CHAPTER VII.
STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES
Monsieur de Pepicot spent so many minutes among the contents of histravelling bag, that he was not in bed as soon as I. But he was by farthe sooner asleep, as his loud snoring testified. To that music ran mythoughts of the beautiful young Countess and her unhappy situation, tillat last they passed into dreams. In the midst of the night I woke, andlistened for my neighbour's snoring. But it had ceased. Then I strainedmy ears to catch the sound of his breathing, but none came. Wondering atthis, I rose and went over toward his bed. There was just light enoughby the window to see that it was empty.
I was still in the midst of my surprise, when the door opened with avery slight creak, and in walked a slim figure so silently that I knewit was without shoes.
"Is that you, Monsieur de Pepicot?" I asked.
"H'sh," he replied in a whisper, closing the door carefully. "Don'tdisturb the slumbers of the household. You are very wakeful."
"No more so than you are, it seems," I said.
"That is true. I often suffer from sleeplessness, and I find a walk isthe thing to put me right."
"You were wise to take a light with you on your walk," I observed, forhe now produced a small lantern from under his loose-fitting doublet,where it had been entirely concealed.
"Yes; one might hurt one's toes in these dark passages," he answered,and placidly drew some papers from his breast pocket, folded themcarefully by the lantern's light, and then as carefully replaced them."I trust you made some progress in your affair here during theafternoon."
"Yes. But you were kept busy with the Count."
"Oh, I don't complain. I was about to say that if you preferred to leavethe house to-night, no doubt I could manage it for you."
"Why should I prefer to leave to-night?"
"Oh, merely because this Count may be a dangerous man to have much to dowith. I know nothing of your affairs, and of course you have no interestin mine. The Count will understand that, no doubt, and will not hold youresponsible for anything I may do, if you choose to stay here longer."
"Well, I must stay here longer, in any case."
"Then there is no more to be said," answered the long-nosed man,extinguishing his lantern, which he wrapped up and put into hisportmanteau. He then lay down upon his bed, without undressing.
I returned to my own couch and was soon asleep.
When I woke again, it was daylight. Monsieur de Pepicot and hisportmanteau were gone. It occurred to me now, as I washed and dressed,that when he spoke of my departing by night he intended to make justsuch an unceremonious exit himself. In that case, I inferred, he hadthought it only fair, as I had helped him to get into the chateau, thathe should offer to help me to get out, for he had made no secret of hisfears that we might find opposition to our doing so. But, if he hadindeed fled, how had he contrived to get out in the middle of the night?As for his purpose in getting in, he must have accomplished that whileon his midnight perambulations.
I went downstairs, but he was not in the hall, nor on the terrace nor inthe court-yard. It was a fine morning, and I was for walking about. Atone side of the court-yard the wall was pierced by a narrow gateway,which took me into a second court-yard, of which one of the furtherangles was filled by a quadrant of the great tower that rose towardheaven from a corner of the main chateau. There was a small door fromthis court-yard to the tower. This tower, for its bigness and height,took my eyes the first moment, but the next they were attracted by theliving figures in the court-yard. These were Captain Ferragant and apack of great hounds which he was marshalling before him, throwing apiece of meat now to one, now to another, calling out by name whichanimal was to catch. He indeed managed to keep them in some sort oforder and from closing around him, and though they all barked and leapedat each throw, yet only the one whose name was called would dareactually to close jaws upon the titbit. This went on for some time,until at last one huge brute, leaping higher, seized the meat intendedfor another.
The red Captain swore a fierce oath, and, grasping a whip, called theinterloping dog to come to him. The animal slunk back. The Captainadvanced among the pack, still calling the hound in the most threateningvoice. But the hound slunk further, growling and showing his teeth. TheCaptain sprang forward and brought down his whip. The dog, mutinous,made a snap at the Captain. The latter, now deeply enraged, threw asidethe whip, caught the animal by the neck, lifted it high, and, with aswift contraction of his fingers, caused its eyes and tongue to protrudeand its body to writhe and hang powerless. He then flung the deadcreature to a corner of the yard, and looked at me with a smile halfvaunting, half amused, as if to say, "That is how I can treat those whothwart my will," and to ridicule my wonder at his fury and strength.
I turned with a look of pity toward the victim of his anger. At thatmoment the Count de Lavardin entered the court-yard, and his glancefollowed mine. Having seen what I saw, he looked protestingly at theCaptain.
