Chapter III
The Watchers
I was struck by the way the two young women looked at each other. Isuppose I have been so much in the habit of weighing up in my own mindthe personality of witnesses and of forming judgment by theirunconscious action and mode of bearing themselves, that the habitextends to my life outside as well as within the court-house. At thismoment of my life anything that interested Miss Trelawny interested me;and as she had been struck by the newcomer I instinctively weighed herup also. By comparison of the two I seemed somehow to gain a newknowledge of Miss Trelawny. Certainly, the two women made a goodcontrast. Miss Trelawny was of fine figure; dark, straight-featured.She had marvellous eyes; great, wide-open, and as black and soft asvelvet, with a mysterious depth. To look in them was like gazing at ablack mirror such as Doctor Dee used in his wizard rites. I heard anold gentleman at the picnic, a great oriental traveller, describe theeffect of her eyes "as looking at night at the great distant lamps of amosque through the open door." The eyebrows were typical. Finelyarched and rich in long curling hair, they seemed like the properarchitectural environment of the deep, splendid eyes. Her hair wasblack also, but was as fine as silk. Generally black hair is a type ofanimal strength and seems as if some strong expression of the forces ofa strong nature; but in this case there could be no such thought.There were refinement and high breeding; and though there was nosuggestion of weakness, any sense of power there was, was ratherspiritual than animal. The whole harmony of her being seemed complete.Carriage, figure, hair, eyes; the mobile, full mouth, whose scarletlips and white teeth seemed to light up the lower part of the face--asthe eyes did the upper; the wide sweep of the jaw from chin to ear; thelong, fine fingers; the hand which seemed to move from the wrist asthough it had a sentience of its own. All these perfections went tomake up a personality that dominated either by its grace, itssweetness, its beauty, or its charm.
Nurse Kennedy, on the other hand, was rather under than over a woman'saverage height. She was firm and thickset, with full limbs and broad,strong, capable hands. Her colour was in the general effect that of anautumn leaf. The yellow-brown hair was thick and long, and thegolden-brown eyes sparkled from the freckled, sunburnt skin. Her rosycheeks gave a general idea of rich brown. The red lips and white teethdid not alter the colour scheme, but only emphasized it. She had asnub nose--there was no possible doubt about it; but like such noses ingeneral it showed a nature generous, untiring, and full of good-nature.Her broad white forehead, which even the freckles had spared, was fullof forceful thought and reason.
Doctor Winchester had on their journey from the hospital, coached herin the necessary particulars, and without a word she took charge of thepatient and set to work. Having examined the new-made bed and shakenthe pillows, she spoke to the Doctor, who gave instructions; presentlywe all four, stepping together, lifted the unconscious man from thesofa.
Early in the afternoon, when Sergeant Daw had returned, I called at myrooms in Jermyn Street, and sent out such clothes, books and papers asI should be likely to want within a few days. Then I went on to keepmy legal engagements.
The Court sat late that day as an important case was ending; it wasstriking six as I drove in at the gate of the Kensington Palace Road.I found myself installed in a large room close to the sick chamber.
