CHAPTER XVI.
DRAWING THE LOT.
When we had taken our places, Pendarvon commenced proceedings. Helooked round at us and laughed, as if the whole proceedings had beensome mighty joke.
"Gentlemen, the usual preliminaries, if you please."
He had the crimson-covered book open in front of him. He read aloud theoath by which we all had bound ourselves. As he did so, men sobereddown a little. The oath which he had evolved from his mischief-makingbrain was calculated to make one sober. It was the rule that, at eachmeeting, the oath was to be re-sworn. Having recited it, with his righthand resting on the open page, Pendarvon affixed to it his signature.The book went round. Each man recited the oath, his hand resting on thepage, and signed.
By the time Pendarvon had the book again, a change came over the spiritof the scene. The suggestion of frivolity which had been in the air hadvanished. Hibbard and Silvester, in spite of the assistance which theyhad received from outside sources, did not look happy. Pendarvon readout the signatures. When he came to one he stopped.
"Teddy, have you signed?"
Hibbard was indignant--or feigned to be.
"Signed? Of course I've signed! Can't you read it?"
Pendarvon tugged at his beard and laughed.
"Be shot if I can! I can see a smudge, and that's all I can see. In amatter of this importance a signature should be writ as plain ascopper-plate, so that all who run may read. Teddy, would you mindsigning again, this time a little clearer? and Silvester might followsuit. You would not care to take us at an advantage, and be the onlytwo among us to keep your names dark."
Pendarvon went to Teddy with the book in his hand. Placing it on thetable in front of him, he leaned over his shoulder while he wrote.
"That's better, Teddy; that's plain as print. 'Edward Hibbard,' that'ssomething like a name. Now, Silvester, if you won't mind."
Silvester leaned back in his chair, and frowned.
"I don't understand. That's my usual signature. What else do you want?"
"We want it a little plainer; nothing more."
Silvester grumbled, but he did what he was asked to do. He signedagain, and plainer. That was like Pendarvon. If he had made up his mindthat a man should do a thing, the odds were that the man would do it,although against his own will.
Pendarvon returned to his seat in triumph. As he talked to us he kepton laughing. The ugliest thing about him was his voice; it was harshand strident--sometimes it seemed to strike one like a whip.
"Gentlemen, we have all of us been looking forward with pleasurableanticipations to this, our second, meeting. I need not tell you why. Amonth to-night our Honour was committed to the hands of one of us. Weare here to ask for its return."
With a laughing gesture, he turned to me.
"Reggie, our Honour is in your hands."
As he sat down, I rose, and as I rose a sound which was almost like asigh went round the room. I fancy that some of the fellows werepreparing themselves for what might be to come, by taking in agood supply of breath. That all eyes were fixed on me I was wellaware--fixed on me, I mean, with a curious, unusual kind of stare. Theylooked at me as if they would have almost rather not, and yet could nothelp but look. I took out my pocket-book; I laid it on the table. Everylittle movement which I made was followed by their eyes. I doubt ifever a man had a more attentive audience.
"Gentlemen of the Murder Club, I greet you."
I bowed to each individual. As I did so I noticed how pale they seemedto look.
"I occupy, on this occasion, a unique position. I take it that no manever stood in such a pair of shoes as mine before. There have beenmurder clubs, which have been called by other names. They haveconcerned themselves with revolutions--with religious, social,political reforms. A murder club, the object of which has beenamusement, pure and simple, I doubt if there ever before has been. Toour founders I owe a special, a peculiar gratitude. Beaupre, I bow toyou--the original suggestion of our Club was yours."
I bowed to Archie. In return he waved his hand to me.
"And a devilish good suggestion, too!"
"Beaupre, the words you use could not be bettered. They exactlydescribe the theme. Mr. Chairman, I bow to you--it was you who clothedwith flesh the dry bones of the suggestion, breathed on them, and gavethem life."
I bowed to Pendarvon. Laughing, he bowed again to me. He knew I hatedhim, and I knew he hated me.
"I owe these special thanks to our founders, gentlemen, because, duringthe month which is past, they have provided me with such great, suchunwonted sport. So soon as I knew that the Honour of the Club wasindeed entrusted to my keeping, I became like the old-fashionedsportsman, who had to do his own beating and flush for himself hisbirds. In my case there was this marked peculiarity, that I did noteven know where to find the cover in which a bird might happen to behiding."
