Uncanny Tales

by Various

  IV

  THE CASE OF SIR ALISTER MOERAN

  "Ethne?" My aunt looked at me with raised brows and smiled. "My dearMaurice, hadn't you heard? Ethne went abroad directly after Christmas,with the Wilmotts, for a trip to Egypt. She's having a glorious time!"

  I am afraid I looked as blank as I felt. I had only landed in Englandthree days ago, after two years' service in India, and the one thing Ihad been looking forward to was seeing my cousin Ethne again.

  "Then, since you did not know she was away, you, of course, have notheard the other news?" went on my aunt.

  "No," I answered in a wooden voice. "I've heard nothing."

  She beamed. "The dear child is engaged to a Sir Alister Moeran, whom shemet in Luxor. Everyone is delighted, as it is a splendid match for her.Lady Wilmott speaks most highly of him, a man of excellent family andposition, and perfectly charming to boot."

  I believe I murmured something suitable, but it was absurd to pretend tobe overjoyed at the news. The galling part of it was that Aunt Lindaknew, and was chuckling, so to speak, over my discomfiture.

  "If you are going up to Wimberley Park," she went on sweetly, "you willprobably meet them both, as your Uncle Bob has asked us all there forthe February house-party. He cabled an invitation to Sir Alister as soonas he heard of the engagement. Wasn't it good of him?"

  I replied that it was; then, having heard quite enough for one day ofthe charms of Ethne's _fiance_, I took my leave.

  That night, after cursing myself for a churl, I wrote and wished hergood luck. The next morning I received a letter from Uncle Bob asking meto go to Wimberley; and early in the following week I travelled up toCumberland. I received a warm welcome from the old General. As a boy Iused to spend the greater part of my holidays with him, and beingchildless himself, he regarded me more or less as a son.

  On February 16th Ethne, her mother, and Sir Alister Moeran arrived. Imotored to the station to meet them. The evening was cold and raw and sodark that it was almost impossible to distinguish people on the badlylighted little platform. However, as I groped my way along, I recognisedEthne's voice, and thus directed, hurried towards the group. As I did sotwo gleaming, golden eyes flashed out at me through the darkness.

  "Hullo!" I thought. "So she's carted along the faithful Pincher!" Butthe next moment I found I was mistaken, for Ethne was holding out bothhands to me in greeting. There was no dog with her, and in the bustlethat followed, I forgot to seek further for the solution of those twofiery lights.

  "It was good of you to come, Maurice," Ethne said with unmistakablepleasure, then, turning to the man at her side, "Alister, this is mycousin, Captain Kilvert, of whom you have heard me speak."

  We murmured the usual formalities in the usual manner, but as my fingerstouched his, I experienced the most curious sensation down the region ofmy spine. It took me back to Burma and a certain very uncomfortablenight that I once passed in the jungle. But the impression was sofleeting as to be indefinable, and soon I was busy getting everyonesettled in the car.

  So far, except that he possessed an exceptionally charming voice, I hadno chance of forming an opinion of my cousin's _fiance_. It washalf-past seven when we got back to the house, so we all went straightup to our rooms to dress for dinner.

  Everyone was assembled in the drawing-room when Sir Alister Moeran camein, and I shall never forget the effect his appearance made.Conversation ceased entirely for an instant. There was a kind ofbreathless pause, which was almost audible as my uncle rose to greethim. In all my life I had never seen a handsomer man, and I don'tsuppose anyone else there had either. It was the most startling,arresting style of beauty one could possibly imagine, and yet, even as Istared at him in admiration, the word "Black!" flashed into my mind.

  Black! I pulled myself up sharply. We English, who have lived out in theEast, are far too prone to stigmatise thus anyone who shows the smallesttrace of being a "half breed"; but in Sir Alister's case there was noteven a suspicion of this. He was no darker than scores of men of my ownnationality, and besides, he belonged, I knew, to a very old Scottishfamily. Yet, try as I would to strangle the idea, all through theevening the same horrible, unaccountable notion clung to me.

  That he was the personality of the gathering there was not the slightestdoubt. Men and women alike seemed attracted by him, for hisindividuality was on a par with his looks.