That night we were not yet regularly organised for watching, so thatthe early part of the evening showed an unevenly balanced guard. NurseKennedy, who had been on duty all day, was lying down, as she hadarranged to come on again by twelve o'clock. Doctor Winchester, whowas dining in the house, remained in the room until dinner wasannounced; and went back at once when it was over. During dinner Mrs.Grant remained in the room, and with her Sergeant Daw, who wished tocomplete a minute examination which he had undertaken of everything inthe room and near it. At nine o'clock Miss Trelawny and I went in torelieve the Doctor. She had lain down for a few hours in the afternoonso as to be refreshed for her work at night. She told me that she haddetermined that for this night at least she would sit up and watch. Idid not try to dissuade her, for I knew that her mind was made up.Then and there I made up my mind that I would watch with her--unless,of course, I should see that she really did not wish it. I saidnothing of my intentions for the present. We came in on tiptoe, sosilently that the Doctor, who was bending over the bed, did not hearus, and seemed a little startled when suddenly looking up he saw oureyes upon him. I felt that the mystery of the whole thing was gettingon his nerves, as it had already got on the nerves of some others ofus. He was, I fancied, a little annoyed with himself for having beenso startled, and at once began to talk in a hurried manner as though toget over our idea of his embarrassment:
"I am really and absolutely at my wits' end to find any fit cause forthis stupor. I have made again as accurate an examination as I knowhow, and I am satisfied that there is no injury to the brain, that is,no external injury. Indeed, all his vital organs seem unimpaired. Ihave given him, as you know, food several times and it has manifestlydone him good. His breathing is strong and regular, and his pulse isslower and stronger than it was this morning. I cannot find evidenceof any known drug, and his unconsciousness does not resemble any of themany cases of hypnotic sleep which I saw in the Charcot Hospital inParis. And as to these wounds"--he laid his finger gently on thebandaged wrist which lay outside the coverlet as he spoke, "I do notknow what to make of them. They might have been made by acarding-machine; but that supposition is untenable. It is within thebounds of possibility that they might have been made by a wild animalif it had taken care to sharpen its claws. That too is, I take it,impossible. By the way, have you any strange pets here in the house;anything of an exceptional kind, such as a tiger-cat or anything out ofthe common?" Miss Trelawny smiled a sad smile which made my heart ache,as she made answer:
"Oh no! Father does not like animals about the house, unless they aredead and mummied." This was said with a touch of bitterness--orjealousy, I could hardly tell which. "Even my poor kitten was onlyallowed in the house on sufferance; and though he is the dearest andbest-conducted cat in the world, he is now on a sort of parole, and isnot allowed into this room."
As she was speaking a faint rattling of the door handle was heard.Instantly Miss Trelawny's face brightened. She sprang up and went overto the door, saying as she went:
"There he is! That is my Silvio. He stands on his hind legs andrattles the door handle when he wants to come into a room." She openedthe door, speaking to the cat as though he were a baby: "Did him wanthis movver? Come then; but he must stay with her!" She lifted thecat, and came back with him in her arms. He was certainly amagnificent animal. A chinchilla grey Persian with long silky hair; areally lordly animal with a haughty bearing despite his gentleness; andwith great paws which spread out as he placed them on the ground.Whilst she was fondling him, he suddenly gave a wriggle like an eel andslipped out of her arms. He ran across the room and stood opposite alow table on which stood the mummy of an animal, and began to mew andsnarl. Miss Trelawny was after him in an instant and lifted him in herarms, kicking and struggling and wriggling to get away; but not bitingor scratching, for evidently he loved his beautiful mistress. Heceased to make a noise the moment he was in her arms; in a whisper sheadmonished him:
"O you naughty Silvio! You have broken your parole that mother gavefor you. Now, say goodnight to the gentlemen, and come away tomother's room!" As she was speaking she held out the cat's paw to meto shake. As I did so I could not but admire its size and beauty."Why," said I, "his paw seems like a little boxing-glove full ofclaws." She smiled:
"So it ought to. Don't you notice that my Silvio has seven toes, see!"she opened the paw; and surely enough there were seven separate claws,each of them sheathed in a delicate, fine, shell-like case. As Igently stroked the foot the claws emerged and one of themaccidentally--there was no anger now and the cat was purring--stuckinto my hand. Instinctively I said as I drew back:
"Why, his claws
are like razors!"
