III
THE HOUSEMAID'S FOLLOWERS
The contrast in effect between suspicion and certainty is very curiousto observe. When I had walked through the private museum of my poorfriend Challoner and had looked at the large collection of humanskeletons that it contained, a suspicion that there was something queerabout those skeletons had made me quite uncomfortable. Now, afterreading his first narrative, I knew all about them. They were the relicsof criminals whom he had taken red-handed and preserved for theinstruction of posterity. Thus were my utmost suspicions verified, andyet, strange as it may seem, with the advent of certainty, my horror ofthem vanished. Even the hideous little doll-like heads induced but apassing shudder. Vague, half superstitious awe gave place to scientificinterest.
I took an early opportunity of renewing my acquaintance with theastonishing and gruesome "Museum Archives." The second narrative washeaded "Anthropological Series, 2, 3 and 4." It exhibited the samesingular outlook as the first, showing that to Challoner the criminalhad not appeared to be a human being at all, but merely a sub-human form,anatomically similar to man.
"The acquisition of Specimen Number One," it began, "gave meconsiderable occupation, both bodily and mental. As I labored from dayto day rendering the osseous framework of the late James Archer fit forexhibition in a museum case, I reflected on the future to which recentevents had committed me. I had been, as it were, swept away on the tideof circumstance. The death of this person had occurred by aninadvertence, and accident had thrown on me the onus of disposing of theremains. I had solved that difficulty by converting the deceased into amuseum specimen. So far, well, but what of the future?
"My wife had been murdered by a criminal. The remainder of mylife--short, I hoped--was to be spent in seeking that criminal. But thetrap that I set to catch him would probably catch other criminals first;and since the available method of identification could not be applied tonewly-acquired specimens while in the living state, it followed thateach would have to be reduced to the condition in which identificationwould be possible. And if, on inspection, the specimen acquired provedto be not the one sought, I should have to add it to the collection andrebait the trap. That was evidently the only possible plan.
"But before embarking on it I had to consider its ethical bearings. Ofthe legal position there was no question. It was quite illegal. But thatsignified nothing. There are recent human skeletons in the NaturalHistory Museum; every art school in the country has one and so have manyboard schools. What is the legal position of the owners of those humanremains? It will not bear investigation. As to the Hunterian Museum, itis a mere resurrectionist's legacy. That the skeleton of O'Brian wasobtained by flagrant body-snatching is a well-known historical fact, butone at which the law, very properly, winks. Obviously the legalposition was not worth considering.
"But the ethical position? To me it looked quite satisfactory, thoughclearly at variance with accepted standards. For the attitude of societytowards the criminal appears to be that of a community of starklunatics. In effect, society addresses the professional criminalsomewhat thus:
"'You wish to practice crime as a profession, to gain a livelihood byappropriating--by violence or otherwise--the earnings of honest andindustrious men. Very well, you may do so on certain conditions. If youare skilful and cautious you will not be molested. You may occasiondanger, annoyance and great loss to honest men with very little dangerto yourself unless you are clumsy and incautious; in which case you maybe captured. If you are, we shall take possession of your person anddetain you for so many months or years. During that time you willinhabit quarters better than you are accustomed to; your sleeping-roomwill be kept comfortably warm in all weathers; you will be provided withclothing better than you usually wear; you will have a sufficiency ofexcellent food; expensive officials will be paid to take charge of you;selected medical men will be retained to attend to your health; achaplain (of your own persuasion) will minister to your spiritual needsand a librarian will supply you with books. And all this will be paidfor by the industrious men whom you live by robbing. In short, from themoment that you adopt crime as a profession, we shall pay all yourexpenses, whether you are in prison or at large.' Such is the attitudeof society; and I repeat it is that of a community of madmen.
"How much better and more essentially moral is my plan! I invite thecriminal to walk into my parlor. He walks in, a public nuisance and apublic danger; and he emerges in the form of a museum preparation ofpermanent educational value.
"Thus I reflected and mapped out my course of action as I worked at whatI may call the foundation specimen of my collection. The latter kept mebusy for many days, but I was very pleased with the result when it wasfinished. The bones were of a good color and texture, the fracture ofthe skull, when carefully joined with fish-glue, was quite invisible,and, as to the little dried preparation of the head, it was entirelybeyond my expectations. Comparing it with the photographs taken afterdeath, I was delighted to find that the facial characters and even theexpression were almost perfectly retained.
