LEONARD BILSITER was one of those people who have
failed to find this world attractive or interesting, and
who have sought compensation in an "unseen world" of
their own experience or imagination - or invention.
Children do that sort of thing successfully, but children
are content to convince themselves, and do not vulgarise
their beliefs by trying to convince other people.
Leonard Bilsiter's beliefs were for "the few," that is to
say, anyone who would listen to him.
His dabblings in the unseen might not have carried
him beyond the customary platitudes of the drawing-room
visionary if accident had not reinforced his stock-in-
trade of mystical lore. In company with a friend, who
was interested in a Ural mining concern, he had made a
trip across Eastern Europe at a moment when the great
Russian railway strike was developing from a threat to a
reality; its outbreak caught him on the return journey,
somewhere on the further side of Perm, and it was while
waiting for a couple of days at a wayside station in a
state of suspended locomotion that he made the
acquaintance of a dealer in harness and metalware, who
profitably whiled away the tedium of the long halt by
initiating his English travelling companion in a
fragmentary system of folk-lore that he had picked up
from Trans-Baikal traders and natives. Leonard returned
to his home circle garrulous about his Russian strike
experiences, but oppressively reticent about certain dark
mysteries, which he alluded to under the resounding title
of Siberian Magic. The reticence wore off in a week or
two under the influence of an entire lack of general
curiosity, and Leonard began to make more detailed
allusions to the enormous powers which this new esoteric
force, to use his own description of it, conferred on the
initiated few who knew how to wield it. His aunt,
Cecilia Hoops, who loved sensation perhaps rather better
than she loved the truth, gave him as clamorous an
advertisement as anyone could wish for by retailing an
account of how he had turned a vegetable marrow into a
wood pigeon before her very eyes. As a manifestation of
the possession of supernatural powers, the story was
discounted in some quarters by the respect accorded to
Mrs. Hoops' powers of imagination.
However divided opinion might be on the question of
Leonard's status as a wonderworker or a charlatan, he
certainly arrived at Mary Hampton's house-party with a
reputation for pre-eminence in one or other of those
professions, and he was not disposed to shun such
publicity as might fall to his share. Esoteric forces
and unusual powers figured largely in whatever
conversation he or his aunt had a share in, and his own
performances, past and potential, were the subject of
mysterious hints and dark avowals.
"I wish you would turn me into a wolf, Mr.
Bilsiter," said his hostess at luncheon the day after his
arrival.
"My dear Mary," said Colonel Hampton, "I never knew
you had a craving in that direction."
"A she-wolf, of course," continued Mrs. Hampton; it
would be too confusing to change one's sex as well as
one's species at a moment's notice."
"I don't think one should jest on these subjects,"
said Leonard.
"I'm not jesting, I'm quite serious, I assure you.
Only don't do it to-day; we have only eight available
bridge players, and it would break up one of our tables.
To-morrow we shall be a larger party. To-morrow night,
after dinner - "
"In our present imperfect understanding of these
hidden forces I think one should approach them with
humbleness rather than mockery," observed Leonard, with
such severity that the subject was forthwith dropped.
Clovis Sangrail had sat unusually silent during the
discussion on the possibilities of Siberian Magic; after
lunch he side-tracked Lord Pabham into the comparative
seclusion of the billiard-room and delivered himself of a
searching question.
"Have you such a thing as a she-wolf in your
collection of wild animals? A she-wolf of moderately
good temper?"
Lord Pabham considered. "There is Loiusa," he said,
"a rather fine specimen of the timber-wolf. I got her
two years ago in exchange for some Arctic foxes. Most of
my animals get to be fairly tame before they've been with
me very long; I think I can say Louisa has an angelic
temper, as she-wolves go. Why do you ask?"
"I was wondering whether you would lend her to me
for to-morrow night," said Clovis, with the careless
solicitude of one who borrows a collar stud or a tennis
racquet.
"To-morrow night?"
