Inside the cage, erect on its hind legs, stood an enormous ape, shackled by a huge chain round its neck to a heavy stake driven into the ground. Nearly seven feet high, it was so horribly repulsive in its perverted likeness to humanity, that Yvette, Dick, and Jules turned away sick with disgust and horror. It snarled and chattered at the sight of the strangers.
Renstoke, however, carefully examined the monster. But he soon realised that this creature had certainly not been at large, at any rate for some considerable time.
The clue had failed. Whatever the truth might be it was clear the gorilla could have had no part in the terrible tragedy of Alan MacPherson.
“A wonderful specimen,” said Renstoke, turning to Erckmann. “Have you had him long?”
“About six years,” the scientist replied. “Would you like to see what it can do?” Without waiting for a reply, he spoke softly to the raging beast in some language the others did not understand.
Instantly the brute calmed down, shuffled to the bars of the cage and laid its head on the ground close to where Erckmann was standing. It was just as though a dog were fawning on its master. Erckmann fearlessly thrust a hand between the bars and scratched the repulsive head while the great ape lay with closed eyes evidently in keen enjoyment of the sensation.
Still talking quietly in the strange language, Erckmann put the beast through a number of tricks which it performed, clumsily, of course, but with obvious understanding of what was required of it. It was, as Renstoke realised, a wonderful example of animal training, for the gorilla is perhaps the most intractable of all living animals.
“Perhaps as you are here you would like to see the rest of my menagerie,” said Erckmann, as he led the way to a series of cages adjoining.
They gazed in astonishment at what they saw. There was a superb tiger, several leopards of different species, and at least a dozen wolves. The animals were all clean and well cared for and it was obvious at a glance that none of them could have been wandering for an indefinite period about the country.
“I hope you are satisfied, Lord Renstoke,” said Erckmann at last, “that none of my pets is responsible for what has happened?”