"It was a red-letter day when I put Number One in the great glass caseand took out the skeleton that I had bought from the dealer to occupyits place until it was ready. The substitute was no longer needed and Iaccordingly dismantled it and destroyed it piecemeal in the furnace,crushing the calcined bones into unrecognizable fragments.
"Meanwhile I had been pushing on my preparations for further captures. Alarge, mahogany-faced safe was fixed in the dining-room to contain thesilver; a burglar alarm was fitted under the floor in front of the safeand connected with a trembler-drum that was kept (with the concussor anda few other appliances) locked in a hanging cupboard at my bed-head,ready to be switched on and placed under my pillow at night. I secretlypurchased a quantity of paste jewelry--bracelets, tiaras, pendants andsuch like glittering trash--and when everything was ready I engaged twonew servants of decidedly queer antecedents. I was at first a littledoubtful about the cook, but the housemaid was a certainty from theoutset. Her character from her late reverend and philanthropic employer,urging me as a Christian man (which I was not) to 'give her anotherchance,' made that perfectly clear.
"I gave her another chance, though not quite of the kind that thereverend gentleman meant. Two days after her arrival I directed her toclean the plate and handed her the key of the safe, of which I havereason to believe that she took a squeeze with a piece of dough. Thesham diamonds were locked in a separate division of the safe, but Iintroduced them to her by taking them out in her presence, spreadingthem on the table and ostentatiously cleaning their rolled-gold settingswith a soft brush. They certainly made a gorgeous and glittering show.I could not have distinguished them from real diamonds; and as for SusanSlodger--that was the housemaid's name--her eyes fairly bulged withavarice.
"It was less than a week after this that the next incident occurred. Iwas lying in bed, dozing fitfully but never losing consciousness. Islept badly at that time, for memories which I avoided by day would comecrowding on me in the darkness. I would think of my lost happiness, ofmy poor, murdered wife and of the wretch who had so lightly crushed outher sweet life as one would kill an inconvenient insect; and thethoughts filled me alternately with unutterable sadness that banishedsleep or with profound anger that urged me to seek justice andretribution.
"The long-case clock on the stair had just struck two when thetrembler-drum beneath my pillow suddenly broke into a prolonged roll.Someone was standing in front of the safe in the dining-room. I rosequietly, switched off the drum, replaced it in the hanging cupboard,and, taking from the same receptacle the concussor and a small leatherbag filled with shot and attached to a long coil of fishing-line, softlydescended the stairs. On the mid-way landing I laid down the shot-bagand paid out the coil of line as I descended the next flight. In thehall I paused for a few seconds to listen. Both the doors of thedining-room were shut, but I could hear faint sounds within. Iapproached the door further from the street and carefully grasped theknob. The locks and hinges I kn
ew were thoroughly oiled, for I hadattended to them daily in common with all the other doors in the lowerpart of the house. I turned the knob slowly and made gentle pressure onthe door, which presently began to open without a sound. As it opened Ibecame aware of a low muttering, and caught distinctly thehalf-whispered words, 'Better try the pick first, Fred.'
"So there was more than one at any rate.
"When the door was wide enough open to admit my head, I looked in. Oneburner of the gas was alight but turned very low, though it gave enoughlight for me to see three men standing before the safe. Three wererather more than I had bargained for. Number One, by himself, had givenme a good deal of occupation, both during and after the capture. Threemight prove a little beyond my powers. And yet, if I could only managethem, they would make a handsome addition to my collection. I watchedthem and turned over the ways and means of dealing with them. Evidentlythe essence of the strategy required was to separate them and deal withthem in detail. But how was it to be done?
"I watched the three men with their heads close together looking into thesafe. The door stood wide open and a key in the lock explained theprocedure so far. One of the men held an electric bulls-eye lamp, thelight of which was focussed on the keyhole of the jewel-compartment,into which another had just introduced a skeleton key.
At this moment, the third man turned his head. By the dim light I couldsee that he was looking, with a distinctly startled expression, in mydirection; in fact, I seemed to meet his eye; but, knowing that I was incomplete darkness in the shadow of the door, I remained motionless.
