He didn t mind me; in fact, he took a fancy to me, for at the time
when he saw me first I was a youngster of twelve or so. This would be
in the year 1878, after he had been eight or nine years in England. He
begged my father to let me live with him and he was very kind to me in
his way. When he was sober he used to be fond of playing backgammon and
draughts with me, and he would make me his representative both with the
servants and with the tradespeople, so that by the time that I was
sixteen I was quite master of the house. I kept all the keys and could
go where I liked and do what I liked, so long as I did not disturb him
in his privacy. There was one singular exception, however, for he had a
single room, a lumber-room up among the attics, which was invariably
locked, and which he would never permit either me or anyone else to
enter. With a boy s curiosity I have peeped through the keyhole, but I
was never able to see more than such a collection of old trunks and
bundles as would be expected in such a room.
One day it was in March, 1883 a letter with a foreign stamp lay upon
the table in front of the colonel s plate. It was not a common thing
for him to receive letters, for his bills were all paid in ready money,
and he had no friends of any sort. From India! said he as he took it
up, Pondicherry postmark! What can this be? Opening it hurriedly, out
there jumped five little dried orange pips, which pattered down upon
his plate. I began to laugh at this, but the laugh was struck from my
lips at the sight of his face. His lip had fallen, his eyes were
protruding, his skin the colour of putty, and he glared at the envelope
which he still held in his trembling hand, K. K. K.! he shrieked, and
then, My God, my God, my sins have overtaken me!
What is it, uncle? I cried.
Death, said he, and rising from the table he retired to his room,
leaving me palpitating with horror. I took up the envelope and saw
scrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the gum, the letter
K three times repeated. There was nothing else save the five dried
pips. What could be the reason of his overpowering terror? I left the
breakfast-table, and as I ascended the stair I met him coming down with
an old rusty key, which must have belonged to the attic, in one hand,
and a small brass box, like a cashbox, in the other.
They may do what they like, but I ll checkmate them still, said he
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