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Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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She had slipped her hand between the bars
and was scratching the lion between the eyes.
WHEN the wind was in a certain quarter, Kathy could hear the roaring of the lions in Lord Hammersmith's private zoo.
The sound was faint and fitful—little more than an ominous mutter in the distance. She strained her ears to catch it, for she welcomed it even as a sleepless person greets the first cock-crow. To her, also, it was a symbol of hope—telling her that no night could last forever.
Sometime, somewhere, another day would dawn.
Alan—who was superintendent of his uncle's collection of wild animals—was there in the darkness, localized by that snarling cough which throbbed like a nerve in the air. It linked them together in a wireless wave. So long as he was in her life, some glimmer of happiness remained.
Yet when she listened to the steady blast of snores from the other bed, she had to admit the truth. Like the caged lions, she too was behind bars. While her second husband—Hector Mint—lived, she could never be free.
As she lay sleepless, she wondered whether she were being punished for her youthful folly during her first year in a woman's college at Oxford. She had grasped life too adventurously and too greedily. Impatient of the future, she had eloped with a fellow undergraduate.
While she was an orphan, with no one to consider over her marriage, her husband came of a poorish family that resented the wreck of his academic prospects. Therefore, when they flaunted authority, they were left to face the consequences alone.
They took them on the chin, gaily and recklessly. They snaffled odd jobs, loved a little, starved a little and laughed through everything. Una was born without christening mugs or press announcements and was accepted as part of the joke. Eventually, just as Dick was beginning to shape as a promising freelance Journalist, he was killed in a road smash.
In order to provide a home for Una, Kathy started a guest house, which was foredoomed to failure through lack of capital. As she tried to do the work of a staff, she was on the verge of complete collapse when Hector Mint arrived with his offer of a home.
She had known him at Oxford where he was a figure of civic importance whom she regarded as a sort of benevolent uncle. It was not until she married him that she realized the dark jungle of his heart. She discovered that she had always been his secret obsession and that his mind was twisted with jealousy of her first husband.
It was their youth he envied and those mad adventurous years of young love. He could not forget those or forgive the past. Although he gained possession of Dick's widow, the undergraduate triumphed from the grave, because Una was his child. From the first, Kathy had been completely honest with Mint. She made it plain that Una's welfare was her chief consideration, but in return for it, she tried to fulfill her part of the bargain cheerfully and generously. She refused to regard herself as a martyr, for her joyous and elastic spirit persisted. So long as the sun burst through the clouds, or one daisy cropped up in the lawn, she could smile and keep her chin up.
Like her mother, Una could take punishment—and there was plenty of a mean kind for her to take. Although her stepfather provided her with a technically good home, she never had pocket money, parties, presents or pets Fortunately, she was a vigorous, fearless chilc, possessed of a special radiance—probably the heritage of her hearted birth. As Kathy thought of her she tried to forget the snores as they rose in an elephantine trumpet from the other bed.
"I've kept Una," she reminded herself. "I didn't have to lose her to an orphanage. She's worth it all."
SHE came down to breakfast in a gallant mood. There was a rare treat store for Una and herself as Lord Hammersmith had invited them to visit his zoo, that morning.
As she seated herself, she noticed that Una was struggling to eat her porridge without sugar, in token of punishment. Although she boiled inwardly, she never fought Una's battles, as she felt it was better for the child's happiness not to poison the atmosphere with constant quarrels which could do no good.
"Been bad again?" she remarked cheerfully. "Little silly. Well, sailors don't care, do they? I won't have sugar either. If we are too fat, the lions may want to make a meal of us. I heard them roaring in the night. That means fine weather."
"They kept me awake," complained her husband. "That zoo's a scandal. It's a rich man's hobby, or it would be made illegal. It's a source of danger to the district. Eventually one of the wild beasts is bound to escape."
"Escape." The word echoed in Kathy's mind as she gazed at Mint. He was a big burly man with a broad florid face and grizzled curly hair which grew low on his forehead. Twinkling blue eyes gave him a misleading air of geniality which tempered an imposing personality. He looked a model householder and British taxpayer as he read the newspaper and ate the conventional breakfast or bacon and eggs.
