Most dangerous game by Richard Connell part 4

[Red02102002]

   The man’s only answer was to raise with his thumb the hammer of his revolver. Then Rainsford saw the man’s free hand go to his forehead in a military salute, and he saw him click his heels together and stand at attention. Another man was coming down the broad marble steps, an erect, slender man in evening clothes. He advanced to Rainsford and held out his hand.
   In a voice marked by a slight accent that gave it added precision, he said: “It is a very great pleasure and honor to welcome Mr. Sanger Rainsford, the celebrated hunter, to my home.”
   Automatically Rainsford shook the man’s hand.
   “I’ve read your book about hunting snow leopards in Tibet, you see,” explained the man. “I am General Zaroff.”
   He was a tall man past middle age, for his hair was a vivid white; but his thick eyebrows and pointed military mustache were as black as the night from which Rainsford had com. His eyes, too, were black and very bright. He had high cheekbones, a sharp-cut nose, a spare, dark face-the face of a man used to giving orders, the face of an aristocrat. Turning to the giant in uniform, the general made a sign. The giant put away his pistol, saluted, withdrew.
   “Ivan is an incredibly strong fellow,” remarked the general, “but he has the misfortune to be deaf. A single fellow, but, I’m afraid, a bit of a savage.”
   “Is he Russian?”
   “He is a Cossack,” said the general, and his smile showed red lips and pointed teeth. “So am I.”
   “Come,” he said, “we shouldn’t be chatting here. We can talk later. Now you want clothes, food, and rest. You shall have them. This is a most restful spot.”
   Ivan had reappeared, and the general spoke to him with lips that moved but gave forth no sound.
   “Follow Ivan, if you please, Mr. Rainsford,” said the general. “I was about to have my dinner when you came. I’ll wait for you. You’ll find that my clothes will fit you, I think.”
   It was to a huge bedroom that Rainsford followed the silent giant. Ivan laid out an evening suit, and Rainsford, as he put it on, noticed that it came from a London tailor.
   The dining room to which Ivan conducted him was, in many ways, remarkable. There was magnificence about it, with its oak panels, its high ceiling, and its vast table where twoscore men could sit down to eat. About the hall were the mounted heads of many animals-lions, tigers, elephants, moose, bears; larger or more perfect specimens Rainsford had never seen. At the great table the general was sitting, alone. Rainsford noted the table appointments were of the finest-the linen, the crystal, the silver, the china.
   They were eating rich, red soup with sour cream. General Zaroff said: “We do our best here. Please forgive any lapses. We are well off the beaten track, you know.”
   Rainsford was finding the general a most thoughtful host. But there was one small trait of the general’s that made Rainsford uncomfortable. Whenever he looked up from his plate he found the general studying him.
   “Perhaps,” said General Zaroff, “you were surprised that I recognized your name. You see, I read all books on hunting published in English, French, and Russian. I have but one passion in my life, Mr. Rainsford, and it is the hunt.”
   “You have some wonderful heads here,” said Rainsford as he ate. “That Cape buffalo is the largest I ever saw.”