I must say that the old, white-tufted fellow was not very adroit at his work. I stood absolutely spell-bound while I watched him paw about the clothing of the two others. The candle guttered with special vehemence, and the pilferer turned upward to it an anxious eye. Then he appeared to make a decision; standing full length, he crossed to the candle and lifted his lean fingers to snuff it. I was impressed by a sight of his narrow brown face, vulturine in contour, with the tall, furrowed brow of a student, the thin, pale lips of an ascetic, and the broken-off jaw of a fighter. The expression was whimsical and wily. The light glinted for an instant on a green eye, on white smiling teeth, and on the diamond stud in his shirt-front. Then the fingers smothered the feeble flame, and he was in the darkness with those dazed ones I suspected were his victims.
And I hastened around the fourth tower, larger than the rest, at the southern extremity of the mansion. What was I to do? Had I in fact witnessed the induction to a serious crime? Was it my duty to report what I had seen? It must depend on circumstances; perhaps the old tufted sinner was the proprietor himself. I must be cautious. I must be dissimulative.
Above all, I must not be surprised.
An electric chandelier sparkled in the large corner tower, revealing it to be part of the sumptuous library of the mansion, empty of persons. I found the entrance I sought in the middle of the south end of the building. The crunching drive made a great circle, leading to a square-arched, ivied entry. A barred lamp above the vestibule faintly revealed the arms of the house cut in stone at the apex of the arch, and surmounting this, as a sort of crest, was the rude but unmistakable image of a cat’s head. I dimly perceived a feline nose with faintest trace of whisker running along it, and triangular ears. The mouth was grinning, not pleasantly.
Here was matter for vast surprise, but I must not be surprised!
I stepped underneath the arch, to the broad iron-bound black-door. Another pale light revealed the knocker, an iron piece in the shape of the paw of a cat. There was also the button of an electric bell. I grasped the paw and struck twice.
Almost immediately the door opened. “Come in,” said a voice. “You’ve been—”
I must not be surprised! But I gaped, and gurgled, for all I know.
The sturdy square-set fellow in evening dress who had opened the door so suddenly and who now stood in the half-light was staring at me, beginning to look a little distrait.
“Oh, so you’re not—” he commenced brusquely, and, changing his tone, recommenced, “But are you, or aren’t—?”