The Monkey’s Paw / Обезьянья лапа

“Just to try the air, sir,” said George, following his master's glance, “a well gets rather foul sometimes, but if a candle can live down it, a man can.”

His master nodded, and the man, hastily pulling up the neck of his shirt and thrusting his arms into his coat, followed him as he led the way slowly to the well.

“Beg pardon, sir,” said George, drawing up to his side, “but you are not looking over and above well this morning. If you'll let me go down I'd enjoy the bath.”

“No, no,” said Benson, peremptorily.

“You ain't fit to go down, sir,” persisted his follower. “I've never seen you look so before. Now if-”

“Mind your business,” said his master curtly.

George became silent and the three walked with swinging strides through the long wet grass to the well. Bob flung the rope on the ground and at a sign from his master handed him the candlestick.

“Here's the line for it, sir,” said Bob, fumbling in his pockets.

Benson took it from him and slowly tied it to the candlestick.

“Hold hard, sir,” said George, quickly, laying his hand on his arm, “you must tilt it or the string'll burn through.”

Even as he spoke the string parted and the candlestick fell into the water below.

Benson swore quietly.

“I'll soon get another,” said George, starting up.

“Never mind, the well's all right,” said Benson.

“It won't take a moment, sir,” said the other over his shoulder.

“Are you master here, or am I?” said Benson hoarsely.

George came back slowly, a glance at his master's face stopping the protest upon his tongue, and he stood by watching him sulkily as he sat on the well and removed his outer garments. Both men watched him curiously, as having completed his preparations he stood grim and silent with his hands by his sides.

“I wish you'd let me go, sir,” said George, plucking up courage to address him. “You ain't fit to go, you've got a chill or something. I shouldn't wonder it's the typhoid. They've got it in the village bad.”

For a moment Benson looked at him angrily, then his gaze softened. “Not this time, George,” he said, quietly. He took the looped end of the rope and placed it under his arms, and sitting down threw one leg over the side of the well.