The Elk

by H.H. Munro (SAKI)

　　

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Teresa, Mrs. Thropplestance, was the richest andmost intractable old woman in the county of Woldshire.In her dealings with the world in general her mannersuggested a blend between a Mistress of the Robes and aMaster of Foxhounds, with the vocabulary of both. In herdomestic circle she comported herself in the arbitrarystyle that one attributes, probably without the leastjustification, to an American political Boss in the bosomof his caucus. The late Theodore Thropplestance had lefther, some thirty-five years ago, in absolute possessionof a considerable fortune, a large landed property, and agallery full of valuable pictures. In those interveningyears she had outlived her son and quarrelled with herelder grandson, who had married without her consent orapproval. Bertie Thropplestance, her younger grandson,was the heir-designate to her property, and as such hewas a centre of interest and concern to some half-hundredambitious mothers with daughters of marriageable age.Bertie was an amiable, easy-going young man, who wasquite ready to marry anyone who was favourablyrecommended to his notice, but he was not going to wastehis time in falling in love with anyone who would comeunder his grandmother's veto. The favourablerecommendation would have to come from Mrs.Thropplestance.Teresa's house-parties were always rounded off witha plentiful garnishing of presentable young women andalert, attendant mothers, but the old lady wasemphatically discouraging whenever any one of her girlguests became at all likely to outbid the others as apossible granddaughter-in-law. It was the inheritance ofher fortune and estate that was in question, and she wasevidently disposed to exercise and enjoy her powers ofselection and rejection to the utmost. Bertie'spreferences did not greatly matter; he was of the sortwho can be stolidly happy with any kind of wife; he hadcheerfully put up with his grandmother all his life, sowas not likely to fret and fume over anything that mightbefall him in the way of a helpmate.The party that gathered under Teresa's roof inChristmas week of the year nineteen-hundred-and-somethingwas of smaller proportions than usual, and Mrs. Yonelet,who formed one of the party, was inclined to deducehopeful augury from this circumstance. Dora Yonelet andBertie were so obviously made for one another, sheconfided to the vicar's wife, and if the old lady wereaccustomed to seeing them about a lot together she mightadopt the view that they would make a suitable marriedcouple."People soon get used to an idea if it is dangledconstantly before their eyes," said Mrs. Yonelethopefully, "and the more often Teresa sees those youngpeople together, happy in each other's company, the moreshe will get to take a kindly interest in Dora as apossible and desirable wife for Bertie.""My dear," said the vicar's wife resignedly, "my ownSybil was thrown together with Bertie under the mostromantic circumstances - I'll tell you about it some day- but it made no impression whatever on Teresa; she puther foot down in the most uncompromising fashion, andSybil married an Indian civilian.""Quite right of her," said Mrs. Yonelet with vagueapproval; "it's what any girl of spirit would have done.Still, that was a year or two ago, I believe; Bertie isolder now, and so is Teresa. Naturally she must beanxious to see him settled."The vicar's wife reflected that Teresa seemed to bethe one person who showed no immediate anxiety to supplyBertie with a wife, but she kept the thought to herself.Mrs. Yonelet was a woman of resourceful energy andgeneralship; she involved the other members of the house-party, the deadweight, so to speak, in all manner ofexercises and occupations that segregated them fromBertie and Dora, who were left to their own devisings -that is to say, to Dora's devisings and Bertie'saccommodating acquiescence. Dora helped in the Christmasdecorations of the parish church, and Bertie helped herto help. Together they fed the swans, till the birdswent on a dyspepsia-strike, together they playedbilliards, together they photographed the villagealmshouses, and, at a respectful distance, the tame elkthat browsed in solitary aloofness in the park. It was"tame" in the sense that it had long ago discarded theleast vestige of fear of the human race; nothing in itsrecord encouraged its human neighbours to feel areciprocal confidence.Whatever sport or exercise or occupation Bertie andDora indulged in together was unfailingly chronicled andadvertised by Mrs. Yonelet for the due enlightenment ofBertie's grandmother."Those two inseparables have just come in from abicycle ride," she would announce; "quite a picture theymake, so fresh and glowing after their spin.""A picture needing words," would be Teresa's privatecomment, and as far as Bertie was concerned she wasdetermined that the words should remain unspoken.On the afternoon after Christmas Day Mrs. Yoneletdashed into the drawing-room, where her hostess wassitting amid a circle of guests and teacups and muffin-dishes. Fate had placed what seemed like a trump-card inthe hands of the patiently-manoeuvring mother. With eyesblazing with excitement and a voice heavily escorted withexclamation marks she made a dramatic announcement."Bertie has saved Dora from the elk!"In swift, excited sentences, broken with