THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN
All that I could think was that, if genuine, the offer came as a most
unexpected piece of good luck, and that, if it was a trick, my
acceptance of it could not much add to the danger which attended my
purpose 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 his
word, inwardly reserving the right to draw back if I found myself
entering a trap. The man's very proposal involved craft as against the
master of the chateau, but toward me he seemed to be acting with the
utmost simplicity and honesty, so straightforward and free from
excessive protestation he was.
He led me away to a quiet, secluded place by the riverside, out of sight
of the chateau, that we might talk the matter over in safety. And first
he asked me what I knew of the disposition and habits of the Count de
Lavardin. I told him as much as the innkeeper had told me.
"Hum!" said he, reflectively; "it agrees with what I have heard. I have
been pumping people a little, in a harmless way. The first thing I
learned was the Count's churlish practice of closing his gates to
strangers, which forces us to use art in obtaining the hospitality we
are entitled to by general custom. So I had to discover some inclination
or hobby of the man's, that I could make use of to approach him. I don't
see how we can reach him through his love of dogs, without having
prepared ourselves with special knowledge and a fine hound or so to
attract his attention. As for his jealousy, it would be too hazardous to
play upon that: besides, I shouldn't like to cook up a tale about his
wife, 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 that
first occurred to me. As it required a confederate, I put it aside. But
when I observed you yesterday regarding the chateau so wistfully, I said
to myself, 'No doubt heaven has sent this young man to help me, and that
I in turn may help him.' But I waited to make sure, watching you last
night and this morning till I was convinced of your desire to get into
the chateau."
It was a surprise to me to learn that I had been watched, but I took it
coolly.
"The plan I had thought of," he went on, "required that my confederate
should 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 that
requirement, I can only think the more that heaven has brought us
together. It is more than heaven usually does for one."
"But what else does your plan require of me?" I asked, impatient to know
what 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 I
said just now, I have been nosing among the people--nosing is a good
word in my case, isn't it?"--he pointed to his much-extended
proboscis--"I have been nosing about to learn the Count's ruling
passions and so forth. When you have anybody to hoodwink, or obtain
access to without creating suspicion, find out what are his likings and
preoccupations: be sure there will be something there of which you can
avail yourself. From the village priest I learned that, along with his
fondness for hunting and drinking and the lower forms of gaming, the
Count has a taste for more intellectual amusements, and chiefly for the
game of chess. He is a most excellent player, and doesn't often find a
worthy antagonist. His bosom friend, one Captain Ferragant, who is now
living at the chateau, has no skill at chess, so the Count has been put
to sending for this priest to come and play a game now and then, but the
Count beats him too easily for any pleasure and the result of their
games 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 my
simplicity. "An obscure man like me, travelling without a servant,
doesn't propose games to a great nobleman, at the great nobleman's own
gates. The great nobleman may condescend to invite, but the obscure
traveller may not presume to offer himself,--not, at least, without
creating wonder and some curiosity as to his motives. No; that would be
too direct, moreover. It would suggest that I had been inquisitive about
him, to have learned that he is fond of chess. I may tell you that the
Count has his reasons for imagining that strangers may come trying to
get access to him, who have taken pains to learn something of his ways
beforehand. He has his reasons for suspecting every stranger who seeks
to enter his gates. No; we must neither show any knowledge of him, more
than his name, nor any desire to get into his house. We must play upon
his hobby without openly appealing to it. That is why two of us are
necessary. This is what we will do."
I listened with great interest, surprised to discover what acuteness of
mind was hidden behind the pale, meek eyes and un-expressive pasty
countenance of this man with the long nose.
"In an hour or so from now," he said, "I shall be sitting before the
cabaret, where you saw me yesterday. You will come there, from wandering
about the fields, and we will greet each other as having met casually on
our walks this morning--as indeed we actually have met. You will sit
down to refresh yourself with a bottle of wine, and we shall get into
conversation, like the strangers that we are to each other. The people
of the cabaret will hear us, more or less, and the porter at the chateau
gates will doubtless observe us. I will presently lead the talk to the
subject of chess. You will profess to be ardently devoted to the game. I
will show an equally great passion for it. We will express much regret
that we have no chessmen with us, and will inquire if any can be
obtained in the village. I know already that none can be: the priest
once owned a set, but he let the village children use them as toys and
they are broken up. Well, then, rather than lose the opportunity of
encountering a first-class player, you will suggest that we try to
borrow chessmen from the owner of that great chateau, who must surely
possess such things, as no great house is ever without them. You will
thereupon write a note to the Count, saying we are two gentlemen who
have met on our travels, and both claiming to be skilled chess-players,
and hating to part without a trial of prowess, but lacking chessmen, we
take upon ourselves to ask if he may have such a thing as a set which he
will allow us the use of for half a day; and so forth. We will bid the
woman at the cabaret take this note to the porter; and then we have but
to await the result."
"And what will that be?"