  Several times during dinner I glanced at Ethne, but it was easy to seethat all her attention was taken up by her lover. Yet, oddly enough, Iwas not jealous in the ordinary way. I saw the folly of imagining that Icould stand a chance against a man like Moeran, and, moreover, heinterested me too deeply. His knowledge of the East was extraordinary,and later, when the ladies had retired, he related many curiousexperiences.

  "Might I ask," said my uncle's friend, Major Faucett, suddenly, "whetheryou were in the Service, or had you a Government appointment out there?"

  Sir Alister smiled, and under his moustache I caught the gleam ofstrong, white teeth.

  "As a matter of fact, neither. I am almost ashamed to say I have noprofession, unless I may call myself an explorer."

  "And why not?" put in Uncle Bob. "Provided your explorations were tosome purpose and of benefit to the community in general, I consider youare doing something worth while."

  "Exactly," Sir Alister replied. "From my earliest boyhood I have alwayshad the strangest hankering for the East. I say strange, because to myparents it was inexplicable, neither of them having the slightestleaning in that direction, though to me it seemed the most naturaldesire in the world. I was like an alien in a foreign land, longing toget home. I recollect, as a child, my nurse thought me a beastly uncannykid because I loved to lie in bed and listen to the cats howling andfighting outside. I used to put my head half under the blankets andimagine I was in my lair in the jungle, and those were the jackals andpanthers prowling around outside."

  "I suppose you'd been reading adventure books," Uncle Bob said, with alaugh. "I played at much the same game when I was a youngster, only inmy case it was Redskins."

  "Possibly," Sir Alister answered with a slight shrug, "only mine wasn'ta game that I played with any other boys, it was a gnawing desire, whichsimply had to be satisfied; and the opportunity came. When I wasfourteen, the father of a school friend of mine, who was going out toIndia, asked me to go out with him and the boy for the trip. Of course,I went."

  "I wonder," the Major remarked, "that you ever came back once you gotthere, since you were so frightfully keen."

  "I was certain I should return," he replied grimly.

  A pause followed his last words, then Uncle Bob rose and led the way tothe drawing-room, where for the remainder of the evening Sir Alister waschiefly monopolised by the ladies.

  * * * * *

  "Well, Maurice," Uncle Bob said, when on the following evening I wassitting in his study having my usual before-dinner chat with him, "andhow do you like Ethne's future husband?"

  I hesitated. "I--I really don't know," I replied.

  "Come, boy," he said, with his whimsical smile, "why not be frank andown to a very natural jealousy?"

  "Because," I answered simply, "the feeling Sir Alister Moeran inspiresin me is not jealousy, curiously enough. It's something else, somethingindefinable that comes over me now and again. Dogs don't like him, andthat's always a bad sign, to my thinking."

  My uncle's bushy eyebrows went up slightly.

  "When did you make this discovery?"

  "This morning," I replied. "You know I took him and Ethne round theplace. Well, the first thing I noticed was that Mike refused to comewith us, although both Ethne and I called him. As we passed through thehall he slunk away into the library. I thought it a bit strange, as he'susually so frantic to go out with me. Still, I didn't attach anysignificance to the matter until later, when we visited the kennels. Idon't know why, but one takes it for granted that a man is keen on dogssomehow and----"

  "Isn't Sir Alister?"

  "
They are not keen on him, anyhow," I answered grimly. "They had heardmy voice as we approached and were all barking with delight, butdirectly we entered the place there was a dead silence, save for a fewominous growls from Argo. It was a most extraordinary sight. They allbristled up, so to speak, sniffing the air though on the scent ofsomething. I let Bess and Fritz loose, but instead of jumping up, asthey usually do, they hung back and showed the whites of their eyes in away I've never seen before. I actually had to whistle to them sharplyseveral times before they came, and then it was in a slinking manner,taking good care to put Ethne and me between themselves and Moeran, andlooking askance at him the whole while."

  "H'm!" murmured the General with puckered brows. "That was certainlyodd, very odd!"

  "It was," I agreed, warming to the subject, "but there's odder still tocome. I dare say you'll think it all my fancy, but the minute thoseanimals put their heads up and sniffed in that peculiar way, Idistinctly smelt the musky, savage odour of wild beasts. You know itwell, anyone who has been through a jungle does."

