{"id":1703,"date":"2026-07-11T22:33:56","date_gmt":"2026-07-11T22:33:56","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/centauriweb.hu\/en\/?p=1703"},"modified":"2026-07-11T22:35:13","modified_gmt":"2026-07-11T22:35:13","slug":"h-h-munro-saki-the-blind-spot","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/centauriweb.hu\/en\/h-h-munro-saki-the-blind-spot\/","title":{"rendered":"Short story by H. H. Munro (Saki): The Blind Spot"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cYou\u2019ve just come back from Adelaide\u2019s funeral, haven\u2019t you?\u201d said Sir Lulworth to his nephew; \u201cI suppose it was very like most other funerals?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI\u2019ll tell you all about it at lunch,\u201d said Egbert.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll do nothing of the sort.  It wouldn\u2019t be respectful either to your great-aunt\u2019s memory or to the lunch.  We begin with Spanish olives, then a borshch, then more olives and a bird of some kind, and a rather enticing Rhenish wine, not at all expensive as wines go in this country, but still quite laudable in its way.  Now there\u2019s absolutely nothing in that menu that harmonises in the least with the subject of your great-aunt Adelaide or her funeral.  She was a charming woman, and quite as intelligent as she had any need to be, but somehow she always reminded me of an English cook\u2019s idea of a Madras curry.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cShe used to say you were frivolous,\u201d said Egbert. <\/h2>\r\n

Something in his tone suggested that he rather endorsed the verdict.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI believe I once considerably scandalised her by declaring that clear soup was a more important factor in life than a clear conscience.  She had very little sense of proportion.  By the way, she made you her principal heir, didn\u2019t she?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cYes,\u201d said Egbert, \u201cand executor as well.  It\u2019s in that connection that I particularly want to speak to you.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cBusiness is not my strong point at any time,\u201d said Sir Lulworth, \u201cand certainly not when we\u2019re on the immediate threshold of lunch.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIt isn\u2019t exactly business,\u201d explained Egbert, as he followed his uncle into the dining-room. \u201cIt\u2019s something rather serious.  Very serious.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThen we can\u2019t possibly speak about it now,\u201d said Sir Lulworth; \u201cno one could talk seriously during a borshch.  A beautifully constructed borshch, such as you are going to experience presently, ought not only to banish conversation but almost to annihilate thought.  Later on, when we arrive at the second stage of olives, I shall be quite ready to discuss that new book on Borrow, or, if you prefer it, the present situation in the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg.  But I absolutely decline to talk anything approaching business till we have finished with the bird.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

For the greater part of the meal, Egbert sat in an abstracted silence,<\/h2>\r\n

the silence of a man whose mind is focused on one topic.  When the coffee stage had been reached, he launched himself suddenly athwart his uncle\u2019s reminiscences of the Court of Luxemburg.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI think I told you that great-aunt Adelaide had made me her executor.  There wasn\u2019t very much to be done in the way of legal matters, but I had to go through her papers.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThat would be a fairly heavy task in itself.  I should imagine there were reams of family letters.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cStacks of them, and most of them highly uninteresting.  There was one packet, however, which I thought might repay a careful perusal.  It was a bundle of correspondence from her brother Peter.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThe Canon of tragic memory,\u201d said Lulworth.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cExactly, of tragic memory, as you say; a tragedy that has never been fathomed.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cProbably the simplest explanation was the correct one,\u201d said Sir Lulworth; \u201che slipped on the stone staircase and fractured his skull in falling.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Egbert shook his head.  \u201cThe medical evidence all went to prove that the blow on the head was struck by some one coming up behind him.  A wound caused by violent contact with the steps could not possibly have been inflicted at that angle of the skull.  They experimented with a dummy figure falling in every conceivable position.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cBut the motive?\u201d exclaimed Sir Lulworth; \u201cno one had any interest in doing away with him, and the number of people who destroy Canons of the Established Church for the mere fun of killing must be extremely limited.  Of course there are individuals of weak mental balance who do that sort of thing, but they seldom conceal their handiwork; they are more generally inclined to parade it.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cHis cook was under suspicion,\u201d said Egbert shortly.<\/h2>\r\n

\u201cI know he was,\u201d said Sir Lulworth, \u201csimply because he was about the only person on the premises at the time of the tragedy. But could anything be sillier than trying to fasten a charge of murder on to Sebastien? He had nothing to gain, in fact, a good deal to lose, from the death of his employer.  The Canon was paying him quite as good wages as I was able to offer him when I took him over into my service.  I have since raised them to something a little more in accordance with his real worth, but at the time he was glad to find a new place without troubling about an increase of wages.  People were fighting rather shy of him, and he had no friends in this country.  No; if anyone in the world was interested in the prolonged life and unimpaired digestion of the Canon it would certainly be Sebastien.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cPeople don\u2019t always weigh the consequences of their rash acts,\u201d said Egbert, \u201cotherwise there would be very few murders committed.  Sebastien is a man of hot temper.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cHe is a southerner,\u201d admitted Sir Lulworth; \u201cto be geographically exact I believe he hails from the French slopes of the Pyrenees.  I took that into consideration when he nearly killed the gardener\u2019s boy the other day for bringing him a spurious substitute for sorrel.  One must always make allowances for origin and locality and early environment; \u2018Tell me your longitude and I\u2019ll know what latitude to allow you,\u2019 is my motto.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThere, you see,\u201d said Egbert, \u201che nearly killed the gardener\u2019s boy.\u201d<\/h2>\r\n