"We shall see when it comes," said the man tranquilly. I know not
whether he really felt the serene confidence he showed; but he seemed to
be going on the sure ground of past experience. "It will be necessary to
give 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 met
as travellers so recently. To the Count I will call myself Monsieur de
Pepicot, a poor gentleman of Amiens. As for you, is there any reason why
you shouldn't use your own name? When you want to deceive anybody, it is
well 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 what
I may do in his house, and it would be better if he didn't know where to
look for me afterwards."
"Well, there's something in that. The Count is not a forgiving man. And
yet, 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! I
don't like the idea of masquerading."
"A brave young gentleman! Then there's no more to be said. When we are
inside the chateau, it will be each of us for himself, though of course
we must keep up the comedy of wishing to play chess. Meet me by chance
at the cabaret, then, in about an hour."
Without any more ado, he left me. Coming forth from the concealed place
a minute later, I saw him strolling along the river, looking at the
fields and the sky, as if nothing else were on his mind. I presently
imitated him, but went in another direction. In due time I made my way
to the cabaret, and there he was, at the table where I had first seen
him.
We spoke to each other as had been arranged, and easily carried the
conversation to the desired point, mostly in the hearing of the woman of
the cabaret as she sat knitting by the door. When it came to writing the
note, 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 then
composed our request in as courteous phrases as I thought suitable. The
woman herself carried the note to the chateau gates, and we saw a grated
wicket open, and a scowling fellow show his face there, who questioned
her, glanced at us with no friendly look, took the note, and closed the
wicket. We waited half an hour or so, sipping our wine and talking
carelessly, till I imagined the long-nosed man was becoming a little
doubtful. But just as he was losing his placidity so far as to cross one
leg over another, the chateau gate opened, and a heavy, dark-browed
fellow with the appearance rather of a soldier than of a servant, came
out, and over to us, scrutinizing us keenly as he approached. He asked
if 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 his
chessmen to you, but if you will come to them he will be glad to judge
of your playing; and perhaps to offer the winner a bout with himself."
We took half a minute to evince our pleased surprise, our sense of
favour, and so forth, at this courteous invitation,--and then we
followed the servant to the chateau. It was amusing to see how
innocently, decorously, and consciously of unexpected honour my
long-nosed friend walked through the gateway, and gazed with childlike
admiration around the court-yard and the grey façade of the chateau
confronting us.
A few wide steps led up to the arched door, which admitted us to a large
hall plentifully furnished with tables, benches, and finely-carved
chairs. It was panelled in oak and hung with arms, boars' heads, and
other trophies. At the upper end of a long table, the one leaning
forward from a chair at the head, the other from the bench at the side,
lounged two men, whom I recognized instantly from the descriptions of
the innkeeper as if from painted portraits. They were the Count de
Lavardin and Captain Ferragant.
Yes, there was the "lean old grey wolf," grey not only in his bristly
hair and short pointed beard, but even in the general hue of his wizen
face; grey as to the little eyes that peered out between their narrowed
slits; grey even, on this occasion, as to his velvet doublet and
breeches. Though his face was wizen, the leanness of his body had no
appearance of weakness, but rather every sign of strength. I noticed
that his fingers seemed to possess great crunching power, and there was
always on his face the faint beginning of a smile which, I thought,
would heighten into glee when those fingers were in the act of
strangling somebody.
As for the Captain, there was indeed a great blotch of deep red across
his cheek; he was a large, powerful fellow, with a bold, insolent face,
and fierce, pitiless eyes. To make his sobriquet the fitter, he wore a
suit of crimson, very rich and ornate. His beard and hair, however, were
black.
"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 met
as strangers going opposite ways. I am Monsieur de Pepicot, of the
neighbourhood of Amiens, travelling to Angers to see some kinsfolk."
The Count turned to me, and I recited my name and place, adding that I
was going to Paris, to see a little of the world, and therefore
journeying somewhat indirectly.
"And behold here Monsieur the Captain Ferragant, who comes from
Burgundy," said the Count, "so that we have North, West, and East all
represented."
Captain Ferragant bowed as politeness required, but he went no further.
He did not seem to relish our being there. His look was rather
disdainful, I thought, as if we were nobodies unfit for the honour of
his company. And very soon, while the Count was saying we must stay to
dinner, as there was not time for a game of chess before, the Captain
walked away and out of the hall. Seeing that we were to be his guests
for the day, the Count had us shown to a rather remote chamber up two
flights of stairs, where water was brought, and where we were left alone
together. The chamber looked out on a small part of the garden at the
rear of the chateau.
"Well," said I, washing my hands, "you have played the magician. It has
been 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 distant
high 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 we
had entered. It is a mere inanimate gate, to be sure, but it was slammed
by a porter, and his manner of slamming it might unconsciously express
what was in his mind. You remember, the Count was rather long in coming
to a decision upon our note. If it occurred to him, after all, that we
might have some design, and that people with a design would be safer
inside than outside--well, I mention this only that you may know to keep
your wits about you."