"The brute was rebellious," said Ferragant.
"But one doesn't run across such dogs every day," complained the Count.
"The rarest dog shall not defy me," was the cool answer.
"That's all very well, if it had been your own dog," said the Count,still peevish.
"Oh, as to that, we are quits now. Your dog to-day pays for my man youkilled last week."
"Pish, it's easy enough to find rascals like that by the score. Not so,dogs like this. Well, talking won't make him live again--Good morning,Monsieur. Where is your comrade, Monsieur de Pepicot?"
I could only answer that on waking I had been disappointed of seeingeither Monsieur de Pepicot or his baggage. "Nor have I beheld him since,though I have been looking about."
"That is very strange,--that he should take his baggage from the room,"said the Count, exchanging a look of surprise with the Captain. He thencalled two servants and gave them orders quietly, which must have beento search the house and grounds for Monsieur de Pepicot. As we returnedto the hall, the Count questioned me, watching me sharply the while. Iwas perfectly safe in telling the literal truth, though not all of it:how Monsieur de Pepicot was a stranger to me, how I had never spoken tohim before yesterday, how I knew nothing of his business, and so forth.Of course I said nothing of his midnight walk or of having conversedwith him at all after going to bed. The Count's mystification andannoyance were manifest, the more so when, after some time, the servantsreturned to say that the missing man could not be found. When he hadheard their report, the Count was very angry.
"Name of the devil, then, how did he get out? There is treacherysomewhere, and somebody shall pay for it," he screeched, and thendespatched a man to the cabaret to see if Monsieur de Pepicot had takenhis horse away. The man came back saying the horse was gone, but nobodyhad seen the owner take it.
"It is certainly odd that the gentleman should depart secretly likethat, when he might have waited for day and gone civilly," said I, toevince my simplicity.
"You are right, very right," said the Count. "Well, at least you remainto play a game of chess with me. What I am thinking is, the man musthave had some private reason for obtaining entrance to my house."
"Possibly, Monsieur," I replied, bearing the searching gaze of both theCount and the Captain well enough.
"In that case, he made a tool of you," added the Count, still intent onmy expression.
"That would be the inference," said I.
"Well, we must satisfy ourselves as to how he took his departure, if wecannot guess why. Make yourself master of the house, Monsieur. We shallhave our game nevertheless."
And he went off with the Captain, to examine the places of exit from thechateau and the men who were responsible for their security. One couldsee that Monsieur de Pepicot's disappearance was as disturbing to theCount as it was puzzling to me.
I wandered out to the terrace and paced the walk along the house. Myeyes turned toward that window in the west wing which I knew to belongto the apartments of the Countess. I turned along the wing, and strolled
under that window, thinking Madame or Mathilde might make an appearanceat it. I kept moving to and fro within easy earshot of it, sometimesglancing up at the half-open casement. This was the clay on which thepoor lady's fate was to be determined by her husband and lord. Iwondered what sort of scene was arranged for the event, whether it wouldhave the form of trial and judgment, when and where it would occur, andif I should be admitted to it. Probably I should not, and therefore Iwould best speak to the Count regarding Monsieur de Merri before. Thething was, to find a pretext for broaching the matter without betrayingthat I had talked with the Countess. I had thought all this over duringthe night, a hundred times, but now I thought it over again; and, invague search for some hint or guidance, I looked often up to the window,as I have said.
Presently I heard a single sharp, low syllable of laughter, which drewmy glance to the door by which I had come out to the terrace. Therestood the red Captain, his eyes upon me. When he saw that I noticed him,he came toward me, whereupon I, with pretended carelessness, went tomeet him half way.
"You seem to find it very interesting, that window," said he, in a lowvoice. "To me it looks like any of the others." And he ran his glanceironically along the whole range.
"I thought you had gone with the Count to learn how Monsieur de Pepicotgot away," said I, guessing that he had come back to watch me, doubtlessconsidering that, after the evident duplicity of one guest, the othermight require some looking after.
"And so you thought yourself free to post yourself over there and makeeyes at that window?" said the Captain with a smile that half jeered atme, half threatened me with annihilation.
"I do not quite understand your little jest," said I, boldly enough.
"You may find it one of those jests in which the laugh is only on oneside, and that side not yours, young gentleman. Your friend with thelong nose, it appears, had his secret motives for paying a visit to thischateau. We smelt some such thing when the letter came asking for a setof chessmen, and so the Count admitted you, thinking you just as safeinside the chateau as outside. It was not the intention to let you outagain in too great haste."