Pausing, I looked each member in the face in turn. Odd spectacles theymost of them presented. The majority of them shifted their eyes as theysaw mine coming, as if they were unwilling, or unable, to meet myglances.
"Gentlemen, I found the cover and the bird. I have had thegratification of being able to fulfil the promise which I made to you.I return the Honour of the Club, dyed a more vivid crimson stain."
As I spoke, two or three fellows gasped. I don't know who they were,but the queer sound which they emitted caused me to smile. Taking outthe Honour of the Club from my pocket-book, I held it up in front ofme. There was silence. Then Pendarvon spoke--
"Are we to take you literally?"
"In the sense that the Honour of the Club has, literally, been dyed amore vivid crimson--that, in other words, it has been dipped in thesacrificial blood? No. My meaning, there, was metaphorical. There wasno blood to dip it in."
I handed the Honour of the Club across the table to Pendarvon. As hetook it, he looked at me askance.
"That is not all you are going to tell us? The rules require you tofurnish full particulars."
"Those particulars, Mr. Chairman, I am now about to furnish. The bird Iflushed, marked, and bagged was a hen."
"A hen?"
"A woman, Mr. Chairman. Name, Louise O'Donnel. Age, turned twenty.Date, last Sunday. Scene, Three Bridges. Cause of death,strangulation."
Pendarvon leaned towards me over the table.
"Are you responsible, then, for what the papers have christened theThree Bridges Tragedy?"
"I am."
"Did you throw the woman from the train?"
"I did not. I threw the woman from the field, over the hedge, on to therailway embankment. I should explain to you, gentlemen, that it seemsnot unlikely that I may become the subject of a curious coincidence. Ikilled the bird under the railway bridge. As I was doing so a trainpassed overhead. This must have been the train of which you have readin the public prints. I cannot pretend to predict the course of events,but I can assure you that whoever smashed that window and had thatlittle rough and tumble in the railway carriage had nothing to do withthe Three Bridges Tragedy. For that I am responsible, and I alone."
Silence followed my words. I glanced round. Various expressions were onthe fellows' faces, and among them was one which suggested doubt. Inoted, with amusement, that what I had anticipated had taken place.They doubted if I had done what I had declared I had.
Pendarvon gave this feeling voice.
"The case is a little delicate, dear Reggie. A man say that he has donea thing, and then when B, on the strength of what A says, goes and doeslikewise, he may find that A has been having a joke with him--don't yousee my point?"
"You want proofs."
"You say that this Three Bridges business is yours. Suppose that someone else is arrested for it, and--we will go so far--is hung, whatshall you do?"
"Do? Why, let him hang."
"I see. Of course. You would."
"In a matter of this sort proofs are rather difficult to give, unlessyou were all to come with me to see the fun. I
will tell you my story."
Then I told them exactly what had happened on the Sunday evening, as itis written. At the close I took two letters from my pocket-book.
"Mr. Chairman, I have here two letters. The first is the one which Iwrote asking the lady to meet me at East Grinstead--that I took fromher pocket after she was dead. The second is the one in which shepromised that she would. I have pleasure in submitting them to theattention of the club."
I passed the letter to Pendarvon. From one of my tail pockets Iproduced a small parcel.
"You will have observed, gentlemen, that it is stated that nothing wasfound in the woman's pockets. That was owing to the fact that I hadpreviously taken the precaution to empty it. I hold the contents of herpocket in my hand: a letter--that the chairman has--a purse, some keys,a pocket-handkerchief. This scrap of silk ribbon suspended this locketto her neck; in the locket you will find my portrait. That also I tookfrom her after she was dead. I offer it, with the other items, for theinspection of the club."
Pendarvon read the letters carefully through; then, without remark, hepassed them to the man who sat beside him. After examining my relics,he passed them too. The batch went round. One or two of the mencarefully examined each separate item; most just glanced at them inpassing; some seemed to shrink from touching them, as if afraid ofcoming into close contact.
When they had gone round, Pendarvon rose.
"I think, gentlemen, that our friend's statement has given generalsatisfaction."
Rudini tapped with his finger on the table.
"It was a woman; it is not a man's work to kill a woman."
Pendarvon laughed.
"There, Rudini, you must excuse me if I differ. I think that it isessentially a man's work. The women are always killing us. It is justas well that we should take our turn at killing them. Indeed, were itnot too late I should almost be disposed to suggest that it shouldalways be a woman who was killed."
Budini brought his fist down with a bang.
"Then I shall go."
