The Uttermost Farthing / A Savant's Vendetta

er. The outlook of the narrator is so evidently abnormal, his ethical standards are so remote from those ordinarily current, that the chroni

o those who struggled against undeserved misfortune, will be an ample s

iminal anthropologist and had formerly been well known as a comparative anatomist, but when I made his acquaintance he seemed to be occupied chiefly in making endless additions to the specimens in his private museum. This collection I could never quite und

y interested me deeply. He gave me the impression of a man naturally buoyant, genial, witty, whose life had been blighted by some great sorrow. Ordinarily sad and grave in manner, he exhibited flashes of a grim, fantastic humor that came as a delightful surprise and showed wha

as feeling perfectly well; but a certain, indefinable change in his appearance had made me a little uneasy. I said nothing to him on the s

ppearance shocked me. There was no doubt now as to the gravity of his condition. His head appeared almost to have doubled in size. His face was bloated, his featur

e a pumpkin, by Jove! I've changed the size of my collars three times in a month and the new ones are too tight already." He laughed-a

r horrible grin. "Don't like this softening of the classic outlines, hey? Well, I'

nceal my opinion of his case. Something inside his chest was pressing on the great veins of the neck and arms. That something was either an aneurysm or a solid tumor. A brief examination, to which he s

m. There's a finality about an aneurysm. It gives you fair notice so that you may settle

e, you know, I'm only asking from curiosity; and I don't expect you to give a

said huskily, "it may be four

ob and rounded up my affairs generally, so that I am ready whenever i

urbance from the general engorgement, I followed him without remark. Slowly we passed down the corridor that led to the "museum wing," walked through the ill-smelling laboratories (for Chal

ons of animals, all diseased, deformed or abnormal. On the floor-space under the whale stood the skeletons of a camel and an aurochs. The camel was affected with rickets and the aurochs had multiple exostoses or bony tumors. At one end of the room was a large case of skulls, all deforme

n skeletons were distinguished merely by a number and a date on the pedestal; and, second, whereas all the other specimens illustrated some disease or deformity, these were, apparently, quite normal or showed only some trif

ction inside out," said Challo

ty well, I thin

ow it at all,

could write a catalog

"you have never seen the real gems of the co

lanced in at the skeletons in the great case with a faint and very horrible smile on his b

, why you have distinguished this one b

on a pedestal of ebonized wood on which was a number and a date painted in white, excepting the end one

ade the collection complete. So I marked it with a distinctive pedestal. You w

th mahogany paneling. Each panel was about four feet wide by five high, was bordered

urns a catch. Then you do this." He grasped the pilaster on each side of the panel, gave a gentle pull, and panel and pilasters came away bodily, exposing a mod

o keep or give away or destroy, as you think fit. The books consist of a finger-print album, a portrait album, a catalogue and a history o

ection, side by side on the table. When they were arranged to his satisfaction, he too

ly realistic and yet so unnatural! I can only describe the impression they produced by that much-misused word "weird." They were uncanny in the

, of genuine mustache and beard hairs of full length and very closely set. Some were made to represent clean-shaven men, and some even showed two or three days' growth of stubble; which stubble was disproportionately long and most unnaturally dense. The eyes of all were closed and the eyelashes formed a thick, projecting brush. But despite the abnormal treatment of the hairy parts, these little heads had the most astonishingly realistic appearance and were, as

ound him regarding me with an

ctions, Challoner," said I. "What a

id he. "Why, the same as you

aimed, "that these little he

in and human hair. Wha

frown and finally said that I d

rd of the Mundurucú

d. "What about

aturalist on the Amazon," and there is a refer

not without awe, at the open boxes. Final

examples of the

e features, the tiny ears, the bristling hair, the frowning eye-brows-so discordant with the placid expression and peacefully closed eyes-a chil

t these things, C

bited again that stra

specimen is fully described there and the history of its acquirement and

oment on the disagreement between the appearance of the heads

never prepared by thos

y n

opeans; in fact, most of

rplexity, but at this moment my eye noted a further detail which-I

ck labels with white numbers and dates; this one has a compartment lined with red velvet and a red label with a gold number and date, just as in t

and with their acquirement my collection was complete. They were the final specimens and I have added nothing since I got them. But in the case of the

my eye. And then, even without the lens, I could see what Challoner meant. The hair presented an excessively rare abno

s really human

ple of ringed hair; the only one,

wn in its compartment, "nor," I added, "have I ever seen or heard of any

nd them. And now we'll put them away." He placed the lids on the boxes, and, when I had stowed them away in the

asked, adding, "I am quite presentable at table,

ure; I am not officially back at work yet.

