CHAPTER V.
THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN
All that I could think was that, if genuine, the offer came as a mostunexpected piece of good luck, and that, if it was a trick, myacceptance of it could not much add to the danger which attended mypurpose at best. In any case, this man already had me under scrutiny.So, after some little display of surprise and doubt, I took him at hisword, inwardly reserving the right to draw back if I found myselfentering a trap. The man's very proposal involved craft as against themaster of the chateau, but toward me he seemed to be acting with theutmost simplicity and honesty, so straightforward and free fromexcessive protestation he was.
He led me away to a quiet, secluded place by the riverside, out of sightof the chateau, that we might talk the matter over in safety. And firsthe asked me what I knew of the disposition and habits of the Count deLavardin. I told him as much as the innkeeper had told me.
"Hum!" said he, reflectively; "it agrees with what I have heard. I havebeen pumping people a little, in a harmless way. The first thing Ilearned was the Count's churlish practice of closing his gates tostrangers, which forces us to use art in obtaining the hospitality weare entitled to by general custom. So I had to discover some inclinationor hobby of the man's, that I could make use of to approach him. I don'tsee how we can reach him through his love of dogs, without havingprepared ourselves with special knowledge and a fine hound or so toattract his attention. As for his jealousy, it would be too hazardous toplay upon that: besides, I shouldn't like to cook up a tale about hiswife, unless put to it."
"Monsieur, don't speak of such a thing," I said indignantly.
"No, it wouldn't do. I can't think of a better plan than the one thatfirst occurred to me. As it required a confederate, I put it aside. Butwhen I observed you yesterday regarding the chateau so wistfully, I saidto myself, 'No doubt heaven has sent this young man to help me, and thatI in turn may help him.' But I waited to make sure, watching you lastnight and this morning till I was convinced of your desire to get intothe chateau."
It was a surprise to me to learn that I had been watched, but I took itcoolly.
"The plan I had thought of," he went on, "required that my confederateshould be unknown to the Count and those near him. When I find that you,who are anxious for your own reasons to enter the chateau, fulfil thatrequirement, I can only think the more that heaven has brought ustogether. It is more than heaven usually does for one."
"But what else does your plan require of me?" I asked, impatient to knowwhat must be faced.
"You play chess, of course?" was his interrogative answer.
"A little," said I, wondering what that had to do with the case.
"Then all is fair ahead of us. Luckily. I play rather well myself. As Isaid just now, I have been nosing among the people--nosing is a goodword in my case, isn't it?"--he pointed to his much-extendedproboscis--"I have been nosing about to learn the Count's rulingpassions and so forth. When you have anybody to hoodwink, or obtainaccess to without creating suspicion, find out what are his likings andpreoccupations: be sure there will be something there of which you canavail yourself. From the village priest I learned that, along with hisfondness for hunting and drinking and the lower forms of gaming, theCount has a taste for more intellectual amusements, and chiefly for thegame of chess. He is a most excellent player, and doesn't often find aworthy antagonist. His bosom friend, one Captain Ferragant, who is nowliving at the chateau, has no skill at chess, so the Count has been putto sending for this priest to come and play a game now and then, but theCount beats him too easily for any pleasure and the result of theirgames is that the Count only curses the rarity of good chess-players."
"And so you think of proposing a game with him?"
"Not exactly," said the long-nosed man, with a faint smile at mysimplicity. "An obscure man like me, travelling without a servant,doesn't propose games to a great nobleman, at the great nobleman's owngates. The great nobleman may condescend to invite, but the obscuretraveller may not presume to offer himself,--not, at least, withoutcreating wonder and some curiosity as to his motives. No; that would betoo direct, moreover. It would suggest that I had been inquisitive abouthim, to have learned that he is fond of chess. I may tell you that theCount has his reasons for imagining that strangers may come trying toget access to him, who have taken pains to learn something of his waysbeforehand. He has his reasons for suspecting every stranger who seeksto enter his gates. No; we must neither show any knowledge of him, morethan his name, nor any desire to get into his house. We must play uponhis hobby without openly appealing to it. That is why two of us arenecessary. This is what we will do."
I listened with great interest, surprised to discover what acuteness ofmind was hidden behind the pale, meek eyes and un-expressive pastycountenance of this man with the long nose.