"It will be soon enough, Budini, for you to talk of going when thesuggestion's made. I repeat, gentlemen, that I think that Mr. Townsendhas satisfied us that he really has done something for the Honour ofthe Club. As he himself says, in cases of this sort, the ocular proofit is almost impossible to give. But he has given us proofs, as itseems to me, of a sufficiently convincing kind. Are you content? Thoseof you who are will please stand up."
All rose--Rudini after a moment's hesitation.
"I see, gentlemen, that we are all content. We have excellent cause. Beso good as to charge your glasses. We thank you, Reggie; we appreciatethe good deed which you have done, and we drink to your next fortunateadventure."
They drained their glasses--not, I suspect, before some of them were inneed of what was in them. They would have sampled the brandy before hadit not been a rule of the club that nothing was to be drunk except inresponse to the chairman's toasts.
Pendarvon continued--
"There only remains one thing for our friend to do."
He wrote something in the book in front of him. Then he passed the bookto me.
"We have to ask you, Reggie, to put your name to that."
I saw that he had put the date of the preceding Sunday, and then--
"Louise O'Donnel--For the Honour of the Club."
"If I put my name to that it may be tantamount to a confession ofmurder."
"Precisely--it is in accordance with our rules--for our generalprotection--we shall have to sign a similar memorandum in our turns."
"May I ask where this book is kept? One does not like to think thatsuch an interesting volume is left lying about."
Pendarvon pointed to a safe which was fitted into the wall.
"At present it is kept in there. It is as good a safe of its sort asyou are likely to find. I have the only key But I agree with you thatthe proper custody of the book is a matter of importance. I wouldsuggest that a safe be obtained with thirteen different locks andthirteen different keys, which it will be impossible to open exceptwithout common consent."
"Your suggestion, Mr. Chairman, is a good one."
"Then, by the time we meet again such a safe shall be obtained. In themeantime--sign."
I signed. Outwardly, I believe, that I was calm enough. In my heart Iwished that, before I had ever heard of him or it, Pendarvon and hisclub had been at Timbuctoo, and stayed there.
As he blotted my signature, Pendarvon laughed. I felt, as I heard, thatI had been a fool not to have exchanged him for Louise. To my ear,everything about the man rang false--and always had.
"Townsend, what an excellent hand you write! If only every one wrote asclearly! I wish I could. As you are aware, it now becomes my pleasantduty to inform you that the Honour of the Club which you have returnedto us to-night will be framed in gold, and will be awarded to you as adiploma of merit."
"You may keep it."
"Reggie!--the idea! As though I would rob you of what you have sofairly earned!" He closed the crimson-coloured volume. "Our nextbusiness, gentlemen, is to ascertain the fortunate individual to whosekeeping the Honour of the Club is to be now entrusted. Since you,Townsend, have won our diploma of merit, it becomes my duty, as a merepostulant, to resign to you the chair. You will conduct the drawing, inwhich, of course, you yourself will not take part. Gentlemen, Mr.Townsend will be our chairman, until some equally fortunate colleaguehas gained his diploma."
He rose from their seat, beckoning me towards it with his hand. As Iaccepted his invitation, there was some tapping of hands upon thetable, and Archie called out, "Hear, hear!" I took up the little heapof cards which was on the table in front of my new seat, counting themso that they all could see.
"As you perceive, here are eleven." Kendrick sat on my left. I handedthe bag to him.
"Colonel, will you be first to draw?"
Kendrick was the oldest man among us. His hair and moustache were whiteas snow. He was rich, respected, with troops of friends. Why he hadjoined us was more than I could say. I guessed that it was to gratifysome private grudge. However that might be, I saw that his handtrembled as he thrust it into the bag. He took some time in choosing.When at last he drew his card, glancing quickly at both sides of it, hethrew it down upon the table.
"Blank!" he said. "Not yet."
Rudini sat next to him. He made a little speech before he put his handinto the bag.
"If I am what Mr. Pendarvon has called the fortunate individual, itwill be no woman I shall kill. I would sooner kill a thousand men. Itis for that I joined the club."
But he was not the "fortunate individual." He drew a blank. He wasshortsighted. He had to peer at it closely before he saw it was ablank.
"As the Colonel says--not yet. My time will come."
Poindexter sat by Rudini--the Honourable Jem. I always thought it wasrather a shame to drag him in. He was only a boy, just out of histeens. He said nothing when he got the bag; he made up in eloquence oflooks for paucity of words. There was a white, drawn look about hisface which made him look as old as any one of us. He fumbled with themouth of the bag, as though it was not large enough for him to get hishand in. When he did get one hand in, he dropped the bag from theother. Pendarvon laughed.