"Yes, wolves are nocturnal animals, so the late
hours won't hurt her," said Clovis, with the air of one
who has taken everything into consideration; "one of your
men could bring her over from Pabham Park after dusk, and
with a little help he ought to be able to smuggle her
into the conservatory at the same moment that Mary
Hampton makes an unobtrusive exit."
Lord Pabham stared at Clovis for a moment in
pardonable bewilderment; then his face broke into a
wrinkled network of laughter.
"Oh, that's your game, is it? You are going to do a
little Siberian Magic on your own account. And is Mrs.
Hampton willing to be a fellow-conspirator?"
"Mary is pledged to see me through with it, if you
will guarantee Louisa's temper."
"I'll answer for Louisa," said Lord Pabham.
By the following day the house-party had swollen to
larger proportions, and Bilsiter's instinct for self-
advertisement expanded duly under the stimulant of an
increased audience. At dinner that evening he held forth
at length on the subject of unseen forces and untested
powers, and his flow of impressive eloquence continued
unabated while coffee was being served in the drawing-
room preparatory to a general migration to the card-room.
His aunt ensured a respectful hearing for his
utterances, but her sensation-loving soul hankered after
something more dramatic than mere vocal demonstration.
"Won't you do something to CONVINCE them of your
powers, Leonard?" she pleaded; "change something into
another shape. He can, you know, if he only chooses to,"
she informed the company.
"Oh, do," said Mavis Pellington earnestly, and her
request was echoed by nearly everyone present. Even
those who were not open to conviction were perfectly
willing to be entertained by an exhibition of amateur
conjuring.
Leonard felt that something tangible was expected of
him.
"Has anyone present," he asked, "got a three-penny
bit or some small object of no particular value -?"
"You're surely not going to make coins disappear, or
something primitive of that sort?" said Clovis
contemptuously.
"I think it very unkind of you not to carry out my
suggestion of turning me into a wolf," said Mary Hampton,
as she crossed over to the conservatory to give her
macaws their usual tribute from the dessert dishes.
"I have already warned you of the danger of treating
these powers in a mocking spirit," said Leonard solemnly.
"I don't believe you can do it," laughed Mary
provocatively from the conservatory; "I dare you to do it
if you can. I defy you to turn me into a wolf."
As she said this she was lost to view behind a clump
of azaleas.
"Mrs. Hampton - " began Leonard with increased
solemnity, but he got no further. A breath of chill air
seemed to rush across the room, and at the same time the
macaws broke forth into ear-splitting screams.
"What on earth is the matter with those confounded
birds, Mary?" exclaimed Colonel Hampton; at the same
moment an even more piercing scream from Mavis Pellington
stampeded the entire company from their seats. In
various attitudes of helpless horror or instinctive
defence they confronted the evil-looking grey beast that
was peering at them from amid a setting of fern and
azalea.
Mrs. Hoops was the first to recover from the general
chaos of fright and bewilderment.
"Leonard!" she screamed shrilly to her nephew, "turn
it back into Mrs. Hampton at once! It may fly at us at
any moment. Turn it back!"
"I - I don't know how to," faltered Leonard, who
looked more scared and horrified than anyone.
"What!" shouted Colonel Hampton, "you've taken the
abominable liberty of turning my wife into a wolf, and
now you stand there calmly and say you can't turn her
back again!"
To do strict justice to Leonard, calmness was not a
distinguishing feature of his attitude at the moment.
"I assure you I didn't turn Mrs. Hampton into a
wolf; nothing was farther from my intentions," he
protested.
"Then where is she, and how came that animal into
the conservatory?" demanded the Colonel.
"Of course we must accept your assurance that you
didn't turn Mrs. Hampton into a wolf," said Clovis
politely, "but you will agree that appearances are
against you."
"Are we to have all these recriminations with that
beast standing there ready to tear us to pieces?" wailed
Mavis indignantly.
"Lord Pabham, you know a good deal about wild beasts
- " suggested Colonel Hampton.