\u201cMy dear Egbert, between nearly killing a gardener\u2019s boy and altogether killing a Canon there is a wide difference.  No doubt you have often felt a temporary desire to kill a gardener\u2019s boy; you have never given way to it, and I respect you for your self-control.  But I don\u2019t suppose you have ever wanted to kill an octogenarian Canon.  Besides, as far as we know, there had never been any quarrel or disagreement between the two men.  The evidence at the inquest brought that out very clearly.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cAh!\u201d said Egbert, with the air of a man coming at last into a deferred inheritance of conversational importance, \u201cthat is precisely what I want to speak to you about.\u201d He pushed away his coffee cup and drew a pocket-book from his inner breast-pocket.  From the depths of the pocket-book he produced an envelope, and from the envelope he extracted a letter, closely written in a small, neat handwriting. \u201cOne of the Canon\u2019s numerous letters to Aunt Adelaide,\u201d he explained, \u201cwritten a few days before his death.  Her memory was already failing when she received it, and I daresay she forgot the contents as soon as she had read it;”<\/p>\r\n

„otherwise, in the light of what subsequently happened, we should have heard something of this letter before now.  If it had been produced at the inquest I fancy it would have made some difference in the course of affairs.  The evidence, as you remarked just now, choked off suspicion against Sebastien by disclosing an utter absence of anything that could be considered a motive or provocation for the crime, if crime there was.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cOh, read the letter,\u201d said Sir Lulworth impatiently.<\/h2>\r\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a long rambling affair, like most of his letters in his later years,\u201d said Egbert. \u201cI\u2019ll read the part that bears immediately on the mystery. \u201c\u2018I very much fear I shall have to get rid of Sebastien. He cooks divinely, but he has the temper of a fiend or an anthropoid ape, and I am really in bodily fear of him. We had a dispute the other day as to the correct sort of lunch to be served on Ash Wednesday, and I got so irritated and annoyed at his conceit and obstinacy that at last I threw a cupful of coffee in his face and called him at the same time an impudent jackanapes.”<\/p>\r\n

„Very little of the coffee went actually in his face, but I have never seen a human being show such deplorable lack of self-control.  I laughed at the threat of killing me that he spluttered out in his rage, and thought the whole thing would blow over, but I have several times since caught him scowling and muttering in a highly unpleasant fashion, and lately I have fancied that he was dogging my footsteps about the grounds, particularly when I walk of an evening in the Italian Garden.”<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIt was on the steps in the Italian Garden that the body was found,\u201d commented Egbert, and resumed reading. \u201c\u2018I daresay the danger is imaginary; but I shall feel more at ease when he has quitted my service.\u2019\u201d Egbert paused for a moment at the conclusion of the extract; then, as his uncle made no remark, he added: \u201cIf lack of motive was the only factor that saved Sebastien from prosecution I fancy this letter will put a different complexion on matters.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cHave you shown it to anyone else?\u201d asked Sir Lulworth, reaching out his hand for the incriminating piece of paper.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cNo,\u201d said Egbert, handing it across the table, \u201cI thought I would tell you about it first. Heavens, what are you doing?\u201d Egbert\u2019s voice rose almost to a scream.  Sir Lulworth had flung the paper well and truly into the glowing centre of the grate. The small, neat handwriting shrivelled into black flaky nothingness.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cWhat on earth did you do that for?\u201d gasped Egbert. \u201cThat letter was our one piece of evidence to connect Sebastien with the crime.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThat is why I destroyed it,\u201d said Sir Lulworth.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cBut why should you want to shield him?\u201d cried Egbert; \u201cthe man is a common murderer.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cA common murderer, possibly, but a very uncommon cook.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Hector Hugh Munro<\/a> (1870 \u2013 14 November 1916), popularly known by his pen name Saki, was a British writer whose witty, mischievous and sometimes macabre stories satirise Edwardian society and culture. He is considered to be a master of the short story and is often compared to O. Henry and Dorothy Parker. Influenced by Oscar Wilde, Lewis Carroll and Rudyard Kipling, Munro himself influenced A. A. Milne, No\u00ebl Coward and P. G. Wodehouse.<\/em><\/p>\r\n

\"\"<\/a>
Hector Hugh Munro by E. O. Hopp\u00e9 (1913), Wikipedia<\/a><\/figcaption><\/figure>\r\n

Thank you for sharing this article! For comments, please scroll down below the related articles! | SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER HERE \u2709\ufe0f<\/a> | Cover image: Unsplash<\/a><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n

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\u201cYou\u2019ve just come back from Adelaide\u2019s funeral, haven\u2019t you?\u201d said Sir Lulworth to his nephew; \u201cI suppose it was very like most other funerals?\u201dContinue Reading<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1708,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"_vp_format_video_url":"","_vp_image_focal_point":[],"footnotes":""},"categories":[85,14],"tags":[105,109,112,103,111,102,104,113,107,110,108,106],"class_list":["entry","author-mara","has-excerpt","post-1703","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-first","category-literature","tag-british","tag-crime","tag-edwardian","tag-h-h","tag-literature","tag-munro","tag-saki","tag-satire","tag-short-story","tag-story","tag-the-blind-spot","tag-writer"],"yoast_head":"\nShort story by H. H. 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