William The Conqueror by Richmal Crompton Read Free Book Online

his heart.
    ‘Puss! Puss! Puss!’ he said through the darkness.
    There was no response.
    ‘Good dog!’ he panted. ‘Rats! Cats! Fetch ’em out! Come for a walk! On trust! Where’s that bone? Good dog, then! Good dog!’
    There was no response.
    Something fairly large, not a cat or a dog, banged against the summer-house. Could it be a donkey or a sheep or a cow? Oh, couldn’t it be a donkey or a sheep or a cow? He peered
anxiously over the edge of the roof.
    ‘Hee-haw!’ he greeted the unknown with eager propitiation in his voice. ‘Ba-a-a-a! Moo-oo-oo!’
    For answer there came through the darkness a low growl. It certainly wasn’t a cat or a dog or a donkey or a cow. It was certainly a leopard. He’d never heard a leopard’s voice
before (for the matter of that he had never seen a leopard before), but there was no doubt that this was a leopard’s voice. Through the darkness came the sound of teeth chattering. They
weren’t the leopard’s. Then the man on the summer-house began to think out plans. He leant over the edge and gave a ferocious growl. The growl that answered his through the darkness
made his blood curdle.
    ‘Oh-h-h-h-h!’ he moaned. ‘Oh-h-h! My holy aunt!’
    The Thing was prowling round and round the summer-house. Mr Falkner saw himself suddenly as he might be in the morning light – a mass of whitened bones – or did the creatures eat you
bones and all? The tears rolled down his fat cheeks at the thought.
    Soon he realised that all was silent. Perhaps the creature had gone away again. He waited for what seemed hours. Still silence. Surely now he might creep back to the house. He lowered one foot
cautiously from the roof. Then he gave a yell. Something had grabbed at it in the darkness. He wrenched it free and cowered on his roof rubbing it.
    ‘Oh-h-h-h-h!’ he moaned. ‘Oh-h-h-h! My holy aunt!’
    The agony of that night will live for ever in the memory of the leopard hunter. Most terrible was the moment when the leopard tried to clamber up the summer-house.
    Sometimes there was silence for so long that the weary watchman almost fell asleep (he had given up all thoughts of escape), but no sooner did he doze than the creature below would arouse him by
growls and bumps or threatening sniffs.
    Mr Falkner was cold and miserable. Every bone in his body ached. And the creature would not let him rest. It growled on one side of his roof and drove him to the other. Then it growled on the
other side and drove him back again. Many times did his moaning ‘Oh-h-h-h-h-h!’ fall upon the midnight air.
    Mr Falkner had had no idea before that a night was so long. It was an eternity. He dared not strike a match to look at his watch in case the creature should spring. But he was sure that it was
longer than any other night had ever been. It was a phenomenon. It was like a month of nights. But at last the first faint rays of dawn appeared. They grew less faint. Mr Falkner’s pallid,
anxious, dishevelled countenance peered over the edge of his roof. He could hear no sound.
    Then he saw it – saw it unmistakably – a leopard’s head among the bushes. With a sudden spasm of desperate courage he took his gun, shut his eyes and fired. And he hit it. By a
miracle he hit it. He saw it roll over among the bushes. Then all was still. He waited. After about half an hour he descended cautiously from his perch. He dared not approach his ‘bag’.
He had heard terrible stories of the ferocity of wild animals in their death throes.

    THEN MR FALKNER SAW, UNMISTAKABLY, A LEOPARD’S HEAD AMONG THE BUSHES. HE TOOK HIS GUN.
    He tiptoed slowly and furtively to the front door.
    They all met at breakfast. Both Mr Falkner and William looked as though they had spent sleepless nights. But Mr Falkner, though pale, was his usual debonair self.

    ‘Any luck?’ said Mr Brown.
    ‘Oh, yes,’ said Mr Falkner carelessly, ‘I got the brute. Found him in your garden, too. Came upon him face to face in the path. He