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The Werewolf Blood Trail: Tales of Gore, Terror & Hunt. Редьярд Джозеф КиплингЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Werewolf Blood Trail: Tales of Gore, Terror & Hunt - Редьярд Джозеф Киплинг


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astonishment an immense black wolf entered the room, walking on its hind legs. On reaching the middle of the floor, it sat down after the fashion of wolves, and looked hard and fixedly at the sabot-maker.

      Thibault seized a hatchet which was within reach, and in order to give a fit reception to his strange visitor, and to terrify him, he flourished the weapon above his head.

      A curious mocking expression passed over the face of the wolf, and then it began to laugh.

      It was the first time that Thibault had ever heard a wolf laugh. He had often heard tell that wolves barked like dogs, but never that they laughed like human beings. And what a laugh it was! If a man had laughed such a laugh, Thibault would verily and indeed have been scared out of his wits.

      He brought his lifted arm down again.

      “By my lord of the cloven foot,” said the wolf, in a full and sonorous voice, “you are a fine fellow! At your request, I send you the finest buck from His Royal Highness’s forests, and in return, you want to split my head open with your hatchet; human gratitude is worthy to rank with that of wolves.” On hearing a voice exactly like his own coming forth from a beast’s mouth, Thibault’s knees began to shake under him, and the hatchet fell out of his hand.

      “Now then,” continued the wolf, “let us be sensible and talk together like two good friends. Yesterday you wanted the Baron’s buck, and I led it myself into your shed, and for fear it should escape, I tied it up myself to the rack. And for all this you take your hatchet to me!”

      “How should I know who you were?” asked Thibault.

      “I see, you did not recognise me! A nice sort of excuse to give.”

      “Well, I ask you, was it likely I should take you for a friend under that ugly coat?”

      “Ugly coat, indeed!” said the wolf, licking his fur with a long tongue as red as blood. “Confound you! You are hard to please. However, it’s not a matter of my coat; what I want to know is, are you willing to make me some return for the service I have done you?”

      “Certainly,” said the shoe-maker, feeling rather uncomfortable! “but I ought to know what your demands are. What is it? What do you want? Speak!”

      “First of all, and above all things, I should like a glass of water, for those confounded dogs have run me until I am out of breath.”

      “You shall have it in a moment, my lord wolf.”

      And Thibault ran and fetched a bowl of fresh, clear water from a brook which ran some ten paces from the hut. The eager readiness with which he complied with the wolf’s request betrayed his feeling of relief at getting out of the bargain so cheaply.

      As he placed the bowl in front of the wolf, he made the animal a low bow. The wolf lapped up the contents with evident delight, and then stretched himself on the floor with his paws straight out in front of him, looking like a sphinx.

      “Now,” he said, “listen to me.”

      “There is something else you wish me to do,” asked Thibault, inwardly quaking.

      “Yes, a very urgent something,” replied the wolf. “Do you hear the baying of the dogs?”

      “Indeed I do, they are coming nearer and nearer, and in five minutes they will be here.”

      “And what I want you to do is to get me out of their way.”

      “Get you out of their way! and how?” cried Thibault, who but too well remembered what it had cost him to meddle with the Baron’s hunting the day before.

      “Look about you, think, invent some way of delivering me!”

      “The Baron’s dogs are rough customers to deal with, and you are asking neither more nor less than that I should save your life; for I warn you, if they once get hold of you, and they will probably scent you out, they will make short work of pulling you to pieces. And now supposing I spare you this disagreeable business,” continued Thibault, who imagined that he had now got the upper hand, “what will you do for me in return?”

      “Do for you in return?” said the wolf, “and how about the buck?”

      “And how about the bowl of water?” said Thibault.

      “We are quits there, my good sir. Let us start a fresh business altogether; if you are agreeable to it, I am quite willing.”

      “Let it be so then; tell me quickly what you want of me.”

      “There are folks,” proceeded Thibault, “who might take advantage of the position you are now in, and ask for all kinds of extravagant things, riches, power, titles, and what not, but I am not going to do anything of the kind; yesterday I wanted the buck, and you gave it me, it is true; to-morrow, I shall want something else. For some time past I have been possessed by a kind of mania, and I do nothing but wish first for one thing and then for another, and you will not always be able to spare time to listen to my demands. So what I ask for is, that, as you are the devil in person or someone very like it, you will grant me the fulfilment of every wish I may have from this day forth.”

      The wolf put on a mocking expression of countenance. “Is that all?” he said, “Your peroration does not accord very well with your exordium.”

      “Oh!” continued Thibault, “my wishes are honest and moderate ones, and such as become a poor peasant like myself. I want just a little corner of ground, and a few timbers, and planks; that’s all that a man of my sort can possibly desire.”

      “I should have the greatest pleasure in doing what you ask,” said the wolf, “but it is simply impossible, you know.”

      “Then I am afraid you must make up your mind to put up with what the dogs may do to you.”

      “You think so, and you suppose I have need of your help, and so you can ask what you please?”

      “I do not suppose it, I am sure of it.”

      “Indeed! well then, look.”

      “Look where,” asked Thibault.

      “Look at the spot where I was,” said the wolf. Thibault drew back in horror. The place where the wolf had been lying was empty; the wolf had disappeared, where or how it was impossible to say. The room was intact, there was not a hole in the roof large enough to let a needle through, nor a crack in the floor through which a drop of water could have filtered.

      “Well, do you still think that I require your assistance to get out of trouble,” said the wolf.

      “Where the devil are you?”

      “If you put a question to me in my real name,” said the wolf with a sneer in his voice, “I shall be obliged to answer you. I am still in the same place.”

      “But I can no longer see you!”

      “Simply because I am invisible.”

      “But the dogs, the huntsmen, the Baron, will come in here after you?”

      “No doubt they will, but they will not find me.”

      “But if they do not find you, they will set upon me.”

      “As they did yesterday; only yesterday you were sentenced to thirty-six strokes of the strap, for having carried off the buck; to-day, you will be sentenced to seventy-two, for having hidden the wolf, and Agnelette will not be on the spot to buy you off with a kiss.”

      “Phew! what am I to do?”

      “Let the buck loose; the dogs will mistake the scent, and they will get the blows instead of you.”

      “But is it likely such trained hounds will follow the scent of a deer in mistake for that of a wolf?”

      “You can leave that to me,” replied the voice, “only do not lose any time, or the dogs will be here before you have reached the shed, and that would make matters unpleasant, not for me, whom they would not find, but


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