"In that case," I put in, feigning to treat the matter gaily, "Monsieurde Pepicot was wise in leaving as he did."
"I was about to say that if Monsieur de Pepicot had his secret purposes,it is but fair to suppose you may have yours. If it turns out to be so,and if your object has anything to do with what you may imagine isbehind that window,--why, then, I warn you in time it would be muchbetter for you to have been that dog which opposed me a while ago,--verymuch better, my pert young gentleman, I assure you."
He turned and walked into the house, leaving me without any fit answeron my tongue, or indeed in my mind either.
It appeared to me that the sooner I had my explanation with the Count,the better for both the Countess and myself. So I returned into thehall, which the Captain was leaving by the court-yard door, and waitedfor the Count's reappearance. When he did come, it was clear from hisface that the manner of Monsieur de Pepicot's escape--for escape it mustnow be called--was still a mystery. It was plain, too, when his eyesalighted on me, that he had heard from the Captain, who followed him, ofmy conduct beneath the window. As he came toward me, he scowled andlooked very wicked and crafty. Before he could speak, I said:
"Monsieur, there is something I wish to tell you, if you will allow meto speak to you alone."
"Regarding Monsieur de Pepicot?"
"No; regarding myself and the reason of my coming to Lavardin."
"That is interesting. Let us hear."
"It is for you alone."
"Oh, to be sure. Captain Ferragant, if you will excuse me,--"
The Captain, with a shrug, swaggered off to the furthest corner of thehall.
"You have been acquainted," I began, "with a certain Monsieur de Merri."
The Count's face seemed to jump. I had certainly caught his attention.But his speech was perfectly controlled as he said:
"Yes. And what of him?"
"He had the misfortune to be killed in a sudden duel four days ago at LaFleche."
He was plainly startled; but, after a moment's silence, he only said,"You astonish me," and waited for me to continue.
"I feared I should," said I, "for it turned out, after the duel, thatMonsieur de Merri was on his way to see you, upon some matter of greaturgency."
"On his way to see me! How do you know that?"
I thought it best to tell as much truth as possible.
"I learned from his servant that he was bound in great haste forMontoire. Coming to Montoire, I inquired, and was informed that his onlytie in this neighbourhood was his acquaintance with you. Therefore itmust have been you he was coming to see, and his haste implied theurgency of his reasons, whatever they may have been. Thinking you mightbe depending upon his arrival, I resolved to tell you of his death."
"It is a little odd that you should put yourself out to do that."
"It might be, if I were not responsible for his failure to come to you."
"Oh, then it was you who killed him?"
"Yes; and thought it only the proper act of a gentleman to carry thenews to the person who may have expected him."
"H'm. No doubt. But why did you not come directly and tell me?"
"I heard you made yourself entirely inaccessible to strangers. So whenMonsieur de Pepicot spoke of asking you to lend us chessmen, I thoughtit might lead to some breaking down of your reserve,--as it did."
"But why did you wait a day before telling me?"
"I hoped that chance might enable me to see you alone. But you were sodeeply engrossed in your chess. And I hesitated lest you might thinkyourself bound, as Monsieur de Merri's friend, to deliver me up forhaving violated the edict."
These were certainly sufficient reasons, though, as you know, I had notthought of telling him of Monsieur de Merri till after I had heard theCountess's story, and therefore they were not the true answer to hisquestion. But I no longer found safe standing on the ground of truth,and so fell back upon the soil of invention, uncertain as it was. TheCount looked as far into me as he could, and then called the Captain,who came without haste to the great fireplace where we were. Without anyexplanation to me, or other preface, the Count repeated my disclosure tohis friend, all the time in the manner of one submitting a story to thehearer's judgment as to its truth.
The Captain shrugged his shoulders, and looked at me scornfully. "It isa fine, credible tale indeed," said he.
"If you will take the trouble to send to La Fleche, you will find thatMonsieur de Merri is really slain," said I warmly.
"Oh, no doubt," said the Captain. "But before he was slain, he had timeto take you into his confidence regarding certain things."
"Not at all. I had never seen him before that evening. It was from hisservant, after he was dead, that I learned he was coming to Montoire. Ifyou can find that servant, at La Fleche or Sable, he will tell you so."
"How could he have known he was wanted here?" asked the Captain of theCount. "Your offer of a messenger was disdained."