  Uncle Bob nodded. "I know it, too; 'Musky' is the very word--the smellof sun-warmed fur. Jove, how it carries me back! I remember once, yearsago, coming upon a litter of lion cubs, in a cave, when I was out inAfrica----"

  "Yes! Yes!" I cried eagerly. "And that is what I smelt this morning.Those dogs smelt it, too. They felt that there was something alien,abnormal in their midst."

  "That something being--Sir Alister Moeran?"

  I felt myself flush up under his gaze. I got up and walked about theroom.

  "I don't understand it," I said doggedly. "I tell you plainly, UncleBob, I don't understand. My impression of the man last night was'black,' but he's not black, I know that perfectly well, no more thanyou or I are, and yet I can't get over the behaviour of those hounds.It wasn't only one of 'em, it was the whole lot. They seemed to regardhim as their natural enemy! And that smell! I'm sure Ethne detected ittoo, for she kept glancing about her in a startled, mystified way."

  "And Sir Alister?" queried the General. "Do you mean to say he did notnotice anything amiss?"

  I shrugged my shoulders. "He didn't appear to. I called attention myselfto the singular attitude of the hounds, and he said quite casually:'Dogs never do take to me much.'"

  Uncle Bob gave a short laugh. "Our friend is evidently not sensitive."He paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then added: "It certainly israther curious, but, for Heaven's sake, boy, don't get imagining allsorts of things!"

  This nettled me and made me wish I had held my tongue. I was quite awarethat my story might have sounded somewhat fantastic from a stranger;still, he ought to have known me better than to accuse me ofimagination. I abruptly changed the subject, and shortly after left theroom.

  But I could not banish from my mind the incident of the morning. I couldnot forget the appealing faces of those dogs. Ethne and Sir Alister hadleft me there and returned to the house together, and, after theirdeparture, those poor, dumb beasts had gathered round me in a way thatwas absolutely pathetic, licking and fondling my hands, as thoughapologising for their previous misconduct. Still, I understood. Thatbristling up their spines was precisely the same sensation I hadexperienced when I first met Sir Alister Moeran.

  As I was slowly mounting the stairs on my way up to dress, I heardsomeone running up after me, and turned round to find Ethne beside me.

  "Maurice," she said, rather breathlessly, "tell me, you did not punishFritz and Bess for not coming at once when you called them thismorning?"

  "No," I answered.

  She gave a nervous little laugh. "I'm glad of that. I thoughtperhaps----" She stopped short, then rushed on, "You know how queermother is about cats--can't bear one in the room, and how they alwaysfly out directly she comes in? Well, dogs are the same with Alister.He--he told me so himself. It seems funny to me, and I suppose to you,because we're so fond of all kinds of animals; but I don't really seewhy it should be any more extraordinary to have an antipathy for dogsthan for cats, and no one thinks anything of it if you dislike cats."

  "That is so," I said thoughtfully.

  "Anyway," she went on, "it is not our own fault if a certain animal doesnot instinctively take to us."

  "Of course not," I replied stoutly. "You're surely not worrying aboutit, are you?"

  She hastened to assure me that she was not, but I could see that myindorsing her opinion was a great relief to her. She had been afraidthat I should think it unnatural. I did for that matter, but I couldnot, of course, tell her so.

  That night Sir Alister and I sat up late talking after the other men hadretired. We had got on the subject of India and had been comparing notesas to our different adventures. From this we went on to discussingperilous situations and escapes, and it was then that he narrated to mea very curious incident.

  "It happened when I was only twenty-one," he said, "the year after myfather died. I think I told you that as soon as ever I became my ownmaster, I packed up and was off to the East. I had a friend with me, aboy who had been my best pal at school. They used to call us 'Black andWhite.' He was fair and girlish-looking, and his name was Buchanan. Hewas just as keen on India as I was, and purposed writing a bookafterwards on our experiences.

  "Our intention was to explore the wildest, most savage districts, and asa start we selected the province of Orissa. The forests there arewonderful, and it is there, if anywhere, that the almost extinct Indianlion is still to be found. We engaged two sturdy hillmen to accompany usand pushed our way downwards from Calcutta over mountains, rivers andthrough some of the densest jungles I've ever traversed. It was on theoutskirts of one of the latter that the tragedy took place. We hadpitched our tents one evening after a long, tiring day, and turned inearly to sleep, Buchanan and I in one, and the two Bhils in the other."