"Thanks, but I see no reason to fear anything. Everything seems to be
going admirably. We are assured of some time in which to attend to our
affairs. While one of us is playing chess with the Count, the other will
be free to roam about,--that suits me perfectly. I begin to feel really
grateful for the Count's hospitality--I almost dislike having won it by
a trick."
"Pish! He is churlish enough as a rule in the matter of
hospitality--it's only fair to win it by a trick."
I was inwardly much excited at the near prospect of dinner, as the meal
would perhaps give me a sight of the Countess. But of this I was
disappointed. The only people who sat down at the upper table, when
dinner was served in the hall, were the Count, the Captain, my friend
Monsieur de Pepicot, and myself. Elsewhere the benches were crowded with
fellows who, like him that had brought our invitation, appeared as much
warriors as serving men, and their number alone would have arrested
notice. I now recalled how many knaves of this sort I had seen in the
court-yard as I entered the chateau, but at that time I had had other
things to think of.
The Count said nothing of the absence of his lady, and, as we could
scarce be thought to know whether he had a Countess living, it was not
for us to inquire about her. I spent my time wondering what could be her
situation, and whether her not appearing had anything to do with the
danger in which she supposed herself. My long-nosed friend ate very
industriously, and most of the conversation was between the Count and
the Captain, upon dogs and hawks and such things. When the Count
addressed either Monsieur de Pepicot or me, the Captain was silent. This
reticence, whether it proceeded from jealousy or contempt, seemed to
afford the Count a little amusement, for he turned his small eyes on the
Captain and stretched his thin lips in a smile that was truly horrible
in its relish of another's discontent.
After dinner, the Count had the chessmen brought at once, and sat down
to watch us at our game. The Captain, with a glance of disapproval at
the chessboard, strolled away as he had done before. I was but a
moderately good player, and discomposed besides, so I held out scarce an
hour 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 his
displeasure. I too was glad, for now, while Monsieur de Pepicot kept the
Count occupied at chess, I should be free to go about the chateau in
search for its mistress. And grateful I was to Monsieur de Pepicot for
having beaten me, for he might easily have left me as the victor and
used this opportunity for his own purpose. I could not think it was
generosity that had made him do otherwise: I could only wonder what his
purpose was, that would bear so much waiting.
For appearance's sake, I watched the two players awhile: then I imitated
the Captain, and sauntered to the court-yard, wondering if there might
be any servant there whom I could sound. But the men lounging there were
not of a simple-looking sort. They were all of forbidding aspect, and
they stared at me so hard that I returned into the hall. The Count was
intent upon the game. Pushed by the mere impulse of inquiry, I went up
the staircase as if to go to the chamber to which I had before been
conducted. But instead of going all the way up, I turned off at the
first landing into a short corridor, resolved to wander wherever I
might: 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 a
gallery where some portraits were hung. So far I had got access by a
series of curtained archways. The further end of the gallery was closed
by a door. I was walking toward that door, when I heard a step in the
room 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 military
rudeness 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 in
his youth, painted at Paris by a celebrated Italian." And he went on to
point out the Count's children, now dead, and his first wife, before
going back to a former generation.
"And the present Countess?" said I at last, looking around the walls in
vain.
"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 own
apartments."
"She is well and yet keeps to her apartments?" I said, with as much
surprise as I thought the circumstance might naturally occasion.
"She does not keep to her apartments exactly," replied the man, a little
annoyed. "She walks in the garden much of the time. Is there anything
else 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 followed
me, to hinder my going too far.
I returned to the hall, which was very silent, the two players being
deep in their chess. Somewhere in my wake the manservant vanished, and I
seemed free to explore in another direction. The Countess walked much in
the garden, the man had said. It was a fine afternoon--might she not be
walking 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 two
wings of the house, and which our chamber overlooked. This part, which
was really a terrace, was separated by a low Italian balustrade from the
greater garden below and beyond. I walked up the middle path to where
there 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 was
sitting a burly fellow, who rose at my appearance, and said:
"Pardon, Monsieur: no further this way, if you please. I am ordered to
stop everybody."
"But I am the Count's guest," said I.
"It is all the same. Nobody is to go down to the garden yonder without
orders."
"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 of
authority at the chateau, but I closed my lips in time. To show
insistence would only injure my purpose: so I contented myself with a
glance at the forbidden territory--a very spacious pleasance, indeed,
with walks, banks of flowers, arbours, and alleys, but with nobody there
to 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 was
flying and I had accomplished nothing, I soon started in good faith for
the 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 the
end of the corridor. This passage soon turned leftward into a rear wing
of the building. I followed it, between chamber doors on one side and,
on the other, windows looking down on the smaller garden. It terminated
at last in a blind wall. I supposed myself to be now over that part of
the house which lay beyond the closed door at the end of the picture
gallery. I looked cautiously out of one of the windows, wondering how
much of the great garden might be visible from there. I could see a
large part of it, but not a soul anywhere in it. As I drew back in
disappointment, I was suddenly startled by a low sound that seemed to
come from somewhere beneath me--a single brief sound, which made my
breath stop and pierced my very heart.
It was the sob of a woman.