"I knew she would contrive to send after him on her own account, if Igave her enough liberty," returned the Count.
"It argues skill in such contrivances," said the Captain, with asignificant look.
The Count frowned in a sickly way, but not at the speaker. "Well, in anycase, the liberty will now be cut off," he said harshly. But after amoment, he added: "And yet, if this gentleman does not lie, Monsieur deMerri was coming here fast enough."
"To brazen it out, perhaps. There is no limit to the self-confidence ofyouth. As for this gentleman, how does his story account for theinterest he takes in a certain window that looks upon the terrace?"
The Count's face darkened again, as he turned menacingly toward me."Yes, by heaven, I had forgotten that."
"To be frank," said I awkwardly, after a moment's hesitation, "I hadseen a pretty face there--I mean that of Mathilde." I added the lastwords in haste, for the Count's look had shown for an in
stant that hetook me to mean that of the Countess.
"Ah! that of Mathilde," he repeated, subsiding.
"And how did you know her name was Mathilde?" asked the Captain, in acold, derisive tone. The Count's eyes waited for my answer.
"I--exchanged a few words with her yesterday afternoon," I replied.
"In regard to what subject?" asked the Count quickly, making a veritablegrimace in the acuteness of his suspicion.
"I paid her a compliment or two, such as one bestows upon a prettygirl."
"He is evading," said the Captain. "It is a question whether he did notpresume to offer his compliments higher. One does not say to a prettygirl, 'What is your name?' nor does the girl reply 'Mathilde,' as if shewere a child. It is more likely he heard the girl's name from otherlips. And was he not found spying about the west gallery by Ambroise? Mydear Count, I fear you kept your nose too close to the chessboardyesterday afternoon. As for me, if I had known as much as I know now, Ishould have been more watchful."
The Count's face had turned sicklier and uglier as his friend hadcontinued to speak. He looked now as if he would like to pounce upon mewith his claw-like fingers. He was evidently between the desire toquestion me outright as to whether anything had passed between me andthe Countess, and the dislike of showing openly to a stranger anysuspicion of his wife. The latter feeling prevailed, and he regainedcontrol of himself. I breathed a little easier. But just then itoccurred to me that the Count would surely tax the Countess with havingseen me; that she would acknowledge our meeting; and that her ownaccount of it would be disbelieved, and the worst imaginings added, forthe very reason of my maintaining secrecy about it. I therefore took asudden course.
"Monsieur," I said. "I will be perfectly open with you. From some casualwords of Monsieur de Merri at the inn at La Fleche, before wequarrelled, I was led to believe that the cause of his journey hadsomething to do with the welfare of a lady. Afterwards when I heardwhither he was bound so hastily, I remembered that. On learning atMontoire that this chateau was the only house in which he was knownhereabouts, I assumed that the lady must be in this chateau. It turnedout that the only lady here was the Countess herself. Do you wonder,then, at my endeavouring to speak to the Countess first upon the matterof Monsieur de Merri's death?"
"Pray go on," said the Count, who was taking short and rapid breaths.
"It is true I saw the maid at that window, but I saw also theimpossibility of communicating properly with Madame by that channel. So,in spite of your sentinel's vigilance, I crossed the balustrade to thegarden, and there had the honour of presenting myself to the Countess. Iacquainted her with the fate of Monsieur de Merri. Her demeanour causingme to believe that this put her into peril on her own account, I sopushed my inquiries and offers of service that she told me what thatperil was. She said she was the victim of a slander which only Monsieurde Merri's presence here could clear her of. We were soon interruptedand she left me. I did not see her again, but it appeared to me that, asMonsieur de Merri's presence here would have stood in her favour, thenews of his intention to be here must also stand that way. And now,Monsieur, you have the whole story."
It seemed to have weight with him: but, alas, he looked to the Captainfor an opinion. That gentleman, regarding me with a smile of ironicaladmiration, uttered a monosyllabic laugh in his throat, and said:
"There is one thing we can believe, at least. We know Monsieur deMerri's habit of disclosing his affairs with ladies to strangers atinns."
The Count's face grew dark again.
"But we can never be sure how much may have passed between Monsieur deMerri and this gentleman on the subject before they quarrelled, or whatwas the real motive that brought him here."
"My God!" I cried; "what gentleman could require a stronger motive thanI have shown? Having prevented Monsieur de Merri from coming here uponso urgent a matter, what else could I do in honour but come in hisplace?"