The house was family property which had descended through several generations, so the room had the fine proportions and solidity of an earlier age. The old-fashioned furniture was good—the Georgian table sliver shone. Outside the huge windows were lilacs, laburnams and maytrees, tossing in the breeze.
Kathy suppressed a sigh. When nature was so lavish, life could be beautiful, if only one had freedom to enjoy it. Then she thought of Alan whom she was going to see within a few hours—and the smile returned to her lips.
As though he could read her thoughts, Mint spoke.
"Lucky for that young Easter that his line is zoology. He's his uncle's heir on condition that he carries on the zoo. He's made for life. If he doesnt muck about with women. Hammersmith would never stand for a scandal."
His words sounded so suspiciously like a warning that Kathy wondered whether Mint were also Jealous of Alan. She thought she had concealed this new love of hers which was so different from that first selfish rapture of youth. Then, she had wanted to take and share—but now she gave her heart without thought or hope of return.
"No woman who cared for him would let him ruin his life for her," she said.
"You should know how it works out."
As her husband's eyes drilled her face. In an effort to interpret its expression, Una broke the silence.
"Molly Dean's daddy has bought her a lovely big Alsatian dog. May I have a dog, Minty?"
"What did you call me?" asked her stepfather.
"'Daddy'... Can I have a dog, daddy? It needn't be a rich Alsatian. I could find a poor little hungry puppy and bring it home."
"If you do, it will be drowned at once. Animals are dirty and unhealthy. I won't have one in my house."
Una stared at her stepfather with puzzled eyes, as though unable to credit such brutality; but she made no attempt to press her claim.
At that moment, Kathy saw red. Biting her lips to control her anger, she snatched up the newspaper and began to read it mechanically. Mint wiped his mouth and rose from his chair with a jocular warning.
"Keep your eye on Una. There have been ugly accidents at zoos. Remember the lady of Riga who went for a ride on a tiger?"
"What happened to her?" asked Una curiously.
"They returned from the ride with the lady inside—and a smile on the face of the tiger."
Mint grinned like a great feline, while Una joined in his laughter to show that she approved the tiger's sense of humor.
KATHY drove the car over to Lord Hammersmiths estate by way of lanes and secondary roads, so as to enjoy the beauty of the countryside. The memory of that morning would have to be stretched out over so many dreary routine hours, that she wanted to make it nearly perfect. Buttercup-meadows were sheets of gold, glittering in the sunlight—the beechwoods were in new leaf and carpeted with bluebells. Larks sang as they soared and the air held the fragrance of May.
When they reached the lodge gates of Lord Hammersmith's park. Alan was waiting for them on the road. Their greetings were formal—the conventional meeting of any casual young man, on his best behavior, and a married lady who was chaperoned by her small daughter. But no social code could disguise the revealing light in his eyes or the glow in her face.
Freed from domestic tyranny, Kathy reveled in her brief spell of liberty; she felt joyous and reckless of the future as they walked up the chestnut drive.
"Lions, first," commanded Una. "I love cats."
The zoo was a comprehensive collection of wild animals, although their numbers were limited. The specimens were housed in beautiful surroundings, while the beasts were in perfect health and condition as a tribute to Alan's expert knowledge.
The lions lived in semi-natural quarters. At the back of their huge cages were low openings leading to the dens scooped In the sides of a ravine which was guarded with spiked bars. When they reached it, all the animals had withdrawn to the gloom of their lairs, with the exception of one majestic lion who lay close to the bars of the outer cage, blinking in the sunlight.
"May I speak to him?" asked Una eagerly.
As she ran towards the lion house where the keeper was standing, Alan lowered his voice.
"What's the matter with her?" he asked. "Has she been crying?"
Kathy's heart sank at this further proof of a visible change In Una.
"No," she replied, trying to speak lightly. "Una doesn't cry. She's a tough guy and can take it. But there was a spot of bother at breakfast. She wants a dog."
"I'll give her one."
"No. My husband wouldn't let her keep It."
"Why not?"
"I suppose he doesnt like animals."
His lips tightened as he looked down at her. It seemed to him that she had shrunk since their last meeting. Flyweight—instead of featherweight. Her dark hair which she wore in a long curling bob, framed a pale face, now too small for her gray-blue Irish eyes.
