The grating clanged back as I released
it, and an instant later I heard the shuffle of the Turkish slippers in
the passage, and the slam of the distant door. Then everything was
silent. The creature had never moved during this time. He lay still in the
corner, and his tail had ceased switching. This apparition of a man
adhering to his bars and dragged screaming across him had apparently
filled him with amazement. I saw his great eyes staring steadily at
me. I had dropped the lantern when I seized the bars, but it still
burned upon the floor, and I made a movement to grasp it, with some
idea that its light might protect me. But the instant I moved, the
beast gave a deep and menacing growl. I stopped and stood still,
quivering with fear in every limb. The cat (if one may call so fearful
a creature by so homely a name) was not more than ten feet from me. The eyes glimmered like two disks of phosphorus in the darkness. They
appalled and yet fascinated me. I could not take my own eyes from
them. Nature plays strange tricks with us at such moments of
intensity, and those glimmering lights waxed and waned with a steady
rise and fall. Sometimes they seemed to be tiny points of extreme
brilliancy--little electric sparks in the black obscurity--then they
would widen and widen until all that corner of the room was filled with
their shifting and sinister light. And then suddenly they went out
altogether. The beast had closed its eyes. I do not know whether there may be any
truth in the old idea of the dominance of the human gaze, or whether
the huge cat was simply drowsy, but the fact remains that, far from
showing any symptom of attacking me, it simply rested its sleek, black
head upon its huge forepaws and seemed to sleep. I stood, fearing to
move lest I should rouse it into malignant life once more. But at
least I was able to think clearly now that the baleful eyes were off
me. Here I was shut up for the night with the ferocious beast. My own
instincts, to say nothing of the words of the plausible villain who
laid this trap for me, warned me that the animal was as savage as its
master. How could I stave it off until morning? The door was
hopeless, and so were the narrow, barred windows. There was no shelter
anywhere in the bare, stone-flagged room. To cry for assistance was
absurd. I knew that this den was an outhouse, and that the corridor
which connected it with the house was at least a hundred feet long. Besides, with the gale thundering outside, my cries were not likely to
be heard. I had only my own courage and my own wits to trust to. And then, with a fresh wave of horror, my eyes fell upon the lantern. The candle had burned low, and was already beginning to gutter. In ten
minutes it would be out. I had only ten minutes then in which to do
something, for I felt that if I were once left in the dark with that
fearful beast I should be incapable of action. The very thought of it
paralysed me. I cast my despairing eyes round this chamber of death,
and they rested upon one spot which seemed to promise I will not say
safety, but less immediate and imminent danger than the open floor. I have said that the cage had a top as well as a front, and this top
was left standing when the front was wound through the slot in the
wall. It consisted of bars at a few inches' interval, with stout wire
netting between, and it rested upon a strong stanchion at each end. It
stood now as a great barred canopy over the crouching figure in the
corner. The space between this iron shelf and the roof may have been
from two or three feet. If I could only get up there, squeezed in
between bars and ceiling, I should have only one vulnerable side. I
should be safe from below, from behind, and from each side. Only on
the open face of it could I be attacked. There, it is true, I had no
protection whatever; but at least, I should be out of the brute's path
when he began to pace about his den. He would have to come out of his
way to reach me. It was now or never, for if once the light were out
it would be impossible. With a gulp in my throat I sprang up, seized
the iron edge of the top, and swung myself panting on to it. I writhed
in face downwards, and found myself looking straight into the terrible
eyes and yawning jaws of the cat. Its fetid breath came up into my
face like the steam from some foul pot. It appeared, however, to be rather curious than angry. With a sleek
ripple of its long, black back it rose, stretched itself, and then
rearing itself on its hind legs, with one forepaw against the wall, it
raised the other, and drew its claws across the wire meshes beneath me. One sharp, white hook tore through my trousers--for I may mention that
I was still in evening dress--and dug a furrow in my knee. It was not
meant as an attack, but rather as an experiment, for upon my giving a
sharp cry of pain he dropped down again, and springing lightly into the
room, he began walking swiftly round it, looking up every now and again
in my direction. For my part I shuffled backwards until I lay with my
back against the wall, screwing myself into the smallest space
possible. The farther I got the more difficult it was for him to
attack me. He seemed more excited now that he had begun to move about, and he ran
swiftly and noiselessly round and round the den, passing continually
underneath the iron couch upon which I lay. It was wonderful to see so
great a bulk passing like a shadow, with hardly the softest thudding of
velvety pads. The candle was burning low--so low that I could hardly
see the creature. And then, with a last flare and splutter it went out
altogether. I was alone with the cat in the dark! It helps one to face a danger when one knows that one has done all that
possibly can be done. There is nothing for it then but to quietly
await the result. In this case, there was no chance of safety anywhere
except the precise spot where I was. I stretched myself out,
therefore, and lay silently, almost breathlessly, hoping that the beast
might forget my presence if I did nothing to remind him. I reckoned
that it must already be two o'clock. At four it would be full dawn. I
had not more than two hours to wait for daylight. Outside, the storm was still raging, and the rain lashed continually
against the little windows. Inside, the poisonous and fetid air was
overpowering. I could neither hear nor see the cat. I tried to think
about other things--but only one had power enough to draw my mind from
my terrible position. That was the contemplation of my cousin's
villainy, his unparalleled hypocrisy, his malignant hatred of me. Beneath that cheerful face there lurked the spirit of a mediaeval
assassin. And as I thought of it I saw more clearly how cunningly the
thing had been arranged. He had apparently gone to bed with the
others. No doubt he had his witness to prove it. Then, unknown to
them, he had slipped down, had lured me into his den and abandoned me. His story would be so simple.