"'Fred,' he whispered hoarsely, 'the door's open.'
"The other two men looked round sharply, and one of them--presumablyFred--retorted gruffly, 'Then go and shut it. And don't make no bloomin'row.'
"The man addressed felt in his pocket and advanced stealthily across theroom. His feet were encased in list slippers and his tread was perfectlynoiseless. As he approached I backed away, and grasping the newel-postof the staircase gave it a sharp pull, whereat the whole of thebalusters creaked loudly. Then I slipped behind the curtain that partlydivided the hall, poised the concussor as a golf-player poises his club,and gathered in the slack of the fishing-line.
"The burglar's head appeared dimly in silhouette against the faint lightfrom within. He listened for a moment and then peered out into the darkhall. The opportunity seemed excellent if I could only lure him a littlefarther out. In any case, he must not be allowed to retire and shut thedoor.
"I gave a steady pull at the fishing-line. The shot-bag slid over thecarpet on the landing above with a sound remarkably like that of astealthy footstep.
"The burglar looked up sharply and raised his hand; and against thedimly-lighted wall of the dining-room I saw the silhouette of a pointedrevolver. The practice of carrying firearms seems to be growing amongstthe criminal classes, perhaps by reason of the increasing number ofAmerican criminals who visit this country. At any rate, the mattershould be dealt with by appropriate legislation.
"The burglar then stood looking out with his revolver pointed up thestairs. I was about to give another tweak at the fishing-line when anunmistakable creak came from the upper stairs. I think this somewhatreassured my friend, for I heard him mutter that 'he supposed it wasthem dam girls.' He stepped cautiously outside the door, and, fumblingin his pocket, produced a little electric bulls-eye, the light of whichhe threw up the stairs.
"The opportunity was perfect. Against the circle of light produced byhis lamp his head stood out black and distinct, its back towards me,one outstanding ear serving to explain what I may call the constructivedetails of the flat, dark shape.
"With my left hand I silently held aside the curtain and took a carefulaim. Remembering the mishap with Number One, I selected the rightparietal eminence, an oblique impact on which would be less likely toinjure the base of the skull than a vertical blow. But I put my wholestrength into the stroke, and when the padded weight descended on thespot selected, the burglar doubled up as if struck by lightning.
"The impact of the concussor was silent enough, but the man fell with aresounding crash, and the revolver and lamp flew from his hands andrattled noisily along the floor of the hall. The instant I had struckthe blow I ran lightly up the hall and softly turned the knob of thefarther door. Fortunately the two men in the room were too much alarmedto rush out into the hall, or, with the aid of their lamp, they wouldhave seen me. But they were extremely cautious. I thrust my head in atthe door and from the dark end of the room I could see them peering outof the other door and listening intently. After a short interval theytip-toed out into the hall and I lost sight of them.
"Close to the farther door was a large, four-fold Japanese screen. Ithad sheltered me in my last adventure and I thought it might do soagain, as the prostrate burglar was lying a couple of yards past theopening of the door and his two friends were probably examining him.Accordingly I stepped softly along the room and took up a positionbehind the screen in a recess of the folds. My movements had evidentlybeen unobserved and my new position enabled me to peep out into thehall--at some risk of being seen--and to hear all that passed.
"For the moment there was nothing to hear but a faint rustling from thetwo men and an occasional creak from the upper stairs. But presently Icaught a hoarse whisper.
"'Dam funny. He seems to be dead.'
"'Yus; he do look like it,' the other agreed and then addedoptimistically, 'but p'raps he's only took queer.'
"'Dam!' was the impatient rejoinder. 'I tell yer he's dead--dead as apork chop.'
"There was another silence and then, in a yet softer whisper, a voiceasked:
"'D'yer think somebody's been and done 'im in, Fred?'
"'Don't see no marks,' answered Fred; 'besides there ain't no one here.Hallo! what's that?'
"'That' was a loud creak on the upper stairs near the first-floorlanding, doubtless emanating from Miss Slodger or the cook. I have nodoubt that these sounds of stealthy movement were highly disturbing tothe burglars, especially in the present circumstances. And so itappeared, for the answer came in an obviously frightened whisper:'There's someone on the stairs, Fred. Let's hook it. This job ain't noclass.'
