3
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
One day, about two weeks later, von Horn and the
professor were occupied closely with their work in the
court of mystery. Developments were coming in riotous
confusion. A recent startling discovery bade fare to
simplify and expedite the work far beyond the fondest
dreams of the scientist.
Von Horn's interest in the marvellous results that had
been obtained was little short of the professor's--
but he foresaw a very different outcome of it all,
and by day never moved without a gun at either hip,
and by night both of them were beside him.
Sing Lee, the noonday meal having been disposed of, set
forth with rod, string and bait to snare gulls upon the
beach. He moved quietly through the jungle, his sharp
eyes and ears always alert for anything that might
savor of the unusual, and so it was that he saw the two
men upon the beach, while they did not see him at all.
They were Bududreen and the same tall Malay whom Sing
had seen twice before--once in splendid raiment and
commanding the pirate prahu, and again as a simple
boatman come to the Ithaca to trade, but without the
goods to carry out his professed intentions.
The two squatted on the beach at the edge of the jungle
a short distance above the point at which Sing had been
about to emerge when he discovered them, so that it was
but the work of a moment or two for the Chinaman to
creep stealthily through the dense underbrush to a
point directly above them and not three yards from
where they conversed in low tones--yet sufficiently
loud that Sing missed not a word.
"I tell you, Bududreen, that it will be quite safe,"
the tall Malay was saying. "You yourself tell me that
none knows of the whereabouts of these white men, and
if they do not return your word will be accepted as to
their fate. Your reward will be great if you bring the
girl to me, and if you doubt the loyalty of any of your
own people a kris will silence them as effectually as
it will silence the white men."
"It is not fear of the white men, oh, Rajah Muda
Saffir, that deters me," said Bududreen, "but how shall
I know that after I have come to your country with the
girl I shall not myself be set upon and silenced with a
golden kris--there be many that will be jealous of the
great service I have done for the mighty rajah."
Muda Saffir knew perfectly well that Bududreen had but
diplomatically expressed a fear as to his own royal
trustworthiness, but it did not anger him, since the
charge was not a direct one; but what he did not know
was of the heavy chest and Bududreen's desire to win
the price of the girl and yet be able to save for
himself a chance at the far greater fortune which he
knew lay beneath that heavy oaken lid.
Both men had arisen now and were walking across the
beach toward a small, native canoe in which Muda Saffir
had come to the meeting place. They were out of
earshot before either spoke again, so that what further
passed between them Sing could not even guess, but he
had heard enough to confirm the suspicions he had
entertained for a long while.
He did not fish for gulls that day. Bududreen and Muda
Saffir stood talking upon the beach, and the Chinaman
did not dare venture forth for fear they might suspect
that he had overheard them. If old Sing Lee knew his
Malays, he was also wise enough to give them credit for
knowing their Chinamen, so he waited quietly in hiding
until Muda Saffir had left, and Bududreen returned to camp.
Professor Maxon and von Horn were standing over one of
the six vats that were arranged in two rows down the
center of the laboratory. The professor had been more
communicative and agreeable today than for some time
past, and their conversation had assumed more of the
familiarity that had marked it during the first month
of their acquaintance at Singapore.
"And what of these first who are so imperfect?" asked
von Horn. "You cannot take them into civilization, nor
would it be right to leave them here upon this island.
What will you do with them?"
Professor Maxon pondered the question for a moment.
"I have given the matter but little thought," he said
at length. "They are but the accidents of my great
work. It is unfortunate that they are as they are, but
without them I could have never reached the perfection
that I am sure we are to find here," and he tapped
lovingly upon the heavy glass cover of the vat before
which he stood. "And this is but the beginning. There
can be no more mistakes now, though I doubt if we can
ever improve upon that which is so rapidly developing
here." Again he passed his long, slender hand
caressingly over the coffin-like vat at the head of
which was a placard bearing the words, NUMBER THIRTEEN.
"But the others, Professor!" insisted von Horn.
