Ledyard pulled his chair closer to the table. He looked sidelong at Alice, as she slipped back into the room and sat down without speaking by the long window. “I had suspicions. I have always denied the supernatural, as inconsistent with a rational view of the world. Yet tonight we saw it with our own eyes, the conclusion that my mind had thought of, but rejected. Philip Alderton is a loup-garou, a lycanthrope. We saw the beginning of the change. If you had not rendered him insensible, he would have killed Alice, and perhaps all of us. Even in his weakened condition Philip Alderton was stronger than any of us. In wolf form he would have been irresistible.”
“He would,” said Darwin. He seated himself opposite Ledyard, and rested his chin on his cupped hands. “But that is not relevant. Your confusion arises from a mistaken belief that the wonderful and the supernatural are the same thing. A mother’s feelings when she sees her baby’s first smile are not beyond the natural. They can be explained well enough by simple laws, that derive from animal urges to perpetuate the species. They are certainly not supernatural. But I would be the last person to assert that her feelings are not wonderful. That distinction is crucial, if we wish to understand the events at Alderton Manor in the last week—and in the past two hundred years.”
Jacob Pole had been standing listening to Darwin, a lit spill still in his hand ready to light his pipe. He swore as the heat reached his fingers, and dropped the spill hurriedly to the floor.
“Pox on it, Erasmus. I suppose you think you are making sense, but it’s all gibberish to me. What the devil has Philip Alderton’s change to a bestial form got to do with smiling babies? We’ve not seen one baby since we came to the manor.”
“Jacob, have you never heard of analogy?” Darwin sighed. “So much for simile. Well, we have time to spare until Philip Alderton wakes. A full explanation will be of interest to everyone.”
He turned to Bretherton, who had quietly entered carrying a board laden with meat pies, cold roast beef, and cheeses. “Is your Master comfortable?”
“Yes, sir. Two men are at his bedside. We will know as soon as he stirs.”
“He may be nauseated when he wakens. Cutting off the supply of blood to the brain, as I did, may produce that effect. You should be prepared for that possibility.”
“Yes, sir.” Bretherton turned, but he hesitated before going to the door. “Doctor, the men are afraid of Mister Alderton. They heard what happened here. Are they safe with him, or might he change again?”
“Heard it from you, I suppose,” said Darwin. “Tell them that they are perfectly safe.”
“But are they?” asked Alice, as soon as Bretherton had left the room. “If Dr. Ledyard be correct, could not Philip change again? It is still the full moon, and the wind still blows strong on the mill.”
“That will not happen. Dr. Ledyard has guessed a part of the truth, but as Philip Alderton’s fiancйe, you must understand everything. It is not pleasant. Tell me, my dear, did you know anything of Philip’s health, or the health of his family, before you came here?”
“Philip’s health was always robust. You have seen how quickly he recuperates from injury. But of his family, I know little. I assumed that they all enjoyed good health.”
“They did,” interrupted James Ledyard. “Charles Alderton was a good age when he died, and had good health prior to his fatal seizure.”
“Very well.” Darwin cut a piece of Caerphilly cheese. “So let us begin only with facts, unencumbered by any theories. You examined the wounds of Philip Alderton, Dr. Ledyard, and you also examined the body of Tom Barton. I believe you drew certain conclusions from those examinations. Would you tell me what they were.”
“They made me very uneasy,” replied Ledyard. “Philip’s wounds had been inflicted by an animal of some sort, that could not have been otherwise from their nature. But Barton’s wounds were different. There were cuts and tears in his skin, but they were not the cause of his death. His skull had been crushed by some terrible impact. I was uneasy when I saw that, and wondered if somehow he and Philip could have fought each other in the pit.”
“Which would reduce the mystery of the Immortal to a common assault,” said Darwin. “I could see no reason for you to discourage my medical examination, unless you suspected your own conclusions and thought to shield someone else from grief and scandal. I think I know whom you hoped to protect. But you missed something. You did not also examine the bodies of the hounds.”
“Of Cambyses and Berengaria?” Ledyard looked puzzled. “Why should I?”
“Why indeed?” said Pole. “Dammit, Erasmus, I told you you’d get nothing poking around inside a couple of dead dogs. It was the messiest business I’ve ever seen.”
“A trifle smelly, I suppose,” said Darwin cheerfully. “That is something to which any doctor quickly becomes accustomed.” He cut a thick slice of roast beef and happily began to apply mustard with a lavish hand. “But it was informative. Now, another fact. Alice, my dear, those hounds were part of the household. Who looked after their care and feeding? I feel sure that it was not Philip.”
“Barton looked after all the dogs,” said Alice. “It was part of his duties. And I suspect that it was his idea to take them along to the mill.”
“Which Philip Alderton readily agreed to,” said Darwin. “That should rule out your notion, Dr. Ledyard, that Alderton had any prior intention to attack Barton using the story of the Immortal as a cover. He would never have permitted the dogs in such a case.” He picked up a thick pie, sniffed at it closely, and laid it again on the table. “Well, what then of the hounds’ wounds? They were like Barton’s, not like Philip Alderton’s. Brains beat out against a hard surface—such as the wall of the pit. When I saw that, the conclusion was clear. Alderton did attack Barton, as you had surmised. The hounds defended Barton, and then themselves. Alderton somehow killed all three, but not without extensive wounds inflicted by the desperate hounds. I’m sorry, my dear,” he added, as Alice gave a low exclamation of horror. “That seemed to be the only explanation. Even with his great strength, it was hard to imagine how he could have done it. But had he done so, his wounds were inflicted by the dogs, not by the Lambeth Immortal. That was my thought, after examining men and hounds.”
“But you raise more questions than you answer,” protested Ledyard. “Charles Alderton also died in the pit, alone. And there has been a legend about the Beast that dwells there for hundreds of years.”
“I know,” said Darwin. “That was a real problem. As I told Jacob, the idea of an immortal being, or one with a vast lifetime, is anathema to me. It would be contrary to the survival of that species. So, I turned the question around. Accept that there had been strange events in the Alderton Pit for hundreds of years. What could it be, that could endure for five or more generations?”
The other three were silent. “Some kind of spirit?” ventured Alice.
“No spirits. For me, that would be the court of last resort, and contrary to all that I believe about the natural world. Is there anything else that could persist so long? I can think of one thing.”
He turned to Ledyard. “Doctor, forget the pit, the Immortal, and all the talk of supernatural events. Imagine that you had just entered the room tonight for the first time. You went to the pit, I know, to protect Alice from what you had come to fear as a werewolf. You may be comforted to know that I believe your attack on Philip Alderton truly saved Alice’s life. But suppose all that had not been in your mind. As a doctor, what would you have diagnosed in Philip Alderton, when he rose from that chair?”