"'What!' was the indignant reply. ''Ook it and leave all that stuff. Notme! Nor you neither. There's more'n what one of us can carry. And youput away that barker or else you'll be lettin' it off and bringin' inthe coppers. D'ye 'ear?'
"'Ain't going to be done in the dark same as what Joe's been,' theother whispered sulkily. 'If anyone comes down 'ere, I pots 'im.'
"At this moment there was another very audible creak from above, andthen followed rapidly a succession of events which I subsequentlydisentangled, but which, at the time, were involved in utter confusion.What actually happened was that Fred had begun boldly to ascend thestairs, in some way missing the fishing-line, and being closely followedby his more nervous comrade. The latter, less fortunate, caught his footin the line, stumbled, tightened the line and brought the shot-baghopping down the stairs. What I heard was the sound of the stumble,followed by the quick thud, thud, of the descending shot-bag, exactlyresembling the footfalls of a heavy man running down the stairsbarefoot. Then came two revolver shots in quick succession, a shower ofplaster, a hoarse cry, a heavy fall, and, from above, a loud scufflingfollowed by the slamming of a door and the noisy turning of a key; abrief interval of silence and then a quavering whisper.
"'I ain't 'it yer, Fred, 'ave I?'
"To this question there was no answer but a gurgling groan. I steppedout from my hiding-place, passed through the open doorway and stolesoftly along the hall, guided by the sound of the survivor extricatinghimself from his fallen comrade. A few paces from him I halted with theconcussor poised ready to strike and listened to his fumbling andscuffling. Suddenly a bright light burst forth. He had found Fred'selectric lantern, which was, oddly enough, uninjured by the fall (it hada metal filament, as I subsequently ascertained).
"The circle of light from the bulls-eye, quivering with th
e tremor ofthe hand which held the lantern, embraced the figure of the injuredburglar, huddled in a heap at the foot of the stairs and still twitchingat intervals. It could not have been a pleasant sight to his companion.The greenish-white face with its staring eyes and blood-stained lipsstood out in the bright light from its background of black darkness withthe vivid intensity of some ghastly wax-work.
"The surviving burglar stood petrified, stooping over his comrade, withthe lantern in one shaking hand and the revolver still grasped in theother; and as he stood, he poured out, in a curious, whimperingundertone, an unending torrent of incoherent blasphemies, as appears tobe the habit of that type of man when frightened. I stepped silentlybehind him and looked over his shoulder at the expiring criminal,speculating on what he would do next. At the moment he was paralyzed andimbecile with terror, and I had a strong inclination to dispatch himthen and there; but the same odd impulse that I had noticed on the lastoccasion constrained me to dally with him. Again I was possessed by astrange, savage playfulness like that which impels a cat or leopard totoy daintily and tenderly with its prey for a while before the finalscrunch.
"We remained thus motionless for more than half a minute in a silencebroken only by his blasphemous mutterings. Then, quite suddenly, hestood up and began to flash his lantern on the stairs and about the halluntil at length its light fell full on my face which was within a footof his own. And at that apparition he uttered a most singular cry, likethat of a young goat, and started back. Another moment and he would haveraised his pistol arm, but I had foreseen this and was beforehand withhim. Even as his hand rose, the concussor struck the outer side of hisarm, between the shoulder and the elbow, on the exact spot where themusculo-spiral nerve turns round the bone. The effect was mostinteresting. The sudden nerve stimulus produced an equally suddencontraction of the extensors. The forearm straightened with a jerk, thefingers shot out straight and the released revolver flew clatteringalong the hall floor.
"Anatomy has its uses even in a midnight scuffle.
"The suddenness of my appearance and the promptness of my actionparalyzed him completely. He stared at me in abject terror and gibberedinarticulately. Only for a few moments, however. Then he turned anddarted towards the street door.
"But I did not mean to let him escape. In a twinkling I was after himand had him by the collar. He uttered a savage snarl and dropped thelamp on the mat to free his hands; and, as the spring switch wasreleased, the light went out, leaving us in total darkness. Now that hewas at bay, he struggled furiously, and I could hear him snorting andcursing as he wriggled in my grasp. I had to drop the concussor that Imight hold him with both hands, and it was well that I did, for hesuddenly got one hand free and struck. It was a vicious blow and had itnot been partly stopped by my elbow the adventure would have ended verydifferently, for I felt the point of a knife sweep across my chest,ripping open my pajama jacket and making a quite unpleasant littleflesh-wound. On this I gripped him round the chest, pinioning both hisarms as well as I could and trying to get possession of the knife, whilehe made frantic struggles to aim another blow.
