The Mark of Merlin
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The Mark of Merlin». Краткое содержание книги:
The major came in with one more, unnecessary load of wood and shed his outer clothes.
“Say,” he began as he pulled up a chair to the table, “what did you find in the locker? Anything valuable?”
I looked at him blankly and then twisted around, wondering where the locker was.
“That’s funny. It was here in the room.”
“Yes, but did you find anything in it?”
“You just bet we did. Ancient Bibles, hundreds of years old, some absolutely unique French Colonial stamps, and guess what was in those cartridge boxes?”
“What?”
“Jewels stuck in dud shells and a boxful of gold and jeweled crosses.”
The major whistled expressively. I got up, peered out into the corridor, rummaged in the back porch, ducked my head into the study.
“I don’t understand it.”
“Think back, Carlysle. You say you went to the door? Had you finished with the footlocker?”
“Almost. Most of the stuff was back in for lack of a better place to put it.”
“Bailey and DeLord stayed in the kitchen when you went to the door, then? Long enough to clear the rest?”
“I think so. But where could they have put it then?”
“Did the MPs come into the kitchen at all?”
I closed my eyes to concentrate. I saw Turtle come to the door of the dining room, stand, crouch, turn, to be blocked by the lieutenant. Then the MPs came up, DeLord stayed in the doorway until Turtle went to get his coat from the back hall. One of the MPs must have gone with him but that’s when Beatty got so nasty. Then .”
“Beatty got nasty? How?” demanded the major and I realized I’d rehearsed that scene out loud.
“Just nasty,” I said, waving aside his interruption. “Then Turtle went with them. No, I’d gone to Turtle but I didn’t think to look in the kitchen. Yes, and the lieutenant showed them his papers and asked to come along. They agreed he could so he went to get his things. He took the Colt along, too.”
“When I drove up,” the major said thoughtfully, looking at me out of one corner of his eye, “you were at the door, Merlin was snarling, and Beatty was on the front stoep.”
“I’m only sorry Merlin was so weak,” I said with regret.
“So what happened to the locker?”
“There was no one else in the house. No one came in the back because Merlin would have warned me.”
“Well, somehow, between the time you went to the door and the time the MPs got in here, the locker got stashed away.”
Merlin growled, his head up, ears alert. I let out a disgusted breath.
“Oh, now what?”
The major turned quickly to me, a half smile on his face.
“That sounds more like my ward.”
We both went to check, of one mind on the advisability of screening visitors to this house. Merlin’s growl rumbled after us and cut off with a yip.
“Down, Merlin. Stay!” I ordered. He whined a protest but stayed.
A wood-paneled station wagon cautiously slowed to a halt on the snowy road. It appeared distorted, top-heavy. The slit lights went off and we saw the over-tall door open. No one emerged. The door hung ajar. Then a figure got out and seemed to keep on standing up like a cartoon drawing unexpectedly elongating. The door was closed and as the shadow of the tall figure separated from the shadow of the top-heavy car, we could see a familiar medical case swinging from the end of one long, long arm.
“The vet did come,” and I think I was as surprised as the major sounded.
He hastily opened the front door and, for all his own six-foot odd of height, he had to look up at the tall, tall man who entered.
“Major Laird?” an unexpectedly tenor voice asked.
“Dr. Karsh.”
“Have we met?” and the voice was unusually musical with no trace of a down-east accent.
“No, but I’ve heard of you.”
“Hmm. Wouldn’t doubt it for a minute.”
Merlin barked.
“My patient is in good voice.”
Merlin yipped because he had disobeyed me.
“Spoke too soon.”
The veterinarian ducked under the archway separating hall and dining room. I backed up instinctively so as not to have to crook my neck to see his face.
“My ward, Carlysle Murdock. Merlin is hers.”
“Quite a beast, I’m told. Twice told, young lady. Once by an excited coastguardsman of my acquaintance and once by a lieutenant, a calmer man but equally insistent that I should come.”
He swooshed his bag at me to indicate I should lead him to his patient. I scurried ahead into the kitchen.
Merlin got to his feet and stood there, swaying slightly, the major’s bandage bloody.
“Merlin, if you weren’t so sick, I’d beat you. You were told to stay.”
Ashamed, Merlin dropped his head, peering up at me with a woeful expression in his eyes. Then he jerked his head up, his jaw dropping as his dog face registered surprise.
“Ooooh,” and the doctor’s voice was a croon of delighted interest. “Now you are a magnificent fellow. You are indeed.”
The doctor’s voice was a marvelous singsong. He ignored us completely, heaving his bag to set it with a very soft plump on the kitchen table, although it must have been very heavy. Then he dropped to his knees by Merlin in a fluid movement. He didn’t attempt to touch the shepherd but he bent this way and that so he could see Merlin’s points in the undiffused kerosene light.
“What a dog! What a superb dog! Have you any idea, Merlin, what a sight you are to these tired eyes?”
Merlin was watching him, absolutely mesmerized.
“He’s hypnotized Merlin,” the major whispered, bending his head to my ear.
“I’ve never seen Merlin behave like this with anyone,” I murmured back, not wishing to interrupt this significant meeting.
Dr. Karsh placed his long-fingered hand under Merlin’s chin, his over-length thumb stroking the soft fur of the muzzle. Merlin’s eyes drooped sleepily, his head leaning into the supporting hand much as a tired child will cradle himself against his mother. With his free hand, the doctor explored Merlin’s body, the deep chest, the long back, the well-placed hips.
“Will you clear the table?” the doctor crooned, not changing his voice one decibel from the tone he was using to soothe Merlin. It took me a moment to realize he was talking to the humans in the room. The major and I jumped to his bidding.
With a deftness and speed that was an astonishing blend of individual motions, Dr. Karsh had lifted Merlin and placed him on his good side.
“The lights, so and so,” the doctor directed, waving fingers at two distinct levels. We complied.
“Now, young fellow me lad, let’s get a look at this outrage on one of nature’s grandest. As the lieutenant said, his was rough field surgery but I think he did extremely well. It’s only that you do not obey your mistress’ order to stay.” The major and I found we had to pay close attention to this dialogue, delivered in a rippling Irish tenor-like tessitura, for sometimes he was talking only to Merlin and sometimes to us. The doctor had by now washed his hands thoroughly and donned rubber gloves.
“Now this will not be pleasant, my sagacious friend Merlin, - a marvelous name for a magnificent specimen of Canis familiaris. I congratulate you, young Miss Carla,” and he paused briefly to prepare his curved needle with black gut, “on your perspicacity in seeing in a bumbling puppy the dignity of the adult dog to come. Or perhaps you created a personality for him to grow up to . Steady, this will hurt but not for long. There! Merlin is a sensible creature and knows that my hurt will cure . By eschewing the Rover-Chief-Rin-tin-tin mania, you gave him a goal of wisdom to acquire. For Merlin was a great magician and there is magic in the heart of a dog when he will defend his against the mechanical madnesses of men. Oh, one more and the worst of my ministrations are over. You can do yourself no more damage, my silver shepherd. This wound will heal, given God’s good time and what appears to be a superb constitution. There. Good boy! Not a word out of you. Brave lad.”