"I wish she were mine," he said impulsively.
She knew that he was really thinking of herself. The same instinctive feeling told her that both she and Una could be safe and happy in Alan's care. As she felt herself slipping out to deep waters, she floundered desperately back to the shallows.
"You don't know your luck," she assured him. "Una's like me at her age, and I was a little devil on wheels. I—"
She broke off as Alan gripped her wrist.
"Don't speak or move," he said in a low, strained voice.
Looking up she saw that he was staring at the lion house. The keeper. too. was gazing in the same direction. Their eyes were fixed on Una.
She had slipped her hand between the bars and was scratching the lion between his eyes.
THAT moment seemed to draw itself out to an eternity. Everyone stood as though petrified. The landscape appeared frozen to flat dead shades of blue and green—the trees ceased to wave In the breeze. Kathy felt that the scene could not be real but that they were all confined inside some incredible painting.
Then Una withdrew her hand—and the spell which bound them was snapped. The lion who had been blinking benevolently, became aware of his audience. Turning his head he broke out into a shattering roar as Una scampered back to her mother.
"Cats like being tickled," she explained nonchalantly.
"Yes," agreed Kathy faintly, "but the animals are very shy and nervous. Don't touch them again, or you will frighten them."
"Oh, poor little things." Una's voice was compassionate, "I guess I seem terrible to them, 'cause I've got boots to kick with and they've only got bare feet."
"Go and see the sea lions fed," suggested Alan.
As Una dashed away with the keeper, Kathy spoke to Alan.
"Is that a savage lion?"
"No," replied Alan. "Jupiter's on the tame side. He will let both me and the keeper stroke him. But he wouldn't let a stranger take a liberty."
"He never touched Una."
"I know. I'm still knocked sideways. The whole thing is incredible.... I suppose it was her complete confidence. She must have a natural power over animals. I saw the whole thing. She slipped her hand in between the bars so quietly that she was rubbing him before he realized that it was there. He liked her touch, so he kept quiet. But if we'd startled him, there would have been a ghastly accident. As it was, I expected every second to see him snap her arm off."
"Don't. It was all my fault. I should have watched her. I was warned."
Reaction had set in as she began to feel the effect of her recent shock. While she fought her emotion, Alan's self-control suddenly slipped like a sandbank undermined by the suction of flood water.
"Darling," he said roughly, "you must leave that man. Don't pretend any more. I know it's hell. He's eating you up. You and Una must come with me."
She pushed him away as he tried to take her in his arms.
"No," she said, "my husband would not divorce me, so we could not get married. The scandal would finish you. I won't let another man ruin his prospects for me."
"I have my profession. I can get a job,"
"A job? So did Dick. And he lost it again. Over and over, Oh. my dear, you don't know what it means."
ALL around them was a rolling expanse of park where the zoo buildings were erected. Kathy could see the domed roof of the elephant house in the distance and the glitter of an enormous aviary shining through a belt of trees. Although the house was hidden, its approach was indicated by a vista of shaven turf leading to a square of fountains. Yellow irises fringed the margin of a lake whose glassy surface reflected patches of blue sky.
This vast estate would belong to Alan, in the future, provided he did not blot his copybook. To save him from his own generous impulse, she tried to appear hard and calculating.
"It's a matter of finance, baby. I'm 28, but I'm far older than you in experience. I've been through all this before. I can't risk poverty again, for Una's sake. When I married again, I deliberately chose security, In her interests. We must not meet again. It's not fair to you."
She shuddered involuntarily at a familiar trumpet from the elephant house—reminding her of duty.
"It's not fair either to my husband," the said firmly, staring miserably at a huge leaden statue of Pan, playing inaudible pipes to a greened unicorn. "I made a bargain—and I must keep it."
"You're mad," protested Alan. "You can't go on with it."
"Hush—here's Lord Hammersmith."
IN other circumstances Kathy would have shrunk from the ordeal of meeting the formidable uncle. The peer wore a disreputable hat—burred with fishing flies—and a linen coat with a tangerine rosebud in his buttonhole. His features—verging on the nutcracker—were beakjly aristocratic and his eyes arrogant. Kathy received the imoression that if his family honor were reatened he would cheerfully feed the source of danger to the lions.