maternalemotion, she gave supplementary information as to how thetreacherous animal had ambushed Dora as she was huntingfor a strayed golf ball, and how Bertie had dashed to herrescue with a stable fork and driven the beast off in thenick of time."It was touch and go! She threw her niblick at it,but that didn't stop it. In another moment she wouldhave been crushed beneath its hoofs," panted Mrs.Yonelet."The animal is not safe," said Teresa, handing heragitated guest a cup of tea. "I forget if you takesugar. I suppose the solitary life it leads has souredits temper. There are muffins in the grate. It's not myfault; I've tried to get it a mate for ever so long. Youdon't know of anyone with a lady elk for sale orexchange, do you?" she asked the company generally.But Mrs. Yonelet was in no humour to listen to talkof elk marriages. The mating of two human beings was thesubject uppermost in her mind, and the opportunity foradvancing her pet project was too valuable to beneglected."Teresa," she exclaimed impressively, "after thosetwo young people have been thrown together sodramatically, nothing can be quite the same again betweenthem. Bertie has done more than save Dora's life; he hasearned her affection. One cannot help feeling that Fatehas consecrated them for one another.""Exactly what the vicar's wife said when Bertiesaved Sybil from the elk a year or two ago," observedTeresa placidly; "I pointed out to her that he hadrescued Mirabel Hicks from the same predicement a fewmonths previously, and that priority really belonged tothe gardener's boy, who had been rescued in the Januaryof that year. There is a good deal of sameness incountry life, you know.""It seems to be a very dangerous animal," said oneof the guests."That's what the mother of the gardener's boy said,"remarked Teresa; "she wanted me to have it destroyed, butI pointed out to her that she had eleven children and Ihad only one elk. I also gave her a black silk skirt;she said that though there hadn't been a funeral in herfamily she felt as if there had been. Anyhow, we partedfriends. I can't offer you a silk skirt, Emily, but youmay have another cup of tea. As I have already remarked,there are muffins in the grate."Teresa dosed the discussion, having deftly conveyedthe impression that she considered the mother of thegardener's boy had shown a far more reasonable spiritthan the parents of other elk-assaulted victims."Teresa is devoid of feeling," said Mrs. Yoneletafterwards to the vicar's wife; "to sit there, talking ofmuffins, with an appalling tragedy only narrowly averted- ""Of course you know whom she really intends Bertieto marry?" asked the vicar's wife; "I've noticed it forsome time. The Bickelbys' German governess.""A German governess! What an idea!" gasped Mrs.Yonelet."She's of quite good family, I believe," said thevicar's wife, "and not at all the mouse-in-the-back-ground sort of person that governesses are usuallysupposed to be. In fact, next to Teresa, she's about themost assertive and combative personality in theneighbourhood. She's pointed out to my husband all sortsof errors in his sermons, and she gave Sir Laurence apublic lecture on how he ought to handle the hounds. Youknow how sensitive Sir Laurence is about any criticism ofhis Mastership, and to have a governess laying down thelaw to him nearly drove him into a fit. She's behavedlike that to every one, except, of course, Teresa, andevery one has been defensively rude to her in return.The Bickelbys are simply too afraid of her to get rid ofher. Now isn't that exactly the sort of woman whomTeresa would take a delight in installing as hersuccessor? Imagine the discomfort and awkwardness in thecounty if we suddenly found that she was to be the futurehostess at the Hall. Teresa's only regret will be thatshe won't be alive to see it.""But," objected Mrs. Yonelet, "surely Bertie hasn'tshown the least sign of being attracted in that quarter?""Oh, she's quite nice-looking in a way, and dresseswell, and plays a good game of tennis. She often comesacross the park with messages from the Bickelby mansion,and one of these days Bertie will rescue her from theelk, which has become almost a habit with him, and Teresawill say that Fate has consecrated them to one another.Bertie might not be disposed to pay much attention to theconsecrations of Fate, but he would not dream of opposinghis grandmother."The vicar's wife spoke with the quiet authority ofone who has intuitive knowledge, and in her heart ofhearts Mrs. Yonelet believed her.Six months later the elk had to be destroyed. In afit of exceptional moroseness it had killed theBickelbys' German governess. It was an irony of its fatethat it should achieve popularity in the last moments ofits career; at any rate, it established, the record ofbeing the only living thing that had permanently thwartedTeresa Thropplestance's plans.Dora Yonelet broke off her engagement with an Indiancivilian, and married Bertie three months after hisgrandmother's death - Teresa did not long survive theGerman governess fiasco. At Christmas time every yearyoung Mrs. Thropplestance hangs an extra large festoon ofevergreens on the elk horns that decorate the hall."It was a fearsome beast," she observes to Bertie,"but I always feel that it was instrumental in bringingus together."Which, of course, was true.

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