"So, for awhile we remained locked in a deadly embrace, swaying to andfro, and each straining for the momentary advantage that would havebrought the affair to a finish. The end came unexpectedly.
"One of us tripped on the edge of the mat and we both came down with acrash, he underneath and face downwards. As we fell, he uttered a sharpcry and began to struggle in a curious, convulsive fashion; but after atime he grew quieter and at last lay quite still and silent.
"At first I took this for a ruse to put me off my guard, and held onmore firmly than ever; but presently a characteristic limpness of hislimbs suggested a new idea. Gradually and cautiously I relaxed my hold,and, as he still did not move, I felt about on the mat for the lamp; andwhen I had found it and pushed over the switch I threw its light on him.
"He was perfectly motionless and did not appear to be breathing. Iturned him over and then saw that it was as I had suspected. He had heldthe knife ready for a second blow when I had pinioned him. He was stillgrasping it so when we fell, and the point had entered his own chestnear the middle line, between the fourth and fifth ribs, and had beendriven in up to the very haft by the force of the fall. He must havedied almost instantaneously.
"I stood up and listened. The place was as silent as the grave; aremarkably apt comparison, by the way. The pistol shots had apparentlynot been heard by the police, so there was no fear of interruption fromthat quarter; and as for the maids they were very carefully keeping outof harm's way.
"Still, there was a good deal to do, and not so very much time to do itin. It was now getting on for three o'clock and the sun would be up byfour. Daylight would bring the maids down and everything must be clearbefore they made their appearance.
"I wasted no time. One by one, I conveyed the bodies to the laboratoryand deposited them in the tank, the accommodation of which was barelyequal to the occasion. The sudden death of the first man had ratherpuzzled me, but when I lifted him the explanation was obvious enough.The heavy blow, catching the head obliquely, had dislocated the neck. Sothe concussor was not such a very harmless implement after all.
"The slight traces left in transporting the material to the laboratory,I obliterated with great care, excepting the last man's knife, which Ileft on the mat. Then I changed my pajamas, putting the blood-stainedsuit to soak in the laboratory, strapped up my wound, put on adressing-gown, opened the street door and shut it rather noisily andascended with a candle to the upper floor.
"The housemaid's bedroom door was open and the room empty. I tapped atthe cook's door and elicited a faint scream.
"'Who's that?' a shaky voice demanded.
"'It is I,' was my answer--a stupid answer, by the way, but, of course,they knew my voice. The door opened and the two women appeared, fullydressed but rather disheveled and both very pale.
"'Is anything the matter, sir?' the housemaid asked.
"'Yes,' I replied. 'I think there has been a burglary. I woke in thenight and thought I heard a pistol-shot, but, putting it down to adream, I went to sleep again. Did either of you hear anything?'
"'I thought I heard a pistol go off, sir,' said the cook, 'and so didSusan. That's why she came in here.'
"'Ah!' said I, 'then it was not a dream. Then just now I distinctlyheard the street door shut, so I went down and found the gas alight inthe dining-room and the safe open.'
"'Lor', sir!' exclaimed Susan, 'I hope nothing's been took.' (She spokeexceedingly badly for a good-class housemaid.)
"'That,' said I, 'is what I wish you to find out. Perhaps you will comedown and take a look round. There is no one about now.'
"On this they came down with alacrity, each provided with a candle, allagog, no doubt, to see what success their friends had had. The firsttrace of the intruders was a large blood-stain at the foot of thestairs, at which Susan shied like a horse. There was another stain nearthe street door, and there was the burglar's knife on the mat, which thecook picked up and then dropped with a faint scream. I examined it anddiscovered the letters 'G.B.' cut on the handle.
"'It looks,' I remarked, 'as if the burglars had quarreled. However,that is none of our business. Let us see what has happened to the safe.'
"We went into the dining-room and the two women looked eagerly at theopen safe; but though they both repeated the hope that 'nothing had beentook,' they could hardly conceal their disappointment when they saw thatthe contents were intact. I examined the roughly-made false key withoutcomment but with a significant glance at them which I think theyunderstood; and I overhauled a couple of large carpet bags, neither ofwhich contained anything but the outfit of appliances for the raid.
