The Green Eyes of Bâst | Page 4

in the direction of the patch of shadow for
several moments. It may be said that there was nothing to occasion
alarm or even curiosity in the appearance of a stray pedestrian at that
hour; for it was little after midnight. Indeed thus I argued with myself,
whereby I admit that at sight of that figure I had experienced a
sensation which was compounded not only of alarm and curiosity but
also of some other emotion which even now I find it hard to define.
Instantly I knew that the lithe shape, glimpsed but instantaneously, was
that of no chance pedestrian--was indeed that of no ordinary being. At
the same moment I heard again, unmistakably, the howling of a dog.
Having said so much, why should I not admit that, turning again very
quickly, I hurried on to the gate of my cottage and heaved a great sigh
of relief when I heard the reassuring bang of the door as I closed it
behind me? Coates, my batman, had turned in, having placed a cold
repast upon the table in the little dining-room; but although I required

nothing to eat I partook of a stiff whisky and soda, idly glancing at two
or three letters which lay upon the table.
They proved to contain nothing of very great importance, and having
smoked a final cigarette, I turned out the light in the dining-room and
walked into the bedroom--for the cottage was of bungalow pattern--and,
crossing the darkened room, stood looking out of the window.
It commanded a view of a little kitchen-garden and beyond of a high
edge, with glimpses of sentinel trees lining the main road. The wind
had dropped entirely, but clouds were racing across the sky at a
tremendous speed so that the nearly full moon alternately appeared and
disappeared, producing an ever-changing effect of light and shadow. At
one moment a moon-bathed prospect stretched before me as far as the
eye could reach, in the next I might have been looking into a cavern as
some angry cloud swept across the face of the moon to plunge the
scene into utter darkness.
And it was during such a dark spell and at the very moment that I
turned aside to light the lamp that I saw the eyes.
From a spot ten yards removed, low down under the hedges bordering
the garden, they looked up at me--those great, glittering cat's eyes, so
that I stifled an exclamation, drawing back instinctively from the
window. A tiger, I thought, or some kindred wild beast, must have
escaped from captivity. And so rapidly does the mind work at such
times that instinctively I had reviewed the several sporting pieces in my
possession and had selected a rifle which had proved serviceable in
India ere I had taken one step towards the door.
Before that step could be taken the light of the moon again flooded the
garden; and although there was no opening in the hedge by which even
a small animal could have retired, no living thing was in sight! But,
near and remote, dogs were howling mournfully.
CHAPTER II
THE SIGN OF THE CAT

When Coates brought in my tea, newspapers and letters in the morning,
I awakened with a start, and:
"Has there been any rain during the night, Coates?" I asked.
Coates, whose unruffled calm at all times provided an excellent
sedative, replied:
"Not since a little before midnight, sir."
"Ah!" said I, "and have you been in the garden this morning, Coates?"
"Yes, sir," he replied, "for raspberries for breakfast, sir."
"But not on this side of the cottage?"
"Not on this side."
"Then will you step out, Coates, keeping carefully to the paths, and
proceed as far as the tool-shed? Particularly note if the beds have been
disturbed between the hedge and the path, but don't make any marks
yourself. You are looking for spoor, you understand?"
"Spoor? Very good, sir. Of big game?"
"Of big game, yes, Coates."
Unmoved by the strangeness of his instructions, Coates, an
object-lesson for those who decry the excellence of British Army
disciplinary methods, departed.
It was with not a little curiosity and interest that I awaited his report. As
I sat sipping my tea I could hear his regular tread as he passed along the
garden path outside the window. Then it ceased and was followed by a
vague muttering. He had found something. All traces of the storm had
disappeared and there was every indication of a renewal of the
heat-wave; but I knew that the wet soil would have preserved a perfect
impression of any imprint made upon it on the previous night.
Nevertheless, with the early morning sun streaming into my window

out of a sky as near to turquoise as I had ever seen it