  Sir Alister paused for a few moments, toying with his cigar in anabstracted manner, then continued in the same clear, even voice:

  "When I awoke next morning, I found my friend lying beside me dead, andblood all round us! His throat was torn open by the teeth of some wildbeast, his breast was horribly mauled and lacerated, and his eyes werewide, staring open, and their expression was awful. He must have died ahideous death and known it!"

  Again he stopped, but I made no comment, only waited with breathlessinterest till he went on.

  "I called the two men. They came and looked, and for the first time Isaw terror written on their faces. Their nostrils quivered as thoughscenting something; then 'Tiger!' they gasped simultaneously.

  "One of them said he had heard a stifled scream in the night, but hadthought it merely some animal in the jungle. The whole thing was amystery. How I came to sleep undisturbed through it all, how I escapedthe same fate, and why the tiger did not carry off his prey----"

  "You are sure it was a tiger?" I put in.

  "I think there was no doubt of it," Sir Alister replied. "The Bhilsswore the teeth-marks were unmistakable, and not only that, but I sawanother case seven years later. The body of a young woman was found inthe compound outside my bungalow, done to death in precisely the sameway. And several of the natives testified as to there being a tiger inthat vicinity, for they had found three or four young goats destroyed insimilar fashion."

  "Who was the girl?" I asked.

  Moeran slowly turned his lucent, amber eyes upon me as he answered. "Shewas a German, a sort of nursery governess at the English doctor's. Hewas naturally frightfully upset about it, and a regular panic sprang upin the neighbourhood. The natives got a superstitious scare--thoughtone of their gods was wroth about something and demanded sacrifice; butthe white people were simply out to kill the tiger."

  "And did they?" I queried eagerly.

  Sir Alister shook his head. "That I can't say, as I left the place verysoon afterwards and went up to the mountains."

  A long silence followed, during which I stared at him in mutefascination. Then an unaccountable impulse made me say abruptly:"Moeran, how old are you?"

  His finely-marked eyebrows
went up in surprise at the irrelevance of myquestion, but he smiled.

  "Funny you should ask! It so happens that it's my birthday to-morrow. Ishall be thirty-five."

  "Thirty-five!" I repeated. Then with a shiver I rose from my seat. Theroom seemed to have turned suddenly cold.

  "Come," I said, "let's go to bed."

  * * * * *

  Next night at dinner I proposed Sir Alister's health, and we all drankto him and his "bride-to-be." They had that day definitely settled thedate of their marriage for two months ahead; Ethne was looking radiantand everyone seemed in the best of spirits.

  We danced and romped and played rowdy games like a pack of children.Nothing was too silly for us to attempt. While a one-step was in fullswing some would-be wag suddenly turned off all the lights. It was thenthat for a moment I caught sight of a pair of glowing, fiery eyesshining through the darkness. Instantly my thoughts flew back to thatmeeting at the station, when I had fancied that Ethne had her dog in herarms. A chill, sinister feeling crept over me, but I kept my gaze fixedsteadily in the same direction. The next minute the lights went up, andI found myself staring straight at Sir Alister Moeran. His arm was roundEthne's waist and she was smiling up into his face. Almost immediatelythey took up the dance again, and I and my partner followed suit. Butall my gaiety had departed. An indefinable oppression seized me andclung to me for the rest of the evening.

  As I emerged from my room next morning I saw old Giles, the butler,hurrying down the corridor towards me.

  "Oh, Mr. Maurice--Captain Kilvert, sir!" he burst out, consternation inevery line of his usually stolid countenance. "A dreadful thing hashappened! How it's come about I can't for the life of me say, and howwe're going to tell the General, the Lord only knows!"

  "What?" I asked, seizing him by the arm. "What is it?"

  "The dawg, sir," he answered in a hoarse whisper, "Mike--in thestudy----"

  I waited to hear no more, but strode off down the stairs, Giles hobblingbeside me as fast as he could, and together we entered the study.

  In the middle of the floor lay the body of Mike. A horrible forebodinggripped me, and I quickly knelt down and raised the dog's head. His neckwas torn open, bitten right through to the windpipe, the blood stilldripping from it into a dark pool on the carpet.