"In an hour or so from now," he said, "I shall be sitting before thecabaret, where you saw me yesterday. You will come there, from wanderingabout the fields, and we will greet each other as having met casually onour walks this morning--as indeed we actually have met. You will sitdown to refresh yourself with a bottle of wine, and we shall get intoconversation, like the strangers that we are to each other. The peopleof the cabaret will hear us, more or less, and the porter at the chateaugates will doubtless observe us. I will presently lead the talk to thesubject of chess. You will profess to be ardently devoted to the game. Iwill show an equally great passion for it. We will express much regretthat we have no chessmen with us, and will inquire if any can beobtained in the village. I know already that none can be: the priestonce owned a set, but he let the village children use them as toys andthey are broken up. Well, then, rather than lose the opportunity ofencountering a first-class player, you will suggest that we try toborrow chessmen from the owner of that great chateau, who must surelypossess such things, as no great house is ever without them. You willthereupon write a note to the Count, saying we are two gentlemen whohave met on our travels, and both claiming to be skilled chess-players,and hating to part without a trial of prowess, but lacking chessmen, wetake upon ourselves to ask if he may have such a thing as a set which hewill allow us the use of for half a day; and so forth. We will bid thewoman at the cabaret take this note to the porter; and then we have butto await the result."
"And what will that be?"
"We shall see when it comes," said the man tranquilly. I know notwhether he really felt the serene confidence he showed; but he seemed tobe going on the sure ground of past experience. "It will be necessary togive names and some account of ourselves, no doubt, before all is done.We shall not be expected to know anything of each other, having only metas travellers so recently. To the Count I will call myself Monsieur dePepicot, a poor gentleman of Amiens. As for you, is there any reason whyyou shouldn't use your own name? When you want to deceive anybody, it iswell to be strictly truthful as far as your object will permit."
"The only reason is, that I may get into the Count's bad graces by whatI may do in his house, and it would be better if he didn't know where tolook for me afterwards."
"Well, there's something in that. The Count is not a forgiving man. Andyet, as to his power of revenge, I know not--Well, do as you please."
"Oh, devil take it, I'll go under my own name, let come what may! Idon't like the idea of masquerading."
"A brave young gentleman! Then there's no more to be said. When we areinside the chateau, it will be each of us for himself, though of coursewe must keep up the comedy of wishing to play chess. Meet me by chanceat the cabaret, then, in about an hour."
Without any more ado, he left me. Coming forth from the concealed placea minute later, I saw him strolling along the river, looking at thefields and the sky, as if nothing else were on his mind. I presentlyimitated him, but went in another direction. In due time I made my wayto the cabaret, and there he was, at the table where I had first seenhim.
We spoke to each other as had been arranged, and easily carried theconversation to the desired point, mostly in the hear
ing of the woman ofthe cabaret as she sat knitting by the door. When it came to writing thenote, the long-nosed man tore a leaf of paper out of his pocket book,and had pen and ink fetched from his lodging over the cabaret; I thencomposed our request in as courteous phrases as I thought suitable. Thewoman herself carried the note to the chateau gates, and we saw a gratedwicket open, and a scowling fellow show his face there, who questionedher, glanced at us with no friendly look, took the note, and closed thewicket. We waited half an hour or so, sipping our wine and talkingcarelessly, till I imagined the long-nosed man was becoming a littledoubtful. But just as he was losing his placidity so far as to cross oneleg over another, the chateau gate opened, and a heavy, dark-browedfellow with the appearance rather of a soldier than of a servant, cameout, and over to us, scrutinizing us keenly as he approached. He askedif we were the gentlemen who had written to borrow a set of chessmen.Being so informed, he said:
"Monsieur the Count, my master, begs to be excused from sending hischessmen to you, but if you will come to them he will be glad to judgeof your playing; and perhaps to offer the winner a bout with himself."
We took half a minute to evince our pleased surprise, our sense offavour, and so forth, at this courteous invitation,--and then wefollowed the servant to the chateau. It was amusing to see howinnocently, decorously, and consciously of unexpected honour mylong-nosed friend walked through the gateway, and gazed with childlikeadmiration around the court-yard and the grey facade of the chateauconfronting us.
A few wide steps led up to the arched door, which admitted us to a largehall plentifully furnished with tables, benches, and finely-carvedchairs. It was panelled in oak and hung with arms, boars' heads, andother trophies. At the upper end of a long table, the one leaningforward from a chair at the head, the other from the bench at the side,lounged two men, whom I recognized instantly from the descriptions ofthe innkeeper as if from painted portraits. They were the Count deLavardin and Captain Ferragant.
