Tales of terror
of shame and humiliation. But suddenly he darted at me, and I heard
him say: “What do you mean by creating such a scene as this? You must
understand I am master here.” Then he struck me a violent blow on the
head, and there was a long blank.
‘When I came to my senses I was in bed, and the hideous old hag who
opened the door to you was bending over me. It was some little time
before I could realise what had occurred. When I did, I asked the woman
where Mr. Redcar was, and she answered sullenly:
‘“Gone.”
‘“And the ---- Annette; where is she?” I asked.
‘“Gone, too,” was the answer.
‘Another blank ensued. I fell very ill, and when my brain was capable
of coherent thought again I learnt that I had passed through a crisis,
and my life had been in jeopardy. A doctor had been attending me,
and there was a professional nurse in the house; but she was a hard,
dry, unsympathetic woman, and I came to the conclusion--wrongly so,
probably--she, too, was one of Annette’s creatures.
‘I was naturally puzzled to understand why none of my relatives and
friends had been to see me, but I was to learn later that many had
called, but had been informed I was abroad with my husband, who had
been summoned away suddenly in connection with some professional
matters. And I also know now that all letters coming for me were at
once forwarded to him, and that any requiring answers he answered.
‘As I grew stronger I made up my mind to keep my own counsel, and not
let any of my friends know of what I had gone through and suffered;
for I still loved my husband, and looked upon him as a victim to be
pitied and rescued from the infernal wiles of the she-demon. When I
heard of your arrival in England, I felt you were the one person in the
wide world I could appeal to with safety, for you can understand how
anxious I am to avoid a scandal. Will you help me? Will you save your
old friend Jack? Restore him to sanity, doctor, and bring him back to
my arms again, which will be wide open to receive him.’
I listened to poor Mrs. Redcar’s story patiently, and at first was
disposed to look upon it as a too common tale of human weakness. Jack
Redcar had fallen into the power of an adventuress, and had been unable
to resist her influence. Such things had happened before, such things
will happen again, I argued with myself. There are certain women who
seem capable of making men mad for a brief space; but under proper
treatment they come to their senses quickly, and blush with shame as
they think of their foolishness. At any rate, for the sake of my old
friend, and for the sake of his poor suffering little wife, I was
prepared to do anything in reason to bring back the erring husband to
his right senses.
I told Mrs. Redcar this. I told her I would redress her wrongs if I
could, and fight her battle to the death. She almost threw herself at
my feet in her gratitude. But when I suggested that I should acquaint
her family with the facts, she begged of me passionately not to do so.
Her one great anxiety was to screen her husband. One thing, however, I
insisted upon. That was, the old woman should be sent away, the house
shut up, and that Mrs. Redcar should take apartments in an hotel, so
that I might be in touch with her. She demurred to this at first, but
ultimately yielded to my persuasion.
Next I went to the old woman. She was a German Suisse--her name was
Grebert. I told her to pack up her things and clear out at once. She
laughed in my face, and impertinently told me to mind my own business.
I took out my watch and said, ‘I give you half an hour. If you are not
off the premises then, I will call in the police and have you turned
out. Any claim you have on Mrs. Redcar, who is the mistress here--shall
be settled at once.’
She replied that she did not recognise my authority, that she had been
placed there by Mr. Redcar, who was her master, and unless he told her
to go she should remain. I made it plain to her that I was determined
and would stand no nonsense. Mr. Redcar had taken himself off, I said;
Mrs. Redcar was his lawful wife, and I was acting for her and on her
behalf.
My arguments prevailed, and after some wrangling the hag came to the
conclusion that discretion was the better part of valour, and consented
to go providing we paid her twenty pounds. This we decided to do rather
than have a scene, but three hours passed before we saw the last of
the creature. Mrs. Redcar had already packed up such things as she
required, and when I had seen the house securely fastened up I procured
a cab, and conveyed the poor little lady to a quiet West-end hotel,
close to my own residence, so that I could keep a watchful eye upon her.
Of course, this was only the beginning of the task I had set myself,
which was to woo back the erring husband, if possible, to his wife’s
side, and to restore him to the position of happiness, honour, and
dignity from which he had fallen. I thought this might be comparatively
easy, and little dreamed of the grim events that were to follow my
interference.
Three weeks later I was in Paris, and proceeded to the Hotel de
l’Univers, where Mrs. Redcar had ascertained through his bankers her
husband was staying. But to my chagrin, I found he had departed with
his companion, and the address he had given for his letters at the
post-office was Potes, in Spain. As I had taken up the running I had
no alternative but to face the long, dreary journey in pursuit of the
fugitives, or confess defeat at the start.
It is not necessary for me to dwell upon that awful journey in the
winter time. Suffice to say I reached my destination in due course.
Potes, it is necessary to explain, is a small town magnificently
situated in the Liebana Valley, in the Asturian Pyrenees, under the
shadow of Picos de Europa. Now, what struck me as peculiar was the
fugitives coming to such a place at that time of the year. Snow lay
heavily everywhere. The cold was intense. For what reason had such a
spot been chosen? It was a mystery I could not hope to solve just then.