Doctor Winchester had come close to us and was bending over looking atthe cat's claws; as I spoke he said in a quick, sharp way:
"Eh!" I could hear the quick intake of his breath. Whilst I wasstroking the now quiescent cat, the Doctor went to the table and toreoff a piece of blotting-paper from the writing-pad and came back. Helaid the paper on his palm and, with a simple "pardon me!" to MissTrelawny, placed the cat's paw on it and pressed it down with his otherhand. The haughty cat seemed to resent somewhat the familiarity, andtried to draw its foot away. This was plainly what the Doctor wanted,for in the act the cat opened the sheaths of its claws and and madeseveral reefs in the soft paper. Then Miss Trelawny took her pet away.She returned in a couple of minutes; as she came in she said:
"It is most odd about that mummy! When Silvio came into the roomfirst--indeed I took him in as a kitten to show to Father--he went onjust the same way. He jumped up on the table, and tried to scratch andbite the mummy. That was what made Father so angry, and brought thedecree of banishment on poor Silvio. Only his parole, given throughme, kept him in the house."
Whilst she had been gone, Doctor Winchester had taken the bandage fromher father's wrist. The wound was now quite clear, as the separatecuts showed out in fierce red lines. The Doctor folded theblotting-paper across the line of punctures made by the cat's claws,and held it down close to the wound. As he did so, he looked uptriumphantly and beckoned us over to him.
The cuts in the paper corresponded with the wounds in the wrist! Noexplanation was needed, as he said:
"It would have been better if master Silvio had not broken his parole!"
We were all silent for a little while. Suddenly Miss Trelawny said:
"But Silvio was not in here last night!"
"Are you sure? Could you prove that if necessary?" She hesitatedbefore replying:
"I am certain of it; but I fear it would be difficult to prove. Silviosleeps in a basket in my room. I certainly put him to bed last night;I remember distinctly laying his little blanket over him, and tuckinghim in. This morning I took him out of the basket myself. I certainlynever noticed him in here; though, of course, that would not mean much,for I was too concerned about poor father, and too much occupied withhim, to notice even Silvio."
The Doctor shook his head as he said with a certain sadness:
"Well, at any rate it is no use trying to prove anything now. Any catin the world would have cleaned blood-marks--did any exist--from hispaws in a hundredth part of the time that has elapsed."
Again we were all silent; and again the silence was broken by MissTrelawny:
"But now that I think of it, it could not have been poor Silvio thatinjured Father. My door was shut when I first heard the sound; andFather's was shut when I listened at it. When I went in, the injuryhad been done; so that it must have been before Silvio could possiblyhave got in." This reasoning commended itself, especially to me as abarrister, for it was proof to satisfy a jury. It gave me a distinctpleasure to have Silvio acquitted of the crime--possibly because he wasMiss Trelawny's cat and was loved by her. Happy cat! Silvio'smistress was manifestly pleased as I said:
"Verdict, 'not guilty!'" Doctor Winchester after a pause observed:
"My apologies to master Silvio on this occasion; but I am still puzzledto know why he is so keen against that mummy. Is he the same towardthe other mummies in the house? There are, I suppose, a lot of them.I saw three in the hall as I came in."
"There are lots of them," she answered. "I sometimes don't knowwhether I am in a private house or the British Museum. But Silvionever concerns himself about any of them except that particular one. Isuppose it must be because it is of an animal, not a man or a woman."
"Perhaps it is of a cat!" said the Doctor as he started up and wentacross the room to look at the mummy more closely. "Yes," he went on,"it is the mummy of a cat; and a very fine one, too. If it hadn't beena special favourite of some very special person it would never havereceived so much honour. See! A painted case and obsidian eyes--justlike a human mummy. It is an extraordinary thing, that knowledge ofkind to kind. Here is a dead cat--that is all; it is perhaps four orfive thousand years old--and another cat of another breed, in what ispractically another world, is ready to fly at it, just as it would ifit were not dead. I should like to experiment a bit about that cat ifyou don't mind, Miss Trelawny." She hesitated before replying:
"Of course, do anything you may think necessary or wise; but I hope itwill not be anything to hurt or worry my poor Silvio." The Doctorsmiled as he answered:
"Oh, Silvio would be all right: it is the other one that my sympathieswould be reserved for."