Yes, there was the "lean old grey wolf," grey not only in his bristlyhair and short pointed beard, but even in the general hue of his wizenface; grey as to the little eyes that peered out between their narrowedslits; grey even, on this occasion, as to his velvet doublet andbreeches. Though his face was wizen, the leanness of his body had noappearance of weakness, but rather every sign of strength. I noticedthat his fingers seemed to possess great crunching power, and there wasalways on his face the faint beginning of a smile which, I thought,would heighten into glee when those fingers were in the act ofstrangling somebody.
As for the Captain, there was indeed a great blotch of deep red acrosshis cheek; he was a large, powerful fellow, with a bold, insolent face,and fierce, pitiless eyes. To make his sobriquet the fitter, he wore asuit of crimson, very rich and ornate. His beard and hair, however, wereblack.
"You are welcome, gentlemen," said the Count, in a harsh, thin voice."From what part do you come?"
"From different parts," said my long-nosed companion. "We have only metas strangers going opposite ways. I am Monsieur de Pepicot, of theneighbourhood of Amiens, travelling to Angers to see some kinsfolk."
The Count turned to me, and I recited my name and place, adding that Iwas going to Paris, to see a little of the world, and thereforejourneying somewhat indirectly.
"And behold here Monsieur the Captain Ferragant, who comes fromBurgundy," said the Count, "so that we have North, West, and East allrepresented."
Captain Ferragant bowed as politeness required, but he went no further.He did not seem to relish our being there. His look was ratherdisdainful, I thought, as if we were nobodies unfit for the honour ofhis company. And very soon, while the Count was saying we must stay todinner, as there was not time for a game of chess before, the Captainwalked away and out of the hall. Seeing that we were to be his guestsfor the day, the Count had us shown to a rather remote chamber up twoflights of stairs, where water was brought, and where we were left alonetogether. The chamber looked out on a small part of the garden at therear of the chateau.
"Well," said I, washing my hands, "you have played the magician. It hasbeen as easy as walking, to get into the chateau."
"Will it be easy to get out again, when our business is done, I wonder?"replied Monsieur de Pepicot, gazing out of the window at the distanthigh wall of the garden.
"Why do you say that?" I asked, a little surprised at his tone.
"Oh, I was thinking of the manner in which the gate slammed to, after wehad entered. It is a mere inanimate gate, to be sure, but it was slammedby a porter, and his manner of slamming it might unconsciously expresswhat was in his mind. You remember, the Count was rather long in comingto a decision upon our note. If it occurred to him, after all, that wemight have some design, and that people with a design would be saferinside than outside--well, I mention this only that you may know to keepyour wits about you."
"Thanks, but I see no reason to fear anything. Everything seems to begoing admirably. We are assured of some time in which to attend to ouraffairs. While one of us is playing chess with the Count, the other willbe free to roam about,--that suits me perfectly. I begin to feel reallygrateful for the Count's hospitality--I almost dislike having won it bya trick."
"Pish! He is churlish enough as a rule in the matter ofhospitality--it's only fair to win it by a trick."
I was inwardly much excited at the near prospect of dinner, as the mealwould perhaps give me a sight of the Countess. But of this I wasdisappointed. The only people who sat down at the upper table, whendinner was served in the hall, were the Count, the Captain, my friendMonsieur de Pepicot, and myself. Elsewhere the benches were crowded withfellows who, like him that had brought our invitation, appeared as muchwarriors as serving men, and their number alone would have arrestednotice. I now recalled how many knaves of this sort I had seen in thecourt-yard as I entered the chateau, but at that time I had had otherthings to think of.
The Count said nothing of the absence of his lady, and, as we couldscarce be thought to know whether he had a Countess living, it was notfor us to inquire about her. I spent my time wondering what could be hersituation, and whether her not appearing had anything to do with thedanger in which she supposed herself. My long-nosed friend ate veryindustriously, and most of the conversation was between the Count andthe Captain, upon dogs and hawks and such things. When the Countaddressed either Monsieur de Pepicot or me, the Captain was silent. Thisreticence, whether it proceeded from jealousy or contempt, seemed toafford the Count a little amusement, for he turned his small eyes on theCaptain and stretched his thin lips in a smile that was truly horriblein its relish of another's discontent.
After dinner, the Count had the chessmen brought at once, and sat downto watch us at our game. The Captain, with a glance of disapproval atthe chessboard, strolled away as he had done before. I was but amoderately good player, and discomposed besides, so I held out scarce anhour against the long-nosed gentleman, who was evidently of great skill.Apparently the Count, by his ejaculations, thought little of my playing,but he was so glad when my defeat made room for him, that I escaped hisdispleasure. I too was glad, for now, while Monsieur de Pepicot kept theCount occupied at chess, I should be free to go about the chateau insearch for its mistress. And grateful I was to Monsieur de Pepicot forhaving beaten me, for he might easily have left me as the victor andused this opportunity for his own purpose. I could not think it wasgenerosity that had made him do otherwise: I could only wonder what hispurpose was, that would bear so much waiting.