  A cold, numbing sensation stole down my spine and made my legs growsuddenly weak. Beads of perspiration gathered on my forehead as Islowly rose to my feet and faced Giles.

  "What's the meaning of it, sir?" he asked, passing his hand across hisbrow in utter bewilderment. "That dawg was as right as possible when Ishut up last night, and he couldn't have got out."

  "No," I answered mechanically, "he couldn't have got out."

  "Looks like some wild beast had attacked him," muttered the old man, inawed tones, as he bent over the lifeless body. "D'ye see the teethmarks, sir? But it's not possible--not possible."

  "No," I said again, in the same wooden fashion. "It's not possible."

  "But how're we going to account for it to the General?" he criedbrokenly. "Oh, Mr. Maurice, sir, it's dreadful!"

  I nodded. "You're right, Giles! Still, it isn't your fault, nor mine.Leave the matter to me. I'll break it to my uncle."

  It was a most unenviable task, but I did it. Poor Uncle Bob! I shallnever forget his face when he saw the mutilated body of the dog that foryears had been his faithful companion. He almost wept, only rage andresentment against the murderer were so strong in him that they thrustgrief for the time into the background. The mysterious, incomprehensiblemanner of the dog's death only added to his anger, for there wasapparently no one on whom to wreak his vengeance.

  The news caused general concern throughout the house, and Ethne wasfrightfully upset.

  "Oh, Alister, isn't it awful?" she exclaimed, tears standing in herpretty blue eyes. "Poor, darling Mike!"

  "Yes," he answered rather absently. "It's most unfortunate. Valuabledog, too, wasn't it?"

  I walked away. The man's calm, handsome face filled me suddenly withunspeakable revulsion. The atmosphere of the room seemed to become heavyand noisome. I felt compelled to get out into the open to breathe.

  I found the General tramping up and down the drive in the rain, his chinsunk deep into the collar of his overcoat, his hat pulled low down overhis eyes. I joined him without speaking, and in silence we paced side byside for another quarter of an hour.

  "Uncle Bob," I said abruptly at last, "take my advice. Have one of thehounds indoors to-night--Princep, he's a good watch-dog."

  The General stopped short in his walk and looked at me.

  "You've something on your mind, boy. What is it?"

  "This," I answered grimly. "Whoever, or whatever killed Mike was in thehouse last night, or got in, after Giles shut up. It may still be therefor all we know. In the dark, dark deeds are done, and--well, I thinkit's wise to take precautions."

  "Good God, Maurice, if there is any creature in hiding, we'll soon haveit out! I'll have the place searched now. But the thing's impossible,absurd!"

  I shrugged my shoulders. "Then Mike died a natural death?"

  "Natural?" he echoed fiercely. "Don't talk rubbish!"

  "In that case," I said quietly, "you'll agree to let one of the dogssleep in."

  He gave me a long, troubled, searching look, then said gruffly: "Verywell, but don't make any fuss about it. Women are such nervous beingsand we don't want to upset anyone."

  "You needn't be afraid of that," I replied, "I'll manage it all right."

  There was no further talk of Mike that day. The visitors, seeing howdistressed the General was, by tacit consent avoided the subject, buteveryone felt the dampening effect.

  That night, before I retired to my room, I took a lantern, went out tothe kennels and brought in Princep, a pure-bred Irish setter. He was adog of exceptional intelligence, and when I spoke to him, explaining thereason of his presence indoors, he seemed to know instinctively what wasrequired of him.

  As I passed the study I noticed a light coming from under the door.Somewhat surprised, I turned the handle and looked in. My uncle wasseated before his desk in the act of loading a revolver. He glanced upsharply as I entered.

  "Oh, it's you, is it? Got the dog in?"

  "Yes," I replied, "I've left him in the library with the door open."

  He regarded the revolver pensively for a few moments, then laid it downin front of him.

  "You've no theory as to this--this business?"

  I shook my head, I could offer no explanation. Yet all the while therelurked, deep down in my heart, a hideous suspicion, a suspicion somonstrous that had I voiced it, I should probably have been consideredmad. And so I held my peace on the subject and merely wished my unclegood-night.

