The Count felt about with his feet till they touched the floor of the
loft into which he had scrambled. "Here I am landed at last, at all
events," he said to himself; "but this, though dry enough, is not a
pleasant place in which to pass the night; and besides, my friend
Stilkin will be searching for me, and be very much alarmed at not
finding the vessel, or if he does find her--supposing she has not gone
to the bottom--when he discovers that I have absconded. What can I do?
I must try and get down into the street, and then, perhaps, I shall meet
him and relieve his anxiety. I wish that I had a light, though, as I
shall run the risk of tumbling down some trap-door and breaking my neck.
I must move cautiously. This appears to be a lumber loft of some sort;
it cannot contain valuable merchandise, or the opening through which I
made an entrance would have been closed. Well, I am of opinion that
this is the least pleasant of my adventures." The Count stopped.
Looking back, he observed the outline of an opening through which came a
small amount of light--such light as exists at night. This assisted him
to direct his course across the floor of the loft: he moved cautiously,
for every moment he knocked his feet against pieces of plank, and broken
chests, and casks, and heaps of old sails, and fragments of rope piled
up to be turned into oakum, and broken chains, and scraps of iron, and
worn-out brooms and brushes. "I suppose there is an outlet somewhere,
though I cannot yet distinguish it," he said to himself. "These things
have probably been brought up from below; but suppose they have been
only hoisted in through the window, I shall be imprisoned as effectually
as if I had been shut in by bars and bolts, for I certainly cannot make
my escape through the opening by which I entered; I should only fall
into the canal. Dear me! dear me! this is unpleasant. I wish that I
had stayed at home in my old castle. However, wishes are vain things.
I must try to get out somehow or other." Again he began to grope about,
feeling with his hands and feet, but in spite of all efforts could
discover no outlet. "Probably, after all, it will be wiser to sit down
and wait till daylight," he thought. He accordingly sat himself down on
a pile of rope, but he had not sat there long before he heard strange
noises, a clattering and clambering of some creatures or other, and
presently two or three came bounding over his feet.
"Those must be rats," he said to himself. "I have heard of a species
which comes from Norway, great savage creatures, a few dozen of which
would eat up a man at a meal; if I go to sleep they may eat me up, and
that will be objectionable in the highest degree. It is very clear that
I must get out of this if I wish to keep a whole skin in my body. Come!
arouse thee, brave Funnibos! let it not be said that the last of thy
race was eaten up by rats."
He once more got up and resumed his search; as he was feeling about his
hands struck against a large ring: "This perhaps is a trap-door," he
thought. Standing on one side, he pulled with all his might; it
yielded, and he found that he was lifting it up.
"Yes, this is a trap-door, and the means of escape presents itself, but
I must take care that there is a ladder by which to descend, or I may
pitch down head foremost and crack my skull." Stooping over, he
discovered to his satisfaction that there was a ladder, and he
accordingly descended, holding on very tight with his hands, while he
felt with his feet. At last he reached the bottom, and found himself on
a lower story; the windows, however, if there were any, were closed. He
was not much better off than he had been on the story above; still,
having succeeded thus far, he was determined not to be defeated, and
again he began to search about. The chamber appeared to have but little
in it; now and then he knocked against a chest or a box, and stumbled
over other articles, till suddenly he nearly fell head foremost down a
stair. "This must lead somewhere, at all events," he thought; and by a
banister which he discovered on one side he began cautiously to descend,
feeling with one foot before he lifted up the other. Down and down he
went till he got into a passage between some stone walls. "Come,
perhaps this will conduct me to the street, or to the street door, and,
if it is only closed with bolts and bars, I may withdraw them and set
myself free. I only hope that there may be no inhabitants who may take
me for a burglar, and shoot me before I have time to explain matters. I
must go cautiously, so as to make no noise." He was going on feeling
the walls on both sides, and putting one foot slowly before the other,
when he observed a faint light streaming up from an opening on one side.
The opening was a doorway; as he reached it the light became stronger,
and he saw some stone steps leading to yet a lower story.
"This seems strange," he muttered, "I understood that the houses in
Amsterdam were built on piles to keep them out of the water, and I
should have supposed that a flight of steps so low as this would lead
one into it; but there must be some one down there, or this bright light
would not be coming up. Perhaps I had better go back to try and find my
way to the street door, as I had intended, lest that somebody should
consider that I am intruding; however, having got thus far, I will try
and solve the mystery." He, therefore, again descended step by step.
He found himself in a small vaulted chamber, in the centre of which was
a table covered with retorts, jars, glasses of all shapes and sizes, and
other chemical apparatus, while at a chair was seated a tall,
grey-headed old gentleman, stirring the contents of a clay bowl with a
glass tube; his eyes were so intently fixed on the bowl that he did not
discover the presence of a stranger. A lamp burning on the table shed
the light around on the wizen countenance of the aged alchemist, on the
walls of the chamber, and on the roof, from which hung suspended several
iron chains, and stuffed birds and beasts and other creatures of curious
form, unlike anything the Count had before seen. He stood for some time
watching the proceedings of the unknown alchemist and considering what
he should do; at last he gave a cough to attract attention. The old man
looked up, and regarded him with a fixed stare.
