The Secrets of Dr. Taverner (18 page)

BOOK: The Secrets of Dr. Taverner
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We got Martin back to the house and sat up with him. It was
touch-and-go with that ill-used heart, and we had to drug the
racked nerves into oblivion.

 

Shortly after midnight Taverner went to the window and
looked out.

 

"Come here, Rhodes," he said. "Do you see anything?"

 

I declared that I did not.

 

"It would be a very good thing for you if you did," declared
Taverner. "You are much too fond of treating the thought-forms
that a sick mind breeds as if, because they have no objective
existence, they were innocuous. Now come along and see things
from the viewpoint of the patient."

 

He commenced to beat a tattoo upon my forehead, using a
peculiar syncopated rhythm. In a few moments I became
conscious of a feeling as if a suppressed sneeze were working its
way from my nose up into my skull. Then I noticed a faint
luminosity appear in the darkness without, and I saw that a
greyish-white film extended outside the window. Beyond that I
saw the Death Hound!

 

A shadowy form gathered itself out of the darkness, took a
run towards the window, and leapt up, only to drive its head
against the grey film and fall back. Again it gathered itself
together, and again it leapt, only to fall back baffled. A
soundless baying seemed to come from the open jaws, and in the
eyes gleamed a light that was not of this world. It was not the
green luminosity of an animal, but a purplish grey reflected from
some cold planet beyond the range of our senses.

 

"That is what Martin sees nightly," said Taverner, "only in
his case the thing is actually in the room. Shall I open a way
through the psychic bell jar it is hitting its nose against, and let it
in?"

 

I shook my head and turned away from that nightmare vision.
Taverner passed his hand rapidly across my forehead with a
peculiar snatching movement.

 

"You are spared a good deal," he said, "but never forget that
the delusions of a lunatic are just as real to him as that hound
was to you."

 

We were working in the office next afternoon when I was
summoned to interview a lady who was waiting in the hall. It
was Miss Hallam, and I wondered what had brought her back so
quickly.

 

"The butler tells me that Mr. Martin is ill and I cannot see
him, but I wonder if Dr. Taverner could spare me a few
minutes?"

 

I took her into the office, where my colleague expressed no
surprise at her appearance.

 

"So you have sent back the ring?" he observed.

 

"Yes," she said. "How do you know? What magic are you
working this time?"

 

"No magic, my dear Miss Hallam, only common sense.
Something has frightened you. People are not often frightened to
any great extent in ordinary civilized society, so I conclude that
something extraordinary must have happened. I know you to be
connected with a dangerous man, so I look in his direction. What
are you likely to have done that could have roused his enmity?
You have just been down here, away from his influence, and in
the company of the man you used to care for; possibly you have
undergone a revulsion of feeling. I want to find out, so I express
my guess as a statement; you, thinking I know everything, make
no attempt at denial, and therefore furnish me with the
information I want."

 

"But, Dr. Taverner," said the bewildered girl, "why do you
trouble to do all this when I would have answered your question
if you had asked me?"

 

"Because I want you to see for yourself the way in which it is
possible to handle an unsuspecting person," said he. "Now tell
me what brought you here."

 

"When I got back last night, I knew I could not marry Tony
Mortimer," she said, "and in the morning I wrote to him and told
him so. He came straight round to the house and asked to see
me. I refused, for I knew that if I saw him I should be right back
in his power again. He then sent up a message to say that he
would not leave until he had spoken to me, and I got in a panic. I
was afraid he would force his way upstairs, so I slipped out of
the back door and took the train down here, for somehow I felt
that you understood what was being done to me, and would be
able to help. Of course, I know that he cannot put a pistol to my
head and force me to marry him, but he has so much influence
over me that I am afraid he may make me do it in spite of
myself."

 

"I think," said Taverner, "that we shall have to deal
drastically with Master Anthony Mortimer."

 

Taverner took her upstairs, and allowed her and Martin to
look at each other for exactly one minute without speaking, and
then handed her over to the care of the matron.

 

Towards the end of dinner that evening I was told that a
gentleman desired to see the secretary, and went out to the hall
to discover who our visitor might be. A tall, dark man with very
peculiar eyes greeted me.

 

"I have called for Miss Hallam," he said.

 

"Miss Hallam?" I repeated as if mystified.

 

"Why, yes," he said, somewhat taken aback. "Isn't she here?"

 

"I will enquire of the matron," I answered.

 

I slipped back into the dining-room, and whispered to
Taverner, "Mortimer is here."

 

He raised his eyebrows. "I will see him in the office," he
said.

 

Thither we repaired, but before admitting our visitor,
Taverner arranged the reading lamp on his desk in such a way
that his own features were in deep shadow and practically
invisible.

