THE BLACK SPANIEL
'MURDERER!" I SAID, "MURDERER!1
THE
BLACK SPANIEL
And Other Stories
BY ROBERT HICHENS
Author of " The Garden of Allah," " The Woman With the Fan," "Felix," etc.
WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS BY
A. FOKESTIEK
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1905, by ROBERT HICHENS
This edition published in October,
Presswork by The University Press, Cambridge, U. S. A.
CONTENTS
FACE
THE BLACK SPANIEL . i
THE MISSION OF MR. EUSTACE GREYNE . . 147
DESERT AIR . . . . .231
" FIN TIREUR" . < . . .255
HALIMA AND THE SCORPIONS . . . 269
THE DESERT DRUM ..... 287
THE PRINCESS AND THE JEWEL DOCTOR . . 307
THE FIGURE IN THE MIRAGE . . .321
SAFTI'S SUMMER DAY .... 337
SMAIN ...... 343
THE SPINSTER . . . . . 351
PANCRAZIA'S HAIR . . . . 371
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"Murderer! " I said, "Murderer!" . . Frontispiece
FACING PAGE
She and her Companions were obviously Italians . 4
As I walked back I thought over Vernon's last words . 26
As he vanished, Deeming appeared at the hall -door . 63
" That dog there," saidVernon; "how long have you
had him ? " . . . . . -73
While I was there Deeming came back unexpectedly . 131
I went out into the night carrying it in my arms . 145
PART I — THE DEATH
IN the big hall of the Grand Hotel at Rome I introduced Peter Deeming to Vernon Kersteven.
The two men were friends of mine, and I wanted them to like each other; and, perhaps because they were both fond of me, I thought that they would get on well together, and that we should form a happy and a lively trio at dinner. Was this the fancy of an egoist? I have sometimes wondered since.
At the time I speak of I had known Deem- ing for over two years, having met him first in London at a friend's house. Vernon was a comparatively recent acquaintance whom I had encountered when I was travelling in Al- geria ; but already in my heart I gave him the dearer title, for I had come to like him greatly, and I knew that my sympathy was returned.
The two men were very different — in their appearance, their natures, their ways of life — but differences sometimes seem to make for pleasant intercourse, and even for intimacy. We often love ourselves ; but do we generally love those who markedly resemble us?
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T&E BLiACK SPANIEL
Vernon usually spent his winters in Rome, where he had a delightful house on the Trinita dei Monti. Deeming had come from Eng- land to take a long holiday, as his health had partially broken down from overwork. He was a very successful London doctor, devoted to his profession. Vernon was a rich man, passionately interested in the arts and in trav- el. How well I remember that first evening we spent together, that — I had almost written fatal evening ! We were dining in the restau- rant, and directly I had made my friends known to each other we went in and sat down at our table, which was in the middle of the room.
Deeming was a very thin man, nearly forty, clean shaven, with iron-grey thick hair, narrow clear-cut features, and a tremendously deci- sive mouth and chin, betokening power and resolution. His face was pale, and bore traces of his recent illness. In his long, rather col- ourless grey eyes, penetrating and usually calm, one could see the slightly anxious and irritable expression of a man whose nerves had been, and still were, overwrought. His hands were delicate, with thin fingers curving back- ward perceptibly at the tips. He leaned for- ward as he sat in his chair, glancing over the crowd of English, Americans, and foreigners who were busily eating and talking round us.
Vernon was tall and fair, younger than Deeming by some five or six years, with medi-
THE BLACK SPANIEL;
tative, almost gentle, and very kind brown eyes, a sensitive, though not handsome, face, with a clear boyish colour in it, a voice that was generally low unless he got much interested in the subject he was discussing, and an ex- tremely fascinating manner, whose fascina- tion sprang from his great courtesy, combined with a perfectly natural self-possession, as of a man who seldom thought about himself, and who was desirous of making things go easily and pleasantly for those with whom he was brought into contact.
I saw Deeming look at him steadily, rather as a doctor looks at a new patient, more than once as we drank our soup, and I knew that with his invariable acuteness he was taking stock of his new acquaintance. Vernon, on the other hand, showed at first no special in- terest in Deeming, did not regard him earnest- ly, but was gracefully agreeable to him as he was to everyone. He was far more what is generally called a man of the world than Deeming, whose devotion to, and great success in, his profession had kept him bound to the wheel of work in London, and had prevented him from having the opportunity of knowing the nations and mixing perpetually with so- ciety which Vernon had enjoyed.
At first we talked quietly, almost languidly, of Rome, of its changes and its tourists, of the influence of America upon its society, of its climate, of the differences between life in
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
England and life abroad, and so forth. It was not till the middle of dinner that anything occurred to wake us up into great animation. Then a stout, dark, and very vivacious little lady, with a commanding air, came into the restaurant followed by two men, and sat down at a table near us. She and her companions were obviously Italians, and almost directly she screwed up her eyes at Vernon and nodded to him. He returned her salute with em- pressement.
" Would you mind telling me who that lady is? " said Deeming.
" Margherita Terrascalchi," replied Ver- non.
"What — the famous authoress?" I said. " The writer of 'Pieta'?"
" Yes."
Deeming stared hard at the little lady, who was beginning to eat with extraordinary, al- most comical, gusto.
" I have read that book," he said. " In a translation."
"What do you think of it?" asked Ver- non.
" No doubt it is well done and calculated to move the ordinary reader."
" Only the ordinary reader? " said Vernon, with a slight upward movement of his eye- brows.
" I think it wrongheaded and sentimental," said Deeming, with more energy than he had
'SHE AND HER COMPANIONS WERE OBVIOUSLY ITALIANS.'
THE BLACK SPANIEL
yet shown. " She appears to wish to elevate the animals above humanity, to take them out of their proper place."
" What would you say is their proper place? "
4 They are in the world, in my opinion, to be the servants of humanity, to minister to our comfort, our pleasure, our necessities, to help to increase our knowledge and satisfy our ap- petites, to give us ease and to gain us money. Don't you think so? "
" No doubt many scientists, many sports- men, and most, if not all, butchers do."
I laughed.
" But you, Vernon," I said, " are neither sci- entist, sportsman, nor butcher, and Deeming asks you what you think."
Vernon was looking less tranquil, less gentle than usual at this moment. His face was lit up by a fire I had never seen burning in his eyes before.
" My sympathies march with Madame Ter- rascalchi's," he answered, " though perhaps she expresses them with a feminine enthusiasm that may seem to some almost hysterical, and is carried away by her passion of pity into an excess of animosity against men and women, who often err against the animal world more from lack of imagination than from any defi- nite bias towards cruelty."
' The question is, are we to be the servants of the animals or they to be our servants? "
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
Deeming said rather drily. " I notice that Madame Terrascalchi is eating something that looks remarkably like a veal cutlet at this very moment."
" Oh," said Vernon, with his pleasant smile. " I hold no brief for her. I believe her, in fact, to be very — shall I say human? But as to what you were saying. Is it wholly a matter of whether we are to be masters or slaves? Cannot we and the animals — we are not, of course, discussing dangerous wild beasts — be friends, or, let us say, could we not be friends, good and close friends, they serving us in their way, we serving them in ours? "
" How are we to serve the animals? " asked Deeming, still drily.
" By considering them far more than we generally do, by studying them, their natures, habits, desires, likes and dislikes far more closely, by encouraging their affection for us, and giving them more of ours."
" I think that would be a great waste of time."
" Deeming is a terribly busy man, Vernon," I said.
' I know my London well enough to know it," Vernon remarked politely. " Still, I think we might find time for that; even that we ought to find time for it. I am rather what you might call a ' crank ' on the subject of the animal world."
" I didn't know it," I said. 6
THE BLACK SPANIEL
" Oh, yes, I am."
The almost fierce light again shone in his eyes.
" I love all animals. Ouida speaks of their * mysterious lives,' spent side by side with ours, and comparatively little noticed, little sympa- thised with by us. I know that many animal- lovers would raise a cry of protest against this. ' Look,' they would say, ' how dogs are worshipped and petted, how horses are loved by their owners, how cats are stroked and fon- dled! ' and so forth. Yes, it is true. Out of the great world of the animals, we — those of us who are fond of animals — select a few who, we think, can minister to our pleasure, and we give them, or think we give them, a good time. But these pet animals who enjoy life are few in number compared with the many who are made to suffer by man; the dogs that are kept everlastingly tied up, or are half -starved, or are perpetually cuffed and kicked and beaten ; the cats that are abandoned to die when their thoughtless owners change home; the horses that are overdriven, tortured by tight bearing- reins, lashed with the whip, made to draw loads that are too heavy for them; the birds — let me include them — that are forced to spend their lives in tiny cages in dark places. To any real, observant lover of animals, even of the so-called pet animals — excluding the beasts of burden, donkeys, mules, oxen, and the beasts that form part of our food supply,
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
and the dumb creatures that are given over to the tender mercies of the sportsman : the hares that are coursed, the foxes and stags and deer that are hunted, the pigeons that are let out of traps (their eyes pierced to make them fly in a given direction) to be shot and are often left maimed to die, the sea-birds that the Cockney * wings ' and abandons to starve and rot, float- ing helpless on the waves of the sea, the pheas- ants that, wounded in a battue, are crushed one on the top of the other into bags to perish of suffocation; excluding all these — to any real and observant lover of animals the lack of sympathy, or the actual cruelty of man, is a perpetual source of disturbance, of anxiety, even of lively distress and misery."
I was quite amazed at the energy with which Vernon had spoken, at the vigour and force of his manner. He paused for a moment, then he added —
" My love of animals has given me very many horrible moments in my life, moments in which I confess that my heart has been turned to bitterness and I have longed to make men suffer as they were making animals suf- fer. Yes, I have longed to see the cursed Cockney sportsman drifting face to face with a lingering death upon the sea, the callous game-preserver wounded in one of his traps and alone in the darkness of night in the for- est, the careless hunter at bay with hounds rushing in upon him. But especially have I
8
THE BLACK SPANIEL
known the longing to turn one whom I have seen being cruel to a pet animal into that ani- mal, and to be his master for a little while. You know some hold that theory."
' What theory? " said Deeming.
:< That what we do is eventually done to us in another life ; for instance, that if a man has been brutal to an animal, at death his soul passes into a similar animal, which endures the fate he once meted out when he was a
man."
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Deeming. " You surely can't believe such unscientific nonsense! "
" I did not say I believed it, but I should not be sorry to."
He sipped his champagne. Then, more lightly, he said —
" I told you I was a bit of a crank. I am even hand-in-glove with Arthur Gernham."
At the mention of this name, Deeming moved, and I saw his eyes flash.
" The prominent anti-vivisectionist? " he said.
" Yes."
" And you share his views? "
" To a considerable extent, though I don't always approve of what he writes or of what he says."
"I'm glad of that. We doctors, you know, ab — well, we don't love that eager gentleman. If he had his way humanity would undoubt-
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
edly suffer far more in the future than it will. For I don't think his sentimentalities and wild exaggerations will ever gain over our legisla- tors to his views."
" Perhaps not. But I sometimes wonder whether anyone has the right, whether anyone was intended by the Creator to have the right, to avoid suffering at the cost of inflicting it, even to save life by causing death. However, the vivisection question is hardly a pleasant one for the dinner- table, eh ! "
There was a moment's silence. Then Deem- ing said —
" Of course you never shoot or hunt? "
" Never."
" I do," I said. " But I am not such a contemptible hypocrite as to deny that cru- elty, and often very gross cruelty, enters into sport."
Deeming slightly smiled.
"Do you keep any pets?" said Vernon to him, rather sharply.
" Yes. I have a dog at home, a black span- iel; and you?"
" No. For years I have kept no animals. I shall never keep one again."
" That surprises me. You would give them a remarkably good time, I feel sure."
" I have a reason."
"May I ask what it is?"
" Certainly. I once had a dog that I — that I cared about. She was out with me one day
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
in London and disappeared. I made every possible inquiry, offered a reward, went to the Dogs' Home, but I couldn't find her. Eventually, through an odd chain of circum- stances that I needn't trouble you with, I learnt her fate."
1 What was it? "I asked.
"She had been picked up by a dog-stealer and sold to the proprietor of an establishment called ' Lilac Hall,' near London."
" An establishment? " I said, struck by the tone in which he had uttered the words.
' Where a large number — stock, I'll say — of animals of all kinds, horses, cats, rabbits, guinea-pigs, dogs, was kept on hand for sci- entific purposes. My companion and friend died under the knife of the vivisector. What do you think of the food here? They've got a new chef"
" I — I — oh, it's very good, I think; it's ex- cellent."
Deeming seemed startled by the sudden change of topic, and when we went into the hall to smoke he tried to return to the discus- sion. But Vernon did not rise to the bait he threw out, and at last frankly said —
" You'd much better not get me on to the subject of animals. I am really a bore when I let myself loose, as I did at dinner. And I am quite sure you" — and he met Deeming's eyes — " don't agree with my views. Are you staying long in Rome? "
THE BLACK SPANIEL
:< Till I feel quite set up again and ready for work."
' Then 111 hope you'll come and see me."
He gave his card to Deeming, and soon after went away.
I felt sure he had asked Deeming to call in order to please me. My two friends, I feared, had not taken a fancy to each other. One curious thing struck me as I watched Vernon's tall figure going out through the doorway to the street. It was this — that I knew a side of Vernon's, and a side of Deeming's character that had been hitherto completely concealed from me. Each had elicited a frankness from the other that I, of whom they were fond, had not been able to bring forth.
Their two enmities — so I thought of it — had clashed together and struck out sparks of truth.
By the way, Vernon's last remark to me in the outer hall of the hotel, whither I had ac- companied him, leaving Deeming in the win- ter-garden, was this —
" I shouldn't care to be Deeming's black spaniel."
II
A DAY or two afterwards Deeming said to me, "I'm going to call on your friend Vernon this afternoon. When is he likely to be in? "
" He's generally at home between six and seven," I said. After a moment I added, ' You want to find him then? "
' Why — yes. He's a very agreeable fellow. Did you think I disliked him? "
" Disliked him — no, hardly that. But, somehow, I scarcely fancied you two were quite in sympathy the other night."
" Oh, you mean that animal- versus-human- being discussion. Now it is just because of that I want to meet him again."
' To win him over to your views? "
"Well, I confess that I should like to get him to see how harmful such a man as his friend Gernham is or may become to the world —of men understood. He's probably got all kinds of absurd notions as to how vivisection is carried on. I should like to have a quiet, reasonable talk with him."
" Go to-day, then, at six. You're almost sure to find him."
" I will."
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
And Deeming set his lips together with determination.
I was, I confess, a little curious as to the result of the interview. I heard something about it the same evening from Vernon, who sent round a note asking me to dine with him alone.
" Your friend Deeming has been here," he said, almost directly I was in the house.
" I know. Did you have a pleasant time ? "
" He's extremely intelligent — got a great deal of character, real force. That ruthless mouth and chin of his tell the truth."
At this moment the servant said that dinner was ready. We continued our conversation in the dining-room, which was hung with sacred pictures, gentle-eyed Madonnas — one by Lu- ini — Saints, an Agony in the Garden by an unnamed painter, the little children coming to Christ, the Magi offering their gifts, watched by calm-eyed beasts in a dim stable.
" Yes," I said. " Deeming is very deci-
sive."
:' To me there's something very strange in the thought that he is a healer."
"Why?"
"Well — do you mind my speaking frankly about a friend of yours ? "
" Not a bit."
" I shall startle you, perhaps. You know one reads sometimes in the papers of people who are afflicted with what is called the mania
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
to persecute. There was a trial of a woman not long ago — a Mrs. Denby."
" I know. But "
" And there have been various instances in distant Colonial possessions of France and Belgium — and, perhaps, of other countries — various instances of men placed practically in the position of tyrants who have indulged in orgies of persecution of natives."
" But, my dear Vernon, you surely don't mean that you think Deeming has the blood- lust because he believes good can come of vivi- section. Upon my word, if you don't take care, I shall begin to think you really are a crank."
" It isn't that. It isn't what the man says. I can quite understand that as a doctor he wishes by every means to advance the spread of medical knowledge. No, no; it's the man himself. Do you know him well? "
" I have seen a good deal of him in London. Not a great deal, because he's such a busy man. But I have often been with him."
" Often in his house? "
" More often at his club, and in my own house and at restaurants. Being a bachelor, when he entertains he nearly always does so at Claridge's, or the Savoy, or one of those places. But, of course, I have been in his house."
" Have you ever seen his dog, that black spaniel he spoke of ? "
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
" No, I can't remember that I have."
For a moment Vernon spoke of a certain dish that had just been brought in, a special plat for which his cook was famous. Then he said —
" That dog I spoke of the other night — the dog I lost — you remember? "
' Yes."
" She was a black spaniel."
His tone in saying this was so peculiar that I was misled and exclaimed : "But you told us the poor beast was killed in that house — in Lilac Hall!"
" So she was."
" I thought — really, by the way you spoke, you led me to imagine that perhaps you fan- cied Deeming had got possession of your dog."
" Oh, dear no! Whisper is dead, years ago. I seldom speak of her."
" I never heard you mention her till the other night."
" The other night I showed you a side of me that you had never suspected the existence of, didn't I?"
' You did indeed."
" Well, having broken through my reserve, I feel that I don't mind being frank with you."
His eyes began to shine as they had shone in the restaurant when he spoke of man's cruelty to animals.
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
" My dog was the greatest solace in my life," he said. " I am not a sentimental fool. There is nothing either sentimental or foolish in loving that which, with a whole heart and perfectly, loves you. And a dog's devotion really is one of the most perfect, one of the most touching, and one of the most complete sentiments that can be manifested by one liv- ing creature to another. Not to respond to it would be absolutely devilish. But one can't help oneself if one isn't made of stone. I won't bore you with a long account of Whis- per's devotion and fidelity. Why should I? It's enough to say that she loved me as much as a dog can love, and in a dog's way, with ab- solute unselfishness, with entire singlehearted- ness. I never felt lonely when she was with me, scarcely ever even dull. When I had been out without her, and, on my return, she met me at the door, almost hysterically eager to show her rapture, I — well, I was glad to be alive, and felt that life was worth while so long as I could evoke such a tempest of delight in any living creature. A faithful dog, believe me, is the best bulwark against the coming of cynicism. You can't be a cynic when a dog's cold nose is pushed into your hand, or a dog's paw is placed gently and solemnly upon your knee. When I lost Whisper, when I found out what had been her fate, I felt something that was more than grief " — he leaned over the table and laid his hand on my arm — " I felt
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hatred, burning hatred, against those who had snared and murdered her, against all who use animals cruelly for the purposes of men."
His face was transformed. I seemed to see before me a man whom I had never seen be- fore. This man, I felt, could be not only gen- tle, but vindictive, and would be quite capable of expressing himself not only in words, but also through actions.
" I can understand your bitterness," I said. " But does not this recalling of a painful event only stir up recollections that ? "
He interrupted me almost roughly.
" That doesn't matter at all. I want to tell you now. I prefer to."
