TMS-Lockwood/Matis--The Monkey's Paw

"Good God, you are mad!" he cried aghast.

But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation--the hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy.

The visitor bowed in assent.

"Morris said the things happened so naturally," said his father, "that you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence."

"I'm afraid it'll turn you into a mean, avaricious man, and we shall have to disown you."

She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other's averted face.

There was an air of prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues.

All of which did not prevent her from scurrying to the door at the postman's knock, nor prevent her from referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits when she found that the post brought a tailor's bill.

Pathway's a bog, and the road's a torrent.

She then waited as patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but he was at first strangely silent.

The new arrival also condoled with himself, so that Mrs. White said, "Tut, tut!" and coughed gently as her husband entered the room, followed by a tall burly man, beady of eye and rubicund of visage.

The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard condoling with the new arrival.

His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their light laughter jarred somewhat.

His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the talisman, as his son, with a solemn face somewhat marred by a wink at his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.

"Hark at the wind," said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from seeing it.

"I was to say that Maw and Meggins disclaim all responsibility," continued the other.

"It moved, he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on the floor.

"I won't," said his friend doggedly.

Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously.

In the business of supper the talisman was partly forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion to a second instalment of the soldier's adventures in India.

"Fancy, I suppose," he said slowly.

"Might drop on his head from the sky," said the frivolous Herbert.

"To look at," said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, "it's just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy."

He gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden.

A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage against the door.

Mrs. White drew back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.

His brow cold with sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his hand.

"Hark at the wind," said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from seeing it.

"It had a spell put on it by an old fakir," said the sergeant-major, "a very holy man.

The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard condoling with the new arrival.

The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whisky and tumblers and stood a small copper kettle on the fire.

There was no reply; the old woman's face was white, her eyes staring, and her breath inaudible; on the husband's face was a look such as his friend the sergeant might have carried into his first action.

Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance between mother and son.

Her husband interposed.

"I'm listening," said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he stretched out his hand.

"They admit no liability at all, but in consideration of your son's services they wish to present you with a certain sum as compensation."

"Sergeant-Major Morris," he said, introducing him.

He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with an antimacassar.

His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the talisman, as his son, with a solemn face somewhat marred by a wink at his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.

"I come from Maw and Meggins."

"I beg that you will understand I am only their servant and merely obeying orders."

The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as he found that he had lost the direction of the door.

The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up his courage, the husband took the box of matches, and striking one, went downstairs for a candle.

Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.

Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.

At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke of strange scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange peoples.

Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.

He gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden.

The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard presumptuous youth.

The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whisky and tumblers and stood a small copper kettle on the fire.

There was an air of prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues.

Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.

He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with an antimacassar.

"Go and get it and wish," cried the old woman, quivering with excitement.

Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.

But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation--the hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy.

A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage against the door.

At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike another, and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be scarcely audible, sounded on the front door.

"Sergeant-Major Morris," he said, introducing him.

The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it in amazement.

She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other's averted face.

"I expect you'll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your bed," said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, "and something horrible squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your ill-gotten gains."

Her husband drew the talisman from his pocket and then all three burst into laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught him by the arm.

Pathway's a bog, and the road's a torrent.

"A trifle," said he, colouring slightly.

There was an air of prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues.

The new arrival also condoled with himself, so that Mrs. White said, "Tut, tut!" and coughed gently as her husband entered the room, followed by a tall burly man, beady of eye and rubicund of visage.

It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw over it.

IN the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the breakfast table Herbert laughed at his fears.

You've not brought bad news, I'm sure, sir" and he eyed the other wistfully.

The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard presumptuous youth.

The old woman with a sudden wrench broke free and ran from the room.