"About a week after the idol came, Adrian was called out into the grounds by a suspicious noise one night. He gave a great cry and said something had bitten him. Indeed, his foot and leg swelled up to an incredible size, and it was obvious he had been stung by something poisonous. Mr. Pons, he died in great agony, within three days, despite all the doctors could do to save him!"
3
There was a long silence in the room and I got up and placed another billet of wood upon the fire. Pons sat with the sensitive fingers of one hand stroking the lobe of his left ear in a gesture with which I had long become familiar.
"Do go on, Colonel. This is of absorbing interest. If what you say is correct, some beast of tropical origin was responsible for young Renfrew's death."
"That is so, Mr. Pons. There was a search made, of course, but nothing was ever found. And if it were so, the insect, or snake, would not have long survived in an English winter."
"Do go on."
"Well, Mr. Pons. There is not a great deal more, although what transpired recently did give me one of the biggest frights of my life. A small parcel came for me last week. I have it here."
"Containing an African idol, no doubt," said Pons with a curious smile.
"Exactly, Mr. Pons."
"Pray let me see it."
Our visitor rummaged in the pocket of the overcoat he had left on the chair and produced a small cardboard box wrapped in torn brown paper. The name and address was inked on the paper in rough block letters. Pons took it up.
"Postmarked Colchester, I see. Done with a thick-nibbed pen. The writing tells us nothing. Probably written in a post office. Time of mailing, ten forty-five A.M.; ordinary string such as one could buy at any hardware store. The paper is wrapping paper whose sheets are sold by. the million in stationers the length and breadth of the land. The box looks as though it might have once contained an Easter egg. Or it could have come from a toy shop. Let us just have a look at the contents."
He carefully lifted out the ugly object and set it down on a small table at the fireside, where we could all clearly see it. It was indeed a bizarre thing. About five inches in height, the negroid features were difficult to make out, partaking both of male and female characteristics. The statuette was full-length, jet-black, and the cheeks of the creature were gashed and incised. There were yellow and red stripes painted across the face and stomach of the effigy. It was crudely done, as we could all see. Solar Pons put out a forefinger and touched the figurine.
"I am no authority on West African tribal matters, Colonel What do you make of it?"
"Those are Ipi markings, all right, Mr. Pons. But if that is tribal carving, I will eat my hat."
Pons chuckled and nodded his head in assent.
"I had already come to the same conclusions, Colonel. A crude facsimile of the real thing, possibly copied out of some encyclopedia."
He moistened his forefinger with saliva and rubbed at the flank of the figure. His finger came away black. He smiled.
"Cheaply constructed, cheaply colored too. But the thing evidently put the fear of death into Silas Renfrew. Surely you are not suggesting that the arrival of this idol threw you into a state of terror also."
Our visitor burst into a short, barking laugh which made the dog Toto prick up its ears.
"It would take something more tangible to do that, Mr. Pons. No, sir, it was an event which happened last night and which almost cost me my life. About two days ago I found I had mislaid my favorite pair of bedroom slippers. I thought little about it, feeling that perhaps one of the servants had taken them away to polish. Last night, they were back at my bedside."
Our visitor's face had turned deathly pale, and his brilliant blue eyes were fixed upon Pons.
"I was in my pajamas, Mr. Pons. It was almost midnight and the fire in the room was burning low. My feet were bare, and I was reaching out my hand for my slippers when I saw a shadow crawl, out of the corner of my eye. Mr. Pons, you may believe me or believe me not, but it was the biggest spider I have ever seen; a monstrous, hairy thing that looked to my overheated mind as big as a soup plate."
"Good heavens!" I could not help exclaiming.
Colonel d'Arcy looked at me grimly.
"You may well say so, Doctor. The thing was a nightmare. It had evidently been sheltering in my slipper for warmth and was making for the area of the fire. Fortunately I was able to seize the poker and dispatched the loathsome creature with a few. well-aimed blows. Mr. Pons, it was a tarantula! One bite from that thing and it would have been all up with me."
Pons ran a finger gently along the edge of his jaw and his eyes were serious.
"These are deep waters, Parker. You did well to come to me, Colonel. What did you do with the remains of this creature?"
"I burned it, Mr. Pons. Burned it in loathing and disgust, and then had the servants up, and the whole room turned inside out."
"Nevertheless, it might have assisted us if you had saved the remains," said Solar Pons. "You are certain it was a tarantula?"
Colonel d'Arcy nodded grimly.
"I have seen enough of the brutes in my time."
"Nevertheless, your bizarre and fascinating mystery, Colonel, raises a number of interesting questions. This creature — and possibly something similar that may have bitten young Adrian Renfrew — could not have lived long in an English winter, as you say. Therefore it needed artificial warmth. The supply of such things is necessarily specialized
and narrows down the search considerably. No doubt it was packed carefully in your slipper by someone who knew what he was about Possibly the insect was drugged. The heat in the room gradually died out and the brute awoke and sought warmth. You are indeed lucky, Colonel, that it did not seek it against the sole of your foot"
Our visitor shuddered and beads of perspiration were starting out on his brow.
"This morning, Mr. Pons, I sought the advice of my fiancée. She advised — nay even urged me strongly — to come to you. I thought the matter over all day. Finally, common sense prevailed I am not a coward, Mr. Pons, but something vile is menacing the inhabitants of The Briars. I do not wish Miss Mortimer involved. I beg of you to return to Essex with me tonight, Mr. Pons. Money is of no object."
Solar Pons held up his hand and rose swiftly to his feet.
"It is not a question of money, Colonel. I had long ago made up my mind to take the case. There is no time to be lost Have you set a date for your wedding?"
Our visitor looked startled and rose to his feet also.
"In early spring, Mr. Pons. May first"
Pons pulled at the lobe of his ears.
"Just over three months. There may be an element of desperation here. No doubt an attempt will be made again. You have not yet told us how your uncle died, Colonel."
"He was a broken man after the death of his only son, Mr. Pons. He was found dead in his study one night Foul play was not suspected. He had a long history of heart trouble."
Pons nodded, his eyes questioningly on my face.
"It has just turned ten o'clock. There is a train shortly which will take us to our destination within the hour. Are you free to accompany us, Parker?"
"If the colonel has no objection."
Colonel d'Arcy raised a deprecatory hand.
"I would be greatly honored, Doctor."
"That is settled then," said Solar Pons, returning to his bedroom to throw some things into his overnight bag.