" Go on, then," I said.
He took his hand from my arm, and con- tinued—
" The fate of my companion altered me. It either stirred from sleep, or actually woke into life, a fierceness that till then I had not known existed, or could exist, in me. It made me understand that, in certain circumstances and to certain people, I could be implacable, almost ferocious; that I could deny the sole right of Providence — you know the text : why quote it? — to administer that gorgeous justice we name vengeance; that I could stand up and exclaim, ' I will repay,' and repay with- out fear, without flinching, and even to the uttermost farthing. But that was not all it did to me. With this awakening, or this cre-
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ation of fierceness in me, there came a deepen- ing of pity, of tenderness for the slaves of man. Yet I was selfish, and I have remained selfish."
" How? " I asked, wondering.
" It was, and is, in my power to make at least some animals happy, as I had made my dead dog happy. I could not, and cannot, bring myself to do that. I feared and I fear too much to suffer again as I suffered when I lost Whisper, and when I learnt the truth about her end. That end has been a night- mare to me ever since. I cannot think of it even now without torture."
" My dear fellow," I said. " Don't dwell upon it. To do so is really morbid."
" I don't dwell upon it, as .a rule. Have I ever even mentioned this subject to you be- fore?"
" No, no. But "
' That man, your friend Deeming, has roused me up. I — I tell you that I hate — that it is almost unbearable to me to think of his having a dog — a black spaniel, like Whisper — in his power."
He said the last words with extraordinary vehemence.
" That was what you meant then!" I ex- claimed.
" When you mistook me just now? Yes, that!"
He relapsed into silence, but kept his still 19
THE BLACK SPANIEL
glowing eyes fixed upon me. I seemed to read in them that he had more to tell me, to see that there was some project, some intention of ac- tion, blazing in his mind.
" Look here, Vernon," I said, determined to be quite frank with him at whatever cost, "Deeming is a friend of mine."
" I know."
" That being so, I don't think you can ex- pect me to be ready to harbour foul suspicions of him without any reason for them being ad- duced. If he were to be suspicious of you, and told me so, I should speak to him as I speak to you now. What on earth has the man done or said to make you so violent — yes, my dear friend, that is the word — against him? "
He did not look angry at my energy, but, on the other hand, he did not look doubtful or disposed towards modification. He only said, " How well do you know Deeming ? "
" Not very intimately, but well enough to feel sure that he is a humane man. Patients of his have spoken to me of him, of his skill, his care, and devotion in the highest terms."
" I don't doubt it. I don't doubt that he is humane as a doctor. Anyone can see that he is devoted to his profession, and his profes- sion is to heal human suffering. Ambition alone would cause him to be humane — as a doctor."
' You said yourself you were a bit of a 20*
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crank. Aren't you ever afraid that your crankiness may lead you — now do forgive me ! — into something approaching malice ? "
I thought he might be angry, but he wasn't.
" My intuition — apart from anything else," he said — "my intuition tells me that Deeming is a cruel man."
" I don't believe it. Vivisection "
"I'm not thinking of that now. What I am thinking is that I should like to see Deem- ing's dog."
' That wouldn't be difficult, I imagine."
' You don't mean that she is with him here, in Rome?"
" Oh no. A dog in a hotel is apt to be a
nuisance."
" I don't agree with you."
' Well, well ; but you always come to Lon- don in the late summer. I suppose you'll do so this year? "
" Probably."
" Call on Deeming. He's a hospitable man, and if you entertain him here in Rome, he is sure to ask you out in London. There you can see for yourself whether his dog isn't properly treated, as I'll swear she is, and as happy as dog can be."
I spoke lightly, even with a deliberately jo- cose and chaffing air. He listened to me gravely.
" I will invite Deeming here," he said. " In-
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deed, I intended to in any case, as he is a friend of yours."
" Thank you."
" But you say he usually entertains in res- taurants when he is in London. I have no reason to think I shall ever set my foot inside his house."
The extreme gravity of his manner, the earnestness of the eyes that were fixed upon me, made me realise how strong was his strange desire, and therefore, how strong was his — as I thought then — absurd and unreason- able suspicion. I might have continued to laugh at it, and chaff him about it, but I did not. Something in his face and manner made me unable to do so, made me suddenly con- scious that, however much I laughed, I could never laugh him out of his curious, and surely morbid, anxiety to verify, or lull to rest, his fears. And I must confess — so easily are we influenced by certain convinced people whom we care for — that I, too, was becoming, at that moment, oddly interested in this matter of Deeming and his black spaniel. Why had I never seen the dog, never heard Deeming mention it till the other night?
" If Deeming doesn't invite you to his house," I said, changing my tone, " there's a very easy method of getting into it."
" What method? " said Vernon eagerly.
" Go to him as a patient."
I had scarcely said the words before I felt 22
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»
uncomfortable, almost traitorous. Here was I entering into something that was like a plot with one friend to get at a knowledge of another which that other had never volun- tarily tendered to me. I was angry with myself.
" Upon my word, Vernon," I exclaimed, " I'm ashamed of myself! Don't let us discuss this matter any longer. Deeming and you are both my friends, and I wish to act always fair- ly and squarely by you both."
;< What unfairness is there in enabling me to prove the folly and falseness of my suspi- cions? " he rejoined quickly.
"I know — I know; but — oh, the whole thing is really absurd. It is madness to think such things of a man with no evidence to go upon."
" How do you know that I have no evi- dence? "
" How can you have any? "
"Are a man's words no evidence? Is his face while he says them no evidence? "
" Did you talk about his dog when he was here this afternoon ? " I asked abruptly, moved by a sudden impression that he was keeping something from me.
"He wouldn't talk about her. I am quite certain of one thing."
' What is that? "
" That Deeming wishes now that he had never mentioned to us that he had a dog."
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I suppose I looked incredulous, for he add- ed, without giving me time to speak —
" When you see him again, try to turn the conversation upon the black spaniel, and see how he takes it. And now let us talk of some- thing else."
During the rest of the evening Deeming and his dog were not mentioned. Vernon re- sumed, almost like a garment, his old self, the self I had always known, cultured, gentle in manner, full of interest in every topic that lent itself to quiet discussion and amiable de- bate. The evil spirit — I thought of it as al- most that — had departed out of him, and when I got up to go I could hardly believe that I had ever been the recipient of his vehemence, or seen his eyes blazing with the light of scarce- ly controlled passion. He came with me to the hall-door and let me out into the quiet night.
" Good-bye," he said, pressing my hand.
" Good-bye," I answered.
I hesitated. Then I said —
" Doesn't this calm of the night embracing Rome make you — make you feel that in your suspicions of Deeming you have been unrea- sonable; that, after all, it is unlikely he should be what you have fancied him to be? "
In an instant all the calmness, all the gentle- ness went out of his face. But he only an- swered—
" When you get back to the hotel talk to 24
THE BLACK SPANIEL,
him about his black spaniel, and see how he takes it. Good-night."
Before I could say anything more he had drawn back into his house and shut the door quickly behind him.
25
Ill
As I walked back to the Grand Hotel I thought over Vernon's last words and the way in which he had said them. Should I obey his injunctions? I confessed to my- self with reluctance that my conversation with him that evening had made me suspicious of a friend. Yet I had Vernon's own word for it that he was a crank on the subject of ani- mals, and my recent experience of him almost forced me to the conclusion that in his nature, usually so gentle, there must be an odd strain of fanaticism. My mind was troubled, and I reached the hotel without coming to a deci- sion as to whether I would speak to Deeming about his dog or not. As I came into the outer hall I saw him through the glass door sitting alone in the winter garden, smoking, with a paper, which he was not reading, lying on his knee. He did not see me, and, for a moment, I watched him with a furtive curiosity of which I was secretly half -ashamed. Perhaps stirred by my gaze, he suddenly looked up, caught sight of me, smiled, and made a slight gesture, as if beckoning me to come in and have a talk. I took off my overcoat and joined him.
"I've just come from Vernon," I said, sit- ting down and lighting a cigar.
26
AS I WALKED BACK, I THOUGHT OVER VERNON'S LAST WORDS."
THE BLACK SPANIEL
"Ah!" said Deeming.
He uncrossed his legs, crossed them again, and added:
" He's got a beautiful house."
' Yes, one of the most beautiful in Rome. He wants you to dine with him one night, I believe. Probably he'll ask you in a day or two."
' Very good of him."
His voice was scarcely cordial.
" He's a curious fellow," he continued. " Easy in his manner, but difficult really to know, I fancy."
"If you dine with him you may find him less reserved," I said, rather perfunctorily.
" I don't suppose he'll ask me alone."
" Oh, I shouldn't wonder."
" I don't think he cares much about me," Deeming continued abruptly. " Do you? "
" My dear fellow, he hardly knows you," I exclaimed. ' You haven't been quarrelling over the animal world this afternoon, have you?"
And I laughed, but without much cordial- ity, I fear.
"Did he say we had?"
" Good heavens, no! But you differ on the dog question, and so "
Deeming frowned.
"The dog question!" he said. "Why on earth should you call it that?"
"Well, I mean that he's very sensitive since
THE BLACK SPANIEL
he lost his dog, and that perhaps makes him a little unreasonable at times, though I must say that till the other night when he dined here I never heard him mention the subject of ani- mals and their relation with man. And, by the way, you've been equally silent. Till the other night I never knew you possessed a dog."
"Is it such an important matter that I should go about proclaiming it? "
His tone was suddenly hard and impatient.
" No, of course not."
" I hate people who bother their friends about their pets. It's almost as bad as the women who are always talking about the mar- vellous beauty and genius of their squalling babies."
He set his lips together as if he never meant to open them again, and I saw a look as of acute nervous irritation in his eyes. It warned me not to persevere in the conversation, and made me vexed with myself for having given way to Vernon's desire.
"Let's have a nightcap," I said. "What do you think of doing to-morrow? What do you say to getting a carriage and driving over to lunch at Tivoli?"
He looked more easy.
" If it is fine I should enjoy it immensely," he said in a calmer voice.
And we talked of old gardens and the beau- ty of rushing water.
28
THE BLACK SPANIEL
We spent the following day together at Tivoli. When we came back towards evening, the hall-porter handed to Deeming a note. It was from Vernon, inviting him to dine two days later.
" You see how he hates you! " I said chafF- ingly when he told me. " Do you mean to go?"
"Oh, yes. Why not? "
He spoke lightly, holding the note open in his hand.
He did not go, however, and for this reason. On the morning of the day he was to dine with Vernon, he left Rome for England. An ur- gent summons from a patient, he told me, made it necessary for him to go to London without a moment's delay.
I remonstrated with him, but in vain.
" I've had quite enough rest," he said. " I'm all right. And this is an important matter. It means a very large sum of money."
" Health's more than money."
" Certainly, but I feel quite my own man again."
He did not look it, but I said no more.
I knew that argument would be useless. He sent a note to Vernon, and, when I bade him good-bye, begged me to express his regret at being obliged to cancel the dinner.
" But I hope some day he'll come to dine with me in London. Do tell him so," he said, as he stepped into the omnibus to go to
29
THE BLACK SPANIEL
the station. " I should like to meet him again."
Those were his last words. I repeated them to Vernon.
" I shall not forget that invitation, I assure you," he said quietly. "And I may be able to enjoy Deeming's hospitality sooner than he, perhaps, expects."
' Why? You're surely not going to Lon- don yet awhile? I thought you loved your June in Rome better than any other month of the year."
" But I've had so many Junes in Rome that I think I shall make a change. By the way, when will you be in London? "
" Oh, certainly by the last week in April."
" If I asked to travel back with you, would you object to my company? "
"My dear fellow! Of course I should be delighted."
' Let us consider it a bargain, then."
He spoke decisively, and shook me by the hand as if to clinch the bargain. Nor did he forget it.
The third week in April found us in Paris, and on the twenty-second of that month we stepped into the rapide at the Gare du Nord, bound for England.
We sat opposite to one another in the com- partment, with, at first, ramparts of London papers between us; but, as we drew near to Boulogne, first Vernon's rampart fell, and
30
THE BLACK SPANIEL
then mine. The thought of the nearness of England had got hold of us both. London ideas were taking possession of us, and, as the train rushed on towards the sea, we became restless, as if the roar of the great city were already in our ears.
" Do you know," I said, breaking our mu- tual silence, " that, familiar as I am with Lon- don, I can never return to it after an absence without a feeling of apprehension. It always seems to me that in its black and smoky arms it must hold some disaster which it is waiting to give to me."
"I've had that sensation, too," said Vernon. " Among the cities of the world London is the monster, not merely by right of size but by other, and more mysterious rights. It affects my imagination more than any of the Euro- pean capitals, but rather frightfully than agreeably. I feel that it is the city of adven- ture, but that every adventure there must have a fearsome ending."
" No doubt we are affected by its climate and its atmosphere."
" I dare say. Still, if anything very strange, very uncommon, should ever happen to me, I am quite sure that it will be in London."
I smiled.
" My experience," I said, " has been that in London I am perpetually expectant of gloomy and mysterious events, but that my life there is remarkably unromantic and commonplace."
31
THE BLACK SPANIEL
' You speak almost regretfully. Do you wish for gloomy and mysterious events in your life?"
" I suppose not. Yet there is a spirit hidden in one which does sigh plaintively for the strange."
" Perhaps this time it will be gratified."
Something in the tone of his voice moved me to say —
" Do you expect it to be gratified? "
"I! Why should I?"
" I don't know. Something in your voice made me fancy that you did."
He laughed.
" The London atmosphere is, perhaps, af- fecting me already," he said. " The London influence is taking hold of me. I told you it always stirred my imagination."
"At Boulogne-sur-mer! " I said, as the train ran into the station. " The monster's arms are longer than Goliath's! "
The stoppage of the train interrupted our conversation. We got out to stretch our legs for a moment, and as we did so I found myself wondering why Vernon, generally a very frank man, at any rate with me, should have met my plain question with an attempt at laughing subterfuge. It was a very slight matter, of course. In another man I should, perhaps, scarcely have noticed it. But it was not Vernon's way, and therefore it struck me. I felt that he wished to prevent me from get-
32
THE BLACK SPANIEL
ting at the truth of his mind at this moment. Usually, his desire certainly was that the truth of his mind should be known to me.
We travelled to Calais in silence. Then came the bustle of going aboard the steamer and fortifying ourselves against the painful attentions of a sharp north-easterly wind. When we were established in our deck-chairs, and closely wrapped in rugs, we glanced round to see whether we had any acquaint- ances among our fellow-passengers. The steamer was just casting off, and some, like ourselves, were already settled down for the voyage, while others were tramping up and down briskly, with an air of determination, as if bent upon making their blood circulate, and getting the maximum of benefit out of the crossing. Among the latter was an elder- ly man, with pepper-and-salt hair and a thin, aristocratic face.
" Hullo," I said, " there's Lord Elyn. I wonder where he's come from."
Turning in his walk, he was in front of us almost as I said the words, and, seeing me, stopped, and, bending down, shook my hand.
" Where do you hail from? " he asked.
" Paris," I answered. " I've been in Rome. And you? "
" Calais." ' You've been staying at Calais? "
" No. I'm here for my medicine. I live on the Channel at present, or nearly. My
33
THE BLACK SPANIEL
doctor, Peter Deeming — he'll be Sir Peter before long, I suppose — has prescribed the double voyage, from Dover and back, every day of the week for a month. I sleep at the Burlington and eat bceuf-a-la-mode at the Calais buffet every midday of my life just
now."
" Deeming's a friend of mine — of ours," I jsaid. " May I introduce Mr. Kersteven — Lord Elyn."
The two men bowed.
" It's a pity he doesn't take his own medi- cine," said Lord Elyn. " I've tried to persuade him, but in vain so far. However, I've got his promise to come down to-night — Saturday, you know — and stay till Monday, and make the voyage with me to-morrow. I expect to find him at the Burlington when I get back."
I saw a sharp look of eagerness come into Vernon's face.
"Is .Deeming looking ill, Lord Elyn?" he asked. " You say it is a pity he doesn't take the medicine he prescribes for you."
" I think him looking very ill — pale and worried and played out. He is too great a success and pays the penalty — works too hard, like most successful men. He ought to have prolonged his holiday in Rome. I can't imag- ine why he hurried back to town so unex- pectedly."
" Oh," I said, " I can explain that. He 34
THE BLACK SPANIEL
was summoned to town by an important pa- tient."
"Really!" said Lord Elyn. "I never heard of it."
He sounded slightly incredulous.
" I saw him almost directly he arrived," he added; "and when I inquired why he had shortened his trip to Italy, he merely told me that he was all right and had got sick of doing nothing."
"Well," I answered, "he left Rome at a moment's notice, and gave me the reason I told you."
" Oh! Well, then, of course, it was so. A pity for him — though not for us, eh? He's a wonderful doctor. No one like him. And now, if you'll excuse me, I must take exer- cise. I keep walking the whole time, by com- mand."
He nodded, and went off up the deck at a brisk pace.
" I'm sorry to hear that about Deeming," I said to Vernon.
" Yes. It's a pity he was called away from Rome."
His voice, too, sounded incredulous.
"Why d'you say it like that?" I asked. " You don't think he told us a lie? "
"Why put it so cruelly? He may have made an excuse. When one receives a boring dinner-invitation, one has sometimes a previ- ous engagement."
35
THE BLACK SPANIEL
"A dinner-invitation! Surely you don't
? "
' Well, he was to have dined with me the night of the day he left. But, of course, it may have been a pure coincidence."
Lord Elyn passed us again, and repassed.
" I say, Luttrell," Vernon added, " what do you say to one more night out of London? What do you say to a night at the Burling- ton? "
" At Dover? "
" Yes."
"But the luggage! It's all registered through."
"We've got our dressing-cases, and my man has a bag with my pyjamas. Evening dress doesn't matter for a night. I'm sure the Burlington will forgive us, especially if we engage a sitting-room."
" Oh, yes, that doesn't matter."
" What do you say, then? "
" I don't know that I mind, but — what's made you think of it all of a sudden? Have you taken a violent fancy to Lord Elyn? "
My voice was challenging. He only smiled quietly.
" A very violent fancy. I like obedient
men."
Lord Elyn passed once more with a serious, determined air. He did not look at us. He was intent on his medicine.
" You're joking."
36
THE BLACK SPANIEL
" So were you."
I laughed.
" Of course. You don't choose to tell me your reason for wishing to stop at Dover? "
" I think you've guessed it."
He unrolled the rug from his legs and got up.
"I'm going to take some medicine, too. Think over the Burlington and tell me pres- ently."
In a moment I saw him join Lord Elyn, and they walked up and down together, talk- ing busily.