emony. But he was quite cheerful; in fact, he seemed in quite high spirits, and in the intervals of s

esultory and not very profuse; but when the cloth was removed and the

gar, Wharton? Won't shorte

. I replied by pushing the box towards him, and, when he had selected a ci

tonight, Wharton; to treat you

fy your own inclinations and

erested when you come to go through the museum by the light of the little history that you are going to hear. For you must know that my life for the last twenty

lloner had always seemed to me the very ty

not now. The malice of sorrow and misfortune loses its power as I near the end of my p

I was nothing to look at, was double her age, was only moderately well off and had no special standing either socially or in the world of science. But she married me and, as I may say, she married me handsomely; by which I mean that she always treated our marriage as a great stroke of good fortune for her, as if the advantages were all on her side instead of on mine. As a result, we were absolutely devoted to each other. Our life was all that married life could be and that it so seldom is. We were inseparable. In

utual love that grew from day to day, unti

n the en

atched him with an uncomfortable premonition of something disagreeable in the sequel of his narra

fect happiness of two human beings was shattere

f a start and the feeling that something had happened. I immediately missed my wife and sat up in bed to listen. Faint creakings and sounds of movement were audi

ng flash close to my face and a deafening explosion; and when I recovered my sight, the form of a man appeared for an instant d

y into the dining-room and was creeping towards the place where the matches were kept when my bare foot t

the first glimmer of the flame turned my deadly fear into yet more deadly realization. My wife lay on the hearth-rug, her upturned face as white as

died in an instant. That, too, I saw. And though I called her by her name and whispered words of tenderness into

f, when I heard a soft step descending the stairs. It came nearer. The door opened and someone stole into the room on tip-toe. It was the housemaid, Harratt. She stood stock still when she saw us and stared and uttered strange whimpering cries like a frightened dog. And then, suddenly, she turned and s

den of solitary existence was not to be entertained for a moment. The only question was how, and I debated this in leisurely fashion, sitting on the floor with Kate's hand in mine. I had a pistol upstairs and, of course, there were keen-edged scalpel

sideration arose. My wife would have to be buried. By some hands she must be laid in her last resti

Then another footstep was heard on the stairs and the cook, Wilson, came into the room. She, like the housemaid, stopped dead when she saw my wife's corpse, and stoo

, and then glanced around the room. The origin of the tragedy was obvious. The household plate had been taken out of the plate chest in the pantry and laid out on the end of the dining table. There the things stood, their polished surfaces sullied by the greasy finger-marks of the wretch who had murdered my wife. At those tell-tale marks I looked with new and growing interest. Finger-prints, in those days, had not yet been recognized by the public or the police as effective means of identification. But they were well kno

f which the prints were very distinct. These I placed in a drawer of the bureau, and, turning

nd the cook. The latter looked at me with evident fea

lls me there's someth

my wife's corpse. He took off his helmet and asked rather gruffly how it happened. I gave him a brief accoun

losely. I repeated my statement and saw at once that they did not believe me; that they suspected me of having committed th

nd-bag had disappeared too; which put a new complexion on the matter. Then the officers examined the plate and looked at the finger-marks on it. The constable discovered the tuft of hair in my

e body as bearing on the time at which death took place. The police took possession of some of the plate

found. The coroner's jury returned a verdict of 'wilful murder' against some person unknown. And that was the end of the matter. I a

t. It was evident to me from the first that the police would never capture that villain. And yet he had to b

mained unpaid. I have tried to make the time pass by getting my little collection together and studying the very instructive sp

I ventured to ask: "

t it is

caught, then,

e was c

that the scoundrel met with his desert

answered quietly,

e discover him, af

Museum Archives' are, in a sense, a personal diary; my life has been wrapped up in the museum and I have associated all the actions of my life with the collection. I think you will understand when you read it. A

ing it much later than I had s

like this," I said. "You ought t

exclaimed he. "I don't go to bed nowadays. Haven

I said, "at any rate, let me make you comfortable fo

Anatomy' and stack the volumes close to the edge of the table. Then set up Parker's 'Monograph on the Shoulder-girdle' in a slanting position against them. Fine book,

. He laid his arms on the massive monograph, rested his forehead on them and murmured cheerfully that he should now be quite comfortable until the morning. I wished him "good-night" and walked slowl

isease made more rapid progress even than I had expected; but he was always bright

than usual, and when the housemaid o

nswered. "He's getting most awful

he now?"

-room, sir; I think

ph. I walked up to him and spoke his name softly, but he did not rouse. I leaned over him and listened, but no sound or movement of bre