"We must decide. Already they have become a problem of no
small dimensions. Yesterday Number Five desired some
plantains that I had given to Number Seven. I tried to
reason with him, but, as you know, he is mentally
defective, and for answer he rushed at Number Seven to
tear the coveted morsel from him. The result was a
battle royal that might have put to shame two Bengal
tigers. Twelve is tractable and intelligent. With his
assistance and my bull whip I succeeded in separating
them before either was killed. Your greatest error was
in striving at first for such physical perfection. You
have overdone it, with the result that the court of
mystery is peopled by a dozen brutes of awful
muscularity, and scarcely enough brain among the dozen
to equip three properly."
"They are as they are," replied the professor.
"I shall do for them what I can--when I am gone they must
look to themselves. I can see no way out of it."
"What you have given you may take away," said von Horn,
in a low tone.
Professor Maxon shuddered. Those three horrid days in
the workshop at Ithaca flooded his memory with all the
gruesome details he had tried for so many months to
forget. The haunting ghosts of the mental anguish that
had left him an altered man--so altered that there were
times when he had feared for his sanity!
"No, no!" he almost shouted. "It would be murder.
They are--"
"They are THINGS," interrupted von Horn. "They are
not human--they are not even beast. They are terrible,
soulless creatures. You have no right to permit them
to live longer than to substantiate your theory. None
but us knows of their existence--no other need know of
their passing. It must be done. They are a constant and
growing menace to us all, but most of all to your daughter."
A cunning look came into the professor's eyes.
"I understand," he said. "The precedent once established,
all must perish by its edict--even those which may not be
grotesque or bestial--even this perfect one," and he touched
again the vat, "and thus you would rid yourself of rival suitors.
But no!" he went on in a high, trembling voice. "I shall not be
led to thus compromise myself, and be thwarted in my cherished plan.
Be this one what he may he shall wed my daughter!"
The man had raised himself upon his toes as he reached
his climax--his clenched hand was high above his head--
his voice fairly thundered out the final sentence, and
with the last word he brought his fist down upon the
vat before him. In his eyes blazed the light of
unchained madness.
Von Horn was a brave man, but he shuddered at the
maniacal ferocity of the older man, and shrank back.
The futility of argument was apparent, and he turned
and left the workshop.
Sing Lee was late that night. In fact he did not
return from his fruitless quest for gulls until well
after dark, nor would he vouchsafe any explanation of
the consequent lateness of supper. Nor could he be
found shortly after the evening meal when Virginia
sought him.
Not until the camp was wrapped in the quiet of slumber
did Sing Lee return--stealthy and mysterious--to creep
under cover of a moonless night to the door of the
workshop. How he gained entrance only Sing Lee knows,
but a moment later there was a muffled crash of broken
glass within the laboratory, and the Chinaman had
slipped out, relocked the door, and scurried to his
nearby shack. But there was no occasion for his haste--
no other ear than his had heard the sound within the
workshop.
It was almost nine the following morning before
Professor Maxon and von Horn entered the laboratory.
Scarcely had the older man passed the doorway than he
drew up his hands in horrified consternation. Vat
Number Thirteen lay dashed to the floor--the glass
cover was broken to a million pieces--a sticky,
brownish substance covered the matting.
Professor Maxon hid his face in his hands.
"God!" he cried. "It is all ruined. Three more days
would have--"
"Look!" cried von Horn. "It is not too soon."
Professor Maxon mustered courage to raise his eyes from
his hands, and there he beheld, seated in a far corner
of the room a handsome giant, physically perfect. The
creature looked about him in a dazed, uncomprehending
manner. A great question was writ large upon his
intelligent countenance. Professor Maxon stepped
forward and took him by the hand.
"Come," he said, and led him toward a smaller room off
the main workshop. The giant followed docilely, his
eyes roving about the room--the pitiful questioning
still upon his handsome features. Von Horn turned
toward the campong.