Of course, I had " guessed it." He wanted to meet Deeming again, to meet him directly we landed in England. My previous suspicion — it had been almost more than a suspicion — was confirmed. I felt positive now that Ver- non had cut short his stay in Rome, given up his June there, in order to follow Deeming to London and try to see more of him. The obsession of the black spaniel — I called it that now in my mind for the first time — was still upon him, had been upon him ever since the night when I had made my two friends ac- quainted with each other in the winter garden of the Grand Hotel. And Deeming? Had he really invented an imaginary patient in order to have a good excuse for leaving Rome and so avoiding Vernon's dinner? If that were so, then I was assisting at a sort of man-hunt, in which two of my friends were pursued and
37
THE BLACK SPANIEL
pursuer. I began to feel as if I were going to be involved in something extraordinary. And yet how vague, how fantastic it all was! And my own position? I tried to review it. If I assisted Vernon in any way, could I be called — or rather, should I be, that was the only thing that mattered — disloyal to 'Deem- ing? I felt rather uncomfortable, and yet — and this was strange — rather excited. I thought of my conversation with Vernon about London. I had been absent from it for some time, yet already, and on the sea, I felt affected by its powerful and dreadful influ- ence, felt that curious sense of apprehension which I had mentioned to Vernon in the train. Suddenly I resolved to fall in with my friend's wish to stay the night at Dover. After all, what did it matter? He and Deeming would certainly meet in London. Why strive to postpone the meeting? It seemed to me — I was thinking somewhat absurdly, I acknowl- edge it — that it would be better, safer, that the encounter should take place at Dover, under the white cliffs, with the sea-wind coming in, perhaps, through open windows. London was mephitic, and turned one to gloomy and mor- bid imaginations. The sea-wind might blow away Vernon's extraordinary suspicions of Deeming, and lay to rest the obsession of the black spaniel.
Moved by this idea, when Vernon presently stopped before me with Lord Elyn, I said —
38
THE BLACK SPANIEL
" I give my vote for a night at the Bur- lington."
" Capital! " said Vernon. " I've been tell- ing Lord Elyn we thought of staying, and he is sure our tweeds and coloured ties will be for- given us."
39
IV
AT the Burlington in the hall we found Deeming. I saw him before he was aware of us, and was startled by the change in his face. There was the stamp of nervous ex- haustion upon it. The complexion was grey, the mouth was drawn, the eyes were anxious, almost feverish. When he turned and faced us fully he made an abrupt movement which was certainly not caused by pleasure, and I saw the fingers of his two hands clench them- selves violently in the palms. Then he recov- ered himself, came forward, and greeted us with self-possession.
" I never expected to see you in England so soon," he said to Vernon. " I thought you usually spent part of the summer in Rome."
" I often do. But this year something has called me to London."
" Oh. Well, all the better. We shall see something of you. I hope we shall bring off our dinner together in town. Only you must let me be the host."
" Thank you. I shall be delighted."
The note of cordiality was, I thought, forced by both men. Few more words were spoken, for it was getting late, and the hour of dinner was approaching. As we went up- stairs I said to Vernon —
40
THE BLACK SPANIEL
" Deeming does certainly want medicine of one sort or another. Don't you think he looks horribly ill? "
"He has a strung-up expression. I should say he's overworking. Did you notice how he started when he saw us? "
"Did he?" I answered, disingenuously I confess. " Naturally he was surprised. He had no idea we were in England."
" Exactly. Here are our rooms. 'Au re- voir at dinner."
The dinner I need not chronicle at length. It took place downstairs, although we had en- gaged the sitting-room to appease a manage- ment shocked at our lack of evening clothes. The talk ran easily enough, helped by Lord Elyn's unconsciousness of the obsession of the black spaniel, which sometimes seemed to me to be hovering about our table, creeping be- neath our chairs, a shadow importunate, ser- vile, yet menacing. I felt that the thoughts of Deeming and Vernon, interlacing and in- imical, were on this whining, whimpering, un- easy shadow, that had called the latter from his home in Italy, that had stopped him here by the grey sea. I knew it as if those thoughts were spread before me by my plate. And all the time we chatted, glancing from subject to subject without great earnestness, laughing lightly at the last London absurdity, or dis- cussing with apparent animation the chances of politics and the trend of art, I felt that our
41
THE BLACK SPANIEL
conversation was but a thin veil spread over a depth in which were other voices than ours, murmuring, in which the pale forms of future events glided, like spectres, to and fro.
Directly after dinner Lord Elyn excused himself.
" The eyes of the nurse are upon me," he said, jocosely. " I see them saying: ' Master Elyn, it's time for you to go to bed ! ' Eh, Deeming? "
" Quite right, Lord Elyn," answered Deem- ing, smiling.
' Well, good-night. You'd much better come too, Deeming."
" Oh, I couldn't sleep yet. I haven't been on the sea. I think I shall go out and take a breath of air on the front."
" Perhaps it may do you good. I feel full of sleep."
And he went off, leaving us in the hall. ' Will you come out? " asked Deeming.
The invitation seemed addressed to both of us. I expected Vernon to accept it with alac- rity, but, to my surprise, he took up the West- minster Gazette.
"I'm a bit tired," he answered. " I think I'll stay here."
" I'll come with you," I said.
" Right. I want a turn or two to summon slumber."
There was something almost pathetic in his voice. It moved me to ask, as we went down
42
THE BLACK SPANIEL
the steps, and along the row of houses to the sea-front —
" Have you been sleeping badly, then? "
" Pretty badly. I say, what's brought Ver- non over so soon? "
The question was sharply suspicious.
" He didn't tell me," I answered.
" Then you don't know? "
We turned to the left and walked along the parade towards the cliff. No one was about in the cold and gusty night. Now and then a light flashed out across the sea, swept it in a half circle, and vanished in the dark- ness.
" Oh, I'm not in all Vernon's secrets," I said.
Directly I had spoken I regretted my choice of words.
"Secrets!" he said.
" I only mean that Vernon's not specially given to making confidences. If he has any particular reason for coming to England at this time of year, he hasn't told it to me. But why should he have any special reason? "
Deeming shrugged his shoulders.
" Where is he going to stay in town? " he asked.
"At Claridge's, I believe; at any rate, for a time."
" Then he means to make a long stay? "
His voice still sounded intensely suspicious. Suddenly I felt as if I could not stand all this
43
THE BLACK SPANIEL
subterfuge, as if I must brush away from me the spider's web of mutual distrust in which my two friends were entangling me with each other.
"My dear fellow!" I exclaimed. 'You really make me feel as if I were under cross- examination. I begin to wish I had never in- troduced you and Vernon to each other."
Deeming stopped dead, and looked at me.
" Perhaps it would have been better," he said. " Much better."
" You think so, too? Why? "
" Can't you see that Vernon hates me? " he said, with violence.
" What earthly reason can he have for hat- ing you? "
" Some men don't ask for reasons. There is something about me which is antipathetic to Vernon, and he's a strange fellow. You think him gentle, I know. But I — well, I believe that underneath his apparent gentle- ness hides the soul of a fanatic, a black fa- natic."
We were still standing face to face. Now I looked into his eyes and said:
" I'm going to be very rude to you."
" Go on. I'll bear it.']
" I am perfectly certain you are suffering from nervous exhaustion. You have all the symptoms. You are horribly pale and shaky, and full of irritability and suspicion, ready to entertain any dark idea that may present
44
THE BLACK SPANIEL
itself to you, unable to see things in a clear light of reason."
" And you, Luttrell; do you know what you are?"
"I!"
" Yes. I'm going to be rude to you. You are either a self -deceiver or a — well, something one doesn't care to call a man. You know quite well, in your heart, that Vernon has come over so soon because — because—
Suddenly he hesitated, faltered, broke off.
I seemed to hear the whimper of a dog near us in the night.
" I've had enough of the wind," he said. " I'm going in."
And we went back to the hotel without an- other word.
Next morning, Vernon and I went up to town by an early train, leaving Lord Elyn and Deeming to take their Channel trip. At Charing Cross, as we were parting, Vernon to go to Claridge's and I to my flat in Albe- marle Street, Vernon said, " By the way, what is Deeming's address? "
' Three hundred, Wimpole Street," I said.
He took out a card and a pencil.
" Three hundred, Wimpole Street," he re- peated slowly, as he wrote it down. " Good- bye. Let's meet to-morrow. Come and lunch with me."
He got into a hansom and drove away. I followed in a moment. As my cab came out
45
THE BLACK SPANIEL
of the station yard and crossed Trafalgar Square I was enveloped in what I called to myself " the London feeling." The day was warm, but dull and grey. The tall buildings, the statue of Gordon, the Nelson column, the lions, looked sad and phantom-like to my eyes, for many months accustomed to the pellucid clearness of African landscapes, to the bril- liant blue of Italian skies. And the well- known depression which always settles down upon me like a fog when I first return to Lon- don came to me once more, bathing me in a gloom which I strove in vain to shake off. In this gloom I seemed to see, like shadows pass- ing in a fog, the forms of Vernon, of Deem- ing, and another form, small, black, and cring- ing, the form of a dog.
"P'f!" I said to myself. " Am I going to be the slave of a too sensitive imagina- tion? "
And I resolutely began to think of pleasant things, of the friends, of the amusements, of the occupations that would solace me. Yet, when I reached Albemarle Street, I was heavy-hearted, and all that day and the next my depression persisted. Even a cheerful lunch with Vernon at Claridge's and the re- newal of many old acquaintanceships failed to restore me to my normal temper.
A week passed by, and I had not seen Deeming. I was beginning to wonder what had become of him, when I received from him
46
THE BLACK SPANIEL
a note asking me to dine with him at the Carlton on the following evening to meet Vernon. I was, unfortunately, already en- gaged to dine with some American friends and go to the play; so I wrote to excuse myself, and added this postscript —
" May your dinner banish your mutual mis- understanding. Remember that it will always be a grief to me if my two friends are at cross- purposes."
The day after the dinner, when I had just come in from the club at seven o'clock in the evening, my servant announced " Doctor Deeming," and Deeming walked into the room. I saw at once that he was in a condi- tion of unusual excitement. We shook hands, and directly my man had gone out and the door was shut, Deeming, who was still stand- ing and who did not seem to see the chair I offered to him, exclaimed —
" Of course, you have heard about Number 301?"
"Number 301? What the deuce do you mean? " I asked.
" Number 301, Wimpole Street, the house next door to mine."
" What about it? Has it been burgled, or burnt down, or what? "
"Burnt down! Nonsense! It's been to let for the last three months. Yesterday morning I found the board was down, and last night Vernon told me that he has taken
47
THE BLACK SPANIEL
it. He's taken it as it is, furnished, and is going in at once."
I was surprised, and, I suppose, showed that I was in my face, for he continued —
"Oh, then you didn't know! He hadn't told you!"
" He has told me nothing."
" It's a strange business. I — I "
He began to walk to and fro.
' Why should lie come to live next door to me? Why should he ?"
He stopped in front of me.
" Did you tell him where I lived? " he said, almost menacingly.
I resented his tone.
" Look here, Deeming," I said, quietly. " If we are to continue friends, there must really be an end of all this mystery and suspi- cion about nothing. Why shouldn't I tell Vernon where you live? "
"Did you tell him?"
" Certainly. He asked me, and of course I answered. Are you a criminal hiding from justice, and is Vernon a detective? Upon my word—
I felt I was getting hot, and was silent. He stood quite still, staring at me for a moment with eyes that were almost fierce. Then he sat down on a sofa a little way from me, and said in a calmer voice —
" Yes, of course there was no reason. Still, it's very odd. You must see that,"
48
THE BLACK SPANIEL
"What is there odd in it? If it's a good house, why shouldn't Vernon take it as well as anyone else? "
" It's a fairly good house."
He moved, and leaned towards me.
" Originally," he said, speaking slowly, " originally it was one with mine. The two houses were thrown into one. That was when Renold, the author, lived there. Afterwards, it was as it is now. But it's still almost like one house. "4
"How can that be?"
' Well, the alteration was very flimsily car- ried out, I suppose; for in the one house one can — I hope to goodness Vernon isn't much of a musician."
' You're afraid of being disturbed? "
" If he plays the piano — by Jove! "
He burst into a laugh.
" Look out in the papers very soon," he said. " I shall probably be bringing a case against him for annoyance. I can't stand a hullabaloo next door after I've finished my day's work. I want rest and peace. It's no joke being a successful physician, I can tell you."
I laughed too, almost as unnaturally as he had.
" Oh," I said, " you needn't be afraid. Ver- non does play, but I'm sure, if you ask him, he'll put his piano against the wall of the other house, and keep the windows shut when he is
49
THE BLACK SPANIEL
Eractising. Why didn't you speak about it ist night? "
"I'll ask no favours of Vernon," he said sternly.
Then he got up.
"I thought I'd just tell you," he said. " Now I can't stop. I've got a patient to see."
He gave me a feverish hand, and went quickly out of the room.
While he was with me, I had endeavoured to make light of his news, to deceive him into the belief that I thought Vernon's action a chance one, but directly I was alone I felt, though less agitated, nearly as angry at this aif air as he did. It was a strange business — this pursuit. [Deeming had said to me at Dover that Vernon was a " black fanatic " ; what if it were so? What if my friend, so kind, so calm, even so unusually gentle in or- dinary life, well balanced and eminently sane in his outlook upon men and affairs, really had a " screw loose " — to use the current phrase? What if the fate of his dog had actu- ally affected his mind? I knew that there are men in the world who are sound on all subjects except one. Touch upon that subject, and they show an eccentricity that is akin to mad- ness. It might be so with Vernon. I began to feel as if it must be so, and a great restless- ness, a great uneasiness, beset me. Driven by it, I caught up my hat, hurried down- stairs, hailed a hansom, and went to Claridge's.
50
THE BLACK SPANIEL
The hall-porter informed me that Mr. Ker- steven was out.
" Do you happen to know where he has gone? " I asked.
" No, sir; he didn't leave any word."
My cab was waiting. I jumped into it again and called to the man —
" Go to 301, Wimpole Street."
My instinct told me that I should find Ver- non there.
Night was now falling. It was the hour when, to me, London presents its dreariest as- pect. The streets are not yet thronged with those who, having worked during the day, are beginning to seek their nocturnal pleasures. The just-lit lamps are waging a feeble com- bat with the last fading rays of the flickering twilight. There is a sense of something closing in, like a furtive enemy, upon the great' city. As I neared Wimpole Street I noticed that a fine rain was beginning to fall. The air was damp, without freshness, oppressive. In the gloom the cabman mistook the number and stopped at Deeming's door. I got out quick- ly, paid and dismissed him, and was about to move on to Number 301, when it seemed to me that I heard the shrill, short whine of a dog. It startled me, and I remained where I was, listening in the rain. The sound was not repeated. I looked down the dismal street, but I saw no animal. I had not been able to locate the noise. I glanced at Deeming's
51
THE BLACK SPANIEL
house. It was dark. Only from a window in the area shone a pale gleam of light. After two or three minutes' hesitation I moved away, ascended the step of Number 301, and pressed the electric-bell. There was no response. I pressed it again and kept my finger upon it for at least a minute. This time my sum- mons was answered, though in a rather un- orthodox fashion. A window on the first-floor was pushed up, and I saw a vague face look- ing out at me from above.
" Vernon," I said, " is it you? "
No voice replied, but the window was shut down, and almost directly, through some glass above the hall-door, I saw a bright light start up, and I heard a faint movement within. Then the door was opened and Ver- non stood before me. He looked greatly sur- prised.
" You? " he said. " How on earth did you know I was here? "
" I didn't know it. Can I come in? "
"Yes. Why not?"
But he still stood in the doorway, blocking up the entrance.
"You're alone?" he asked, rather suspi- ciously.
" Quite alone."
" Come in."
I stepped into a hideous passage, and he at once shut the door.
" Well? " he said.
52
THE BLACK SPANIEL
Not only his voice, but his attitude ques- tioned me.
" I went to Claridge's. They told me you were out, so I came on here on the chance that you might be looking over your new abode."
" So Deeming's been with you! "
6 Yes, he came in for a minute, and men- tioned casually that you had taken this house."
"Oh! he mentioned it casually, did he? Well, come and have a look at it, won't you? "
" If you don't mind."
He spoke with constraint, and so did I. In- deed, I had never before felt so uncomfortable with Vernon as I did at this moment. I did not know exactly what I had expected of him if I found him at the house; but it certainly was not this cold reserve, as of one who scarce- ly knew me, and to whom my appearance was unwelcome.
" It's not a bad house," he said, as we went towards the stairs. " It will do very well for me for the season."
" You're in luck, then."
The words faltered on my lips even while I strove to speak carelessly, for, in truth, knowing Vernon as I did, knowing his house in Rome, it was almost impossible not to ex- press my amazement at his choice — or, no, perhaps not that, for I could no longer be in any doubt as to why he had rented Number 301 — but it was almost impossible to keep up
53
THE BLACK SPANIEL
the ridiculous pretence, forced upon me by his words and manner, that I thought he had rented Number 301 because it had seemed to him a suitable London home.
A more dreadful house I have seldom seen. The stamp of bad taste, of pretentious middle- class vulgarity, was upon it, showing in every detail, in the colouring of walls, in the pat- terns of carpets, in the shapes of the furniture, in the tiles of the hearths, in the very balus- ters and fire-irons. The mirrors were painted with bulrushes, poppies, tulips. Cushions of brown and sulphur-coloured plush lay upon settees that imitated shells. Chocolate-hued portieres hung across double doors, upon which were views of Swiss lakes and Alpine heights. There were ceilings that represented the starry firmament, and there were floors that sug- gested the vegetable-monger's shop. In " cosy corners," thick with dusty draperies, nestled imitation beetles and frogs, among Japanese fans and squads of photographs of possibly well-known actresses, roofed in by open umbrellas of paper, from whose spokes hung gilded balls.
And there were yellow spotted palms in pots, wrapped, like a face distraught with toothache, in smothering cloths of bilious yel- low and of shrieking green.
" Not a bad house, is it? " said Vernon once more, when we had partially explored it. By the words, by his manner, I was made at once
54
THE BLACK SPANIEL
to realise that from this moment he intended to keep me out of his confidence. Why this was so I could only try to surmise. As to action, all I could do was to accept the situation and follow him in travesty with as good a grace as possible. It was evident that Vernon's sus- picions of my good faith had been aroused by my unexpected visit, following so immediately upon Deeming's announcement of the taking of the house, and that he had resolved to show me that he would not permit any criticism, even any discussion of his doings, however strange, however hostile to 'Deeming they must seem to me in the light of recent events.
" Not at all bad," I answered.
We were standing at the moment in the ter- rible double drawing-room. I carefully ab- stained from looking round. There was an instant of, to me, rather embarrassing silence. Then Vernon said —
' Well, shall we go out together? It's get- ting rather late. You hadn't anything special to say to me, I suppose? "
" No, nothing. I just called at the hotel, and thought, as you were out, I might find you examining your new abode."
Even as I spoke I involuntarily shuddered; I thought at the idea of Vernon living in this house, this inmost sanctuary of Philistin- ism.
" Why did you do that? " he said sharply.
"What?" '
55
THE BLACK SPANIEL
" Shiver like that. Did you — did you hear anything?"
His eyes searched mine; and once more I saw the fierce light in them.
"Hear? No. What should I hear? "
He did not answer; but continued to stare at me as if he doubted my words. Then he said abruptly:
" Let us be off, then."
