and the madman's head fell forward upon his breast as if he were overcome by sleep we led him down the passage and stretched him upon his own bed where he lay unconscious breathing heavily two of you will watch him said Lord Lynchmere and now Dr. Hamilton if you will return with me to my room I will give you the explanation which my horror of scandal has perhaps caused me to delay too long come what may you will never have cause to regret your share in this night's work the case may be made clear in a very few words he continued my poor brother in law is one of the best fellows upon earth a loving husband and an esteemable father but he comes from a stock which is deeply tainted with insanity he has more than once had homicidal outbreaks which are the more painful because his inclination is always to attack the very person to whom he is most attached his son was sent away to school to avoid this danger and then came an attempt upon my sister his wife from which she escaped with injuries that you may have observed when you met her in London you understand that he knows nothing of the matter when he is in his sound senses and would ridicule the suggestion that he could, under any circumstances injure those whom he loves so dearly it is often, as you know a characteristic of such maladies that it is absolutely impossible to convince the man who suffers from them of their existence our great object was, of course to get him under restraint before he could stain his hands with blood but the matter was full of difficulty he is a recluse in his habits and would not see any medical man besides it was necessary for our purpose that the medical man should convince himself of his insanity and he is as sane as you are I save on these very rare occasions but fortunately before he has these attacks he always shows certain premonitory symptoms which are providential danger signals warning us to be upon our guard the chief of these is that nervous contortion of the forehead which you must have observed this is a phenomenon which always appears from three to four days before his attacks of frenzy the moment it showed itself his wife came into town on some pretext and took refuge in my house in Brook Street it remained for me to convince a medical man of Sir Thomas's insanity without which it was impossible to put him where he could do no harm the first problem was how to get a medical man into his house I thought to me of his interest in Beatles and his love for anyone who shared his tastes I advertised therefore and was fortunate enough to find anew the very man I wanted a stout companion was necessary for I knew that the lunacy could only be proved by a murderous assault and I had every reason to believe that that assault will be made upon myself since he had the warmest regard for me in his moments of sanity I think your intelligence will supply all the rest I did not know that the attack would come by night but I thought it very probable for the crises of such cases do usually occur in the early hours of the morning I'm a very nervous man myself but I saw no other way in which I could remove this terrible danger for my sister's life I need not ask you whether you are willing to sign the lunacy papers undoubtedly but two signatures are necessary you forget that I am myself a holder of a medical degree I have the papers on a side table here so if you will be good enough to sign them now we can have the patient removed in the morning so that was my visit to Sir Thomas Rossiter the famous beetle hunter and that was also my first step upon the ladder of success for Lady Rossiter and Lord Lynchmere have proved to be staunch friends and they have never forgotten my association with them in their time of need Sir Thomas is out and said to be cured but I still think that if I spent another night at Delamere Court I should be inclined to lock my door upon the inside end of the beetle hunter