"From my earliest boyhood I have always
had the strangest hankering for the East. I say strange, because to my
parents it was inexplicable, neither of them having the slightest
leaning in that direction, though to me it seemed the most natural
desire in the world. I was like an alien in a foreign land, longing to
get home. I recollect, as a child, my nurse thought me a beastly uncanny
kid because I loved to lie in bed and listen to the cats howling and
fighting outside. I used to put my head half under the blankets and
imagine I was in my lair in the jungle, and those were the jackals and
panthers prowling around outside." "I suppose you'd been reading adventure books," Uncle Bob said, with a
laugh. "I played at much the same game when I was a youngster, only in
my case it was Redskins." "Possibly," Sir Alister answered with a slight shrug, "only mine wasn't
a game that I played with any other boys, it was a gnawing desire, which
simply had to be satisfied; and the opportunity came. When I was
fourteen, the father of a school friend of mine, who was going out to
India, asked me to go out with him and the boy for the trip. Of course,
I went." "I wonder," the Major remarked, "that you ever came back once you got
there, since you were so frightfully keen." "I was certain I should return," he replied grimly. A pause followed his last words, then Uncle Bob rose and led the way to
the drawing-room, where for the remainder of the evening Sir Alister was
chiefly monopolised by the ladies. *       *       *       *       *

"Well, Maurice," Uncle Bob said, when on the following evening I was
sitting in his study having my usual before-dinner chat with him, "and
how do you like Ethne's future husband?" I hesitated. "I--I really don't know," I replied. "Come, boy," he said, with his whimsical smile, "why not be frank and
own to a very natural jealousy?" "Because," I answered simply, "the feeling Sir Alister Moeran inspires
in me is not jealousy, curiously enough. It's something else, something
indefinable that comes over me now and again. Dogs don't like him, and
that's always a bad sign, to my thinking." My uncle's bushy eyebrows went up slightly. "When did you make this discovery?" "This morning," I replied. "You know I took him and Ethne round the
place. Well, the first thing I noticed was that Mike refused to come
with us, although both Ethne and I called him. As we passed through the
hall he slunk away into the library. I thought it a bit strange, as he's
usually so frantic to go out with me. Still, I didn't attach any
significance to the matter until later, when we visited the kennels. I
don't know why, but one takes it for granted that a man is keen on dogs
somehow and----"

"Isn't Sir Alister?" "They are not keen on him, anyhow," I answered grimly. "They had heard
my voice as we approached and were all barking with delight, but
directly we entered the place there was a dead silence, save for a few
ominous growls from Argo. It was a most extraordinary sight. They all
bristled up, so to speak, sniffing the air though on the scent of
something. I let Bess and Fritz loose, but instead of jumping up, as
they usually do, they hung back and showed the whites of their eyes in a
way I've never seen before. I actually had to whistle to them sharply
several times before they came, and then it was in a slinking manner,
taking good care to put Ethne and me between themselves and Moeran, and
looking askance at him the whole while." "H'm!" murmured the General with puckered brows. "That was certainly
odd, very odd!" "It was," I agreed, warming to the subject, "but there's odder still to
come. I dare say you'll think it all my fancy, but the minute those
animals put their heads up and sniffed in that peculiar way, I
distinctly smelt the musky, savage odour of wild beasts. You know it
well, anyone who has been through a jungle does." Uncle Bob nodded. "I know it, too; 'Musky' is the very word--the smell
of sun-warmed fur. Jove, how it carries me back! I remember once, years
ago, coming upon a litter of lion cubs, in a cave, when I was out in
Africa----"

"Yes! Yes!" I cried eagerly. "And that is what I smelt this morning. Those dogs smelt it, too. They felt that there was something alien,
abnormal in their midst." "That something being--Sir Alister Moeran?" I felt myself flush up under his gaze. I got up and walked about the
room. "I don't understand it," I said doggedly. "I tell you plainly, Uncle
Bob, I don't understand. My impression of the man last night was
'black,' but he's not black, I know that perfectly well, no more than
you or I are, and yet I can't get over the behaviour of those hounds. It wasn't only one of 'em, it was the whole lot. They seemed to regard
him as their natural enemy! And that smell! I'm sure Ethne detected it
too, for she kept glancing about her in a startled, mystified way." "And Sir Alister?" queried the General. "Do you mean to say he did not
notice anything amiss?" I shrugged my shoulders. "He didn't appear to. I called attention myself
to the singular attitude of the hounds, and he said quite casually:
'Dogs never do take to me much.'" Uncle Bob gave a short laugh. "Our friend is evidently not sensitive." He paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then added: "It certainly is
rather curious, but, for Heaven's sake, boy, don't get imagining all
sorts of things!" This nettled me and made me wish I had held my tongue. I was quite aware
that my story might have sounded somewhat fantastic from a stranger;
still, he ought to have known me better than to accuse me of
imagination. I abruptly changed the subject, and shortly after left the
room. But I could not banish from my mind the incident of the morning. I could
not forget the appealing faces of those dogs. Ethne and Sir Alister had
left me there and returned to the house together, and, after their
departure, those poor, dumb beasts had gathered round me in a way that
was absolutely pathetic, licking and fondling my hands, as though
apologising for their previous misconduct. Still, I understood. That
bristling up their spines was precisely the same sensation I had
experienced when I first met Sir Alister Moeran. As I was slowly mounting the stairs on my way up to dress, I heard
someone running up after me, and turned round to find Ethne beside me. "Maurice," she said, rather breathlessly, "tell me, you did not punish
Fritz and Bess for not coming at once when you called them this
morning?" "No," I answered. She gave a nervous little laugh. "I'm glad of that. I thought
perhaps----" She stopped short, then rushed on, "You know how queer
mother is about cats--can't bear one in the room, and how they always
fly out directly she comes in? Well, dogs are the same with Alister. He--he told me so himself.