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diff --git a/old/12122-0.txt b/old/12122-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8ba42f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12122-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,934 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Monkey’s Paw, by W.W. Jacobs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Monkey’s Paw + The Lady of the Barge and Others, Part 2. + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: April 22, 2004 [eBook #12122] +[Most recently updated: October 28, 2023] + +Language: English + +Produced by: David Widger + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONKEY’S PAW *** + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE LADY OF THE BARGE +AND OTHER STORIES + +By W. W. Jacobs + + + +THE MONKEY’S PAW + + + + +I. + + +Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of +Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. +Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the +game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and +unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired +old lady knitting placidly by the fire. + +“Hark at the wind,” said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake +after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from +seeing it. + +“I’m listening,” said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he +stretched out his hand. “Check.” + +“I should hardly think that he’d come to-night,” said his father, with +his hand poised over the board. + +“Mate,” replied the son. + +“That’s the worst of living so far out,” bawled Mr. White, with sudden +and unlooked-for violence; “of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way +places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway’s a bog, and the road’s a +torrent. I don’t know what people are thinking about. I suppose because +only two houses in the road are let, they think it doesn’t matter.” + +“Never mind, dear,” said his wife, soothingly; “perhaps you’ll win the +next one.” + +Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance +between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a +guilty grin in his thin grey beard. + +“There he is,” said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and +heavy footsteps came toward the door. + +The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard +condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with +himself, so that Mrs. White said, “Tut, tut!” and coughed gently as her +husband entered the room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye +and rubicund of visage. + +“Sergeant-Major Morris,” he said, introducing him. + +The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the +fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers +and stood a small copper kettle on the fire. + +At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the +little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from +distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke +of wild scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange +peoples. + +“Twenty-one years of it,” said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. +“When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look +at him.” + +“He don’t look to have taken much harm,” said Mrs. White, politely. + +“I’d like to go to India myself,” said the old man, “just to look round +a bit, you know.” + +“Better where you are,” said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He +put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again. + +“I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers,” said +the old man. “What was that you started telling me the other day about +a monkey’s paw or something, Morris?” + +“Nothing,” said the soldier, hastily. “Leastways nothing worth +hearing.” + +“Monkey’s paw?” said Mrs. White, curiously. + +“Well, it’s just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps,” said the +sergeant-major, offhandedly. + +His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly +put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host +filled it for him. + +“To look at,” said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, “it’s +just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy.” + +He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew +back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously. + +“And what is there special about it?” inquired Mr. White as he took it +from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table. + +“It had a spell put on it by an old fakir,” said the sergeant-major, “a +very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and +that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a +spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes +from it.” + +His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their +light laughter jarred somewhat. + +“Well, why don’t you have three, sir?” said Herbert White, cleverly. + +The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard +presumptuous youth. “I have,” he said, quietly, and his blotchy face +whitened. + +“And did you really have the three wishes granted?” asked Mrs. White. + +“I did,” said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his +strong teeth. + +“And has anybody else wished?” persisted the old lady. + +“The first man had his three wishes. Yes,” was the reply; “I don’t know +what the first two were, but the third was for death. That’s how I got +the paw.” + +His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group. + +“If you’ve had your three wishes, it’s no good to you now, then, +Morris,” said the old man at last. “What do you keep it for?” + +The soldier shook his head. “Fancy, I suppose,” he said, slowly. “I did +have some idea of selling it, but I don’t think I will. It has caused +enough mischief already. Besides, people won’t buy. They think it’s a +fairy tale; some of them, and those who do think anything of it want to +try it first and pay me afterward.” + +“If you could have another three wishes,” said the old man, eyeing him +keenly, “would you have them?” + +“I don’t know,” said the other. “I don’t know.” + +He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb, +suddenly threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down +and snatched it off. + +“Better let it burn,” said the soldier, solemnly. + +“If you don’t want it, Morris,” said the other, “give it to me.” + +“I won’t,” said his friend, doggedly. “I threw it on the fire. If you +keep it, don’t blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again +like a sensible man.” + +The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. “How +do you do it?” he inquired. + +“Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud,” said the +sergeant-major, “but I warn you of the consequences.” + +“Sounds like the _Arabian Nights_,” said Mrs. White, as she rose and +began to set the supper. “Don’t you think you might wish for four pairs +of hands for me?” + +Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst +into laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, +caught him by the arm. + +“If you must wish,” he said, gruffly, “wish for something sensible.” + +Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned +his friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was +partly forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an +enthralled fashion to a second instalment of the soldier’s adventures +in India. + +“If the tale about the monkey’s paw is not more truthful than