  It was about one o'clock when I got into bed, but my brain was far tooagitated for sleep. Something I had heard years ago, some old wives'tales about a man's life changing every seven years, kept dinning in myhead. I was striving to remember how the story went, when a slight soundoutside caught my ear. In a second I was out of bed and had silentlyopened the door. As I did so, someone passed close by me down thecorridor.

  Cautiously, with beating heart, I crept out and followed. However, Ialmost exclaimed aloud in my amazement, for the light from a window fellfull on the figure ahead of me, and I recognised my cousin Ethne. Shewas sleep-walking, a habit she had had from her childhood, and whichapparently she had never outgrown.

  For some minutes I stood there, undecided how to act, while she passedon down the stairs, out of sight. To wake her I knew would be wrong. Iknew, also, that she had walked thus a score of times without coming toany harm. There was, therefore, no reason why I should not return to myroom and leave her to her wandering, yet still I remained rooted to thespot, all my senses strained, alert. And then suddenly I heard Princepwhine. A series of low, stertorous growls followed, growls that made myblood run cold! With swift, noiseless steps, I stole along to theminstrel's gallery which overlooked that porti
on of the hall thatcommunicated with the library. As I did so, there arose from immediatelybelow me a succession of sharp snarls, such as a dog gives when he isin deadly fear or pain.

  A shaft of moonlight fell across the polished floor, and by its aid Iwas just able to distinguish the form of Princep crouched against thewainscoting. He was breathing heavily, his head turned all the whiletowards the opposite side of the room. I looked in the same direction.Out of the darkness gleamed two fiery, golden orbs, two eyes that movedslowly to and fro, backwards and forwards, as though the Thing wereprowling round and round. Now it seemed to crouch as though ready tospring, and I could hear the savage growling as of some beast of prey.

  As I watched, horrified, fascinated, a _portiere_ close by was lifted,and the white-robed figure of Ethne appeared. All heedless of danger shecame on across the hall, and the Thing, with soft, stealthy tread, cameafter her. I knew then that there was not an instant to be lost, andlike a flash I darted along the gallery and down the stairs. But ere Igained the hall a piercing scream rent the air, and I was just in timeto see Ethne borne to the ground by a great, dark form, which had sprungat her like a tiger.

  Half frantic, I dashed forward, snatching as I did so a rapier from thewall, the only weapon handy. But before I reached the spot, a voice fromthe study doorway called: "Stop!" and the next moment the report of apistol rang out.

  "Good God!" I cried. "Who have you shot?"

  "Not the girl," answered the grim voice of my uncle, "you may trust myaim for that! I fired at the eyes of the Thing. Here, quick, get lightsand let's see what has happened."

  But my one and only thought was for Ethne. Moving across to the darkmass on the floor, I stretched out my hand. My fingers touched a smooth,fabric-like cloth, but the smell was the smell of fur, the musky,sun-warmed fur of the jungle! With sickening repugnance, I seized theThing by its two broad shoulders and rolled it over. Then I carefullyraised Ethne from the ground. At that moment Giles and a footmanappeared with candles. In silence my uncle took one and came towards me,the servants with scared, blanched countenances following.

  The light fell full upon the dead, upturned face of Sir Alister Moeran.His upper lip was drawn back, showing the strong, white teeth. The twofront ones were tipped with blood. Instantly my eyes turned to Ethne'sthroat, and there I saw deep, horrible marks, like the marks of atiger's fangs; but, thank God, they had not penetrated far enough to doany serious injury! My uncle's shot had come just in time to save her.

  "Merely fainted, hasn't she?" he asked anxiously.

  I nodded. My relief at finding this was so, was too great for words.

  "Heaven be praised!" I heard him mutter. Then lifting my beautiful,unconscious burden in my arms, I carried her upstairs to her room.

  * * * * *

  Can I explain, can anyone explain, the mysterious vagaries of atavism? Ionly know that there are amongst us, rare instances fortunately, butexistent nevertheless--men with the souls of beasts. They may becognisant of the fact or otherwise. In the case of Sir Alister I feelsure it was the latter. He had probably no more idea than I whatfar-reaching, evil strain it was that came out in his blood and turnedhim, every seven years, practically into a vampire.