But before I reached the spot, a voice from
the study doorway called: "Stop!" and the next moment the report of a
pistol rang out. "Good God!" I cried. "Who have you shot?" "Not the girl," answered the grim voice of my uncle, "you may trust my
aim for that! I fired at the eyes of the Thing. Here, quick, get lights
and let's see what has happened." But my one and only thought was for Ethne. Moving across to the dark
mass on the floor, I stretched out my hand. My fingers touched a smooth,
fabric-like cloth, but the smell was the smell of fur, the musky,
sun-warmed fur of the jungle! With sickening repugnance, I seized the
Thing by its two broad shoulders and rolled it over. Then I carefully
raised Ethne from the ground. At that moment Giles and a footman
appeared with candles. In silence my uncle took one and came towards me,
the servants with scared, blanched countenances following. The light fell full upon the dead, upturned face of Sir Alister Moeran. His upper lip was drawn back, showing the strong, white teeth. The two
front ones were tipped with blood. Instantly my eyes turned to Ethne's
throat, and there I saw deep, horrible marks, like the marks of a
tiger's fangs; but, thank God, they had not penetrated far enough to do
any serious injury! My uncle's shot had come just in time to save her. "Merely fainted, hasn't she?" he asked anxiously. I nodded. My relief at finding this was so, was too great for words. "Heaven be praised!" I heard him mutter. Then lifting my beautiful,
unconscious burden in my arms, I carried her upstairs to her room. *       *       *       *       *

Can I explain, can anyone explain, the mysterious vagaries of atavism? I
only know that there are amongst us, rare instances fortunately, but
existent nevertheless--men with the souls of beasts. They may be
cognisant of the fact or otherwise. In the case of Sir Alister I feel
sure it was the latter. He had probably no more idea than I what
far-reaching, evil strain it was that came out in his blood and turned
him, every seven years, practically into a vampire. V

THE KISS


The quiet of the deserted building incircled the little, glowing room as
the velvet incircles the jewel in its case. Occasionally faint sounds
came from the distance--the movements of cleaners at work, a raised
voice, the slamming of a door. The man sat at his desk, as he had sat through the busy day, but he had
turned sideways in his seat, the better to regard the other occupant of
the room. She was not beautiful--had no need to be. Her call to him had been the
saner call of mind to mind. That he desired, besides, the passing
benediction of her hands, the fragrance of her corn-gold hair, the sight
of her slenderness: this she had guessed and gloried in. Till now, he
had touched her physical self neither in word nor deed. To-night, she
knew, the barriers would be down; to-night they would kiss. Her quiet eyes, held by his during the spell that had bound them
speechless, did not flinch at the breaking of it. "The Lord made the world and then He made this rotten old office," the
man said quietly. "Into it He put you--and me. What, before that day,
has gone to the making and marring of me, and the making and perfecting
of you, is not to the point. It is enough that we have realised, heart,
and soul, and body, that you are mine and I am yours." "Yes," she said. He fell silent again, his eyes on her hungrily. She felt them and longed
for his touch. But there came only his voice. "I want you. The first moment I saw you I wanted you. I thought then
that, whatever the cost, I would have you. That was in the early days of
our talks here--before you made it so courageously clear to me that it
would never be possible for you to ignore my marriage and come to me. That is still so, isn't it?" She moved slightly, like a dreamer in pain, as again she faced the creed
she had hated through many a sleepless night. "It is so," she agreed. "And because it is so, you are going away
to-morrow." "Yes." They looked at each other across the foot or two of intervening space. It was a look to bridge death with. But even beneath their suffering,
her eyes voiced the tremulous waiting of her lips. At last he found words. "You are the most wonderful woman in the world--the pluckiest, the most
completely understanding; you have the widest charity. I suppose I ought
to thank you for it all; I can't--that's not my way. I have always
demanded of you, demanded enormously, and received my measure pressed
down and running over. Now I am going to ask this last thing of you:
will you, of your goodness, go away--upstairs, anywhere--and come back
in ten minutes' time? By then I shall have cleared out." She looked at him almost incredulously, lips parted. Suddenly she seemed
a child. "You--I----" she stammered. Then rising to her feet, with a superb
simplicity: "But, you must kiss me before you go. You must! You--simply
_must_." For the space of a flaming moment it seemed that in one stride he would
have crossed to her side, caught and held her. "For God's sake----!" he muttered, in almost ludicrous fear of himself. Then, with a big effort, he regained his self-control. "Listen," he said hoarsely. "I want to kiss you so much that I daren't
even get to my feet. Do you understand what that means? Think of it,
just for a moment, and then realise that _I am not going to kiss you_. And I have kissed many women in my time, too, and shall kiss more, no
doubt." "But it's not because of that----?" "That I'm holding back? No. Neither is it because I funk the torture of
kissing you once and letting you go. It's because I'm afraid--for
_you_." "For me?" "Listen. You have unfolded your beliefs to me and, though I don't hold
them--don't attempt to live up to your lights--the realisation of them
has given me a reverence for you that you don't dream of. I have put you
in a shrine and knelt to you; every time you have sat in that chair and
talked with me, I have worshipped you." "It would not alter--all that," the girl said faintly, "if you kissed
me." "I don't believe that; neither do you--no, you don't! In your heart of
hearts you admit that a woman like you is not kissed for the first and
last time by a man like me. Suppose I kissed you now? I should awaken
something in you as yet half asleep. You're young and pulsing with life,
and there are--thank Heaven!--few layers of that damnable young-girl
shyness over you. The world would call you primitive, I suppose." "But I don't----"

"Oh, Lord, you must see it's all or nothing! You surely understand that
after I had left you you would not go against your morality, perhaps,
but you would adjust it, in spite of yourself, to meet your desires! I
cannot--safely--kiss you." "But you are going away for good!" "For good! Child, do you think my going will be your safeguard? If you
wanted me so much that you came to think it was right and good to want
me, wouldn't you find me, send for me, call for me? And I should come. God!