Round the Fire Stories

“No—but deeply disappointed.”

He looked in astonishment at the splinters of glass, and the brown handlying upon the floor.

“Good God!” he cried. “What is this?”

I told him my idea and its wretched sequel. He listened intently, butshook his head.

“It was well thought of,” said he, “but I fear that there is no sucheasy end to my sufferings. But one thing I now insist upon. It is thatyou shall never again upon any pretext occupy this room. My fears thatsomething might have happened to you—when I heard that crash—have beenthe most acute of all the agonies which I have undergone. I will notexpose myself to a repetition of it.”

He allowed me, however, to spend the remainder of that night where Iwas, and I lay there worrying over the problem and lamenting my ownfailure. With the first light of morning there was the Lascar’s handstill lying upon the floor to remind me of my fiasco. I lay looking atit—and as I lay suddenly an idea flew like a bullet through my head andbrought me quivering with excitement out of my couch. I raised the grimrelic from where it had fallen. Yes, it was indeed so. The hand was the_left_ hand of the Lascar.

By the first train I was on my way to town, and hurried at once to theSeamen’s Hospital. I remembered that both hands of the Lascar had beenamputated, but I was terrified lest the precious organ which I was insearch of might have been already consumed in the crematory. My suspensewas soon ended. It had still been preserved in the _post-mortem_ room.And so I returned to Rodenhurst in the evening with my missionaccomplished and the material for a fresh experiment.

But Sir Dominick Holden would not hear of my occupying the laboratoryagain. To all my entreaties he turned a deaf ear. It offended his senseof hospitality, and he could no longer permit it. I left the hand,therefore, as I had done its fellow the night before, and I occupied acomfortable bedroom in another portion of the house, some distance fromthe scene of my adventures.

But in spite of that my sleep was not destined to be uninterrupted. Inthe dead of night my host burst into my room, a lamp in his hand. Hishuge gaunt figure was enveloped in a loose dressing-gown, and his wholeappearance might certainly have seemed more formidable to a weak-nervedman than that of the Indian of the night before. But it was not hisentrance so much as his expression which amazed me. He had turnedsuddenly younger by twenty years at the least. His eyes were shining,his features radiant, and he waved one hand in triumph over his head. Isat up astounded, staring sleepily at this extraordinary visitor. Buthis words soon drove the sleep from my eyes.

“We have done it! We have succeeded!” he shouted. “My dear Hardacre, howcan I ever in this world repay you?”

“You don’t mean to say that it is all right?”

“Indeed I do. I was sure that you would not mind being awakened to hearsuch blessed news.”

“Mind! I should think not indeed. But is it really certain?”

“I have no doubt whatever upon the point. I owe you such a debt, my dearnephew, as I have never owed a man before, and never expected to. Whatcan I possibly do for you that is commensurate? Providence must havesent you to my rescue. You have saved both my reason and my life, foranother six months of this must have seen me either in a cell or acoffin. And my wife—it was wearing her out before my eyes. Never could Ihave believed that any human being could have lifted this burden offme.” He seized my hand and wrung it in his bony grip.

“It was only an experiment—a forlorn hope—but I am delighted from myheart that it has succeeded. But how do you know that it is all right?Have you seen something?”

He seated himself at the foot of my bed.

“I have seen enough,” said he. “It satisfies me that I shall be troubledno more. What has passed is easily told. You know that at a certain hourthis creature always comes to me. To-night he arrived at the usual time,and aroused me with even more violence than is his custom. I can onlysurmise that his disappointment of last night increased the bitternessof his anger against me. He looked angrily at me, and then went on hisusual round. But in a few minutes I saw him, for the first time sincethis persecution began, return to my chamber. He was smiling. I saw thegleam of his white teeth through the dim light. He stood facing me atthe end of my bed, and three times he made the low Eastern salaam whichis their solemn leave-taking. And the third time that he bowed he raisedhis arms over his head, and I saw his _two_ hands outstretched in theair. So he vanished, and, as I believe, for ever.”

* * * * *

So that is the curious experience which won me the affection and thegratitude of my celebrated uncle, the famous Indian surgeon. Hisanticipations were realized, and never again was he disturbed by thevisits of the restless hillman in search of his lost member. SirDominick and Lady Holden spent a very happy old age, unclouded, so faras I know, by any trouble, and they finally died during the greatinfluenza epidemic within a few weeks of each other. In his lifetime healways turned to me for advice in everything which concerned thatEnglish life of which he knew so little; and I aided him also in thepurchase and development of his estates. It was no great surprise to me,therefore, that I found myself eventually promoted over the heads offive exasperated cousins, and changed in a single day from ahard-working country doctor into the head of an important Wiltshirefamily. I at least have reason to bless the memory of the man with thebrown hand, and the day when I was fortunate enough to relieveRodenhurst of his unwelcome presence.

THE FIEND OF THE COOPERAGE

It was no easy matter to bring the _Gamecock_ up to the island, for theriver had swept down so much silt that the banks extended for many milesout into the Atlantic. The coast was hardly to be seen when the firstwhite curl of the breakers warned us of our danger, and from thereonwards we made our way very carefully under mainsail and jib, keepingthe broken water well to the left, as is indicated on the chart. Morethan once her bottom touched the sand (we were drawing something undersix feet at the time), but we had always way enough and luck enough tocarry us through. Finally, the water shoaled very rapidly, but they hadsent a canoe from the factory, and the Krooboy pilot brought us withintwo hundred yards of the island. Here we dropped our anchor, for thegestures of the negro indicated that we could not hope to get anyfarther. The blue of the sea had changed to the brown of the river, and,even under the shelter of the island, the current was singing andswirling round our bows. The stream appeared to be in spate, for it wasover the roots of the palm trees, and everywhere upon its muddy, greasysurface we could see logs of wood and debris of all sorts which had beencarried down by the flood.

When I had assured myself that we swung securely at our moorings, Ithought it best to begin watering at once, for the place looked as if itreeked with fever. The heavy river, the muddy, shining banks, the brightpoisonous green of the jungle, the moist steam in the air, they were allso many danger signals to one who could read them. I sent the long-boatoff, therefore, with two large hogsheads, which should be sufficient tolast us until we made St. Paul de Loanda. For my own part I took thedinghy and rowed for the island, for I could see the Union Jackfluttering above the palms to mark the position of Armitage and Wilson’strading station.

When I had cleared the grove, I could see the place, a long, low,whitewashed building, with a deep verandah in front, and an immense pileof palm oil barrels heaped upon either flank of it. A row of surf boatsand canoes lay along the beach, and a single small jetty projected intothe river. Two men in white suits with red cummerbunds round theirwaists were waiting upon the end of it to receive me. One was a largeportly fellow with a greyish beard. The other was slender and tall, witha pale pinched face, which was half concealed by a great mushroom-shapedhat.

“Very glad to see you,” said the latter, cordially. “I am Walker, theagent of Armitage and Wilson. Let me introduce Dr. Severall of the samecompany. It is not often we see a private yacht in these parts.”

“She’s the _Gamecock_,” I explained. “I’m owner and captain—Meldrum isthe name.”

“Exploring?” he asked.

“I’m a lepidopterist—a butterfly-catcher. I’ve been doing the west coastfrom Senegal downwards.”

“Good sport?” asked the Doctor, turning a slow yellow-shot eye upon me.

“I have forty cases full. We came in here to water, and also to see whatyou have in my line.”

These introductions and explanations had filled up the time whilst mytwo Krooboys were making the dinghy fast. Then I walked down the jettywith one of my new acquaintances upon either side, each plying me withquestions, for they had seen no white man for months.