142 GRIMALKIN THE CAT 
circuit of the walls he came back to the hearth again. 
The mouse lay where he had left it, and a bright 
red bead had risen among its fur. Grimalkin 
touched it stealthily with his tongue. It left a 
warm saline taste in his mouth a taste he had never 
known before the taste of fresh blood. He drew 
back licking his chops. All at once he felt afraid 
of this small still thing ; but the taste of the blood 
mounted to his head like strong wine. The beetles 
still ran to and fro upon the hearth, but he did 
not look at them. He felt a vague indescribable 
yearning for something. He was not cold nor 
hungry, nor thirsty nor in pain, and yet he was 
not comfortable. Grimalkin did not know that 
it was the taste of the blood which had awakened 
this strange indefinable desire in him ; nevertheless 
it was so, and an instinct was roused which would 
make it impossible for him to spend another night 
between four walls. 
The shutter of the window was carelessly fastened, 
and a sudden draught of air blew it in. 
The lower half of the casement was open, 
anc * *ke m nt wind bore in the rustle of 
the trees, and the sough of the breeze in 
the laurel bush by the wall the laurel 
bush which formed a bridge from the 
yard to the woods, across which so 