"The wild beasts that I have been accustomed to,"
said Lord Pabham, "have come with proper credentials from
well-known dealers, or have been bred in my own
menagerie. I've never before been confronted with an
animal that walks unconcernedly out of an azalea bush,
leaving a charming and popular hostess unaccounted for.
As far as one can judge from OUTWARD characteristics," he
continued, "it has the appearance of a well-grown female
of the North American timber-wolf, a variety of the
common species CANIS LUPUS."
"Oh, never mind its Latin name," screamed Mavis, as
the beast came a step or two further into the room;
"can't you entice it away with food, and shut it up where
it can't do any harm?"
"If it is really Mrs. Hampton, who has just had a
very good dinner, I don't suppose food will appeal to it
very strongly," said Clovis.
"Leonard," beseeched Mrs. Hoops tearfully, "even if
this is none of your doing can't you use your great
powers to turn this dreadful beast into something
harmless before it bites us all - a rabbit or something?"
"I don't suppose Colonel Hampton would care to have
his wife turned into a succession of fancy animals as
though we were playing a round game with her," interposed
Clovis.
"I absolutely forbid it," thundered the Colonel.
"Most wolves that I've had anything to do with have
been inordinately fond of sugar," said Lord Pabham; "if
you like I'll try the effect on this one."
He took a piece of sugar from the saucer of his
coffee cup and flung it to the expectant Louisa, who
snapped it in mid-air. There was a sigh of relief from
the company; a wolf that ate sugar when it might at the
least have been employed in tearing macaws to pieces had
already shed some of its terrors. The sigh deepened to a
gasp of thanks-giving when Lord Pabham decoyed the animal
out of the room by a pretended largesse of further sugar.
There was an instant rush to the vacated conservatory.
There was no trace of Mrs. Hampton except the plate
containing the macaws' supper.
"The door is locked on the inside!" exclaimed
Clovis, who had deftly turned the key as he affected to
test it.
Everyone turned towards Bilsiter.
"If you haven't turned my wife into a wolf," said
Colonel Hampton, "will you kindly explain where she has
disappeared to, since she obviously could not have gone
through a locked door? I will not press you for an
explanation of how a North American timber-wolf suddenly
appeared in the conservatory, but I think I have some
right to inquire what has become of Mrs. Hampton."
Bilsiter's reiterated disclaimer was met with a
general murmur of impatient disbelief.
"I refuse to stay another hour under this roof,"
declared Mavis Pellington.
"If our hostess has really vanished out of human
form," said Mrs. Hoops, "none of the ladies of the party
can very well remain. I absolutely decline to be
chaperoned by a wolf!"
"It's a she-wolf," said Clovis soothingly.
The correct etiquette to be observed under the
unusual circumstances received no further elucidation.
The sudden entry of Mary Hampton deprived the discussion
of its immediate interest.
"Some one has mesmerised me," she exclaimed crossly;
"I found myself in the game larder, of all places, being
fed with sugar by Lord Pabham. I hate being mesmerised,
and the doctor has forbidden me to touch sugar."
The situation was explained to her, as far as it
permitted of anything that could be called explanation.
"Then you REALLY did turn me into a wolf, Mr.
Bilsiter?" she exclaimed excitedly.
But Leonard had burned the boat in which he might
now have embarked on a sea of glory. He could only shake
his head feebly.
"It was I who took that liberty," said Clovis; "you
see, I happen to have lived for a couple of years in
North-Eastern Russia, and I have more than a tourist's
acquaintance with the magic craft of that region. One
does not care to speak about these strange powers, but
once in a way, when one hears a lot of nonsense being
talked about them, one is tempted to show what Siberian
magic can accomplish in the hands of someone who really
understands it. I yielded to that temptation. May I
have some brandy? the effort has left me rather faint."
If Leonard Bilsiter could at that moment have
transformed Clovis into a cockroach and then have stepped
on him he would gladly have performed both operations.
-THE END-
The She-Wolf, a short story by Saki [H H Munro]
From the collection 'Beasts and Super-Beasts'
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