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Toys of Peace-Part5_H.H.Munro(Saki)(1870-1916)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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beloved pet? I never have. I believe she only fusses over it when



there's some one present to notice her."

"I don't mind admitting," said Strudwarden, "that I've dwelt more



than once lately on the possibility of some fatal accident putting

an end to Louis's existence. It's not very easy, though, to arrange



a fatality for a creature that spends most of its time in a muff or

asleep in a toy kennel. I don't think poison would be any good;



it's obviouslyhorribly over-fed, for I've seen Lena offer it

dainties at table sometimes, but it never seems to eat them."



"Lena will be away at church on Wednesday morning," said Elsie

Strudwarden reflectively; "she can't take Louis with her there, and



she is going on to the Dellings for lunch. That will give you

several hours in which to carry out your purpose. The maid will be



flirting with the chauffeur most of the time, and, anyhow, I can

manage to keep her out of the way on some pretext or other."



"That leaves the field clear," said Strudwarden, "but unfortunately

my brain is equally a blank as far as any lethal project is



concerned. The little beast is so monstrously inactive; I can't

pretend that it leapt into the bath and drowned itself, or that it



took on the butcher's mastiff in unequalcombat and got chewed up.

In what possible guise could death come to a confirmed basket-



dweller? It would be too suspicious if we invented a Suffragette

raid and pretended that they invaded Lena's boudoir and threw a



brick at him. We should have to do a lot of other damage as well,

which would be rather a nuisance, and the servants would think it



odd that they had seen nothing of the invaders."

"I have an idea," said Elsie; "get a box with an air-tight lid, and



bore a small hole in it, just big enough to let in an indiarubber

tube. Pop Louis, kennel and all, into the box, shut it down, and



put the other end of the tube over the gas-bracket. There you have

a perfect lethal chamber. You can stand the kennel at the open



window afterwards, to get rid of the smell of gas, and all that Lena

will find when she comes home late in the afternoon will be a



placidly defunct Louis."

"Novels have been written about women like you," said Strudwarden;



"you have a perfectlycriminal mind. Let's come and look for a

box."



Two mornings later the conspirators stood gazing guiltily at a stout

square box, connected with the gas-bracket by a length of



indiarubber tubing.

"Not a sound," said Elsie; "he never stirred; it must have been



quite painless. All the same I feel rather horrid now it's done."

"The ghastly part has to come," said Strudwarden, turning off the



gas. "We'll lift the lid slowly, and let the gas out by degrees.

Swing the door to and fro to send a draught through the room."



Some minutes later, when the fumes had rushed off, he stooped down

and lifted out the little kennel with its grim burden. Elsie gave



an exclamation of terror. Louis sat at the door of his dwelling,

head erect and ears pricked, as coldly and defiantly inert as when



they had put him into his executionchamber. Strudwarden dropped

the kennel with a jerk, and stared for a long moment at the miracle-



dog; then he went into a peal of chattering laughter.

It was certainly a wonderful imitation of a truculent-looking toy



Pomeranian, and the apparatus that gave forth a wheezy bark when you

pressed it had materially helped the imposition that Lena, and



Lena's maid, had foisted on the household. For a woman who disliked

animals, but liked getting her own way under a halo of



unselfishness, Mrs. Strudwarden had managed rather well.

"Louis is dead," was the curt information that greeted Lena on her



return from her luncheon party.

"Louis DEAD!" she exclaimed.



"Yes, he flew at the butcher-boy and bit him, and he bit me, too,

when I tried to get him off, so I had to have him destroyed. You



warned me that he snapped, but you didn't tell me that he was

downright dangerous. I shall have to pay the boy something heavy by



way of compensation, so you will have to go without those buckles

that you wanted to have for Easter; also I shall have to go to



Vienna to consult Dr. Schroeder, who is a specialist on dog-bites,

and you will have to come too. I have sent what remains of Louis to



Rowland Ward to be stuffed; that will be my Easter gift to you

instead of the buckles. For Heaven's sake, Lena, weep, if you



really feel it so much; anything would be better than standing there

staring as if you thought I had lost my reason."






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