For appearance's sake, I watched the two players awhile: then I imitatedthe Captain, and sauntered to the court-yard, wondering if there mightbe any servant there whom I could sound. But the men lounging there werenot of a simple-looking sort. They were all of forbidding aspect, andthey stared at me so hard that I returned into the hall. The Count wasintent upon the game. Pushed by the mere impulse of inquiry, I went upthe staircase as if to go to the chamber to which I had before beenconducted. But instead of going all the way up, I turned off at thefirst landi
ng into a short corridor, resolved to wander wherever Imight: if anybody stopped me, I could pretend to have lost my way.
The corridor led into a drawing-room richly tapestried and furnished;that into another room, which contained musical instruments; that into agallery where some portraits were hung. So far I had got access by aseries of curtained archways. The further end of the gallery was closedby a door. I was walking toward that door, when I heard a step in theroom I had last traversed. I immediately began to look at the pictures.
A man entered and viewed me suspiciously. He was, by his dress and air,a servant of some authority in the household, and had not the militaryrudeness of the fellows in the court-yard.
"What is it Monsieur will have?" he asked, with outward courtesy enough.
"I am looking at the portraits," said I.
"I will explain them to you," said he. "That is Monsieur the Count inhis youth, painted at Paris by a celebrated Italian." And he went on topoint out the Count's children, now dead, and his first wife, beforegoing back to a former generation.
"And the present Countess?" said I at last, looking around the walls invain.
"There is no portrait of Madame the Countess."
"She was not at dinner," I ventured. "Is she not well?"
"Oh, she is well, I am happy to say. She often dines in her ownapartments."
"She is well and yet keeps to her apartments?" I said, with as muchsurprise as I thought the circumstance might naturally occasion.
"She does not keep to her apartments exactly," replied the man, a littleannoyed. "She walks in the garden much of the time. Is there anythingelse I may show you, Monsieur?"
He stood at the curtained entrance, as if to attend my leaving the room,and I thought best to take the hint. No doubt he had purposely followedme, to hinder my going too far.
I returned to the hall, which was very silent, the two players beingdeep in their chess. Somewhere in my wake the manservant vanished, and Iseemed free to explore in another direction. The Countess walked much inthe garden, the man had said. It was a fine afternoon--might she not bewalking there now?
Feigning carelessness, I went out a small door at the rear of the hall,and found myself in that narrow part of the garden which lay between twowings of the house, and which our chamber overlooked. This part, whichwas really a terrace, was separated by a low Italian balustrade from thegreater garden below and beyond. I walked up the middle path to wherethere was an opening in the balustrade at the head of a flight of steps.But here my confidence received a check. Half-way down the steps wassitting a burly fellow, who rose at my appearance, and said:
"Pardon, Monsieur: no further this way, if you please. I am ordered tostop everybody."
"But I am the Count's guest," said I.
"It is all the same. Nobody is to go down to the garden yonder withoutorders."
"Orders from the Count?" I asked.
"From the Count or the Captain."
I nearly let out my thought that the Captain had a good deal ofauthority at the chateau, but I closed my lips in time. To showinsistence would only injure my purpose: so I contented myself with aglance at the forbidden territory--a very spacious pleasance, indeed,with walks, banks of flowers, arbours, and alleys, but with nobody thereto enjoy it that I could see--and went back to the hall.
As I could not sit there long inactive, for considering how the time wasflying and I had accomplished nothing, I soon started in good faith forthe chamber to which I had feigned to be going before. Once upstairs,however, it occurred to me to walk pass the door of that chamber, to theend of the corridor. This passage soon turned leftward into a rear wingof the building. I followed it, between chamber doors on one side and,on the other, windows looking down on the smaller garden. It terminatedat last in a blind wall. I supposed myself to be now over that part ofthe house which lay beyond the closed door at the end of the picturegallery. I looked cautiously out of one of the windows, wondering howmuch of the great garden might be visible from there. I could see alarge part of it, but not a soul anywhere in it. As I drew back indisappointment, I was suddenly startled by a low sound that seemed tocome from somewhere beneath me--a single brief sound, which made mybreath stop and pierced my very heart.
It was the sob of a woman.
The Bright Face of Danger Page 5