 

Then Mortimer was shown in. He assumed an authoritative
manner. "I have come on behalf of her mother to fetch Miss
Hallam home," said he. "I should be glad if you would inform
her I am here."

 

"Miss Hallam will not be returning tonight, and has wired her
mother to that effect."

 

"I did not ask you what Miss Hallam's plans were; I asked
you to let her know I was here and wished to see her. I presume
you are not going to offer any objection?"

 

"But I am," said Taverner. "I object strongly."

 

"Has Miss Hallam refused to see me?"

 

"I have not inquired."

 

"Then by what right do you take up this outrageous
position?"

 

"By this right," said Taverner, and made a peculiar sign with
his left hand. On the forefinger was a ring of most unusual
workmanship that I had never seen before.

 

Mortimer jumped as if Taverner had put a pistol to his head;
he leant across the desk and tried to distinguish the shadowed
features, then his gaze fell upon the ring.

 

"The Senior of Seven," he gasped, and dropped back a pace.
Then he turned and slunk towards the door, flinging over his
shoulder such a glance of hate and fear as I had never seen
before. I swear he bared his teeth and snarled.

 

"Brother Mortimer," said Taverner, "the dog returns to its
kennel tonight."

 

"Let us go to one of the upstairs windows and see that he
really takes himself off," went on Taverner.

 

From our vantage point we could see our late visitor making
his way along the sandy road that led to Thursley. To my
surprise, however, instead of keeping straight on, he turned and
looked back.

 

"Is he going to return?" I said in surprise.

 

"I don't think so," said Taverner. "Now watch; something is
going to happen."

 

Again Mortimer stopped and looked around, as if in surprise.
Then he began to fight. Whatever it was that attacked him
evidently leapt up, for he beat it away from his chest; then it
circled round him, for he turned slowly so as to face it. Yard by
yard he worked his way down the road, and was swallowed up in
the gathering dusk.

 

"The hound is following its master home," said Taverner.

 

We heard next morning that the body of a strange man had
been found near Bramshott. It was thought he had died of heart
failure, for there were no marks of violence on his body.

 

"Six miles !" said Taverner. "He ran well!"

 

**********************

 

A Daughter of Pan

 

Taverner looked at a card that had been brought to him.
"Rhodes," he said, "if the County take to calling, I shall put up
the shutters and write `Ichabod' upon them, for I shall know that
the glory is departed. Now what in the name of Beelzebub,
Asmodius, and a few other of my friends to whom you have not
been introduced, does this woman want with me?"

 

Taverner, his methods and his nursing home, were looked
upon askance by the local gentry, and as he, for his part, did not
care to prescribe for measles and influenza, we seldom came
into contact with our neighbours. That my colleague was a man
of profound learning and cosmopolitan polish would have
availed him nothing at the local tea parties, which judge a man
by his capacity to avoid giving offence.

 

A narrow-hipped, thin lipped woman was ushered into the
room. The orderly waves of her golden hair and the perfection of
her porcelain complexion bore evidence to the excellence of her
maid and the care that was devoted to her toilette. Her clothes
had that upholstered effect which is only obtained when the
woman is made to fit the garment, not the garment the woman.

 

"I want to consult you," she said, "about my youngest
daughter, she is a great source of anxiety to us. We fear her mind
is not developing properly."

 

"What are her symptoms?" asked Taverner with his most
professional manner.

 

"She was always a difficult child," said the mother. "We had
a great deal of trouble with her, so different to the others. Finally
we stopped trying to bring her up with them, and got her special
governesses and put her under medical supervision."

 

"Which I suppose included strict discipline," said Taverner.

 

"Of course," said our visitor. "She has been most carefully
looked after; we have left nothing undone, though it has been a
great expense, and I must say that the measures we took have
been successful up to a point; her terrible outbreaks of wildness
and temper have practically ceased, we have seen nothing of
them for a year, but her development seems to have been
arrested."

 

"I must see your daughter before I can give an opinion," said
Taverner.

 

"She is out in the car," said her mother. "I will have her
brought in."

 

She appeared in the care of her governess, who looked the
excellent disciplinarian she was reported to be. As a Prussian
drill sergeant of the old regime, she would have found her
metier. The girl herself was a most curious study. She was
extraordinarily like her mother. There was the same thin figure,
though in the case of the mother the angularities had been
padded out by art, whereas in the daughter they came glaringly
through her garments, which looked as if she had slept in them.
Lank, mouse-coloured hair was wound round her head in heavy
greasy coils; a muddy complexion, fish-like eyes, and general air
of awkwardness and sprawling limbs completed the unpleasing
picture.

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