Virginia, deserted by all, even the faithful Sing, who,
cheated of his sport on the preceding day, had again
gone to the beach to snare gulls, became restless of
the enforced idleness and solitude. For a time she
wandered about the little compound which had been
reserved for the whites, but tiring of this she decided
to extend her stroll beyond the palisade, a thing which
she had never before done unless accompanied by von Horn--
a thing both he and her father had cautioned her against.
"What danger can there be?" she thought. "We know that
the island is uninhabited by others than ourselves, and
that there are no dangerous beasts. And, anyway, there
is no one now who seems to care what becomes of me,
unless--unless--I wonder if he does care. I wonder if
I care whether or not he cares. Oh, dear, I wish I knew,"
and as she soliloquized she wandered past the little clearing
and into the jungle that lay behind the campong.
As von Horn and Professor Maxon talked together in the
laboratory before the upsetting of vat Number Thirteen,
a grotesque and horrible creature had slunk from the
low shed at the opposite side of the campong until it
had crouched at the flimsy door of the building in
which the two men conversed. For a while it listened
intently, but when von Horn urged the necessity for
dispatching certain "terrible, soulless creatures" an
expression of intermingled fear and hatred convulsed
the hideous features, and like a great grizzly it
turned and lumbered awkwardly across the campong toward
the easterly, or back wall of the enclosure.
Here it leaped futilely a half dozen times for the top
of the palisade, and then trembling and chattering in
rage it ran back and forth along the base of the
obstacle, just as a wild beast in captivity paces
angrily before the bars of its cage.
Finally it paused to look once more at the senseless
wood that barred its escape, as though measuring the
distance to the top. Then the eyes roamed about the
campong to rest at last upon the slanting roof of the
thatched shed which was its shelter. Presently a slow
idea was born in the poor, malformed brain.
The creature approached the shed. He could just reach
the saplings that formed the frame work of the roof.
Like a huge sloth he drew himself to the roof of the
structure. From here he could see beyond the palisade,
and the wild freedom of the jungle called to him. He
did not know what it was but in its leafy wall he
perceived many breaks and openings that offered
concealment from the creatures who were plotting to
take his life.
Yet the wall was not fully six feet from him, and the
top of it at least five feet above the top of the shed--
those who had designed the campong had been careful to
set this structure sufficiently far from the palisade
to prevent its forming too easy an avenue of escape.
The creature glanced fearfully toward the workshop.
He remembered the cruel bull whip that always followed
each new experiment on his part that did not coincide
with the desires of his master, and as he thought of
von Horn a nasty gleam shot his mismated eyes.
He tried to reach across the distance between the roof
and the palisade, and in the attempt lost his balance
and nearly precipitated himself to the ground below.
Cautiously he drew back, still looking about for some
means to cross the chasm. One of the saplings of the
roof, protruding beyond the palm leaf thatch, caught
his attention. With a single wrench he tore it from
its fastenings. Extending it toward the palisade he
discovered that it just spanned the gap, but he dared
not attempt to cross upon its single slender strand.
Quickly he ripped off a half dozen other poles from the
roof, and laying them side by side, formed a safe and
easy path to freedom. A moment more and he sat astride
the top of the wall. Drawing the poles after him, he
dropped them one by one to the ground outside the
campong. Then he lowered himself to liberty.
Gathering the saplings under one huge arm he ran,
lumberingly, into the jungle. He would not leave
evidence of the havoc he had wrought; the fear of the
bull whip was still strong upon him. The green foliage
closed about him and the peaceful jungle gave no sign
of the horrid brute that roamed its shadowed mazes.
As von Horn stepped into the campong his quick eye
perceived the havoc that had been wrought with the roof
at the east end of the shed. Quickly he crossed to the
low structure. Within its compartments a number of
deformed monsters squatted upon their haunches, or lay
prone upon the native mats that covered the floor.
As the man entered they looked furtively at the bull
whip which trailed from his right hand, and then
glanced fearfully at one another as though questioning
which was the malefactor on this occasion.
Von Horn ran his eyes over the hideous assemblage.