We descended the stairs and let ourselves out into the darkness and the rain. As we passed Deeming's house I seemed once more to hear the shrill whimper of a dog. I won- dered if Vernon had heard it too, for he hesi- tated by the step of the door, almost as if he thought of mounting it, and glanced swiftly down to the area, from which still shone the ray of light. But he said nothing, and we walked on, and were soon in the bustle of Ox- ford Street.
56
AFTER seeing Vernon that evening in No. 301, Wimpole Street, I knew two things for certain. One was that he had taken the house in order to be next door to Deeming; the other, that whatever project he might have formed, whatever intention or desire was driving him on into a strange path, he did not mean me to know of it through him. I was to be shut out from his confidence.
This fact, while it irritated me, also relieved me. It rendered my position as the friend of both men more tenable than it could have been had Vernon confided in me. Now, if at any time Deeming were suspicious of me, I should be able to confront him with the complacency of a complete innocence, whereas hitherto I had more than once experienced the discom- fort of — I hope I may say it without offence —an honourable man who is forced by cir- cumstance to practise a mild deceit. This was a relief.
Nevertheless, I did feel both irritation and surprise at Vernon's attitude towards me. It seemed to throw a chill over our friendship. If he had never spoken to me of Deeming and his black spaniel, the matter would not have troubled me, but a confidence begun and then abruptly discontinued surely implies that one's
57
THE BLACK SPANIEL
friendship is doubted. I could no longer feel quite at ease when I was with Vernon. A dark and cringing shadow separated us.
Vernon moved into his dreadful house two days after I had first seen it. I naturally ex- pected that, being a rich man, he would im- mediately begin to tear down draperies, to get in new furniture, to lay down carpets that did not recall the vegetable-monger's, to turn out the frogs and the beetles, and to 'do away with the paper umbrellas. I was mistaken. He left things much as they were.
" I don't suppose I shall be here long," he said.
" I thought you had the house on a year's lease? " I rejoined.
" The owner wouldn't let it for a shorter time. But I don't expect to be here for twelve months, or anything like it. I may be out of it in a month. Who knows? "
He glanced at me as if he expected me to find some hidden meaning in his words, some meaning which he did not choose to put before me.
"I'm not even going to be bothered with a staff of servants," he continued. " I shall only have my man, Cragg, and one woman who can do all that is necessary for me."
" Really! What does Cragg think of it? " I ventured.
" Oh, Cragg has been with me for years and thoroughly understands me."
58
THE BLACK SPANIEL
I knew that; I knew, too, that Cragg was a rare being, a confidential servant who was ab- solutely faithful. But, still, Cragg was unac- customed to such a peculiar kind of " rough- ing it " as was now in prospect.
" I hope you'll be comfortable," I said, rath- er lamely.
" Oh, yes. Of course, I don't intend to en- tertain here. I shall imitate Deeming. I shall exercise all my hospitality in restaurants. The Englishman's house is more than ever his castle since the restaurant came into fashion."
And he laughed.
" But perhaps, now I'm next door, Deem- ing may ask me in sometimes in the evening," he said. " We ought to be neighbourly."
Something in his voice, as he said the last words, turned me cold. I felt quite sure, for the first time, that hatred was blazing in his heart, hatred against Deeming. Of course, I could not speak of my new certainty now that I was confronted by his reserve, but a sudden idea sprang up within my brain. There was one way, and one way only, of brushing aside this spider's-web of suspicion and in- trigue, which was being woven day by day, and it was this. If I could only ascertain for my- self, and prove to Vernon, that the mysterious black spaniel was happy as had been his " Whisper," well-cared- for, well-loved, these two men who were at secret enmity would doubtless at once be reconciled, and I should
59
THE BLACK SPANIEL
no longer have to endure the vexation of be- ing on uneasy terms with both. Vernon knew me well enough to know that if I made a sol- emn statement he could absolutely rely upon it. Deeming disliked him, as men generally and naturally dislike those who, without good reason, are suspicious of them. But though he was now cold and distant with me, I could not think that he disliked me. Where Vernon would probably fail, I might surely succeed. It was such a simple matter after all. I merely wanted to see a dog with his master, Deeming with his black spaniel. That could surely be managed without much difficulty and before many days had elapsed. I said nothing to Vernon of my project. Indeed, I resolved not to seek a meeting with him until I had ac- complished it. Our present intercourse was too restrained to be particularly agreeable. The London season was setting in and there was much to be got through. I could easily avoid Vernon for a few days and, when I had the news I wanted, go to him and put an end to a condition of things at once painful and— so I called it resolutely to myself — ridiculous.
Having made up my mind, I had only to act. I must see Deeming's black spaniel, and see him with his master.
I began my campaign by calling one even- ing at Deeming's house at an hour when I thought it probable that the last sufferer would have gone. But I had miscalculated
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
his popularity as a doctor. His extremely thin and sympathetic butler informed me in a whis- pering voice that the waiting-room was still thronged with anxious patients.
' When is he free? " I inquired.
" He is engaged all day, Sir, at this season of the year."
" Does he never get out for a breath of air? "
" Oh, yes, Sir, when he drives out to the hos- pital."
" And on a Sunday, I suppose. No doubt" — I tried to make my voice very natural and careless at this point— " he goes out on a Sunday if it's fine, to give the dog a run, eh?"
It seemed to me that the butler's pale face slightly twisted as I said the last words, as if he made a sudden effort not to show in it some expression which would have betrayed a feel- ing; as if he suppressed, perhaps, a smile, or concealed a knowing leer.
' The Doctor's generally shut up on a Sun- day, writing, Sir," he murmured, " or pursu- ing his researches."
"Oh!"
There seemed nothing more to be done just then, and as I saw a patient coming out and looking for his hat in the hall, I went away.
That evening I wrote to Deeming, telling him I had called to see if I could persuade him
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
to take a stroll, as I was sure his health needed some rest, air, and relaxation.
" Will you come for a walk in Regent's Park some Sunday morning? " I ended, re- gardless of the butler's information.
He answered, by return, that he would come, if I liked, on the following Sunday. I replied, fixing the hour, and saying I would call for him. This done, I went out and — bought a dog.
It was a gay fox-terrier, young, full of abounding life, and quite ready to attach it- self to anyone who was kind to it. When Sun- day arrived, it was already devoted to me, and gleefully accompanied me to Wimpole Street to fetch Deeming for the promised walk. While I rang the bell it squatted on the step, wagging its short tail, and looking eagerly ex- pectant. The butler opened the door.
" The Doctor is quite ready, Sir," he said, when he saw me. " Will you step in? "
Suddenly he caught sight of the dog, who had jumped up when the door was opened, and was evidently preparing for explora- tion.
" Is that your dog, Sir? "
" Yes," I said.
" I don't think the Doctor Get back,
you little beast!"
The last exclamation came in a voice so dif- ferent from the whispering one I was accus* tomed to that I could hardly believe it was the
62
"AS HE VANISHED, DEEMING APPEARED AT THE HALL DOOR.'
THE BLACK SPANIEL
butler who had spoken. At the same moment my dog dodged his outstretched foot and van- ished, pattering, into the house.
" Call him back, Sir; call him back, for the Lord's sake, or there'll be trouble ! " exclaimed the butler, turning sharply with the evident intention of trying to catch the little culprit. But he had no time to act nor I to call. Al- most as he spoke there came from within the house the piercing cry of a dog in pain, and the fox-terrier darted out of the hall, down the street, and disappeared, yelping shrilly as he went, with his ears set flat against his head, and his tail tucked down in his back. As he vanished, Deeming appeared at the hall-door.
" How dare you let stray dogs into my house? " he said to the butler in a savage voice.
" I beg pardon, Sir," stammered the butler; " but it was this gentleman's dog, and
" It was your dog, was it? " said Deeming, turning to me. " I did not know you had a dog."
I was feeling so angry that I could hardly trust myself to speak.
" Certainly it's mine," I said curtly. " I must go and find it."
And without another word I walked away down the street. I could not discover the dog. Its terror had evidently been so great that it had fled blindly and far. From that day to this I have never seen it or heard anything of it. When it rushed out of Deeming's house it
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
rushed out of my life. Having failed to find it, after walking some distance, I gave up the search and stood still. The natural thing, I suppose, would have been to retrace my steps to Wimpole Street, where Deeming was wait- ing for me. But this I did not do. I felt that I could not do it. An invincible re- pulsion against Deeming's society had come into my heart. When I thought of him I saw the fox-terrier fleeing, with his ears set back against his head; I heard the yelping of a dog.
I stood, therefore, for a moment, and then walked home to Albemarle Street.
I had bought the dog in order to find out, if possible, how Deeming was with animals, how they comported themselves towards him. Secondarily I had thought of using the dog as a pretext for introducing the subject of the black spaniel. I had meant, when Deeming came out, to point to my dog and suggest that, as I had mine with me for the walk, he should bring out his.
Well, my curiosity had surely been satisfied. I had not, it is true, seen the mysterious black spaniel; but I could hardly remain in doubt as to Deeming's attitude towards pet animals. The expression upon his face as he came out from the hall had been ferocious. Vernon was right. Deeming was a cruel man.
As I realised that, I began to wonder more 64
THE BLACK SPANIEL
about the black spaniel. Why should such a man keep a pet — a man, too, who was so in- cessantly occupied that he had no time for amusement, for almost any relaxations? And why had the butler — for I now felt sure that I had seen his face contorted for an instant on the evening when I had spoken to him of the black spaniel — why had the butler felt such amazement, or bitter contempt, or sardonic amusement, when I had alluded to the possi- bility of Deeming giving the black spaniel a run?
It almost began to seem to me just then as if the black spaniel were a baleful chimera, like the creation of a madman's brain, a noth- ingness that yet can govern, can terrify, can cause tragic events and lead to bitterness and crime. Who had ever seen this creature? Where was it, in what place of concealment? Did it ever come forth into the light of day? I longed to know something of it, of its exist- ence in that house, of its relations with its master.
Perhaps Vernon knew or would know. He lived next door. He had gone there to dis- cover; of that I was sure. He watched at his window to see the spaniel let out. He listened at his wall at night, perhaps, to hear its whin- ing.
Perhaps Vernon knew or would know.
And when he knew, would he tell me? . 65
THE BLACK SPANIEL
In the afternoon of that day I received a note from Deeming—
I waited for you to come back for an age. What was the matter? I am very sorry about your dog. The fact is I am not very well and in a nervous condition, and it startled me to come suddenly upon it in the dimly lighted hall. Let me know when we can meet.
P. D.
That was the note. I read it several times before I threw it into the waste-paper basket. But I did not answer it. I felt that I did not want to meet Deeming again for some time.
I felt that. Fate willed it that I should never look upon him again as mortal man. Within two days from that time I was called to the North of England by the serious illness of my dear mother, who lived in Cumberland. And there I remained until she died. Her death took place on the twenty-seventh of June. Her funeral was three days later. Af- ter it was over I returned to the house where I had been born, where I was now quite alone with the servants. I had to wind up many af- fairs, to put many things in order, to sort and examine papers and pay off some of the house- hold. Despite my grief I was obliged to be busy, to be practical. For several days I was so much occupied that I did not look at a news- paper. I even set aside the letters that came by the post — letters of condolence, I felt sure they were, most of them — wishing to read
66
THE BLACK SPANIEL
them and answer them all together when I had leisure, and felt less miserable and deserted, and more able to take an interest in such af- fairs as were not actually forced upon me.
At last one evening I had got through ev- erything. I had dined, and was sitting alone in the drawing-room, where my mother had al- ways sat, feeling really almost as if I dwelt in a world unpeopled, or peopled only by the spectres of those who once had lived, when a servant came in with the last post. There were no letters, only two or three papers from Lon- don. Without interest, merely to do some- thing, I tore the paper covering from one and unfolded it. My eyes fell at once upon the following paragraph —
As so many rumours have been put into circulation with regard to the lamented decease of Dr. Peter Deeming, which took place on the 30th of June, we are glad to be able to state authoritatively that the actual cause of death was blood-poisoning, which was, it seems, set up by the bite pf a dog. Doctor Deeming, like many other emi- nent medical men, while solicitous for the health of others, was singularly careless about his own. The bite was severe, but he took little heed of it, although he had the dog, which was a pet, destroyed. He has now paid the penalty of his regrettable carelessness, and society is the poorer. For no West End physician was more trusted and esteemed by his patients than Dr. Deeming.
The paper dropped from my hand. So Deeming and the black spaniel were dead! And each had destroyed the other!
67
PART II— THE RESURRECTION VI
PETER DEEMING died on the thirtieth of June, in the year 1900. In June of the following year, as I was walking past the Knightsbridge Barracks, I met Vernon strolling along in the sunshine, with a cigarette in his mouth. When he saw me, he stopped, took my hand, and clasped it warmly.
"Back at last! "he said.
1 Yes. I only arrived yesterday. Did you winter in Rome, as usual? "
" No. I've not been out of England."
"Good Heavens!" I exclaimed. "You don't mean to say you've been facing the Lon- don fogs while I've been in Africa and Sicily?"
He nodded. ' What can have been your reason? "
He put his arm through mine.
" Let's go into the Park," he said. " We'll take a stroll, and I'll tell you."
We turned into the Park by the nearest gate, and walked gently along under the trees. It was a strangely radiant day for London — a day that seemed full of hope and gaiety. Many children were about laughing, playing, calling to each other. Poor people basked in
68
THE BLACK SPANIEL
the sunshine, stretched upon the short grass. Carriages rolled by, drawn by fine horses. In the trees the birds were singing, as inno- cently as they sing in retired country places. And I felt glad and at ease. It was pleasant to be with Vernon once more, pleasant to be once more in my own land among my own people.
' Well, Vernon? " I said.
" First," he answered, " you must tell me something. You must tell me why you left England after the death of your mother, without coming to say good-bye to me."
" I felt upset, broken down, as if I didn't want to see anyone, as if I wanted to get away and be alone among new scenes and peo- ple who were strangers."
" That was it? "
I heard the doubt in his voice, and added—
" There was another reason, too, an under-
reason."
'Yes?"
" That sudden death of poor Deeming, com- ing just after my mother's, upset my nerves, I think. It made me feel as if — as if I had been cruel. It filled me with regret."
" Cruel! I don't understand."
" No. How could you? But when a man's dead, one thinks very differently about him often. And I had been suspicious of Deem- ing. At the end, indeed, I had been unfriend-
iy."
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
" I am quite in the dark," he said, rather coldly, I thought.
I explained to him what I meant. I told him of my last meeting with Deeming, of the incident of the fox-terrier, of Deeming's note to me, of how I had left it unanswered. He listened with a profound attention.
" When I read of his death in the paper I wished I had answered his note," I concluded. " I wished it more than I can tell you. And I regretted bitterly that the last weeks of our intercourse had been clouded by suspicion, by misunderstanding."
"Ah!"
His voice still sounded cold. After a mo- ment he said :
" And you didn't come to see me be- cause—
' Well, you had been mixed up with my sus- picion of Deeming, and
" Now I understand. You felt a very nat- ural longing to be away from all that recalled sadness to you, that might deepen your grief or serve to irritate your nerves."
" I suppose that was it. I went right away. I wanted to forget, to escape out of a dark cloud into a clear atmosphere. But you? Why have you been in London all this time? "
"I've been working."
"Working! You?"
" Even I— idler, dilettante.''
" Music? "
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
" I've been working with Arthur Gern- ham."
"For the animals?"
" Exactly. For our brothers and sisters who do not speak our language. I've been writing pamphlets, I've been gathering sub- scriptions, I've been stirring people up, and by doing so I've been stirring myself up, my slothful, sluggish, unpractical self."
"Wonderful!"
" Isn't it? Do you know that I've toured the United Kingdom giving lectures on the subject of man's duty to the animals, that I've helped to form a league of kindness? Luttrell, I'm a busy man now, and I am an enthusias- tic man."
While he spoke his animation had been growing, and as he ended his voice was full of energy.
" And when did the impulse come to you to begin this new life? " I asked.
" I can tell you the very day," he said. " It was on June the 30th of last year."
" June the 30th! " I said. " Why, that was the day that Deeming died! "
" Well, it was on that day."
I looked at him sharply. I had never yet heard any details connected with the accident that had brought about Deeming's illness and so caused his death. I wondered if Vernon knew any. He had lived next door. I longed to ask him, but something,
71
THE BLACK SPANIEL
some inner voice of my nature, advised me not to.
" Is Gernham a good fellow? " I said care- lessly.
" A splendid fellow. You must know him."
" As you have changed so much," I contin- ued, " have you altered that resolution of yours? "
"What resolution?"
" Never to make another animal happy as you made your spaniel, Whisper, happy? "
" Ah, that — no ! I could never have anoth- er pet. I suffered too much from my affec- tion, Luttrell. I am resolved not to suffer again in that way. The mountains may fall, but I shall never keep another dog."
He spoke with a decision that carried con- viction. At that moment I should have been ready to stake my entire fortune on his sticking to his assertion and backing it up by his acts. If anyone had come to me that night and said, " Your friend Vernon has just bought a dog and taken it home to live with him," I should have laughed, and answered in polite terms, " You're a liar." But one cannot deny the evidence of one's own eyes.
Now this is exactly what occurred.
While we walked along beneath the trees, not very far from the Statue of Achilles, I saw in the distance a man approaching us, lead- ing a number of dogs by strings and carrying
72
THAT DOG THERE,'' SAID VERNON; "HOW LONG HAVE YOU HAD HIM?"
THE BLACK SPANIEL
a couple of puppies under his arms. He wore a fur cap and earrings, a short, loud-pat- terned coat with tails, and a pair of very tight trousers. As he drew near I saw that among the dogs who accompanied him there was a fine black spaniel.
" Here comes a choice assortment of dumb friends," I said to Vernon.
" Yes."
I saw him looking at the dogs, which were sniffing the air, and pulling at their leads in the endeavour to investigate delicious smells. Suddenly he stopped short, just as the man was passing us. At the same moment I saw the black spaniel shrink back and cower down against the ground, pressing his broad, flap- ping ears against his head.
' What is it, Vernon? " I said.
He did not reply. He was staring at the spaniel. The owner of the dogs saw a possi- ble purchaser, and at once, in a soft and very disagreeable voice, began to enumerate their merits.
" H'sh! " Vernon hissed at him.
The man stopped in astonishment. 'That dog there," said Vernon, pointing to the black spaniel, which was still shrinking down, and pulling back from his lead in an ef- fort to get away. " How long have you had him? "
" Ever since he was baun, gen'leman," re-
73
THE BLACK SPANIEL
plied the man. " 'E's the gentlenist, the best- mannered dawg as hiver "
" How old is he? What's his age? "
" Just upon a year, Sir, a year Vll be this very selfsame month. 'E was one of as fine a litter o' pups as "
" You bred him? "
" Yes, Sir."
"A year old, is he?"
" Just upon, Sir. The thirtieth's the day, Sir — the thirtieth of this selfsame month. Law bless you, I knows the birthdays of hivery dawg as hiver "
' What's his price? "
The man licked his lips, and I saw a gleam in his small eyes.
