The Monkeys Paw | Page 3

hand like a snake."
"Well, I don't see the money," said his son as he picked it up and placed
it on the table, "and I bet I never shall."
"It must have been your fancy, father," said his wife, regarding him
anxiously.
He shook his head. "Never mind, though; there's no harm done, but it
gave me a shock all the same."
They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes.
Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started
nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual
and depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old couple
rose to retire for the night.
"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."
He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing faces
in it. The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it in
amazement.' 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. His hand
grasped the monkey's paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand on

his coat and went up to bed.

II.
In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the
breakfast table he laughed at his fears. 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.
"I suppose all old soldiers are the same," said Mrs. White. "The idea of
our listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these
days? And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you,
father?"
"Might drop on his head from the sky," said the frivolous Herbert.
"Morris said the things happened so naturally," said' his father, "that
you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence."
"Well, don't break into the money before I come back," said Herbert as
he rose from the table. "I'm afraid it'll turn you into a mean, avaricious
man, and we shall have to disown you."
His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down
the road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the
expense of her husband's credulity. 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.
"Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he
comes home," she said, as they sat at dinner.
"I dare say," said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; "but for
all that, the thing moved in my hand; that I'll swear to."

"You thought it did," said the old lady soothingly.
"I say it did," replied the other. "There was no thought about it; I had
just---- What's the matter?"
His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements
of a man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house,
appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental
connection with the two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger
was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he
paused at the gate, and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood
with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and
walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands
behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put that
useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair.
She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. 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. She then waited as
patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but
he was at first strangely silent.
"I--was asked to call," he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece of
cotton from his trousers. "I come from 'Maw and Meggins.'"
The old lady started. "Is anything the matter?" she asked, breathlessly.
"Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is it?"
Her husband interposed.