CHAPTER XVII.
INCONVENIENT MEMORIES.
Up to this time those of the apes who had once been articles of merchandise in Philip Garland’s establishment gave no signs of remembering their past treatment, and he congratulated himself, even amid his troubles, that they did not take it into their apish heads to put him through the same course of training as he formerly practiced.
This lack of memory was only temporary, however, as he soon had the best of reasons to know, and never did a man repent more bitterly his attempts at animal-training than Philip on this eventful evening, while his long-tailed hosts were indulging in the gayeties of a ball.
The sport was at its height. The partially-clad apes were whirling around the room, evidently enjoying the dance as much as ever their masters and mistresses did; and Philip stood in one corner, hidden by the throng, watching for an opportunity to make his escape through one of the half-opened windows leading to the front veranda. He believed the apes had for the time being forgotten him, but in this he made a sad mistake.
Suddenly a large monkey, who had formed a part of the collection sold to Captain Seaworth’s officers, came close to his old master. Philip recognized him as one whom he had taught, after much labor and many blows, to play the banjo, and from the expression of the animal’s face he understood that further trouble for himself was near at hand.
The monkey scanned him so long and intently that half a score of the dancers ceased their sport and gathered around, full of curiosity to learn what was to be done with this specimen of the human tribe.
It was as if the animal had tried to attract the attention of his comrades. When there was a sufficient number around to prevent any possibility of the animal-trainer’s escape, the monkey went to that portion of the room where one of the banjos was hanging, and, taking down the instrument, thrust it into Philip’s hands as he uttered a hoarse cry in a commanding voice.
At this moment the other members of the company who had formerly belonged to Philip’s establishment gathered around in high glee, and there could be no mistake as to their intentions. As the animal-trainer had taught his articles of merchandise, so now they were going to teach him, and the lesson would unquestionably be painful as well as humiliating.
For an instant Philip’s pride prevented him from playing the part of musician to the monkey-dancers, and he shook his head as if to say it was impossible. Almost at the same moment he regretted having refused, for the monkey immediately struck him across the face with the instrument, dealing such a blow as sent the unfortunate captive staggering back against the wall.