It was a cold, wet night. Outside the small house, the wind was blowing hard. Inside, the curtains were closed and a fire was burning brightly. Mr. White and his son, Herbert, were playing chess. Mrs. White, a gentle old woman with white hair, was knitting near the fire.

“Listen to the wind,” said Mr. White. He had just made a bad move in the game, and he wanted to change the subject.

“I'm listening,” said his son, and he took his father's king. “Checkmate.”

“I don't think he's coming tonight,” said Mr. White.

But just then the gate banged, and they heard heavy footsteps. Mr. White went to the door and came back with a tall, strong man with a red face and small, bright eyes.

“This is Sergeant-Major Morris,” he said.

Morris was an old soldier. He had spent twenty-one years in India. He sat by the fire, drank some whisky and told them stories about wars, strange places and strange people.

“I would like to go to India myself,” said Mr. White, “just to look around a bit. What was that story you started to tell me the other day, Morris, about a monkey's paw or something?”

“Nothing,” said the soldier quickly. “Nothing worth hearing.”

“A monkey's paw?” said Mrs. White, curious.

The sergeant-major put his hand in his pocket and took out something small and dry. “It is just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy,” he said.

Mrs. White moved back with a look of disgust, but Herbert took it and looked at it with interest.

“What is special about it?” asked Mr. White.

“An old holy man in India put a magic spell on it,” said Morris. “He wanted to show that fate rules people's lives, and that people who try to change it are sorry later. He put a spell on it so that three different men could each have three wishes from it.”

His manner was so serious that they stopped laughing.

“Well, why don't you have three wishes, sir?” said Herbert.

The soldier looked at him. “I have had them,” he said quietly, and his face went white.

“And did you really get your three wishes?” asked Mrs. White.

“I did,” said the sergeant-major.

“And has anybody else wished?”

“The first man had his three wishes, yes. I don't know what the first two were, but the third was for death. That's how I got the paw.”