There was only one small hotel in the village, and there Annette and
Redcar were staying. My first impulse was not to let them know of my
presence, but to keep them under observation for a time. I dismissed
that thought as soon as formed, for I was not a detective, and did not
like the idea of playing the spy. But even had I been so disposed,
there would have been a difficulty about finding accommodation.
Moreover, it was a small place, and the presence of a foreigner at
that time of year must necessarily have caused a good deal of gossip.
The result was I went boldly to the hotel, engaged a room, and then
inquired for Redcar. I was directed to a private room, where I found
him alone. My unexpected appearance startled him, and when he realised
who I was, he swore at me, and demanded to know my business.
He had altered so much that in a crowd I really might have had some
difficulty in recognising him. His face wore a drawn, anxious, nervous
look, and his eyes had acquired a restless, shifty motion, while his
hair was already streaked with grey.
I began to reason with him. I reminded him of our old friendship, and
I drew a harrowing picture of the sufferings of his dear, devoted,
beautiful little wife.
At first he seemed callous; but presently he grew interested, and when
I referred to his wife he burst into tears. Then suddenly he grasped my
wrist with a powerful grip, and said:
‘Hush! Annette mustn’t know this--mustn’t hear. I tell you, Peter, she
is a ghoul. She sucks my blood. She has woven a mighty spell about me,
and I am powerless. Take me away; take me to dear little Maude.’
I looked at him for some moments with a keen professional scrutiny, for
his manner and strange words were not those of sanity. I determined to
take him at his word, and, if possible, remove him from the influence
of the wicked syren who had so fatally lured him.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘we will go without a moment’s unnecessary delay. I will
see if a carriage and post-horses are to be had, so that we can drive
to the nearest railway station.’
He assented languidly to this, and I rose with the intention of making
inquiries of the hotel people; but simultaneously with my action
the door opened and Annette appeared. Up to that moment I thought
that Mrs. Redcar had exaggerated in describing her, therefore I was
hardly prepared to find that so far from the description being an
exaggeration, it had fallen short of the fact.
Annette was slightly above the medium height, with a well-developed
figure, but a face that to me was absolutely repellent. There was not
a single line of beauty nor a trace of womanliness in it. It was hard,
coarse, cruel, with thin lips drawn tightly over even white teeth.
And the eyes were the most wonderful eyes I have ever seen in a human
being. Maude was right when she spoke of them as ‘oily eyes.’ They
literally shone with a strange, greasy lustre, and were capable of
such a marvellous expression that I felt myself falling under their
peculiar fascination. I am honest and frank enough to say that, had it
been her pleasure, I believe she could have lured me to destruction as
she had lured my poor friend. But I was forearmed, because forewarned.
Moreover, I fancy I had a much stronger will than Redcar. Anyway, I
braced myself up to conquer and crush this human serpent, for such I
felt her to be.
Before I could speak, her melodious voice rang out with the query,
addressed to Jack:
‘Who is this gentleman? Is he a friend of yours?’
‘Yes, yes,’ gasped Jack, like one who spoke under the influence of a
nightmare.
She bowed and smiled, revealing all her white teeth, and she held forth
her hand to me, a delicately shaped hand, with clear, transparent skin,
and her long lithe fingers were bejewelled with diamonds.
I drew myself up, as one does when a desperate effort is needed, and,
refusing the proffered hand, I said:
‘Madame, hypocrisy and deceit are useless. I am a medical man, my name
is Peter Haslar, and Mr. Redcar and I have been friends from youth.
I’ve come here to separate him from your baneful influence and carry
him back to his broken-hearted wife. That is my mission. I hope I have
made it clear to you?’
She showed not the slightest sign of being disturbed, but smiled on me
again, and bowed gracefully and with the most perfect self-possession.
And speaking in a soft gentle manner, which was in such startling
contrast to the woman’s appearance, she said:
‘Oh, yes; thank you. But, like the majority of your countrymen, you
display a tendency to arrogate too much to yourself. I am a Spaniard
myself, by birth, but cosmopolitan by inclination, and, believe me, I
do not speak with any prejudice against your nationality, but I have
yet to learn, sir, that you have any right to constitute yourself Mr.
Redcar’s keeper.’
Her English was perfect, though she pronounced it with just a slight
foreign accent. There was no anger in her tones, no defiance. She spoke
softly, silvery, persuasively.
‘I do not pretend to be his keeper, madame; I am his sincere friend,’ I
answered. ‘And surely I need not remind you that he owes a duty to his
lawful wife.’
During this short conversation Jack had sat motionless on the edge of a
couch, his chin resting on his hands, and apparently absorbed with some
conflicting thoughts. But Annette turned to him, and, still smiling,
said:
‘I think Mr. Redcar is quite capable of answering for himself. Stand
up, Jack, and speak your thoughts like a man.’
Although she spoke in her oily, insidious way, her request was a
peremptory command. I realised that at once, and I saw as Jack rose he
gazed at her, and her lustrous eyes fixed him. Then he turned upon me
with a furious gesture and exclaimed, with a violence of expression