"Where is Number One?" he asked, directing his question
toward a thing whose forehead gave greater promise of
intelligence than any of his companions.
The one addressed shook his head.
Von Horn turned and made a circuit of the campong.
There was no sign of the missing one and no indication
of any other irregularity than the demolished portion
of the roof. With an expression of mild concern upon
his face he entered the workshop.
"Number One has escaped into the jungle, Professor," he said.
Professor Maxon looked up in surprise, but before he
had an opportunity to reply a woman's scream, shrill
with horror, smote upon their startled ears.
Von Horn was the first to reach the campong of the
whites. Professor Maxon was close behind him,
and the faces of both were white with apprehension.
The enclosure was deserted. Not even Sing was there.
Without a word the two men sprang through the gateway
and raced for the jungle in the direction from which
that single, haunting cry had come.
Virginia Maxon, idling beneath the leafy shade of the
tropical foliage, became presently aware that she had
wandered farther from the campong than she had intended.
The day was sultry, and the heat, even in the dense shade
of the jungle, oppressive. Slowly she retraced her steps,
her eyes upon the ground, her mind absorbed in sad consideration
of her father's increasing moodiness and eccentricity.
Possibly it was this very abstraction which deadened
her senses to the near approach of another. At any
rate the girl's first intimation that she was not alone
came when she raised her eyes to look full into the
horrid countenance of a fearsome monster which blocked
her path toward camp.
The sudden shock brought a single involuntary scream
from her lips. And who can wonder! The thing thrust
so unexpectedly before her eyes was hideous in the
extreme. A great mountain of deformed flesh clothed in
dirty, white cotton pajamas! Its face was of the ashen
hue of a fresh corpse, while the white hair and pink eyes
denoted the absence of pigment; a characteristic of albinos.
One eye was fully twice the diameter of the other, and
an inch above the horizontal plane of its tiny mate.
The nose was but a gaping orifice above a deformed and
twisted mouth. The thing was chinless, and its small,
foreheadless head surrounded its colossal body like a
cannon ball on a hill top. One arm was at least twelve
inches longer than its mate, which was itself long in
proportion to the torso, while the legs, similarly
mismated and terminating in huge, flat feet that
protruded laterally, caused the thing to lurch fearfully
from side to side as it lumbered toward the girl.
A sudden grimace lighted the frightful face as the
grotesque eyes fell upon this new creature. Number One
had never before seen a woman, but the sight of this
one awoke in the unplumbed depths of his soulless
breast a great desire to lay his hands upon her. She
was very beautiful. Number One wished to have her for
his very own; nor would it be a difficult matter, so
fragile was she, to gather her up in those great, brute
arms and carry her deep into the jungle far out of
hearing of the bull-whip man and the cold, frowning one
who was continually measuring and weighing Number One
and his companions, the while he scrutinized them with
those strange, glittering eyes that frightened one even
more than the cruel lash of the bull whip.
Number One lurched forward, his arms outstretched
toward the horror stricken girl. Virginia tried to cry
out again--she tried to turn and run; but the horror of
her impending fate and the terror that those awful
features induced left her paralyzed and helpless.
The thing was almost upon her now. The mouth was wide
in a hideous attempt to smile. The great hands would
grasp her in another second--and then there was a
sudden crashing of the underbrush behind her, a yellow,
wrinkled face and a flying pig-tail shot past her, and
the brave old Sing Lee grappled with the mighty monster
that threatened her.
The battle was short--short and terrible. The valiant
Chinaman sought the ashen throat of his antagonist, but
his wiry, sinewy muscles were as reeds beneath the
force of that inhuman power that opposed them. Holding
the girl at arm's length in one hand, Number One tore
the battling Chinaman from him with the other, and
lifting him bodily above his head, hurled him stunned
and bleeding against the bole of a giant buttress tree.
Then lifting Virginia in his arms once more he dived
into the impenetrable mazes of the jungle that lined
the more open pathway between the beach and camp.