When he heard of Una's escapade, he did not conceal his anger.
"Gross negligence," he fumed. "Suppose this child's arm had to be amputated. There would have been an outcry in the press and fools would have howled for a beautiful creature to be destroyed, when he only obeyed his natural instinct."
"So did Una," said Kathy. "She really loves animals."
"Hum. She certainly has the magic touch. I must meet this hypnotic young lady."
As they neared the sea lion's pool, Una ran up with a request,
"I've seen the lions, now I want to see the unicorns."
Kathy was thrilled to remark how her radiance gradually melted Lord Hammersmith's resentment. He made the round with his visitors and at the end of the tour, invited them to stay to lunch.
She declined the invitation for herself, but consented to let Una stay.
"Please send her home when she's demoralized the whole zoo," she said. "I can drive myself back."
After Lord Hammersmith made it clear to his nephew that his duties would not permit him to act as deputy chauffeur to their guest, he did Kathy the honor of acting as her personal escort to the lodge.
"When will you pay us another visit?" he asked.
"Not for a long time," she replied. "I don't like zoos."
"I agree." His worldly old eyes approved her. "They can be dangerous."
She resented the meaning In his voice.
"There is no danger here for me," she said proudly. "Especially when all the poor animals are confined in cages."
"Unhappily, caged animals have been known to escape," remarked Lord Hammersmith grimly.
KATHY drove home recklessly, her eyes blind to the beauty of the apple blossom in cottage gardens and the hedges powdered white with May. After she had garaged the car, she approached the solid gray stone house slowly and reluctantly. The slam of the front door, as it closed behind her, reminded her of the clang of iron bars.
Once again she was caged. The hall was dark after the sunshine as the blind was drawn over the stained glass window. She was about to go up to her bedroom, when she was arrested by an unusual noise.
It was a cross between a rattle and a gasp and sounded somewhat as though a kettle were boiling over. As It appeared to come from her husband's study, she hurried to the door and flung it open.
Mint was slumped back in his chair, fighting lor breath. His face was gray and dripped with sweat—his mouth gaped open like a gasping fish
"He's dying."
As the thought flashed through Kathy's brain, she rushed into the dining room and snatched up the whisky decanter. Supporting her husband's head, she managed to dribble some of the spirit down his throat, drop by drop. It was a slow business, for most of it slopped down his neck, but gradually his heart began to respond to treatment.
After he regained consciousness he recovered rapidly from his fainting fit. By the time the doctor arrived, he was almost normal, although his face was still a bad color. Feeling limp and shaken after her second shock, Kathy left the men together, at her husband's request, and went into the drawing room.
The reek of whisky was still in her nostrils, as, for the first time, she was able to realize the situation, together with its possibilities.
"If I had stayed for lunch—"
She dared not dwell on the consequences, lest she should be compelled to admit the horror of her own regret. As she tried to wrench the thought from her mind, Mint entered the room.
"What did the doctor say?" she asked.
"The verdict is satisfactory," he replied. "My condition is static. I have the family heart. I thought I had escaped. It was an unpleasant experience, but I've had my warning."
"I thought your family were all long-lived."
"That is true. We have iron constitutions, but we suffer from valvular disease. It is chiefly dangerous in case of ignorance. When one knows one's vulnerable, one is naturally careful to avoid violent exertion or shock. All my father's family lived to be 90 or more."
It was in vain that Kathy struggled to force her concern and show a decent interest. She knew that she could not speak naturally, when she thought of the years that stretched ahead. Years and years of dissension and misery. As though he guessed her thoughts, her husband probed her face with his bright little eyes.
"If you had not come in at this minute, you would be a widow," he reminded her.
Suddenly she found courage to make an appeal;
"Hector," she said, "you say you owe your life to me. I am going to ask for something in return for it. A very little thing."
"What?*
"A dog for Una."
"Certainly not. You couldn't have done less than you did, without being a murderess. Are you going to use a normal instinct as a bargain basis?"
"No... but Hector, if we are to have a long life together, it won't be worth living if we cannot put more happiness into it. I must be to blame, too. Will you tell me where I have failed you?"
Mint's smile was add.
"You failed me before you married me," he replied. "You cared more for that wretched youth's little finger than for my whole body. You can't undo the past."