" Well, Sir, I dunno as I'm dispoged to part with 'im. You see, I gets to love "
"How much?"
The tone was sharp. The words came al- most like a pistol-shot.
" Ten puns, Sir," said the man. " I should say, fifteen puns, Sir."
" I'll give you twelve."
" I reely couldn't tike it, Sir. The dawg's the very happle of "
" There's my address — 301, Wimpole Street." He gave the man his card. " Bring the dog there at six o'clock this evening, and you shall have twelve pounds, not a penny more. Good-day."
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
I'll be there, Sir. You can trust me, you
can-
We walked on. As we did so, the spaniel whimpered, ran to his master, and fawned about his legs as if demanding protection.
For several minutes neither Vernon nor I said a word. I was in amazement. What had just happened may seem to some a very small matter. To me it seemed extraordinary, mys- terious, even — I could not tell why — horrible. There had been something peculiar in Ver- non's attitude, in his face, while he stood look- ing at the spaniel, something fatal that had affected my nerves. Then my wonder was naturally great that such a man should thus abruptly go back from his word. And the spaniel's cringing attitude of terror when Vernon had gazed at him, had spoken to his master, was disagreeable to me, acutely dis- agreeable in the remembrance of it ! It seemed to me very strange and unnatural that such an ardent lover of animals as Vernon was should inspire an animal with fear. Animals have an instinct that always tells them who loves them. This spaniel was apparently without this in- stinct.
Perhaps it was this lack in him that made me now think of him with a faint dislike, even a faint disgust, such as the healthy-minded feel when brought into contact with anything unnatural.
I broke the silence first. 75
THE BLACK SPANIEL
" I did not know you were a changeable man," I said.
' You mean that I have changed my mind about keeping a dog."
' Yes, and with such extraordinary sudden-
ness."
" I suppose it does seem odd," he remarked. " But who knows what he will do? "
" But — what was your reason? "
He looked at me, very strangely, I thought.
" A sudden impulse," he answered. " A memory, perhaps, moved me."
" The memory of Whisper? "
" Of Whisper— of course."
His voice seemed to me just then as strange as his face. Perhaps seeing that I still won- dered, he added —
' That spaniel appeared to be nervous, terri- fied. Perhaps that man is cruel to it."
" Oh, but " I began, and stopped.
' What is it?"
" You didn't think — it seemed to me that it was you who inspired the dog with fear."
"I!" He laughed. " My dear fellow, a dog-lover like myself cannot inspire a dog with fear. You must be mistaken. Animals al- ways know who loves them."
" Yes. It's very strange," I murmured.
"What is strange?" he asked, in rather a hard voice.
" Oh, I don't know — nothing," I answered evasively. " Here we are at the gate."
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4 Yes. Well, you are coming to see me? "
" Of course. You are still in that house? "
" Oh, yes. It suits me. When will you come? "
' Whenever you like."
He stood for a moment, making patterns with his stick on the pavement and looking down. Then he glanced up at me.
" Come and have a cup of tea this after- noon at half -past five, will you? " he said.
I immediately thought of the man with the earrings and the fur cap. Then I was to see the transfer of the black spaniel.
" I'll come," I answered.
"Right!"
Vernon nodded and walked away slowly in the direction of Hamilton Place.
77
VII
AT a quarter past five that day I started for Wimpole Street, filled with a sensation of strong curiosity, for which, in mental de- bate with myself, I could not quite satisfac- torily account. It was a very ordinary mat- ter, surely, this selling and buying of a dog. Why, then, did it seem to me an affair of importance? I asked myself that question while I waited. The only answer I could find was that the dog was a black spaniel, and that before the sad death of my friend Deeming a black spaniel, the creature that had caused the tragedy, had mysteriously complicated, and indeed altered, my pleasant relations both with him and with Vernon. But all that was a year ago. The past does not return, and therefore it was absurd to be — to be — what? What was really the exact nature of the emotion that now beset me? Had I been strictly truthful with myself I should, perhaps, have called it appre- hension. But we are not always strictly truth- ful even with ourselves. I think that day I named it nervousness. I was nervous, out of sorts, a little bit depressed. Vernon's volte- face had surprised me. The dog's cringing fear had made an unpleasant impression upon me. And so, now, as I drew near to Wimpole
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Street I was slightly strung1 up. That was the long and short of it.
In some such fashion I think I spoke to my- self, explanatorily, falsely.
When I turned into Wimpole Street the image of poor Deeming was very present in my mind, and I could scarcely believe that he did not still inhabit the house to which I had come that Sunday morning. I wondered who lived there now, who was Vernon's neighbour; and when I reached the house I looked towards it with a sad curiosity, which quickly changed to surprise. The house was transformed. Where once had been a doorstep there was now an area railing. The front door had van- ished. In its place was a window, with a box in which roses and geraniums were blooming. In a moment I realised what had happened. Formerly the two houses — Nos. 300 and 301 — had been one house. Since I had been there they had once more been thrown together. Vernon, then, was living now in the house that had been -Deeming's. As I grasped this fact, Vernon appeared at a window of what had been the second house. Seeing me, he smiled and waved his hand. Before I could ring, the door was opened by Cragg, his faith- ful man.
" Glad to see you again, Sir," said Cragg, with a respectful bow which he had learnt, I think, in Italy.
He had several little foreign ways, but was 79
THE BLACK SPANIEL
extremely English in appearance — calm, solid, neat, and closely shaven.
I returned his greeting and stepped in.
" Ah," I said, looking round. " So it's all changed."
"Yes, Sir. After Doctor Deeming's death we got rid of the old stuff, and Mr. Kersteven bought the Doctor's house and threw the two houses into one. It's more suitable now."
" It was awful before." ' Well, Sir, it was scarcely to Mr. Ker- steven's taste. We rather roughed it for a time, Sir."
He took my hat and stick and showed me upstairs into a charming drawing-room, in which I at once recognised many beautiful things from Vernon's house in Rome. Here Vernon met me with an outstretched hand.
" By Jove, what a transformation ! " I ex- claimed.
" To be sure, you haven't seen it since—
" Since the frogs and the beetles and the Japanese umbrellas were turned out. No. And so now you've got Deeming's house too?"
" Yes. I have joined the two together, but I use his chiefly for my work in connection with our dumb friends."
"Oh!"
His voice was significant in that last sen- tence, and I realised that in him imagination was often the guide, leading him strangely, dominating him powerfully.
80
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Tea was ready, and we sat down.
Giving expression to my thought, I said, " Strange that you should be living in Deem- ing's house."
< Why so?"
" Oh, well, you were antagonists, weren't you?"
" Could the difference between us be called antagonism? " he asked, pouring out the tea.
* Wasn't it? Once Deeming told me that he knew—
I hesitated.
;'Knew what?"
' Knew that you hated him."
" Really. Did he say that? "
" Was it true? "
'Why discuss it?"
' You're right. It's all over now. And he, poor chap, has gone beyond the reach of earthly love or hate."
He made no rejoinder, and I had an odd feeling as if he were silent because I had said something with which he did not agree; yet that was not possible.
" Do you think," I said, to change the sub- ject, " do you think that fellow will come? "
' The dog-fancier? Oh, I suppose so. He won't let slip a chance of making twelve pounds. His dog isn't worth more than six."
* Then why do you give double? " " A caprice."
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
" I begin to think you are a capricious man," I said.
" The dilettante generally is."
He drew out his watch.
" It's close upon six. That chap ought to be here in a moment. Ah, there's the bell! He's come, no doubt."
I was conscious of a certain discomfort, but scarcely knew its cause. Putting down my cup, I sat listening intently. Vernon, too, was listening. There was in his face an expres- sion of strained attention. When the door opened gently, I started and looked hastily round.
"Lord Elyn!" said Vernon, getting up from his chair.
' Yes. Glad to find you at home. Hulloa, Luttrell! So you're back at last! I haven't seen you since the death of our poor friend Deeming."
He shook my hand.
' That was a sad business. No one to take his place. No one like him, is there? "
He sat down and stretched his legs. I said something suitable, but with rather an uncer- tain voice. This unexpected arrival irritated me. And yet I thoroughly liked Lord Elyn. Vernon, too — I felt sure of it — was vexed by his arrival, but he was charmingly courteous, though, in the trifling conversation that fol- lowed, he showed traces of absent-mindedness. I knew he was listening for the sound of the
8O a
THE BLACK SPANIEL
bell. I knew he was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the black spaniel. Six o'clock struck. The hand of a clock on the mantel- piece pointed to five minutes, then to ten min- utes past six. Vernon began to betray a cer- tain restlessness, a certain uneasiness. He twice changed his place in the room. Finally, he got up and remained standing.
' You are expecting someone? " said Lord Elyn, looking at him in some surprise.
' Yes. The fact is I've bought a dog — or named my price for one — and he ought to be brought here this evening."
" Oh, I'm very fond of dogs. Kept them all my life. What sort of animal is this one? "
"A black there's the bell!"
He broke off, went swiftly over to the win- dow and looked out. As he stood with his back turned to us I heard him utter a low exclamation.
" What did you say, Vernon? " I asked sharply.
I had not heard a word, but there was a thrilling sound in his voice which startled me. I got up also from my chair, possessed, gnawed by an inexplicable restlessness. Ver- non turned round from the window. I saw the strange light in his eyes which I had some- times noticed there when he talked about the animals and their relation with man.
" It's the spaniel," he said.
The words were simple enough, but the
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way in which he said them was not simple. It sounded cruel and triumphant.
Lord Elyn looked more surprised. He also got up.
' The arrival of this dog seems quite an event," he said.
' Yes, quite an event," repeated Vernon, looking towards the door. " It's years since I've had a — pet."
" If you please, Sir, there's a person here with a dog."
" I know. I expected him."
" Indeed, Sir. Am I to admit him? "
" Certainly."
" And the dog, Sir? Is he to come in too? "
" Of course. It's the dog I want, not the
man."
Cragg remained in the doorway, looking at his master.
'What is it, Cragg?" asked Vernon. " What the deuce is the matter? "
" Well, Sir, I don't see— I don't, really— how we are ever going to get that dog into the house."
"What do you mean? " said Vernon.
On his lips there was playing a slight smile.
" I never see an animal in such a state, Sir; I really never did. Hark, Sir! "
He lifted his hand. From below there came to us the sound of a long-drawn howling. Again I felt a cold chill go over me. Lord
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Elyn, too, was unpleasantly affected. Hd shook his shoulders, and said—
"Good God, what a dreadful noise! It sounds like something being tortured."
Vernon was still smiling.
" Oh! " he said; " it's only the natural ner- vousness of a dog brought to a strange house to change one master for another. Go along, Cragg. Show the man into my study. I'll come down in a moment."
Still looking very doubtful, Cragg disap- peared, shutting the door. We three remained silent for a moment. Then Vernon said —
"I'm afraid you're having a very fussy visit, Lord Elyn. Do sit down. I'll go and pay the man, and be back in a minute."
It was evident to me that he wanted — • wanted ungovernably — to see the dog brought into the house. As he stopped speaking he was gone. He had almost darted out of the room.
" Dear me I " said Lord Elyn. " Dear me."
He was a delicate, naturally nervous man, and highly sensitive. I could see plainly that he was upset, mystified by this affair of the arrival of the dog. He looked at me as if inquiring of me what it all meant.
" I wonder— ' he began.
Then he broke off. After a pause he said —
" If the dog often howls as he did just now, Vernon won't have much peace. I
85
THE BLACK SPANIEL
never in my life heard a more distressing noise, eh?"
" It was very distressing," I assented.
Lord Elyn did not sit down, but went to and fro in the room like one disturbed.
"A most distressing noise!" he repeated, uncomfortably. " Most distressing. It really almost sounded like a human being in agony, didn't it? "
" Yes, it did."
" What sort of dog is it? " he asked pres- ently, standing before me. " Do you know? "
" A black spaniel."
"A spaniel? They're the most sensitive breed of dog I know, intensely nervous and easily frightened, but very affectionate. They attach themselves in an extraordinary manner to those who are kind to them."
"Hulloa!" he exclaimed. The door had reopened, and Vernon came in.
" Well," he said, " it's all right. I've got the dog for twelve pounds."
' Where is it? " said Lord Elyn.
" Downstairs in my study. I've had to tie him up for the moment. Poor fellow, he's nervous at getting into a strange house."
" Let's have a look at him," said Lord Elyn.
I saw that Vernon hesitated, and thought he was going to refuse the request, natural though it was. But if he had intended to do so, he quickly changed his mind.
" Certainly," he said. " Come downstairs. 86
THE BLACK SPANIEL
My study is in the part of the house that once belonged to 'Deeming."
Lord Elyn went out of the room, I fol- lowed, and Vernon came last.
' To the right! " he said, when we reached the bottom of the staircase. " This corridor unites the two houses."
We followed the direction indicated.
" Here's the study," said Vernon. " It's a real workroom, dedicated to the cause of our dumb friends."
"The animals?" said Lord Elyn. "It seems to me, after this evening, that dumb is scarcely the appropriate adjective to apply to them."
Vernon laughed. He had his hand on the door of his study, and was still laughing as he 'opened it.
VIII
LORD ELYN went in first. I followed. The study was, as Vernon had said, a real work- room. There was little furniture in it, and what there was was plain and serviceable. Near the one window, which looked out at the back on to the backs of other houses, was a large writing-table covered with documents, pamphlets, magazines, address-books, gum- bottles, elastic bands, balls of string, a Rem- ington typewriter, piles of paper bands for fastening newspapers and manuscripts, etc. In the midst of this ordered rummage stood a cabinet photograph of a man. I did not examine it then, but I knew later that it was Arthur Gernham, the notorious anti-vivisec- tionist. A few chairs, a thick Turkey carpet, and two revolving bookcases completed the furniture. The walls were tinted a dull red, and there were red curtains at the window. There were no pictures or ornaments. On the mantelpiece stood a clock which struck the quarter after six as we came in.
" Where's the — oh, there he is! " said Lord Elyn.
The black spaniel was lying crouched upon the floor in a corner near the window, a dark
88
THE BLACK SPANIEL
patch against the red of the curtain which touched him. He had been tied by a piece of cord to the writing-table, but had shrunk back, as if in an effort to escape, until he could go no farther. Now he lay with his face turned towards the door, motionless, staring. When we saw him he did not move. He only looked at us.
He only looked at us, I have said. Then why did Lord Elyn stop short just inside the door, as if startled? Why did I feel an almost invincible desire to get out of this room, even out of this house of my friend? It must have been the violence of terror in the dog's eyes contrasted with the absolute stillness, the stillness as of death, of his body. Yes, I think it must have been that which affected us. For in violence there is always contained the sug- gestion of intense activity, the suggestion of movement, and the dog's eyes conveyed to me the feeling that his soul was rushing from us, while his body lay there before us against the red curtain like a carven thing.
"There he is!" Lord Elyn repeated in a low voice.
He looked at me and then at Vernon. I thought he was going out of the room, and I am sure he wanted to do so; but he stood where he was in silence and again looked to- wards the spaniel.
4 Well, what do you think of him? " asked Vernon.
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
The sound of his voice perhaps made Lord Elyn conscious that we were behaving some- what absurdly, that we were almost huddling together, he and I, beside the door. For he took a step — but only a step — forward, and answered, with an evident effort to speak more naturally :
" Oh, he looks a good specimen. He's well bred; I should say, well bred — yes."
Again he glanced at me as if questioning me. All this time the spaniel did not move, but lay staring at us with eyes full of horror. His stillness appalled me.
" And what do you think, Luttrell? " said Vernon.
It was with a difficulty that was extraor- dinary to me that I answered him.
" You'll have a lot of trouble with him," I said.
" Why? " said Vernon quickly.
" Why? Why, he's evidently a very ner- vous dog. I should think it'll take time to reconcile him with his new home and his new master."
" Good God! " said Lord Elyn.
As I finished speaking the dog had sud- denly howled again. Involuntarily I stepped back.
Vernon laughed once more.
" Why, anybody would think you were afraid of him," he said. " What's the mat- ter? "
90
••BBIBHH
"POOR 11KAST! POOR BEAST!"
THE BLACK SPANIEL
I tried to laugh too — to laugh at myself.
" He gave tongue so very unexpectedly," I said. " Poor fellow! Poor fellow! "
I was speaking to the dog, but I did not go towards him. The faint disgust with which he had already inspired me in the Park was stronger now that I was with him in a room. I was conscious of an almost invincible desire to go straight out of the house, to get into the open air, quickly, without delay. But with this feeling blended another, more subtle, one that surprised me by its force.
I longed, before I went, to untie that crouching dog, to let him escape from the room, the house, to set him free. With the disgust of him mingled a curious pity for him that was inexplicable to me then.
I think Lord Elyn shared my feelings, but he acted differently from me. For, whereas I now moved away to go, he suddenly, with determination, walked forward towards the spaniel. Seeing this, I stopped just outside the door in the corridor. From there I wit- nessed a sight that increased my sensation of pity, and at the same time deepened my sensa- tion of disgust.
Lord Elyn, when he was near the spaniel, bent down a little, snapping his fingers and saying, " Poor beast! poor beast! " whereupon the dog suddenly sprang up from the floor against his breast, in an obvious attempt to nestle into his arms as if for protection
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
against some danger. Lord Elyn, surprised, tried to hold him, but failed, and let him drop heavily to the floor.
Vernon interposed. Going forward quick- ly he said, "I'm awfully sorry, Lord Elyn. He's muddied you. Come out and Cragg shall brush it off."
The dog shrank back against the curtain.
" Oh, it doesn't matter," Lord Elyn began.
But Vernon took his arm and drew him with a sort of gentle inflexibility towards the door and into the corridor where I was standing.
" Cragg," Vernon called; "Cragg."
" Sir," said the man coming from the hall.
Vernon shut the door of the study sharply.
" Just get a brush, will you? The dog has put his dirty paws on Lord Elyn's coat."
"Certainly, Sir."
He turned on the electric light. Lord Elyn stood under it to be brushed. I noticed that his face looked very white, but thought it might be the effect of the light upon it. When Cragg had finished, Lord Elyn said—
" Good-night, Vernon," and walked hastily towards the hall door.
" May I come with you? " I said.
" Do."
I bade Vernon good-bye with a word and a hand-grasp, and in a moment Lord Elyn and I were out in the street.
"Ouf!" said Lord Elyn, blowing out his breath.
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
He stood still, looking towards that part of the house which had been Deeming's.
" By Jove! " he said, as if speaking to him- self.
Then, suddenly conscious that he was not alone, he exclaimed—
" Pray forgive me, Luttrell, but the fact is I — well, I don't know why, but that dog has made a very disagreeable impression on me, very disagreeable. D'you know, when he sprang upon me just now I felt a sensation— by Jove, it was a sensation of horror, of abject horror."
He walked on slowly.
" I noticed you were looking very pale in the hall," I said.
"Pale? I should think so! The whole business — I say, what did you think of it, eh?"
" How do you mean? " I asked evasively.