"'I suppose I ought to communicate with the police,' said I (without theslightest intention of doing anything of the kind).
"'I don't see what good that would do, sir,' said Susan. 'The men isgone and nothing hasn't been took. The police would only come in andturn the place upside down and take
up your time for nothing.'
"Thus Susan Slodger, with a vivid consciousness of the false key, madeexactly the suggestion that I desired. Of course it would never do tohave the police in the house again so soon. I affected to be deeplyimpressed by her sagacity and in the end decided to 'let sleeping dogslie.' Only Susan did not realize how exceedingly soundly they slept.
"It was necessary for me to visit the osteological dealer in the courseof the morning to obtain three suitable skeletons as understudiesaccording to my plan. This was quite indispensable. The dealer's receiptand invoice for three human skeletons was my passport of safety. But Iregretted the necessity. For it was certain that as soon as I was out ofthe house one of these hussies would run off to make inquiries about herfriends; and when it was found that the burglars were missing, theremight be trouble. You can never calculate the actions of women. I didnot suppose that either of them was capable of breaking into thelaboratory. But still, one or both of them might. And if they did, thefat would be in the fire with a vengeance.
"However, it had to be done, and accordingly I set forth afterbreakfast with a spring tape and a note of the measurements in mypocket. Fortunately the dealer had just received a large consignment ofskeletons from Germany (Heaven alone knows whence these German exportersobtain their supply), so I had an ample number to select from; and asthey ran rather small--I suspect they were mostly Frenchmen--I had nodifficulty in matching my specimens, which, as is usual with criminals,were all below the average stature.
"On my return I found that the housemaid was out, 'doing some shopping,'the cook explained. But she returned shortly, and as soon as I saw her Iknew that she had been making 'kind inquiries.' Her manner was mostpeculiar, and so was the cook's for that matter. They were bothprofoundly depressed and anxious; they both regarded me with evidentdislike and still more evident fear. They mumped about the house, silentand restless; they showed an inconvenient desire to keep me in sight andyet they hurried out of the rooms at my approach.
"The housemaid was very much disturbed. When waiting at table, she eyedme incessantly and if I moved suddenly she jumped. Once she dropped asoup tureen merely because I looked at her rather attentively; she wascontinually missing my wine-glass and pouring the claret on to thetable-cloth; and when I tested the edge of a poultry-carver, which hadbecome somewhat blunt, she hurried from the room and I saw her watchingme through the crack of the door.
"The arrival of the 'understudy' skeletons from the dealers a couple ofdays later gave her a terrible shock. I was in the dining-room when theyarrived and through the open door heard what passed; and certainly theincident was not without a humorous side.
"The carrier came to the front door and to Susan, who answered his ring,he addressed himself with the familiarity of his class.
"'Here's three cases for your master. Funny uns, they are, too. He don'thappen to be in the resurrection line, I suppose?'
"'I don't know what you mean,' Susan replied, sourly.
"'You will when you see the cases,' the man retorted. 'Three of 'em,there are. Big uns. Where will you have 'em?'
"Susan came to me for instructions and I directed that they should betaken through to the museum, the door of which I unlocked for thepurpose.
"The appearance of the cases was undeniably funereal, not in shape onlybut also in color; for the dealer, with an ill-timed sense of fitness,had had them painted black. And the effect was heightened by the conductof the two grinning carriers, who bore each case on their shoulders,coffin-wise, and proceeded to the museum at a slow, funereal walk; andwhen I was out of sight, though not out of earshot, I heard the leadingcarrier, who seemed to be somewhat of a humorist, softly whistling the'Dead March in Saul.'
"Meanwhile, Susan Slodger stood in the hall with a face as white as atallow candle. She stared with fearful fascination at the long, blackcases and uttered no sound even when the facetious carrier questionedher as to the destination of 'our dear departed brother.' She wasabsolutely thunderstruck.
"When the carriers had gone I directed her to come to the museum andhelp me to unpack the cases, which she flatly refused to do unlesssupported by the cook. To this, of course, I had no objection, and whenshe went off to the kitchen to fetch her colleague, I took up a positionjust inside the laboratory door and awaited developments. The cases hadhinged lids secured with a simple hook, so that when the binding cordswere cut there would be no difficulty in ascertaining the nature of thecontents.