those he +has been telling us,” said Herbert, as the door closed behind their +guest, just in time for him to catch the last train, “we sha’nt make +much out of it.” + +“Did you give him anything for it, father?” inquired Mrs. White, +regarding her husband closely. + +“A trifle,” said he, colouring slightly. “He didn’t want it, but I made +him take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away.” + +“Likely,” said Herbert, with pretended horror. “Why, we’re going to be +rich, and famous and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin +with; then you can’t be henpecked.” + +He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed +with an antimacassar. + +Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. “I don’t +know what to wish for, and that’s a fact,” he said, slowly. “It seems +to me I’ve got all I want.” + +“If you only cleared the house, you’d be quite happy, wouldn’t you?” +said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. “Well, wish for two +hundred pounds, then; that ’ll just do it.” + +His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the +talisman, as his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at +his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords. + +“I wish for two hundred pounds,” said the old man distinctly. + +A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a +shuddering cry from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him. + +“It moved,” he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay +on the floor. + +“As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake.” + +“Well, I don’t see the money,” said his son as he picked it up and +placed it on the table, “and I bet I never shall.” + +“It must have been your fancy, father,” said his wife, regarding him +anxiously. + +He shook his head. “Never mind, though; there’s no harm done, but it +gave me a shock all the same.” + +They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes. +Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started +nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual +and depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old +couple rose to retire for the night. + +“I expect you’ll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of +your bed,” said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, “and something +horrible squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket +your ill-gotten gains.” + +He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing +faces in it. The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed +at it in amazement. It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, +he felt on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw +over it. His hand grasped the monkey’s paw, and with a little shiver he +wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed. + + + + +II. + + +In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over +the breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of +prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the +previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the +sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its +virtues. + +“I suppose all old soldiers are the same,” said Mrs. White. “The idea +of our listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these +days? And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, +father?” + +“Might drop on his head from the sky,” said the frivolous Herbert. + +“Morris said the things happened so naturally,” said his father, “that +you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence.” + +“Well, don’t break into the money before I come back,” said Herbert as +he rose from the table. “I’m afraid it’ll turn you into a mean, +avaricious man, and we shall have to disown you.” + +His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the +road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the +expense of her husband’s credulity. All of which did not prevent her +from scurrying to the door at the postman’s knock, nor prevent her from +referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous +habits when she found that the post brought a tailor’s bill. + +“Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he +comes home,” she said, as they sat at dinner. + +“I dare say,” said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; “but for +all that, the thing moved in my hand; that I’ll swear to.” + +“You thought it did,” said the old lady soothingly. + +“I say it did,” replied the other. “There was no thought about it; I +had just—What’s the matter?” + +His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a +man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, +appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental +connection with the two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger +was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he +paused at the gate, and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood +with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open +and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands +behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put +that useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair. + +She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He +gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the +old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband’s +coat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then +waited as patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his +business, but he was at first strangely silent. + +“I—was asked to call,” he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece +of cotton from his trousers. “I come from ‘Maw and Meggins.’” + +The old lady started. “Is anything the matter?” she asked, +breathlessly. “Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is +it?” + +Her husband interposed. “There, there, mother,” he said, hastily. “Sit +down, and don’t jump to conclusions. You’ve not brought bad news, I’m +sure, sir;” and he eyed the other wistfully. + +“I’m sorry—” began the visitor. + +“Is he hurt?” demanded the mother, wildly. + +The visitor bowed in assent. “Badly hurt,” he said, quietly, “but he is +not in any pain.” + +“Oh, thank God!” said the old woman, clasping her hands. “Thank God for +that! Thank—” + +She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned +upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other’s +averted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted +husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long +silence. + +“He was caught in the machinery,” said the visitor at length in a low +voice. + +“Caught in the machinery,” repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, +“yes.” + +He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife’s hand +between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old +courting-days nearly forty years before. + +“He was the only one left to us,” he said, turning gently to the +visitor. “It is hard.” + +The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. “The firm +wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great +loss,” he said, without looking round. “I beg that you will understand +I am only their servant and merely obeying orders.” + +There was no reply; the old woman’s face was white, her eyes staring, +and her breath inaudible; on the husband’s face was a look such as his +friend the sergeant might have carried into his first action. + +“I was to say that ‘Maw and Meggins’ disclaim all responsibility,” +continued