' What d'you think of the dog? "
:c Poor beast! It seemed very nervous."
" Nervous ! It was half -mad with terror. I never saw a dog in such a state before. And Vernon such a lover of animals, too! That's the strange part of it."
" You think it was Vernon it was afraid of?"
' To be sure. Didn't you see it spring upon me for protection, and directly he approached it shrank away like a thing demented? Now, I've been with animals all my life — brought
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
up among 'em — and never before have I seen an animal's instinct betray it. Animals know in a second the men that are fond of 'em and the men who hate 'em. But this dog's all at sea. It thinks Vernon's a regular devil — a dog- torturer. It's half-crazed with fear of him. That is as plain as a pikestaff. The thing's un- natural, Luttrell — it's d— — d unnatural!"
He spoke with a vehemence that showed how greatly his nerves were upset. I could not contradict, because I absolutely agreed with him.
"That dog," he added, "gives me the shudders."
"Poor wretch!" I said.
" You pity him too? " he asked.
' Yes. But when he gets to know Vernon it will be all right. Vernon has a positive passion for animals."
I strove to speak with conviction, for I was trying to convince myself.
" I know he has. And yet— — >"
He hesitated.
"What, LordElyn."
' Well, didn't it strike you that he looked at the dog very queerly? "
" Queerly? "
" Yes, not as if he had a great fancy for it."
I said nothing.
" What made him buy it? " said Lord Elyn.
"I've no idea," I answered. 94
THE BLACK SPANIEL
And indeed at that moment I was wonder- ing, wondering almost passionately.
" I'll swear he doesn't like the dog," said Lord Elyn, still with vehemence. " He may be as fond of animals as you like, but he isn't fond of this one."
" If he hadn't taken a liking to it why should he buy it? "
" That's more than I can say. It's a queer business. I had an idea that — that you per- haps, had some inkling what was up."
And again his look questioned me.
" I haven't indeed," I said.
And I spoke the truth. I was in the dark, in blackness.
A hansom passed us slowly at this moment. Lord Elyn hailed it.
" I must get home," he said. " I'm dining out. Shall I give you a lift? "
"No, thank you. I'll walk. I like the
exercise."
" Good-bye, then."
He stepped into the cab and drove off, while I walked slowly back to Albemarle Street.
Lord Elyn had made my thoughts clearer to me by his blunt expressions. He had asked me if I had any inkling of what was up, and, wrhen he said that, I knew quite certainly that, to use that slangy phrase, I thought something was up. Vernon had been moved by some strange impulse to buy the black spaniel, had
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
some strange purpose in connection with it. I felt sure of this. My instinct told me that it was so. What had caused this impulse? What was this purpose?
I wondered, but could not tell.
I reviewed Vernon's character as I knew it carefully, considered all that I had heard of him from others, trying to find a clue that would guide me to comprehension. But I re- mained perplexed. I knew good of him. I had always heard praise of him, except from one person, the man who was dead and in whose house he now lived. Deeming had said to me once that Vernon was a black fanatic; the phrase was strong, brutal even. It recurred to my mind as I walked, and stayed there. Then I thought of the terror in the spaniel's eyes as it lay motionless against the red curtain of the workroom. And I was troubled, I was strangely ill at ease. It seemed to me that in my friend, hidden away like a thing hidden in a cave, was something mysterious, something even terrible, and that the black spaniel was connected with it. But how could that be? Vernon loved all animals. He was at this very moment devoting his life to the advance- ment of their welfare. For them he had thrown off his long idleness of the lounging traveller, the luxurious art-lover, who wan- dered from country to country buying to please his whim. For them he stayed in Eng- land and lived laborious days. Why, then,
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
when I thought of the spaniel shut up in his study, should I be chilled with fear? I rea- soned with myself, but in vain. The sense of fear, of mystery, remained with me. It was deepened by an incident which occurred six days later.
During those days I had not seen Vernon; I had heard nothing of him or of the black spaniel.
The incident to which I alluded was my meeting for the first time with Arthur Gern- ham.
At a man's dinner, given by a famous throat-specialist renowned not only as a sur- geon but as a host, I found myself sitting op- posite to a very remarkable-looking man of about forty years of age. I had not been in- troduced to him, and had no idea who he was, but he at once attracted my attention by his air of fiery vitality and his unconventional at- tire. Instead of the ordinary evening dress, he wore a pair of black trousers, a loose silk shirt with a turned-down collar and very small black tie, and a double-breasted smoking-coat which concealed his waistcoat, if he had one. His powerful, sinewy wrists were unfettered by cuffs, and his powerful throat was free from the stiff linen ramparts over which the average Englishman faces the world in the evening. He was evidently a man who hated restraint. His face was pale, of the hatchet type, with a long hooked nose, the
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
bridge of which was unusually marked ; a large mouth, unsmiling but not unkind; a narrow, very high forehead, and gleaming hazel eyes. His head was sparsely covered with odd tufts of light-brown hair.
During dinner Gernham talked a great deal in a rasping voice. His conversation was in- teresting, for he wras not only intelligent, but obviously an enthusiast, and one who was en- tirely fearless of the opinion of others. I wondered much who he was, and as we were getting up from the table I found an oppor- tunity to ask my host.
"Arthur Gernham," he said. " Very down on us doctors, but an interesting fellow. In another age he'd have courted persecution for the faith that is in him. Let me introduce you."
And he did so.
Gernham shook me warmly by the hand.
" My dear colleague Kersteven has often spoken of you," he said. ' You sympathise with our efforts, don't you? "
He jerked his head upwards and looked at me keenly. I said something — I've forgotten what — and he continued abruptly —
" Come along. Let's have a good talk. Have a cigar."
He gave me a very large one, flung himself down in an armchair, and talked enthusias- tically of Vernon.
" I've been almost living in his house this 98
THE BLACK SPANIEL
last week," he said. " We're preparing a fresh campaign on behalf of the blessed beasts, our brothers. We've got together some statistics that'll startle the comfortable elbow-chair Englishmen, I can tell you. I'll never rest till I've roused the country to the horrors that are being perpetrated every day, every hour, every minute, upon the defenceless animals God has committed to us to be good to. And Vernon —what a splendid chap he is! What a col- league! All pity! The man's made of pity, made of tenderness. Ah, but you know that!"
"Yes!" I said.
I thought of the black spaniel. Here was an opportunity to find out how Vernon and his pet were getting on together.
" You've been in the house with Vernon a great deal lately? " I began.
" Every day and all day," he said, " this last week."
"How's that new pet of his?" I asked. " Reconciled and happy in his new home? "
"Pet?" said Gernham. 'Yes, the dog."
" He hasn't got ,one. Don't you know the hideous story? He once had a spaniel called "
" I know," I interrupted. " And he's got another."
" Not he! " rejoined Gernham, with sledge- hammer certainty. " He'll never have an-
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
other. I understand the poor chap's feelings. At the same time —
But here I interrupted again, and told Gernham the story of Vernon's acquisition of the spaniel. He heard me with an amazement he did not try to conceal.
"And you mean to say the dog's in the house now? " he cried, when I had finished.
" I suppose so, unless he's got rid of it al- ready."
Gernham sat quite still with his thin hands spread out on his knees staring at me hard.
" This is extraordinary," he said at last, with a sort of biting decision.
" You mean that he didn't mention the fact that he had a dog? "
" I mean more than that. I mean that he concealed it from me."
" Concealed it? "
" Certainly. I've got any amount of ani- mals— dogs, cats, the whole show — and I'm always urging Kersteven to set up a happy family. We preach kindness, he and I. We ought to practise it actively as much as we can. But his feelings about his dead dog have al- ways stood in the way. I'm perpetually try- ing to convert him to my view. I've been at it this week."
" And he said he hadn't a dog? "
" No. But he never said he had one. It's much the same thing under the circumstances.
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I should never have thought Kersteven could be deceitful. I don't like it. I— I hate it!"
At this moment we were interrupted. Two of the other men came up and we had no more private talk that evening. When I was going away Gernham said —
" Come and see me — will you? Here's my card."
He gave it to me, shook my hand, and as I turned to go said—
" You've spoilt my evening, I can tell you that."
I thought, " And you've spoilt mine," but I did not say it.
101
IX
I WENT home that night wondering whether Vernon had got rid of the black spaniel. Perhaps he had found it impossible to rec- oncile it to its new quarters, and had sold it or given it back to the man with the fur cap. Or perhaps it was still in the house. If that were so, it was very strange, very un- like Vernon to have concealed the fact from Arthur Gernham. But, in either case, he had been deceitful, deliberately deceitful, with a friend, and a friend whom he greatly admired and respected.
This incident of my meeting with Gernham deepened my sense of fear, of mystery. My instinct — I now felt sure of it — was right. Some strange under side of Vernon's character was active at this moment. I knew him only in part; much of him I did not know. A stranger now seemed to confront me in the night, a stranger by whose feet crouched some- thing black and terrified. What was this stranger's purpose? What could it be?
I reviewed carefully my whole acquaintance with Vernon, but especially the latter part of my acquaintance with him, when Deeming was in relation with us both. It was then, when
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Deeming came into his life, and only then, that Vernon had shown me for the first time a man in him whose presence I had not suspected, whose exact nature I did not know. This man was roused by Deeming. I should have let him sleep. But, having been roused, he had surely been sleepless ever since. Yes, that was so. Thus far, things were clear to me. Some- thing— the strange man in Vernon — had been wakeful, ardent ever since, was wakeful, ar- dent now. This man it was who worked shoul- der to shoulder with Gernham. This man it was who had bought the black spaniel.
So far, light. But now came the darkness. What had been Vernon's purpose in buying the black spaniel? When he saw it he had looked at it fatally. At that moment, while he looked at it, his purpose had sprung up full- grown in his mind, full-grown and fierce. I was not to know that purpose. Arthur Gern- ham was not to know it. He now had some purpose in connection with an animal that Ar- thur Gernham, his close friend and colleague, his leader in a campaign of kindness, of pity, to which he was dedicating all his activities and giving all his enthusiasm, was not to know or even suspect. That purpose, since it was in connection with an animal, must surely be one of kindness, of pity.
But here my instinct rebelled violently against my knowledge of Vernon. My in- stinct said that it was not so; that Vernon's
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purpose in buying the black spaniel had been sad, even perhaps terrible. Yet how could that be?
The dog's eyes haunted me. They seemed to me to know what I did not know, to know what Vernon's purpose was.
Deeming — again I thought of him, of Ver- non's short and strange connection with him. Once Vernon had said to me that he believed Deeming was a man haunted by a mania for persecution. He had spoken without knowl- edge then. Later, he had travelled to Eng- land to gain knowledge. He had taken the house in Wimpole Street to gain knowledge. Had he gained it? I did not know. Vernon had never told me. Was that why I was in the dark now? It began to seem to me that, perhaps, if I could find out what Vernon knew of Deeming I should understand something of his present purpose, of his purpose in buy- ing the black spaniel.
At this stage in my mental debate I reached the Piccadilly corner of Albemarle Street, and was just going to turn towards my house, when a familiar face, a face respectable, close- shaven, English, looked upon me in the lamp- light, and a bowler hat was deferentially lifted.
"Cragg!" I said.
" Good-night, Sir," said Cragg. " A fine night, Sir."
" Yes — wait a minute, Cragg." 104
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" Certainly, Sir."
Vernon's man stood still.
" Just walk with me to my door, will you? "
•' With pleasure, Sir."
We turned side by side into the comparative quiet of Albemarle Street.
" How is Mr. Kersteven, Cragg? "
"Well, Sir- The man slightly hesi-
tated. " Oh, Sir, he's in his usual health, I think."
" Working hard, isn't he? "
" Very hard, Sir."
" With Mr. Gernham."
' Yes, Sir, with Mr. Gernham."
"And — and how's the dog, Cragg?"
I looked at him as I spoke, arid saw his fore- head contract.
' The dog, Sir? — oh, the dog is getting on all right so far as I am aware."
" How do you mean — so far as you are aware? "
" Well, Sir, I don't see much of it. That's a fact."
"Really. How's that?"
I was pumping the man, I acknowledge it. I can make no excuse for it. I was driven by something that seemed to me then more than an ignoble curiosity.
' Well, Sir, Mr. Kersteven keeps the dog shut up mostly. I suppose he thinks that till it gets accustomed to the place and to us it's better."
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" But if it's always shut up, how can it get accustomed to you? "
' That's more than I can say, Sir."
I could see that the man was constrained, was not telling me something of which his mind was full. We had now reached my door, and I had no further excuse for keeping him with me.
" Well, Cragg," I said. " Good-night."
" Good-night, Sir."
" I hope the dog will settle down and be friendly with you."
"Friendly with me, Sir! That dog! The Lord forbid! " cried Cragg.
He seemed startled by the sound of his own lamentable exclamation, looked at me as if asking pardon, lifted his hat, and walked quickly away into the darkness. I stood star- ing after him. I longed to follow him, to ques- tion him, to find out what he meant. But how could I?
That night it was late before I went to sleep. The black spaniel seemed to be crouch- ing at the foot of the bed. I seemed to see its yellow eyes fixed upon me, trying to tell me what I longed to know.
Late in the afternoon of the next day I received a very unexpected visit from Arthur Gernham. When I saw him come into my room, dressed in a suit of homespun, with a flannel shirt and a red tie, and holding a soft brown wideawake in his hand, I jumped up
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from my chair eagerly. I guessed at once that he had something to say with reference to our conversation of the previous night.
"How are you?" he said, in his rasping, energetic voice. " I got your address from the Red Book."
He sat down and stretched out his long legs.
"I'm delighted to see you," I said. " You've been at work with Vernon? "
"I've been with him."
He ran one hand over his tufts of scanty hair.
" I'm disappointed in Kersteven," he said. " I never should have thought he was a shifty fellow."
The word shifty, applied to Vernon, roused my sense of friendship.
" Oh, you're mistaken," I exclaimed. "Ver- non's not a shifty man."
" I beg your pardon — he is."
I waited in silence for him to explain him- self. I saw plainly that he was going to. There was a sledge-hammer honesty about Gernham that was startling but rather re- freshing. He now proceeded to give me a specimen of it.
" I can't stomach a friend who isn't perfect- ly straight with me," he said; "and what's more, I'm bound to tell him so. I can't keep anything in. Whatever I feel I have to out with it. That's my nature. It's got me into
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plenty of trouble, and it will get me into plen- ty more. Fights were my lot at Eton, and fights have been my lot, more or less, ever since."
He unbuttoned one of the cuffs of his flan- nel shirt, pushed the flannel higher up his arm, and went on:
" With Kersteven I got on magnificently until to-day."
" Have you had a wordy fight with Vernon to-day, then? " I asked.
" I went straight to him this morning and told him I'd met you last night. He asked me how I liked you, and I told him, ' Very much.' Then I said, plump out, ' You've been tricky with me, Kersteven.' '
"Oh!" I exclaimed.
He took no notice of my interruption, and went on —
" 'You've let me make a fool of myself with you. That's nothing. One makes a fool of oneself most days one way or another.' ' What do you mean? ' he asked. ' That you've al- lowed me to think that you would never keep a dog or animal of any kind in your house, that you've sat here and listened to me trying to persuade you to keep one, while all the time there is — or was — one perhaps within a few feet of me. You've let me think what wasn't true, you've made me think what wasn't true. I don't know what your reason is, but I know that I hate your action, and that I
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never thought you were capable of doing such a low thing to a friend.' '
"Pretty strong," I said. "How did he take it?"
" That's the nastiest part of all. He took it lying down."
" Lying down? "
"Yes. Merely said the matter of the dog was such a trifle he hadn't thought it would interest me to know of it, that he wasn't sure of keeping it for any time, that he'd been so busy with me that — etc., etc. The lamest ex- cuses man ever offered to man. I was disgust- ed, and showed it. It's my way to show things —can't help doing it. ' Let's get to work,' he said, trying to change the subject. ' No,' I said. ' I can't work with you to-day. That's certain.' And I took up my hat and went."
" And you — you didn't see the dog? "
" Oh, dear no. But it wasn't that I cared about."
" I wish you had seen it. I wish you would see it."
I was speaking almost involuntarily, as if the words were forced from me, words scarce- ly prompted by any thought in me, words that were uttered for me.
" Why? " he asked. " Why? What do you mean? "
His face and manner were always alert, but now they had suddenly become intense with a sort of quivering vivacity.
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" What's wrong about the dog? "
:< I don't know that anything is wrong."
"Know! Do you suspect anything is wrong? "
I waited a minute. I was repeating to my- self Gernham's question.
" Yes," I said at last, " I do. But I don't know why I suspect, and I don't know what I suspect. That's the honest truth and vague enough. But I can't help it."
He looked me straight in the eyes for a full minute, I should think. Then he said —
" I want you to be less vague, Luttrell; and I think you can. A man doesn't say such a thing as you've said without more meaning than you've acknowledged."
" I assure you " I began.
But he stopped me.
" Now look here," he said. " One often has a thought behind one's thought, like a body be- hind its shadow. You've found the shadow; now look for the body, and I'll bet you'll find that too."
His words seemed to clear away some mystery from my mind, but I shrank from what was now revealed — the body behind the shadow.
" I see you know now what you suspect," he said, still looking into my eyes with intensity. " What is it? "
" I do know now," I answered. " But it's monstrous, and upon my word I'm ashamed to
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say it. For you must know that I've a great regard for Vernon."
" And so have — or had — I. His tenderness for the suffering of the animal world drew me to him. I can't forget that even now, after this beastly affair of the dog."
" His tenderness for the animal world," I repeated. " It's just that — just my knowl- edge of that, which makes my suspicion so monstrous."
" Let's have it, I must have it ! " he said. * You're no backbiter, you're an honest fellow. I can see that. Go ahead. I shan't mistake your motives."
There was a compelling frankness about him. I yielded to it.
" My suspicion is that perhaps Vernon is being cruel to that dog," I said.
Gerriham sat quite still. I saw that my words had deeply astonished him. But he did not burst forth, as many another man would have done, in a denial of the possibil- ity of my suspicion being roused by a horrid fact, being well founded. He was a very quick man, and full of finesse despite his bluntness.
"What are your reasons?" he said slowly.
" I can scarcely say I have any. Let me think, though."
After a minute I described to him minutely how Vernon had regarded the spaniel in the Park, the dog's fear there, its much greater
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terror on being brought into the house in Wimpole Street, Vernon's strange excitement on its arrival, and excitement in which there seemed to be an admixture of triumph, his laughter as he opened the door of the room in which the spaniel was confined; the dog's rush for safety to Lord Elyn, and shrinking away when Vernon approached it. When I had finished, I added —
" There's one thing more."
4 What is it?"
Then I related to him my meeting with Cragg on the previous night, and what the man had told me about Vernon's keeping the spaniel perpetually shut up.
" That's all," I ended. " Not much, is it? "
" D' you know," he said, " what's far the most striking fact in all that you've told me? "
"What? "I asked.