"The two women came briskly through the lobby, the cook babblingcheerfully and the housemaid silent; but at the museum door they bothstopped short and the former ejaculated, 'Gawd! what's this?'
"Here I stepped out and explained, 'These are some cases of specimensfor the museum. I want you to unfasten the cords. That is all. I willtake out the things myself.' With this I went back to the laboratory;but in less than half a minute I heard a series of shrieks, and the twowomen raced through the lobby and disappeared below stairs.
"After this the position grew worse than ever. Though obviouslyterrified of me, these two women dogged me incessantly. It was mostinconvenient, for the excess of material kept me exceedingly busy; andto make things worse, I had received from Jamrach's (without anorder--but I had to keep the thing) a dead hyena which had been affectedwith _osteitis deformans_. It was a fine specimen and was useful asserving to explain my great preoccupation; but it added to my labors andmade me impatient of interruptions.
"The museum wing had an entrance of its own in a side street for thedelivery of material (such as the hyena), and this gave me some relief;for I could go out of the front door and slip in by the side entrance.But Susan soon discovered this and thereafter was continually banging atthe lobby door to see if I was in. I don't know what she thought. Shewas an ignorant woman and stupid, but I think she vaguely associated mylabors in the laboratory with her absent friends.
"This perpetual spying on my actions became at last intolerable and Iwas on the point of sending the two hussies about their business when anaccident put an end to the state of affairs. I had gone out of the frontdoor and let myself in by the side entrance, but, by some amazinginadvertence, had left the lobby door unfastened; and I had barely goton my apron to begin work when I heard someone enter the lobby. Thencame a gentle tapping at the door of the laboratory. I took no notice,but waited to see what would happen. The tapping was repeated louder andyet louder, and still I made no move. Then, after an interval, I heard awire inserted in the lock.
"I determined to make an end of this. Quietly concealing the material onwhich I was working, I took down from a hook a large butterfly-net (mypoor wife had been interested in Lepidoptera). Very softly I tiptoed tothe door and suddenly flung it open. There stood Susan Slodger with ahair-pin in her hand, absolutely paralyzed with terror. In a moment,before she had time to recover, I had slipped the butterfly-net over herhead.
"That revived her. With a piercing yell she turned and fled, and withsuch precipitancy that she pulled the net off the handle. I saw herflying down the lobby with the net over her head, looking like anoriental bride; I heard the street door bang, and I found the butter-flynet on the doormat. But Susan Slodger I never set eyes on again.
"The cook left me the same day, taking Susan's box with her. It was agreat relief. I now had the house to myself and could work withoutinterruption or the discomfort of being spied upon. As to the productsof my labors, they are fully set forth in the catalogue; and of thisadventure I can only say to the visitor to my museum in the words of thewell-known inscription, '_Si monumentum requiris, circumspice_'."
Such was Challoner's account of his acquisition of the specimensnumbered 2, 3 and 4. The descriptions of the preparations were, as hehad said, set out in dry and precise detail in the catalogue, and someof the particulars were really quite interesting, as, for instance, thefact that "the skull of Number 4 combines an extreme degree ofdolichocephaly (67.5) with a cranial capacity of no more than 1523 cubiccentimeters." It was certainly what one might have expected from hisc
onduct.
But to the general reader the question which will suggest itself is,What was the state of Challoner's mind? Was he mad? Was he wicked? Orhad he merely an unconventional point of view? It is to the latteropinion that I incline after long consideration. He clearly rejected thecriminal as a fellow-creature and regarded himself as a publicbenefactor in eliminating him. And perhaps he was right.
As to the apparently insane pleasure that he took in the actualcaptures, I can only say that sane men take a pleasure in the slaughterof harmless animals--such as the giraffe--for which they have no need;and other sane men actually go abroad and kill--by barbarousmethods--foreign men of estimable character with whom they have noquarrel. This sport they call war and seem to enjoy it. But killing iskilling; and a foreign peasant's life is surely worth more than aBritish criminal's.
This, however, is only an _obiter dictum_ from which many will no doubtdissent.
The Uttermost Farthing Page 3