"Upon my word, you're shivering, Jem; is it with joy?"
The Honourable picked up the bag.
"What's it to do with you what I am shivering at?"
He stared at the card he drew. Then he gasped, "Thank God, it's blank!"
Pendarvon laughed again. I believe that the laughter which they say isheard in hell must sound like his.
"Why, Jem, one would almost think that you were glad."
The Honourable said nothing. He tried to stare at Pendarvon. But it wasa failure. He put his head down on the table. And he cried. He was onlya lad.
Old Shepherd came after the boy. When he saw that it was his turn hedid a very curious thing. He got off his chair and he went on to hisknees, and he said--
"I am going to pray
."
He closed his eyes, and he clasped his hands in front of him. I supposehe prayed. I know we stared. Pendarvon was shaking with laughter--itwas with soundless laughter for once in a way. I suppose that the manprayed for at least five minutes. I wonder that we were still so long.I was on the point of politely requesting him to cut it short when herose from his knees. He put his hand into the bag. He drew a blank.
"My prayer," he said, "has not been answered. I fear, sometimes, thatit will remain unanswered to the end."
What he meant it is not for me to say. It was plain that, as I haveobserved already, he was stark mad. In the next chair was TeddyHibbard. He turned to Shepherd--
"I say, old chap, what was it you wanted?"
"The Honour of the Club. I am waiting and watching and hoping for theend."
"Are you? Then if I get it I'll give it you; a beginning's more myline."
He also drew a blank. When he perceived what it was he held it outtowards Pendarvon and winked, "I'm not sorry." With a dexterousmovement he threw it across the table, so that if Pendarvon had not putup his hand and stopped it it would have struck him in the face. "Putthat in your pipe and smoke it, see."
When Silvester took the bag he began to shake it.
"We're getting warm." He turned to Shepherd. "I echo what Teddy's said.If I draw the Honour of the Club I'll pass it on to you."
Shepherd shook his head.
"That will not do. I must draw the lot myself."
Silvester held out the bag to him. "Would you like to have anothertry?"
"I must draw it, in due order, in my proper turn."
"It strikes me that you're not quite so anxious as you make out. Idon't mind owning that my anxiety is all the other way. I should liketo have a little longer run before I earn my diploma."
He drew a blank. Next to him sat Archie. Silvester passed him the bag,with a laugh--a queer laugh, which had in it a hysteric note.
"Try your luck, Beaupre--three shies a penny!"
Archie looked him in the face.
"There is no necessity for me to try my luck, Silvester. I know itbefore I try. I knew it before I came into this room. You fellowsdrawing was but a mere matter of form. I am to draw the Honour of theClub. It is written in the skies."
His voice rang through the room. I noticed that Pendarvon tugged at hisbeard, and stared at him, as if he could not make him out. But I,knowing the man as I did, knew his mood. Slipping his hand quickly intothe bag, in an instant he drew it out. Without glancing at the cardwhich he had drawn he held it up to us between his fingers. "See! TheHonour of the Club!"
It was.
There was silence. Approaching the card to his face, Archie touched itwith his lips.
"Welcome, thou dreadful thing!" He half rose to his feet. "Gentlemen,did I not tell you? As you perceive, the fortune of war is mine!"
I stood up as he sat down.
"Bumpers, gentlemen." They filled and rose. "Beaupre, feeling, as wemust, that the Honour of the Club could not possibly be in better or inmore deserving hands, we tender you our best congratulations on yourgood fortune as you know full well."
Then they all said in a sort of chorus as they drank, "We do."
"You have the prospect, nay, the certainty, of good sport before you,Beaupre--sport of a rare and of a most excellent kind. I speak from myown experience. That this day month you may have as pleasant a story totell as mine--Beaupre, I can wish you no better wish than that."
Then Archie spoke. He held the Honour of the Club out in front of himwhile he was speaking.
"Mr. Chairman and gentlemen, I have not words with which to thank you.I would I had. They would indeed be warm. Mr. Chairman, to you I wouldparticularly say that your good wishes strike me deep. They cut into myheart. For my fondest hope as I listen and as I look at you, with thispiece of pasteboard held in my safe keeping, thinking of all that youhave done on behalf of its twin brother, is that I may play half aswell the man." He bowed round the table. "I thank you."
And he sat down.