" The dog's horror of Kersteven. The rest may be nothing — fancy of yours or oddity of manner on Kersteven's part. But the dog's horror of Kersteven is very strange, and — un- less your suspicion is correct, which God for- bid— very unnatural."
" Unnatural — that's just what Lord Elyn called it."
"Ah!"
" And his trying to keep the fact of the dog being in the house from you. Isn't that very strange? "
"Certainly it is. But — by Jove! — the 112
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strangest thing of all would be that Kersteven should be cruel to an animal."
" Yes, that's true. I can't — no, I can't be- lieve it possible."
" What could be his motive? "
" I can't conceive."
" I know the man. He has a passion of pity in him for the sufferings of the animals, a real passion. Only one thing could account for his being cruel, deliberately and persistently cruel, to a dog."
" What?"
" If he were mad."
" Oh, that— impossible! "
" It would be the only thing," he repeated. " I know something of insanity. A chief fea- ture of it is this, that it often creates in a man the reverse of what he was before it took pos- session of him. Thus the kind, sane man be- comes the cruel madman ; the lively, mercurial sane man the bitter, melancholy madman — and so on. You take me? "
" Vernon isn't mad," I said with conviction.
" Then he isn't being cruel to his dog," he said with equal conviction.
" I can't understand it," I said dubiously. :< The whole thing's a mystery. Why should he buy the dog after swearing he would never have another? A whim, he said it was, a ca- price. But I don't believe that. No, there was some deeper, stranger reason. What could it be?"
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I was asking myself, not him.
Gernham got up to go.
" One thing I promise you," he said. " I'll set at rest your doubts in a very short time. I'll find out for certain that Kersteven is treat- ing that dog properly. I devote my life to our dumb friends, as you know. Well, they shan't find me wanting now, though a man who has been my chum and my colleague is concerned in this matter."
' What are you going to do? " ' To-morrow I ought to be working with 'Kersteven. After to-day I didn't mean to go, I didn't feel as if I could go. But now I will, and I'll see the spaniel and see him with Ker- steven. Never fear! "
He spoke with biting decision. I looked at him and felt that he would do what he said.
" Brush my suspicions away," I said, " and I'll be only too thankful. Good-bye."
He went off quickly.
When the door was shut behind him I thought how strange it was that Gernham's purpose in connection with Vernon was ex- actly the same as had been Vernon's in connec- tion with Deeming when he left Rome for London.
He had wanted to see a black spaniel with Deeming. Gernham wanted to see a black spaniel with him.
114
X
JUST before lunch the next day Gernham was announced.
" Good morning," he said, coming into the room close upon the heels of my man. " Can I lunch with you? "
" Certainly. Lunch for two, Bates." 'Yes, Sir."
The man went out and shut the door. Then I turned to Gernham.
1 You've been to Wimpole Street? " I asked.
" Yes. Do you remember I told you yester- day that Kersteven had taken my punishment lying down? "
" Of course I do."
' Well, since then he's thought it over, and got up."
' What do you mean? "
"Yesterday I declined to work with him. To-day, he's declined to work with me. He's refused me admittance to his house. See that!"
He put a note down on the table beside me. I took it and read as follows :
DEAR GERNHAM — I don't know whether you will come to-day ; but should you do so, I've told Cragg to give you this. I did not care to quarrel with a man in my own
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house ; and so yesterday, when you were impertinent to me, I did not appear to resent it. As you know, I ad- mire your character and respect your enthusiasm, and it has been a great pleasure to me to be associated with you in a work which I love with my whole heart and soul. But I allow no man to criticise my conduct as you have chosen to criticise it. I am sorry, therefore, that unless you feel inclined to apologise, I cannot admit you to my house. — Believe me, faithfully,
VERNON KERSTEVEN.
" What do you think of that, eh? " asked Gernham, when I finished reading the note. "Pretty blunt, isn't it?"
" Vernon has decidedly got up," I said.
I looked again at the note. ' Tell me just what you think," Gernham said.
' Well," I answered, with some hesitation, " it's an abrupt change of front after his be- haviour yesterday."
" Too abrupt," he said. " I don't like it; I don't like it at all. You were right, Luttrell; there is a mystery here — a mystery connected with that dog. But I haven't got your opinion yet!"
He was a persistent man, and did not read- ily lose sight of his object.
" You want to know how I explain Vernon's change of front."
" Exactly."
" It seems to me that he has thought things over since yesterday, and resolved to avail him-
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self of this pretext to keep you out of his house."
"That's it!" exclaimed Gernham. "I've given him his opportunity like a fool, and he's taken it, like a clever man. But where an animal is concerned I'm not so easily dished. A good many people who've appeared in the London police-courts know that."
" When you got this note, what did you do?"
" I tried to question Cragg."
"And the result?"
" Nil. Directly I mentioned the dog, he looked as grim as death, and became mono- syllabic. There's something up, and Cragg has an inkling of it. But he'll never tell it to me. You've got to go into this, Luttrell."
At this moment lunch was announced, and the rest of the conversation took place in the dining-room. Directly after lunch Gernham hurried away, leaving me pledged to act where he could not act, pledged to probe to the bot- tom, and without delay, the mystery of the black spaniel.
My relation with Vernon was now almost exactly similar to his former relation with Deeming, and Gernham was to be the inactive watcher, the waiter on events engineered by others, that I had formerly been. But there was a difference in this new situation which had followed so strangely upon the death of Deeming. Vernon had never been Deeming's
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friend. From the first moment when they met the two men had been instinctively hostile to one another. But I was Vernon's friend. I cared for him. Till now I had believed in him. This fact complicated matters painfully. And yet I did not hesitate, did not feel that in my understanding with Gernham I was being treacherous, disloyal.
For the eyes of the black spaniel haunted me, summoned me, seemed to force me to go on, to investigate this mystery. By them I was driven to do as I did. By them I was told that in my friend a new man, a stranger, had arisen, and that in attacking this stranger — if attack were necessary — I should not be false to my friendship with the man who had lived in Rome, the quiet lover of pictures, the gentle, idle, cultivated Vernon of the Trinita dei Monti.
Vernon was generally at home after six in the evening. I resolved to seek him at that hour on the same day, and carried my resolu- tion into effect. Cragg opened the door to me.
" Mr. Kersteven at home, Cragg? "
" Yes, Sir."
"Can I see him?"
" If you'll wait a moment, Sir, Til ask."
He paused, then added in explanation —
" I don't think Mr. Kersteven is very well to-day, Sir. Perhaps he may not wish to be disturbed, even by you. You'll excuse me, Sir."
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" Of course. Go and see. I'll stay here."
" Pray take a seat, Sir."
He placed a chair for me in the little hall, and went discreetly away up the stairs.
I sat down and waited.
The hall was quiet and dim. Somewhere a large clock was ticking. Now and then I heard a carriage roll by outside. As I sat there I fell into deep thought. Whdt was I going to do? I had come to the house without making any plan. I could not make any plan till I had seen Vernon. His demeanour, his action, must guide me. Would he see me? I thought it probable. There was evidently no one with him. Had there been, Cragg would have told me; and, if I saw him, should I find the black spaniel with him? I glanced round me. On the opposite side of the hall, close to where I was sitting, opened the short corridor, or pas- sage, which linked the two houses in one. I could see the darkness of what had been Deem- ing's house where the passage stretched away beyond the door of Vernon's workroom. Poor Deeming! Gone, with all his fine abilities, his energy, his persistence, his ambition — his cruelty, perhaps! Had he been cruel? Possi- bly Vernon knew. If he had, he was perhaps now being punished in that other mysterious world of which we know nothing, of which we seldom think in health, but which seems to loom near us when we are ill, or weary, or in trouble of mind — to loom as a great vault be-
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fore whose entrance we stand, gazing but see- ing naught. As I stared down the corridor into the dimness of the other house, the thought of Deeming haunted me, came to me vividly, till I almost fancied that something of him, some thrown-out essence of his personality, of his strong soul, still remained in the dwelling that had been his, still knew what went on there, still watched the coming and going of the man who governed where he had governed once.
I fancied, did I say? It was more than that. I felt as if he were near me, as if he were even intent upon me.
Then from the thought of him, and still with that sensation of his nearness, of his at- tention, upon me, my mind travelled to the black spaniel. His dog, that mysterious crea- ture never seen by me, had pattered in the dim- ness towards which I was gazing. And now, as Deeming's place was taken by Vernon, its place was taken by the black spaniel Vernon had first seen in the Park cowering down against the earth, its ears laid back, its body trembling, its eyes full of a message of voice- less fear. Perhaps it was close to me now, this successor of Deeming's pet or victim. Per- haps it was shut up in the room in which I had seen it lying against the red curtain. I could see the door of the room. It was shut. A few steps would bring me to it. I glanced towards the staircase. Cragg was not coming down.
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I got up. Again I had the sensation that Deeming was near me, was intent upon me, wanted something of me, and with this sensa- tion was mysteriously linked my consciousness of the nearness of the black spaniel, till — till the two sensations seemed to merge the one in- to the other, to become one, in some indefinable, fantastic way. I can hardly explain exactly what I felt at this moment, but my feeling was connected with Vernon's workroom. It was as if — as if I almost knew that, did I but take those few steps to the shut door, did I but open that door, I should find awaiting me within the room not only the black spaniel, but the dead man, Deeming, with it. It was as if — as
if
I moved across the hall, walking softly, reached the corridor, gained the door, stood by it, listening for the uneasy movement, for the whimper of a dog, for the stir, for the mur- mur of a dead man. But there was no sound within. There was no sound, and yet I felt positive that the spaniel was inside the room, separated from me only by a piece of wood. Once, twice, I put my fingers upon the handle of the door, yet refrained from turning it. I felt a strong desire to open the door, yet at the critical moment I was held back from doing so by an imperious reluctance which seemed to me to be physical, as if my body sickened and protested against what my mind told it to do.
THE BLACK SPANIEL
How long I stood thus uncertainly before the door I do not know. It seemed to me a very long time. At last — in the struggle be- tween mind and body, if it were that — the body conquered. I turned to move away with- out opening the door. I even took a step to- wards the hall. But I was arrested by a sound that startled me, that sent — I could not tell why — a chill through me.
I heard the scratching of a dog against the inside of the door.
I stood still, held my breath, and listened. The scratching was repeated, prolonged. It was gentle, surreptitious almost, yet insistent, a summons to me to return.
Again my body sickened. I was physically afflicted. Nausea seized me. But now my mind rose up and protested against the condi- tion, against the domination of my body, like a thing angry and ashamed. Suddenly I took a resolution. I would open the door without delay in answer to the appeal of the black spaniel. Swiftly I went back to the door, grasped the handle, turned it, pushed. The door resisted me. It was locked. As I real- ised this I heard from within the desolate whining of a dog imprisoned.
"Luttrell! Luttrell!"
Vernon's voice called to me from above, and at the same time I heard a footstep. Cragg was coming down. I moved swiftly back into the hall and met him. He glanced at me in-
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quiringly, looked down the passage, then at me again. His face for an instant was elo- quent with inquiry — with — was it sympathy? Then he was once more the discreet servant, saying in a formal voice —
"Please come up, Sir; Mr. Kersteven will be very glad to see you."
Vernon met me on the landing by the draw- ing-room door. I saw at once that he was not well. His face was very pale, and had a pe- culiar look, as if the skin were drawn upward towards the wrinkled forehead, which I had sometimes noticed in people suffering from prolonged insomnia. It gave a horribly strained appearance to his countenance, in which the eyes looked unnaturally eager and full of curious observation.
"Were you in the hall? " he said, taking my hand for the fraction of an instant, and then dropping it as if with relief.
" I waited in the hall," I replied evasively.
" You were there then while Cragg was up here?"
" He asked me to wait there," I said. " While he went to see if you were well enough to receive me. I'm sorry to hear you're seedy."
" Oh, it's of no consequence. Come in."
We went into the drawing-room.
" What's been the matter? " I asked, as we sat down.
" Oh, I don't know. I've been overworking, I suppose."
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" With Gernham? " I said.
" Gernham! " —he looked at me narrowly. " You — have you seen Gernham to-day? "
" Yes."
" Oh."
He sat silent for a moment. I could see that he was hesitating whether to tell me about his breach with Gernham or not.
"How d'you like Gernham?" he said at length. "He likes you. He told me so."
" I know him very slightly, but one can't help respecting such a genuine fellow," I re- plied.
" Genuine — yes, he's that."
" If he undertook a thing, nothing would stop him from going through with it."
"You think so?"
He slightly smiled.
" But suppose he were to encounter an op- position as thorough as his own attack? What then? "
I knew at once that he was thinking of Gernham and himself.
" Then," I said, " there would be a battle royal."
"A battle royal, would there? Yes, no doubt."
With the last words his interest seemed to fail suddenly. He slightly drooped his head, and sat like one listening for some distant sound. I watched him closely. Gernham's declaration that if Vernon were maltreating
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the spaniel he must be mentally diseased was present in my mind. I was looking for symp- toms that would guide me to a conclusion one way or the other. I saw a great change in Vernon — a painful change. He looked like a man suffering under some terrible distress, which had altered, for the time, his whole outlook upon life. But I felt that I was with a perfectly sane man. As I regarded him he seemed to recover his consciousness of my presence, glanced up, and met my scrutiny.
" What is it? " he said. " Why do you look at me like that?"
I felt embarrassed.
' What's Gernham been saying to you? " he added sharply.
" Gernham — oh, you know him," I an- swered. ' You know where his heart is, with the animals. What an enthusiast he is! "
" He's been talking to you about his work then. Well, did he tell you that we've had a quarrel, he and I? "
"He said your work together had come to a stop, for the moment. Why should it? "
'Why? Oh, well, sometimes Gernham is too blunt, says more than he, than any man ought to say to another. There is a limit to frankness; occasionally he oversteps it. He overstepped it with me, and I resented it. Don't you think I was right? "
I felt that he was being strangely insincere 125
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with me as he had been insincere with Gern- ham, trying to raise a cloud which would ob- scure the reality of his mind, the true scope of his intentions.
" I see no reason why two such men as you should quarrel," I answered. " Especially if it interrupts, and perhaps, to some extent, cripples a splendid work. You should sink your little differences, and go on together, hand in hand, to further the noble cause you love."
He had been trying to play me. I was now trying to play him. Yet, as I finished, a gen- uine warmth came, I think, into my voice. It moved him. I could see that, for he looked up at me as if demanding my sympathy. Sud- denly I felt a profound pity for him, a pro- found desire to help him. But how? Against what?
" Perhaps we shall be friends again," he said. " But he misunderstands me, and you, Luttrell, perhaps you misunderstand me too."
"I!"
" Yes — you. Are you sure that, in these last days, you have never had any cruel sus- picions of me? Are you sure you have not any cruel suspicions of me now? "
" If I had, if I have, you could easily clear them up," I answered. " By the way, how's the dog getting on? All right? "
His face changed at once, hardened.
"Oh, yes! "he said.
126
THE BLACK SPANIEL
" I should like to have another look at him," I said. "Where is he?"
" He's downstairs in the study. Didn't you know it?"
" I — I did think I heard something scratch- ing and whining. Why do you keep him shut up?"
" He hasn't got accustomed to being with me yet. If I let him out he might bolt."
"Oh!"
" I don't wrant to have spent my twelve pounds for nothing," he added.
His face had hardened. Now his voice was hard too — hard and fatal.
" May I have a look at him? " I said.
The sense of mystery was returning upon me. I tried to combat it by speaking bluntly, expressing my desire plainly. At least, I would no longer deal in subterfuge. Instead of answering my question he said, throwing a curious, wavering glance upon me, " Are you engaged to-night? "
I was, but I said at once, "I'm entirely at your service, Vernon."
" Dine with me, then."
"Here?"
" Yes, here."
" Certainly."
" That's right. And now let's have some music. I've got a new piano since last year."
We spent the next hour with Richard Strauss and Saint- Saens.
127
XI
NIGHT had closed in. Vernon and I were seated opposite to one another at the oval dining-table. Cragg waited upon us. Now and then, as he moved softly to and fro, I glanced at him, and I thought I detected in his well-trained face a flicker of anxiety as his eyes rested upon his master, a flicker of appeal as they rested upon me. It seemed to me at such times that he wanted me to do something to help Vernon, that he was longing to have a word with me alone.
The dinner was excellent, but Vernon ate scarcely anything. He talked, however, a good deal, though hardly with his usual nerve and relish. When dessert was on the table, he said —
" Bring us our coffee here, Cragg; at least, one black coffee."
" Yes, Sir."
" I won't take it," Vernon said to me. " I've been sleeping wretchedly lately. Morphia would be more the thing for me than coffee."
" I knew you had been suffering from in-
somnia."
He laughed drearily.
" I don't look up to much, do I?
128
THE BLACK SPANIEL
Cragg brought my coffee and cigars.
"You can leave us now, Cragg; go and have your supper; go downstairs."
The man looked slightly surprised, but said nothing and went away.
When he had gone Vernon lit a cigar, puffed out some rings of smoke, watched them curling up towards the ceiling, then said —
" You wanted to have a look at the spaniel, didn't you? "
" Yes," I said.
c Well, if I bring him in, be careful with him, will you? "
" Careful with him! Why? Is he danger- ous?"
" I don't say that. But he's got an odd tem- per. I keep him muzzled."
' In the house?"
( Yes, always. I don't want to be bitten. You remember how Deeming died? Well, I don't want to die like that."
His mention of Deeming gave me an oppor- tunity of which I at once availed myself.
" That was a sad business," I said. " Did you see much of him before he died, as you were living next door? "
" Oh," he interrupted, " Deeming was not a friendly neighbour. Do you know that I took your advice? "
"What advice?"
" To get into his house as a patient."
"You really did that!" 129
THE BLACK SPANIEL
* Yes. One morning, as he never invited me in as a friend, I went in as a patient."
" How did he take it? "
* Well, he could hardly decline to treat me. It happened that I was really unwell at the time, so I had a good excuse."
" And — and — your strange suspicions" — I was almost stammering, conscious, painfully conscious of my own — "your strange suspi- cions— did you ever find out whether they were justified? "
" They were justified, fully justified. But the dog took its own part in the end and killed its persecutor."
I felt a sensation of horror take hold upon me.
" Do you really mean that Deeming was treating his spaniel cruelly? " I asked.
"I do. He had the mania for persecution that I suspected. He was venting it upon his dog. The servants had some inkling of the truth, especially his butler. He knew, I be- lieve, all that was going on. But — he was well paid, very well paid."
I remembered my Sunday morning call, and the butler's exclamation when the fox-terrier ran into the house.
" This is horrible, Vernon," I said. " Are you sure of what you say? "
" Quite sure. I heard — well, I Heard things at night, and at last I saw the dog."
" How? "
130
"WHILE I WAS THERE DEEMING CAME BACK UNEXPECTEDLY."
THE BLACK SPANIEL
" I got into the house when Deeming was out. I bribed his butler, paid him more than Deeming did, I suppose. Anyhow, I got in. I think the man was sympathetic; was anxious really that an end should be put to the disgust- ing business. I burst open the door of the room in which the spaniel was confined, and then I saw — no matter what. It was quite enough. While I was there Deeming came back unexpectedly."
