The White Wolf and Other Fireside Tales — John Shaqi
The White Wolf and Other Fireside TalesQuiller-Couch, Arthur
Science
The White Wolf and Other Fireside Tales
Quiller-Couch, Arthur
Short stories, English
"Now when I reached home with my string of fish, I walked round to the
back of the house to clean them before going in. This took me past the
window of our room, and glancing inside--the window was unglazed, you
understand--I saw Aoodya standing before the cradle and talking, quick
and angry, with a man posted in the doorway opening on the verandah.
"I was not jealous. The thought never entered my head. But I dropped
my fish and whipped round to the doorway in time to catch him as he
turned to go, having heard my footstep belike.
"'Who the something-or-other are you?' I asked. 'And what's your
business in my private house?'
"The man--a yellow-faced fellow, but young in figure--muttered something
in a gibberish new to me, and made as if excusing himself. It gave me
an ugly start to see that his eyes were yellow too, with long slits for
pupils; but I saw too that he was afraid of me, and being in a towering
rage myself, I out with my _kris_.
"'Now look here,' I said; 'I don't understand what you say, but maybe
you understand this. Walk! And if I catch you here again, you'll need
someone to sew you up.'
"I watched him as he went across the compound. The guard at the gate
scarcely looked up, and if the thing hadn't been impossible, there, in
the broad daylight, I could have fancied he saw no one. I turned to
Aoodya and took her hands, for she was trembling from head to foot.
At my touch she burst out sobbing, clung to my shoulder and begged me to
protect her.
"'Why, of course I will,' said I, more cheerfully than I felt by a long
sight. 'If I'd known you were frightened like this, I'd have slit his
body to match his eyes. But who is he, at all?'
"'He--he said he was my brother!' she wailed, and clung to me again.
'I cannot--I cannot!'
"'I'll brother him!' cried I. 'But what is it he wants?'
"'I cannot--I cannot!' was all she would say; and now her sobs were so
loud that the child woke up screaming and had to be soothed. And this
seemed to do her good.
"Well, I got her to bed and asleep early that night; but before morning
I had a worse fright than ever. Somehow in my dream I had a feeling
come to me that the bed was empty, and sat up suddenly, half awake and
scared. Aoodya had risen and was standing by the cradle, with one hand
on its edge; in the other was the lamp--a clam-shell fastened in a split
handle of bamboo, and holding a pith wick and a little oil. The flame
wavered against her eyes as she held it up and peered into the baby's
face--and her eyes were like as I had seen them once before, and
devilish like the eyes I had seen in another face that afternoon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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