the other. “They admit no liability at all, but in +consideration of your son’s services, they wish to present you with a +certain sum as compensation.” + +Mr. White dropped his wife’s hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a +look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, “How +much?” + +“Two hundred pounds,” was the answer. + +Unconscious of his wife’s shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out +his hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the +floor. + + + + +III. + + +In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried +their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It +was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and +remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to +happen —something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for +old hearts to bear. + +But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation—the +hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes +they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, +and their days were long to weariness. + +It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the +night, stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in +darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He +raised himself in bed and listened. + +“Come back,” he said, tenderly. “You will be cold.” + +“It is colder for my son,” said the old woman, and wept afresh. + +The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his +eyes heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden +wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start. + +“_The paw!_” she cried wildly. “The monkey’s paw!” + +He started up in alarm. “Where? Where is it? What’s the matter?” + +She came stumbling across the room toward him. “I want it,” she said, +quietly. “You’ve not destroyed it?” + +“It’s in the parlour, on the bracket,” he replied, marvelling. “Why?” + +She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek. + +“I only just thought of it,” she said, hysterically. “Why didn’t I +think of it before? Why didn’t _you_ think of it?” + +“Think of what?” he questioned. + +“The other two wishes,” she replied, rapidly. “We’ve only had one.” + +“Was not that enough?” he demanded, fiercely. + +“No,” she cried, triumphantly; “we’ll have one more. Go down and get it +quickly, and wish our boy alive again.” + +The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs. +“Good God, you are mad!” he cried, aghast. + +“Get it,” she panted; “get it quickly, and wish—Oh, my boy, my boy!” + +Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. “Get back to bed,” he +said, unsteadily. “You don’t know what you are saying.” + +“We had the first wish granted,” said the old woman, feverishly; “why +not the second?” + +“A coincidence,” stammered the old man. + +“Go and get it and wish,” cried his wife, quivering with excitement. + +The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. “He has been +dead ten days, and besides he—I would not tell you else, but—I could +only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to +see then, how now?” + +“Bring him back,” cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door. +“Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?” + +He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then +to the mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear +that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he +could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as +he found that he had lost the direction of the door. His brow cold with +sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until +he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his +hand. + +Even his wife’s face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was +white and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look +upon it. He was afraid of her. + +“_Wish!_” she cried, in a strong voice. + +“It is foolish and wicked,” he faltered. + +“_Wish!_” repeated his wife. + +He raised his hand. “I wish my son alive again.” + +The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he +sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked +to the window and raised the blind. + +He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the +figure of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end, +which had burned below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing +pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker +larger than the rest, it expired. The old man, with an unspeakable +sense of relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back to his bed, +and a minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and +apathetically beside him. + +Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock. +A stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. +The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up +his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went +downstairs for a candle. + +At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike +another; and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be +scarcely audible, sounded on the front door. + +The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood +motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he +turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind +him. A third knock sounded through the house. + +[Illustration] + +“_What’s that?_” cried the old woman, starting up. + +“A rat,” said the old man in shaking tones—“a rat. It passed me on the +stairs.” + +His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the +house. + +“It’s Herbert!” she screamed. “It’s Herbert!” + +She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her +by the arm, held her tightly. + +“What are you going to do?” he whispered hoarsely. + +“It’s my boy; it’s Herbert!” she cried, struggling mechanically. “I +forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I +must open the door.” + +“For God’s sake don’t let it in,” cried the old man, trembling. + +“You’re afraid of your own son,” she cried, struggling. “Let me go. I’m +coming, Herbert; I’m coming.” + +There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden +wrench broke free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the +landing, and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He +heard the chain rattle back and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and +stiffly from the socket. Then the old woman’s voice, strained and +panting. + +“The bolt,” she cried, loudly. “Come down. I can’t reach it.” + +But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor +in search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside +got in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, +and he heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the +passage against the door. He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came +slowly back, and at the same moment he found the monkey’s paw, and +frantically breathed his third and last wish. + +The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in +the house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold +wind rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment +and misery from his wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and +then to the gate beyond. The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a +quiet and deserted road. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONKEY’S PAW *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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