"Good God!" I exclaimed. "What a ghastly situation! "
" It was not exactly pleasant. I saw the man's soul naked that night — stark naked. It was on that occasion the dog bit him."
"Ouf!"Isaid.
Again nausea seized me.
Vernon looked at me steadily.
" Don't you think Deeming deserved any- thing he got? " he asked. " Anything he could ever get? "
" But he was mad — he must have been mad I "
" I suppose that sort of thing is what might be called a form of madness. Unfortunately a good many sane people have it — people as sane as you or I in all other respects."
When he said the words "or I" a flush, I think, came to my cheek. It seemed to me that he spoke with significance — as if he knew what Gernham and I had spoken of the day before.
" As sane as you or I," he repeated. " This work I've been doing with Gernham has
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
opened my eyes to a good deal in human na- ture that they were shut to before. I once said to you in Rome, to you and Deeming, that man's cruelty sprang often from a lack of imagination. Sometimes it springs from just the opposite, from a diseased imagination that lusts for gratification in ways we won't discuss."
" But Deeming — that he should be such a man, he whose profession it was to make whole!"
' Yes, that made the thing more strange and, to him, more enticing."
" Enticing! " I exclaimed.
My voice was full of the bitterness of dis- gust mingled with incredulity that I was feel- ing.
" Just that," he said. " He healed, as it were, with one hand, and destroyed with the other. Deeming was one of the human devils who have an insatiable craze for contrast. They revel in virtue because it is so different from vice. They revel in vice because it is so different from virtue. Deeming quivered with happiness when the last patient was gone and he could steal to the room where the spaniel "
"Enough! Enough!" I exclaimed. "I won't hear any more! Thank God he's dead! Thank God it's all over now! Why did you do that? " Vernon had suddenly laughed. < 132
THE BLACK SPANIEL
"Why did you do that?" I repeated. " What is there to laugh at? "
" I was laughing at your certainty, Luttrell, at the calm assurance with which we — poor, ignorant beings that we are — assert this or that regarding the fate of a soul, without knowing anything of the purposes of the Creator."
" I don't understand."
" And yet you say — ' Thank God, it's all over now! '
He looked at me so strangely that I was struck to silence. I opened my lips to speak, but, while his eyes were upon me, I could say nothing. He made me feel as if, indeed, I were plunged in a profound gulf of igno- rance, as if he watched me there from some height of understanding, of knowledge.
" Now I'll go and fetch the spaniel," he said.
And he got up and quietly left the room.
I turned in my chair and sat facing the door. The room was softly lit by wax candles, and on the walls were the pictures of gentleness, of mercy, of goodness and adoration which had hung upon the walls of Vernon's dining-room in Rome. My glance ran over them, while my mind dwelt upon the horrors of Vernon's nar- rative— horrors that seemed all the greater be- cause he had told me so little, had left my imagination so unfettered. Then I looked again towards the door, and listened intently. Presently I heard a door shut, the sound of a
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
step. Vernon was coming with the spaniel. I had asked to see the dog; I had wished to see it. Yet now my wish was about to be gratified I felt an extreme repugnance invade me. I longed to escape from the fulfilment of my wish. I was seized with — was it fear? It was something cold, something that lay upon my nerves like ice, that surely turned the blood in my veins to water. But, I could do nothing now, nothing to escape. Something within me seemed to make a furious effort to take up some weapon and attack the cold heavy thing that was striving to paralyse me. I was con- scious of battle. In the midst of the battle the door opened and Vernon came in.
He was carrying the black spaniel in his arms.
He walked in slowly, kicked the door back- wards with his heel to shut it, came to the table and sat down, still keeping the dog in his arms.
The dog was muzzled, and had on a collar to which a steel chain was attached; but, for the first moment, the only thing that struck me was his thinness. He was excessively thin — al- most emaciated. He sat on his master's knee, with his chin on the edge of the table and his yellow eyes gazing at me. .A long trembling ran through his body, ceased, and was renewed with a regularity that reminded me of the tick- ing of a clock. Vernon kept his two hands up- on the spaniel. They shuddered on the dog's back when he shuddered.
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
"Well," Vernon said. ".What do you think of him? "
" He's horribly thin," I said. " Horribly."
I turned my eyes from the spaniel to Ver- non's face.
" Do you think " I began and hesitated.
" What? " he asked calmly.
"Do you think you give him enough to eat? " I said.
" Oh, it's very bad for dogs to overfeed," he answered. "Nothing ruins their health like overeating, and spaniels are like pugs, in- clined to be greedy."
I noticed that he had not answered my ques- tion.
He lifted one hand, laid it on the spaniel's head, and smoothed the black hair, moving his hand backwards to the neck. The dog turned its head back towards him and showed his white teeth, as if his master's hand drew him but to a demonstration of hatred, not of affec- tion. Vernon smiled, lifted his hand, and re- peated the action. The dog gave a low growl ending in a whine.
" Now you haven't told me what you think of him," Vernon continued, " and I want to know. I want very much to know."
I looked into the spaniel's eyes, and again something cold lay upon my nerves like ice.
"Why?" I said. "What does it matter what I think? "
135
THE BLACK SPANIEL
"Do answer my question!" Vernon said with unwonted irritation.
" There's something about the dog," I said, " that's— that's-
" Yes? " he said sharply.
" That's uncanny."
" Ah! " The word was a long-drawn sigh. "You think that!"
" Yes, I shouldn't care to have him about me. I shouldn't care to sleep with him in my
room."
"Sleep! Heaven forbid!"
His exclamation was almost shrill. It startled me.
"Where does the dog sleep?" I asked. " Where do you put him at night? "
" There's a dressing-room opening out of my bedroom. He's shut in there."
" And you — you say you've been sleeping badly lately? "
" I haven't been sleeping at all."
" Does he whine? Does he disturb you? "
" He never makes a sound at night. I think he's afraid that if he did I should punish him. He's evidently had an unkind master, poor fellow."
There was something so hideously insincere in Vernon's voice as he said the last words that I could not help expressing the thought, the suspicion that had been, that was haunting me.
" Has he got a kind master now? " I said. 136
THE BLACK SPANIEL
I fixed my eyes on Vernon's.
" Has he? " I repeated.
At that moment I wanted to force things. The entrance of the dog had deepened my sense of moving in mystery until it became ab- solutely intolerable. A hard determination took hold upon me to compel Vernon to ex- plain— what? I did not know. But that there was something to be explained, some strange undercurrent of motive, of desire, of intention, deep and furtive, I seemed to be aware.
" 'What do you mean? " Vernon said. " Surely you know my feeling for animals."
" I do."
" Then what do you mean? "
" I mean that as regards this animal, this spaniel, I don't — I can't trust you," I said. " I don't know why it is, I don't understand, I don't understand anything. But I don't trust you, Vernon. That's the truth. It's best to speak it."
To my great surprise, he did not indignant- ly resent my words, nor did he look guilty or ashamed. Indeed, it seemed to me that an ex- pression of something like relief flitted across his face as I finished speaking.
" I knew it," he said. " I knew quite well you didn't trust me. And Gernham? Have you spoken to him of your mistrust? "
"He knows I don't understand why you bought this dog, and what you're going to do
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THE BLACK SPANIEL
to him. He knows I'm — I'm afraid of — of what you may be going to do."
He was silent, and again drew his hand across the spaniel's soft black coat. The dog struggled. He struck his open hand down on the dog's head, and the dog lay still, cowering upon his master's knees.
" Gernham doesn't enter into this," he said inflexibly.
"And I?"
'You! That's different. You introduced me to Deeming."
Again the dog began to struggle upon his knees, but this time more violently.
Vernon lifted his hand again.
" Put him down ! " I said. " For God's sake put him down! Don't strike him! "
" Very well."
He dropped the spaniel to the floor. The spaniel ran under the dining-table. I sprang up from my seat.
"Don't, don't! "I began.
" It's all right," said Vernon. " I've got him by the chain." He dragged the spaniel out, and fastened him up to the sideboard at the far end of the room.
"Why, you're trembling!" he said, as he came back to his chair.
"Am I?" I said, ashamed, "I'm not a coward, but — but this dog — I can't stand him near me, close to me, when I can't see what he's doing."
138
THE BLACK SPANIEL
I cleared my throat, went to the window, threw it open, leaned out, and spat. Leaving the window open, I came back to the table. The spaniel was now lying down on the floor, close to the sideboard.
'What is it?" I said, almost fiercely, I think, in my inexplicable physical distress, " what is it that's wrong with the dog? What is it that's unnatural about him? "
" You have no idea? " said Vernon.
" Not the slightest. The poor beast seems harmless enough, though he's terrified. One can see that."
" Exactly. He is terrified."
"And the strange thing is that his terror terrifies me."
" Now you're getting to it," Vernon said. ' Why should the spaniel be terrified? "
"Why? How should I know? Isn't that for you to say? "
"Sit down again," he said. " The dog can't get to you now."
As he spoke, he sat down. I glanced to- wards the dog, saw that what Vernon had said was true, and followed his example.
" The dog's terror," he said. " Think of that, Luttrell! Seek for an explanation in that."
" I have, but I haven't found one."
" Whom is it terrified of? "
" Of you," I answered. " The first time we
139
THE BLACK SPANIEL'
saw him, I noticed that he was abjectly: terri- fied of you."
" Perfectly true. Why should that be? Is it natural? "
" Utterly unnatural," I said. " Unless he's been badly, brutally treated, and is afraid of everybody."
" He is not afraid of everybody. He is only afraid of me. Was he afraid of Lord Elyn? "
" No."
" He is only afraid of me."
" Are you certain? "
" Would you like to test it? "
"How?" I asked.
" I will leave the room for a moment — leave y;ou alone with the dog." ' "No! "I exclaimed.
6 You are afraid? "
" I'm not a coward, but there's something about this spaniel which horrifies my imagina- tion as a spectre might horrify it."
" Nevertheless, you must summon your courage. I wish it. I wish to know how the spaniel will be with you when you are alone to- gether. Come, make the experiment."
He got up and went towards the door. I did not try to keep him.
" I'll be back in a moment," he said.
And he went softly out of the room and shut the door behind him.
When he had gone, I sat where I was, look- ing at the black blot on the floor by the side-
140
THE BLACK SPANIEL
board. A strong curiosity was awake in me fighting my strange physical repulsion. I longed to put the thing to the test, yet I feared to approach the spaniel. How long I sat there I do not know, how long I might have sat there I cannot tell had nothing occurred to bias me towards action. But something did occur. The spaniel suddenly whimpered softly, as if to attract my attention, whimpered again and struck his feathery tail upon the floor. Those natural sounds of an anxious dog reassured me. I got up quickly and went over to the sideboard. Instantly, with a sort of strangled wail, the spaniel sprang up, put his forepaws on my legs, and thrust his hot nose into my hand, pushing, pushing hard, as if he sought to hide himself in a friendly shelter. I felt a wetness on my hand, the wetness of an ani- mal's tears. Then all my horror vanished and only pity remained. I knelt down on the car- pet. I put my arms round the dog. I felt his trembling body with my hands. He was thin, hideously thin. His piteous eyes begged some- thing of me. Still holding him with one arm, I stretched out the other, and opened a door in the sideboard. Within I saw a basket with some cut bread in it. I took out the bread. The spaniel sprang upon it passionately, tore it out of my hand, and devoured it ravenously. Then a wave of hot indignation went over me. At that moment I hated Vernon with all my soul. I hated him so much that I lost all sense of
141
THE BLACK SPANIEL
everything except my fury against him. I held the dog tightly as I knelt on the floor, and, turning my head towards the door, I called out —
"Vernon! Vernon!"
Instantly the door opened and Vernon ap- peared. The dog looked as he had looked when he was being brought into the house.
" Vernon," I said, " you're a d d black- guard! "
"Why?" he said.
" This dog is starving. You're starving him! D'you hear? You're starving him!"
" I know I am," he answered.
I got up. The spaniel rushed against my legs and leaned against them as I stood.
" Then Gernham was right," I said. * You are a madman."
" Is it madness to see what is when others are blind to it? "
"To see— to see?" I exclaimed. 'What is there to see but this dog, this spaniel that you are torturing? "
" There is this spaniel — yes. Look at him. Look into his eyes. Look at the soul in them."
There was something compelling, some- thing almost mystical, in his voice. I looked down into the yellow eyes of the spaniel. They met mine, then looked away from mine as if unable to bear my gaze.
"• What is it? " 1 said, in a whisper. " What is it?"
THE BLACK SPANIEL1
Again I was assailed by the sensation which had come to me when I waited in the hall to know if Vernon would receive me, a sensation that, with the black spaniel, linked with it, mysteriously mingled with it, was something of the man who was dead — something of Deeming.
" Deeming! " I stammered. " Deeming! "
I did not know what I meant, but I was compelled to pronounce the name of my friend.
" Deeming? " I said once more, looking to- wards Vernon.
"Don't you feel that he is here?" said Vernon.
" But he is dead."
" Don't you feel that He is here? " >
" Yes," I said. " But it can't be. He is dead."
" His body is dead — yes. But his soul, is that dead?"
When he said that, I understood what he meant, and I recoiled from the black spaniel as from a nameless horror.
' Vernon ! " I said. " Vernon ! "
" Do you understand now? " he asked. " Do you understand why I bought the spaniel, why I have kept the spaniel here in the house where he tortured his dog? It was to punish him as he punished it, to torture him as he tortured it. Directly I saw the spaniel crouching down in the Park, directly I looked into his eyes, I
143
THE BLACK SPANIEL
knew. Deeming died on the 30th of June, the spaniel was born on that very day. The soul of the dog-torturer passed at the death of the body of the man into the body of the dog. I am not mad — no. I am only just. I am the instrument of the justice of Providence. Deeming's soul has been sent back into the world to pay its penalty. And I am here to see that the penalty is paid."
There was blazing in his eyes the light which I had seen in them for the first time in the res- taurant in Rome, the light which had made Deeming say that in Vernon there was the spirit of a black fanatic.
" It's not true ! " I said. " It can't be true ! "
" But Lord Elyn has felt it, Cragg has felt it, you have felt it — the strangeness of the spaniel. You know now, you know that what I say is true. Deny that you know it is true! Deny it then!"
I opened my lips to deny it, but they refused to speak. I was filled with a horror of the imagination, but I was resolved not to succumb to it. I seized the steel chain that was attached to the collar of the spaniel, and untied it from the sideboard.
"What are you doing?" said Vernon sharply.
" Good-night, Vernon," I said, trying to keep my voice calm; " I am going to take the spaniel with me."
As I spoke I moved towards the door. The 144
'I WENT OUT INTO THE NIGHT CARRYING IT IN MY ARMS.'
THE BLACEj SP AN Ti2iJ
spaniel slunk along beside me, with its belly close to the floor, trying to press itself against my legs.
"What!" said Yernon, "to happiness — to affection !"
I was close to the door. I had my fingers upon the handle.
"That!" he cried with violence. "No! Rather than that, let it end now and here ! "
He made a rapid movement; the spaniel howled and cowered against the door. I heard the crack of a pistol-shot. I felt the chain leap in my hand as the spaniel sprang upwards and fell on the floor.
I bent down, touched him, turned him over.
He was dead.
Then I faced Vernon.
" Murderer! " I said. " Murderer! "
" But — he was only a black spaniel! " Ver- non said, laying the revolver down on the table.
"Murderer!" I repeated.
Then I lifted up the corpse of the spaniel, and went out into the night carrying it in my arms.
145
THE MISSION OF MR. EU- STACE GREYNE
MRS. EUSTACE GREYNE (pro- nounced Green) wrinkled her fore- head— that noble, that startling forehead which had heen written about in the news- papers of two hemispheres — laid down her American Squeezer pen, and sighed. It was an autumn day, nipping and melancholy, full of the rustle of dying leaves and the faint sound of muffin bells, and Belgrave Square looked sad even to the great female novelist who had written her way into a mansion there. Fog hung about with the policeman on the pavement. The passing motor cars were like shadows. Their stertorous pantings sounded to Mrs. Greyne's ears like the asthma of dying monsters. She sighed again, and murmured in a deep contralto voice: " It must be so." Then she got up, crossed the heavy Persian carpet which had been bought with the proceeds of a short story in her earlier days, and placed her forefinger upon an electric bell.
Like lightning a powdered giant came.
" Has Mr. Greyne gone out? "
" No, ma'am."
THE MISSION OF
"Where is he?"
:< In his study, ma'am, pasting the last of the cuttings into the new album."
Mrs. Greyne smiled. It was a pretty pic- ture the unconscious six-footer had conjured up.
" I am sorry to disturb Mr. Greyne," she answered, with that gracious, and even curling suavity which won all hearts; "but I wish to see him. Will you ask him to come to me for a moment? "
The giant flew, silk-stockinged, to obey the mandate, while Mrs. Greyne sat down on a carved oaken chair of ecclesiastical aspect to await her husband.
She was a famous woman, a personage, this simply-attired lady. With an American Squeezer pen she had won fame, fortune, and a mansion in Belgrave Square, and all without the sacrifice of principle. Respectability in- carnate, she had so dealt with the sorrows and evils of the world that she had rendered them utterly acceptable to Mrs. Grundy, Mr. Grundy, and all the Misses Grundy. People said she dived into the depths of human nature, and brought up nothing that need scandalise a curate's grandmother, or the whole-aunt of an archdeacon; and this was so true that she had made a really prodigious amount of money. Her large, her solid, her unrelenting books lay upon every table. Even the smart set kept them, uncut — like pretty sinners who have
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MR. EUSTACE GREYNE
never been " found out " — to give an air of hap-hazard intellectuality to frisky boudoirs. All the clergy, however unable to get their tithes, bought them. All bishops alluded to them in " pulpit utterances." Fabulous prices were paid for them by magazine editors. They ran as serials through all the tale of months. The suburbs battened on them. The provinces adored them. Country people talked of no other literature. In fact, Mrs. Eustace Greyne was a really fabulous success.
Why, then, should she heave these Heavy sighs in Belgrave Square? Why should she lift an intellectual hand as though to tousle the glossy chestnut bandeaux which swept back from her forcible forehead, and screw her re- assuring features into these wrinkles of per- plexity and distress?
The door opened, and Mr. Eustace Greyne appeared, " What is it, Eugenia? " upon his lips.
Mr. Greyne was a number of years younger than his celebrated wife, and looked even younger than his years. He was a very smart man, with smooth, jet-black hair, which he wore parted in the middle ; pleasant, dark eyes that could twinkle gently; a clear, pale com- plexion; and a nice, tall figure. One felt, in glancing at him, that he had been an Eton boy, and had at least thought of going into the militia at some period of his life. His his- tory can be briefly told.
149
THE MISSION OF
Scarcely had he emerged into the world be- fore he met and was married to Mrs. Eustace Greyne, then Miss Eugenia Hannibal-Barker. He had had no time to sow a single oat, wild or otherwise; no time to adore a barmaid, or wish to have his name linked with that of an actress ; no