"How do you mean?"
"Master Silvio will do the attacking; the other one will do thesuffering."
"Suffering?" There was a note of pain in her voice. The Doctor smiledmore broadly:
"Oh, please make your mind easy as to that. The other won't suffer aswe understand it; except perhaps in his structure and outfit."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Simply this, my dear young lady, that the antagonist will be a mummycat like this one. There are, I take it, plenty of them to be had inMuseum Street. I shall get one and place it here instead of thatone--you won't think that a temporary exchange will violate yourFather's instructions, I hope. We shall then find out, to begin with,whether Silvio objects to all mummy cats, or only to this one inparticular."
"I don't know," she said doubtfully. "Father's instructions seem veryuncompromising." Then after a pause she went on: "But of course underthe circumstances anything that is to be ultimately for his good mustbe done. I suppose there can't be anything very particular about themummy of a cat."
Doctor Winchester said nothing. He sat rigid, with so grave a look onhis face that his extra gravity passed on to me; and in itsenlightening perturbation I began to realise more than I had yet donethe strangeness of the case in which I was now so deeply concerned.When once this thought had begun there was no end to it. Indeed itgrew, and blossomed, and reproduced itself in a thousand differentways. The room and all in it gave grounds for strange thoughts. Therewere so many ancient relics that unconsciously one was taken back tostrange lands and strange times. There were so many mummies or mummyobjects, round which there seemed to cling for ever the penetratingodours of bitumen, and spices and gums--"Nard and Circassia's balmysmells"--that one was unable to forget the past. Of course, there wasbut little light in the room, and that carefully shaded; so that therewas no glare anywhere. None of that direct light which can manifestitself as a power or an entity, and so make for companionship. Theroom was a large one, and lofty in proportion to its size. In itsvastness was place for a multitude of things not often found in abedchamber. In far corners of the room were shadows of uncanny shape.More than once as I thought, the multitudinous presence of the dead andthe past took such hold on me that I caught myself looking roundfearfully as though some strange personality or influence was present.Even the manifest presence of Doctor Winchester and Miss Trelawny couldnot altogether comfort or satisfy me at such moments. It was with adistinct sense of relief that I saw a new personality in the room inthe shape of Nurse Kennedy. There was no doubt that that business-like,self-reliant, capable young woman added an element of security to suchwild imaginings as my own. She had a quality of common sense thatseemed to pervade everything around her, as though it were some kind ofemanation. Up to that moment I had been building fancies around thesick man; so that finally all about him, including myself, had becomeinvolved in them, or enmeshed, or saturated, or... But now that she hadcome, he relapsed into his proper perspective as a patient; the roomwas a sick-room, and the shadows lost their fearsome quality. The onlything which it could not altogether abrogate was the strange Egyptiansmell. You may put a mummy in a glass case and hermetically seal it sothat no corroding air can get within; but all the same it will exhaleits odour. One might think that four or five thousand years wou
ldexhaust the olfactory qualities of anything; but experience teaches usthat these smells remain, and that their secrets are unknown to us.Today they are as much mysteries as they were when the embalmers putthe body in the bath of natron...
All at once I sat up. I had become lost in an absorbing reverie. TheEgyptian smell had seemed to get on my nerves--on my memory--on my verywill.
At that moment I had a thought which was like an inspiration. If I wasinfluenced in such a manner by the smell, might it not be that the sickman, who lived half his life or more in the atmosphere, had graduallyand by slow but sure process taken into his system something which hadpermeated him to such degree that it had a new power derived fromquantity--or strength--or...
I was becoming lost again in a reverie. This would not do. I musttake such precaution that I could remain awake, or free from suchentrancing thought. I had had but half a night's sleep last night; andthis night I must remain awake. Without stating my intention, for Ifeared that I might add to the trouble and uneasiness of Miss Trelawny,I went downstairs and out of the house. I soon found a chemist's shop,and came away with a respirator. When I got back, it was ten o'clock;the Doctor was going for the night. The Nurse came with him to thedoor of the sick-room, taking her last instructions. Miss Trelawny satstill beside the bed. Sergeant Daw, who had entered as the Doctor wentout, was some little distance off.