THE following days were charged with misery for Kathy. She knew that If she were to avoid an inevitable crash, her future meetings with Alan must be mere casual encounters, in the presence of others. Such a ban meant that loss of much of her remaining happiness. She suffered as acutely from the sudden deprivation as a drug addict from the abrupt cessation of his source of supply.
Although she tried to appear bright for Una's sake, she felt like a butterfly trying to soar with sodden wings. To add to her depression, the weather changed overnight. A heavy downpour of rain was followed by damp days with a drift of almost invisible moisture. Indoors, every surface was sticky to the touch, while the humidity converted open air exercise into punishment.
Her spirits had sunk to zero on one unusually dark day when the sky was covered with layers of black clouds. The weather was so unnatural and the atmosphere of the house so repressive, that she felt almost suicidal as she glanced at the paper. Its headlines announced the verdict on a woman who was on trial for poisoning her husband. It found her "Guilty"—but owing to the brutality of the man—recommended her to mercy.
Kathy found herself hoping that the woman would get off scot-free. She mooned about in a kind of bad dream where she was only partially conscious of her surroundings. When she paid her morning visit to the kitchen she displayed none of her usual warm humanity which her husband criticized as lack of dignity. As a rule, she took an interest in the maids' remarks, but that day she scarcely heard what they said.
She was also blind to the signs of suppressed excitement in Una during tea-time. The child's face was flushed and her eyes were bright with defiant exultation.
Kathy started nervously when the telephone rang in the hall.
"Expecting a call?" asked Mint.
"No," she replied indifferently.
A MINUTE later the parlor maid appeared to tell her that she was wanted "on the phone." She almost ran from the room, her heart leaping in anticipation. Directly she recognized Alan's voice, it seemed to her, in her strung up condition, to be a prelude to disaster. She felt certain that he was about to rush over and force an issue with Mint
"That you, Kathy?" He spoke breathlessly, as though he shared her excitement. "I'm coming over. At once."
"No." she cried, "you must not come. I don't want you. I—"
"But it's urgent. I've something to tell you."
He rang off before she could protest further. As she laid down the receiver, she looked up to see her husband standing beside her.
"Who was that?" he asked.
"Alan Easter. He says he's coming over."
"And you tried to stop him. Why? Your manner was most odd. Almost vehement. One would think he had designs on our valuables. Is there anything in this house that he covets?"
"Yes," she replied recklessly. "Una."
"Really? Only Una? When this young man arrives. I must have a little enlightening chat with him."
She read the threat underlying his jocose voice. When Alan came he meant to provoke a distressing scene. Indifferent to the drizzle, she rushed from the house and walked up and down the sodden red gravel and squelching lawn.
"I must warn him," she thought. "I must send him away."
As she pushed open the heavy front gate, to see whether the car were in sight she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see the parlor maid who was holding a newspaper over her head te protect her starched frills from the rain.
"Please madam," she said primly, "Cook wants to know what you've done with the joint?"
"Joint?" repeated Kathy blankly. "Why?"
"It's gone, madam. The whole of it—ribs and sirloin together. And Cook wants to know what's for dinner."
The last sentence recalled Kathy to her domestic responsibility. Her husband was a heavy eater and she knew that there would be pandemonium if an inadequate meal were provided.
She must ring up the butcher and arrange for an express delivery, she said. "Perhaps I had better drive over myself. I'll speak to her."
DIRECTLY she opened the front door she became aware that her husband had been informed already of the mystery. He seemed to be holding a kind of furious investigation in the hall, where the staff was colleoted. Una was hiding behind the cook and appeared terrified by his questions.
Kathy flew to her defense.
"Don't be silly, Hector," she said, trying to speak lightly. "Why have you picked on poor Una? She's not responsible for everything that goes wrong. A stray dog must have stolen it.
"Dogs don't open frigidaires," stormed Mint. "Una, did you steal the joint? Now—no lies."
Kathy stared at the child incredulously. To her dismay, Una's face was scarlet and her lids drooped to hide her guilty eyes.
"Yes," she admitted in a shaky voice. "I took It for my dog."
As they all stared at her, she burst into tears.
