The Mouse Page #2

"The Mouse" is a short story by Hector Hugh Munro, better known by his pen name Saki. It centers around a seemingly innocuous gathering at the home of a seemingly harmless character, who becomes increasingly obsessed with a mouse that is spotted during the evening. As the narrative unfolds, the story explores themes of social etiquette, the absurdity of human behavior, and the unexpected consequences of seemingly trivial events. Munro's signature wit and keen observational skills shine through, making the story both entertaining and thought-provoking.

• Short story

								


Evidently she had detected something of his predicament, and was enjoying
his confusion.  All the blood in his body seemed to have mobilised in one
concentrated blush, and an agony of abasement, worse than a myriad mice,
crept up and down over his soul.  And then, as reflection began to assert
itself, sheer terror took the place of humiliation.  With every minute
that passed the train was rushing nearer to the crowded and bustling
terminus where dozens of prying eyes would be exchanged for the one
paralysing pair that watched him from the further corner of the carriage.
There was one slender despairing chance, which the next few minutes must
decide.  His fellow-traveller might relapse into a blessed slumber.  But
as the minutes throbbed by that chance ebbed away.  The furtive glance
which Theodoric stole at her from time to time disclosed only an
unwinking wakefulness.

"I think we must be getting near now," she presently observed.

Theodoric had already noted with growing terror the recurring stacks of
small, ugly dwellings that heralded the journey's end.  The words acted
as a signal.  Like a hunted beast breaking cover and dashing madly
towards some other haven of momentary safety he threw aside his rug, and
struggled frantically into his dishevelled garments.  He was conscious of
dull surburban stations racing past the window, of a choking, hammering
sensation in his throat and heart, and of an icy silence in that corner
towards which he dared not look.  Then as he sank back in his seat,
clothed and almost delirious, the train slowed down to a final crawl, and
the woman spoke.

"Would you be so kind," she asked, "as to get me a porter to put me into
a cab?  It's a shame to trouble you when you're feeling unwell, but being
blind makes one so helpless at a railway station."
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