When Nurse Kennedy joined us, we arranged that she should sit up tilltwo o'clock, when Miss Trelawny would relieve her. Thus, in accordancewith Mr. Trelawny's instructions, there would always be a man and awoman in the room; and each one of us would overlap, so that at no timewould a new set of watchers come on duty without some one to tell ofwhat--if anything--had occurred. I lay down on a sofa in my own room,having arranged that one of the servants should call me a little beforetwelve. In a few moments I was asleep.
When I was waked, it took me several seconds to get back my thoughts soas to recognise my own identity and surroundings. The short sleep had,however, done me good, and I could look on things around me in a morepractical light than I had been able to do earlier in the evening. Ibathed my face, and thus refreshed went into the sick-room. I movedvery softly. The Nurse was sitting by the bed, quiet and alert; theDetective sat in an arm-chair across the room in deep shadow. He didnot move when I crossed, until I got close to him, when he said in adull whisper:
"It is all right; I have not been asleep!" An unnecessary thing tosay, I thought--it always is, unless it be untrue in spirit. When Itold him that his watch was over; that he might go to bed till I shouldcall him at six o'clock, he seemed relieved and went with alacrity. Atthe door he turned and, coming back to me, said in a whisper:
"I sleep lightly and I shall have my pistols with me. I won't feel soheavy-headed when I get out of this mummy smell."
He too, then, had shared my experience of drowsiness!
I asked the Nurse if she wanted anything. I noticed that she had avinaigrette in her lap. Doubtless she, too, had felt some of theinfluence which had so affected me. She said that she had all sherequired, but that if she should want anything she would at once let meknow. I wished to keep her from noticing my respirator, so I went tothe chair in the shadow where her back was toward me. Here I quietlyput it on, and made myself comfortable.
For what seemed a long time, I sat and thought and thought. It was awild medley of thoughts, as might have been expected from theexperiences of the previous day and night. Again I found myselfthinking of the Egyptian smell; and I remember that I felt a delicioussatisfaction that I did not experience it as I had done. Therespirator was doing its work.
It must have been that the passing of this disturbing thought made forrepose of mind, which is the corollary of bodily rest, for, though Ireally cannot remember being asleep or waking from it, I saw avision--I dreamed a dream, I scarcely know which.
I was still in the room, seated in the chair. I had on my respiratorand knew that I breathed freely. The Nurse sat in her chair with herback toward me. She sat quite still. The sick man lay as still as thedead. It was rather like the picture of a scene than the reality; allwere still and silent; and the stillness and silence were continuous.Outside, in the distance I could hear the sounds of a city, theoccasional roll of wheels, the shout of a reveller, the far-away echoof whistles and the rumbling of trains. The light was very, very low;the reflection of it under the green-shaded lamp was a dim relief tothe darkness, rather than light. The green silk fringe of the lamp hadmerely the colour of an emerald seen in the moonlight. The room, forall its darkness, was full of shadows. It seemed in my whirlingthoughts as though all the real things had become shadows--shadowswhich moved, for they passed the dim outline of the high windows.Shadows which had sentience. I even thought there was sound, a faintsound as of the mew of a cat--the rustle of drapery and a metallicclink as of metal faintly touching metal. I sat as one entranced. Atlast I felt, as in nightmare, that this was sleep, and that in thepassing of its portals all my will had gone.
All at once my senses were full awake. A shriek rang in my ears. Theroom was filled suddenly with a blaze of light. There was the sound ofpistol shots--one, two; and a haze of white smoke in the room. When mywaking eyes regained their power, I could have shrieked with horrormyself at what I saw before me.