"'In his place'--yes, perhaps, that is well said," retorted the Captain,with his evil smile.
The Count, whose judgment seemed entirely under the dominion of hisfriend, looked at me again as if he would destroy me. After a moment, hetook a turn across the hall and back, and then said to me:
"Well, in the midst of all this deceit and uncertainty one thing isclear. You know too much of our private affairs here to be permitted togo where you will, for the present. I must ask you, therefore, to keepto your chamber awhile. Your wants will be provided for there. I willshow you the way myself, on this occasion." He motioned toward thestairway, and the Captain stood ready to accompany him.
"That amounts to making me a prisoner, Monsieur," said I.
"We shall not dispute over words," replied the Count. "By your ownconfession, you are liable to the law for killing Monsieur de Merri."
"I have reason to expect the King's pardon for that. Measures havealready been taken."
"Pray don't keep me waiting, Monsieur. I should not like to be compelledto have my men lay hands on you." At the same time his smile looked asif he would like that very much.
There was nothing to do, for the moment, but yield. The Captain waswatching to see where my hand moved, and I know not how many armed menwere in the court-yard, besides the servants waiting at the other end ofthe hall. So I obeyed the Count's gesture, merely saying:
"You will find I am not a person who will go unavenged in case ofindignity."
The Count laughed, in his dry, sharp manner, and walked by my side. TheCaptain followed. As soon as I was in my room, the Count called aservant, who went away and presently returned with a key. The Count andhis friend then left me, and locked the door on the outside. As I satdown on my bed, I was glad I had offered no useless resistance, for, asit was, I had not been deprived of my weapons.
To make a short matter here of what seemed a very long one at the time,I was kept locked in my room all that day, with two armed men outside mydoor, as I guessed first from hearing them, and certified afterwards byseeing them when a servant brought my food. What made the confinementand inaction the more trying was my knowledge that this was the day onwhich the Countess was to plead her innocence. I kept wondering throughthe tedious hours how matters were going with her, and I often strainedmy ears in the poor hope of discovering by them what might be going onin the chateau. But I never heard anything but the rough speech andmovements of the men outside my door, and now and then the voice of someattendant on the terrace below my window. I could look diagonally acrossthe terrace to the window where I had seen Mathilde, but not once duringall that day did I behold a sign of life there. The night came withoutbringing me any hint as to how the Countess had fared. I could not sleeptill late.
When I woke, early in the morning, I noticed that my door was slightlyajar. Looking out, I found the corridor empty. I took this to mean thatI was not to remain a prisoner, and so it proved. Hastily dressing andgoing downstairs, though many servants were about, I encountered nohindrance. I passed out to the terrace. To my surprise, nobody was onguard at the steps; so I went boldly down to the garden. My heart beatwith a vague hope of meeting the Countess, though it was scarce lateenough in the day to expect her to be out. I must confess it was notalone her being an oppressed lady whom I had engaged myself to aid, thatmade me look so eagerly down all the walks and peer so keenly into allthe arbours; I must confess it was largely the impression her beauty andtenderness had left upon me. But I was disappointed: I explored thewhole garden in vain.
Anything to be near her, I thought. So I went and hung about the doorbetween the garden and her apartments. But it remained closed andenigmatic. I had another idea, and, returning into the house, took myway unchecked to the gallery of pictures, wondering at the freedom ofpassage now allowed me, and at the same time resolved to make the mostof it. I could scarce believe my eyes when I saw the door ajar which ledto Madame's suite. I went and tapped lightly on it, but got no answer.It opened to a large drawing-room, well furnished but without anyinhabitant. I crossed this room to the other side, which had
two doors,both open. One gave entrance to a sleeping-chamber, in a corner of whichwas a prie-dieu, and which showed in a hundred details to be the bedroomof a lady. But the bed was made up, and a smaller bed, in a recess,which might be that of the maid, also had the appearance of not havingbeen used the previous night. I looked through the other doorway fromthe drawing-room, and saw a stairway leading down to the garden door.Had the Countess and Mathilde, then, gone into the garden at the time Iwas in the act of coming to the gallery? No; for the garden door wasbolted on the inside. I went to one of the drawing-room windows lookingon the terrace, and made sure it was the window from which Mathilde hadfirst answered my call. And then it dawned upon me what the desertion ofthese rooms meant, and why I was allowed to go where I would in thehouse and garden. The Countess and her maid were no longer there. Whathad become of them?
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