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courage to begin。 〃The six dead birds were Minorcas； the
seventh was a Houdan with a mop of feathers all over its
eyes。 It could hardly see the snake at all； so of course
it wasn't mesmerised like the others。 It just could see
something wriggling on the ground； and went for it and
pecked it to death。〃
〃Well； I'm blessed！〃 exclaimed the chorus。
In the course of the next few days Blenkinthrope
discovered how little the loss of one's self…respect
affects one when one has gained the esteem of the world。
His story found its way into one of the poultry papers；
and was copied thence into a daily news…sheet as a matter
of general interest。 A lady wrote from the North of
Scotland recounting a similar episode which she had
witnessed as occurring between a stoat and a blind
grouse。 Somehow a lie seems so much less reprehensible
when one can call it a lee。
For awhile the adapter of the Seventh Pullet story
enjoyed to the full his altered standing as a person of
consequence； one who had had some share in the strange
events of his times。 Then he was thrust once again into
the cold grey background by the sudden blossoming into
importance of Smith…Paddon； a daily fellow…traveller；
whose little girl had been knocked down and nearly hurt
by a car belonging to a musical…comedy actress。 The
actress was not in the car at the time； but she was in
numerous photographs which appeared in the illustrated
papers of Zoto Dobreen inquiring after the well…being of
Maisie； daughter of Edmund Smith…Paddon； Esq。 With this
new human interest to absorb them the travelling
companions were almost rude when Blenkinthrope tried to
explain his contrivance for keeping vipers and peregrine
falcons out of his chicken…run。
Gorworth； to whom he unburdened himself in private；
gave him the same counsel as heretofore。
〃Invent something。〃
〃Yes； but what？〃
The ready affirmative coupled with the question
betrayed a significant shifting of the ethical
standpoint。
It was a few days later that Blenkinthrope revealed
a chapter of family history to the customary gathering in
the railway carriage。
〃Curious thing happened to my aunt； the one who
lives in Paris；〃 he began。 He had several aunts； but
they were all geographically distributed over Greater
London。
〃She was sitting on a seat in the Bois the other
afternoon； after lunching at the Roumanian Legation。〃
Whatever the story gained in picturesqueness from
the dragging…in of diplomatic 〃atmosphere；〃 it ceased
from that moment to command any acceptance as a record of
current events。 Gorworth had warned his neophyte that
this would be the case； but the traditional enthusiasm of
the neophyte had triumphed over discretion。
〃She was feeling rather drowsy； the effect probably
of the champagne； which she's not in the habit of taking
in the middle of the day。〃
A subdued murmur of admiration went round the
company。 Blenkinthrope's aunts were not used to taking
champagne in the middle of the year； regarding it
exclusively as a Christmas and New Year accessory。
〃Presently a rather portly gentleman passed by her
seat and paused an instant to light a cigar。 At that
moment a youngish man came up behind him； drew the blade
from a swordstick； and stabbed him half a dozen times
through and through。 'Scoundrel；' he cried to his
victim； 'you do not know me。 My name is Henri Leturc。'
The elder man wiped away some of the blood that was
spattering his clothes； turned to his assailant； and
said： ‘And since when has an attempted assassination been
considered an introduction？' Then he finished lighting
his cigar and walked away。 My aunt had intended
screaming for the police； but seeing the indifference
with which the principal in the affair treated the matter
she felt that it would be an impertinence on her part to
interfere。 Of course I need hardly say she put the whole
thing down to the effects of a warm； drowsy afternoon and
the Legation champagne。 Now comes the astonishing part
of my story。 A fortnight later a bank manager was
stabbed to death with a swordstick in that very part of
the Bois。 His assassin was the son of a charwoman
formerly working at the bank； who had been dismissed from
her job by the manager on account of chronic
intemperance。 His name was Henri Leturc。〃
From that moment Blenkinthrope was tacitly accepted
as the Munchausen of the party。 No effort was spared to
draw him out from day to day in the exercise of testing
their powers of credulity； and Blenkinthrope； in the
false security of an assured and receptive audience；
waxed industrious and ingenious in supplying the demand
for marvels。 Duckby's satirical story of a tame otter
that had a tank in the garden to swim in； and whined
restlessly whenever the water…rate was overdue； was
scarcely an unfair parody of some of Blenkinthrope's
wilder efforts。 And then one day came Nemesis。
Returning to his villa one evening Blenkinthrope
found his wife sitting in front of a pack of cards； which
she was scrutinising with unusual concentration。
〃The same old patience…game？〃 he asked carelessly。
〃No； dear； this is the Death's Head patience； the
most difficult of them all。 I've never got it to work
out； and somehow I should be rather frightened if I did。
Mother only got it out once in her life； she was afraid
of it； too。 Her great…aunt had done it once and fallen
dead from excitement the next moment； and mother always
had a feeling that she would die if she ever got it out。
She died the same night that she did it。 She was in bad
health at the time； certainly； but it was a strange
coincidence。〃
〃Don't do it if it frightens you；〃 was
Blenkinthrope's practical comment as he left the room。 A
few minutes later his wife called to him。
〃John； it gave me such a turn； I nearly got it out。
Only the five of diamonds held me up at the end。 I
really thought I'd done it。〃
〃Why； you can do it；〃 said Blenkinthrope； who had
come back to the room； 〃if you shift the eight of clubs
on to that open nine the five can be moved on to the
six。〃
His wife made the suggested move with hasty；
trembling fingers； and piled the outstanding cards on to
their respective packs。 Then she followed the example of
her mother and great…grand…aunt。
Blenkinthrope had been genuinely fond of his wife；
but in the midst of his bereavement one dominant thought
obtruded itself。 Something sensational and real had at
last come into his life； no longer was it a grey；
colourless record。 The headlines which might
appropriately describe his domestic tragedy kept shaping
themselves in his brain。 〃Inherited presentiment comes
true。〃 〃The Death's Head patience： Card…game that
justified its sinister name in three generations。〃 He