"I don't care," she sobbed. "He's my dog. 1 found him. I saw him from the staircase window crawling over the back garden. He's all muddy, but he's a lovely big Alsatian when he's clean. I took the joint out to him—and he was so glad.
"Where is he?" shouted Mint.
"In the woodshed. I brought him a pan of water and some straw and I left him in the dark. He's asleep and you're not to disturb him. He's too tired."
Mint's face was livid with rage as he snatched a heavy stick from the hall stand.
"I'll soon have him out," he said to Una. "I warned you I'll have no dog here."
Kathy caught his arm as he strode towards the side door.
"For pity's sake, let the poor creature rest," she said. "Tomorrow we can decide what to do with it."
Without speaking, he flung her aside and went out of the house. As Una rushed after him, the cook caught her up in her arms, where she struggled in a passion of anger and grief. The other well-trained maids looked on in an uncomfortable silence which was broken by the parlor maid.
"Excuse me, madam, there's a car in the drive. Shall I say 'Not at home?'"
Looking up, Kathy saw Alan standing at the open front door. He seemed an answer to prayer as she ran towards him and panted out her tale. He was quick to catch its drift, for he broke into her explanation.
"A big dog? Where?"
"The woodshed in the back garden. That way."
He shouted to her as he sprinted around the side of the house.
"Everyone stay indoors."
Kathy returned to the drawing room and dropped limply down on the divan. For the present, she had forgotten the complications of the situation. She merely accepted the fact that her troubles were over because Alan was there....
Suddenly she opened her eyes at the sound of a long-drawn howl in the distance.
IT was followed by silence. As she waited—listening—her scalp tightened and her temples grew cold. Then the room seemed to break apart and the fragments to whirl around her. Sometimes she knew she was staring at the cream wallpaper—at others her surroundings were blacked out.
After a long while, she became conscious of Alan kneeling beside her and chafing her hands.
"Did you hear?" he whispered.
She nodded.
"Yes, I know. It was a wolf. Is Hector dead?"
"Dead from shock. It never mauled him. I was at his heels and I saw the whole thing. It sprang, but he collapsed first. I called it off at once, but he was dead.... Was his heart weak?"
"Yes."
IN imagination Kathy reconstructed the grim tragedy. The big bully bursting into the shed to drive out an exhausted starving dog, only to be confronted by a nightmare vision; green eyes glowing like points of fire through the gloom and a dark shape reared up to spring.
Then she vaguely realized that Alan was speaking.
"The wolf escaped from our zoo some days ago. I was away on the continent and knew nothing about it until I returned today. I came out to warn you about it, for I was afraid it might be a shock if I told you over the wire. But I suppose you heard the rumors?"
"No... Yes." answered Kathy. "I remember now the maids were excited over something this morning, but I didn't listen."
She broke off with a faint scream.
"Where's Una?"
"In the kitchen with the cook," Alan told her. "I've just been talking to her."
"She might have been killed," shuddered Kathy. "She went in to that wolf. She thought he was an Alsatian dog. Why didnt he attack her?"
"Because he was gorged with meat, besides being exhausted. He was probably glad to be back in shelter. He's used to captivity."
"He sprang at Hector—yet he never touched her?"
Her eyes were awed as though she glimpsed a miracle. Although he did not share her exaltation, Alan felt he could not drag her down to a commonplace level.
"Do you remember how Una stroked the lion?" he asked. "She has a certain quality which wins the instinctive confidence of animals. She is fearless and she loves them. They know that. All the same"—his voice sank to a mutter—"I'm thankful she threw Pluto the joint first."
Then he rose to his feet.
"I must ring up the zoo and have the motor lorry sent out with his cage," he said. My uncle will be glad there was no tragedy. Pluto is an unusually fine specimen and he would have been upset if I had been forced to shoot him."
"No tragedy?" Kathys eye reproached him. "You forget—Hector is—"
As they looked at each other in silence, Una burst into the room. She was transformed with her old radiance which lit up her whole face. Her cheeks were flushed—her eyes beamed with happiness.
"Cook says Minty's dead," she cried Joyously. "I can have a puppy now."
Before Kathy could protest, Alan took the child in his arms.
"Why should we be hypocrites?" he asked. "We can learn from Una. She sees only the truth. You are free."
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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