"Who are you, and whence do you come?" he asked in a hollow voice. "Are
you a spirit from the vasty deep, or have you risen from the nether
world?"
"Though I am not a spirit, I have come from the vasty deep, for I am a
shipwrecked traveller," answered the Count. "In a most extraordinary
manner I was landed in a loft above this building, and have found my way
down here. My object at present is to get out into the street of
Amsterdam, for I presume I am in that city, and to discover my friend
and companion, Baron Stilkin, who had, fortunately for himself, gone on
shore before the catastrophe occurred, which nearly cost me my life; and
I shall be very, very much obliged to you, most reverend Seignor, if you
will show me the door."
"At present I cannot on any account do that," answered the alchemist.
"It might prove the destruction of my hopes were I to leave this
crucible for a moment. Know that I am on the point of making the great
discovery which is the object of my life," and the old man went on
stirring as before.
"What is that discovery, may I ask?" inquired the Count.
"The means of converting tin into silver, and copper into gold; or
rather, I may say, the discovery of the philosopher's stone, for which
the sages of past centuries have searched in vain, but which I firmly
believe it has been reserved for me to find out. I shall then become
the richest individual in Amsterdam, and I have resolved to employ my
wealth in rebuilding the city. I purpose to lay the foundations with
granite instead of wooden piles, on which it now stands; to increase the
width and depth of its canals, and double their present dimensions; to
erect a church in the centre which shall surpass that of Saint Peter's
or Saint Paul's; to make the inhabitants the most wealthy and healthy,
the best and most contented people on the face of the globe. These are
grand designs, you will allow, most noble stranger, for I perceive you
are capable of appreciating them: these are sufficient to induce a man
to burn the midnight oil, to spend his days in ceaselessly labouring at
his allotted task."
"Perhaps you will be good enough to make haste and discover this
philosopher's stone, and then let me out at your street door; for I am
desperately hungry, and wish to find a hotel where I may obtain a supper
and bed, in case I should not meet with Baron Stilkin, who landed for
the express purpose of looking for one."
"Wait a few moments longer, my friend," said the alchemist, still
stirring on. "You would not surely have me throw away the labour of
years to gratify your selfish object. Just step aside in the meantime
into that recess, as I am not quite certain what is about to happen.
There may come an explosion, such has occurred before now, and then at
the bottom of this crucible I firmly believe that I shall discover the
philosopher's stone. It has never appeared yet, but, once in my
possession, I shall leave this cold vault for ever, and emerge into the
upper world, to commence the great undertaking I have designed. Stand
aside! stand aside! at any moment there may be an explosion."
The Count at first thought that the wisest plan would be to escape up
the stone steps, as he had no wish to be exposed to the effects of the
expected explosion; but, curious to see the result, he stepped aside, as
the old alchemist advised him, into a recess of the vault. Still the
alchemist stirred on, but nothing occurred. The Count was losing
patience when he heard the sound of feet descending the steps.
"Here comes my familiar spirit," muttered the alchemist; "he always does
come just when I am about to make my grand discovery."
"He treads very heavily for a spirit!" thought the Count.
At that moment a remarkable and unattractive-looking person came into
the light of the lamp; he was a short, thick-set man, with a huge head,
almost a dwarf, dressed in a long coat and high boots, carrying in his
hand a kettle.
The alchemist as he saw him started up. "Why have you come? Why hast
thou come, thou enemy of science? thou who, night after night, hast
prevented me from making the grand discovery, the aim of my existence,
thou disturber of my studies, thou foe of the human race!"
"You know well enough, Mynheer Bosch, that what you say is all nonsense,
and that I will not allow you to abuse me in this fashion," exclaimed
the dwarf, lifting up the kettle as if he were about to throw it at the
philosopher's head. "Come along, and leave your old bottles and jars;
it is high time that you were in bed, and my business is to see you safe
there, and to lock you up till to-morrow morning."
"But I have a visitor," said the philosopher, calming down, and looking
perfectly resigned to his fate. "A visitor who may become my pupil, and
aid me in making my grand discovery, which has, through your
interference, been so long delayed."
"Any one who desires to become your pupil must be a remarkably silly
fellow," observed the dwarf. "If he is there, let him show himself.
Come out, whoever you are, and I'll know how you ventured into this
house without leave."
The Count, on hearing this, stepped forth from his hiding-place.
"Honest man, pray understand, in the first place, that I have no desire
to become the pupil of this philosophical gentleman, that I most
unintentionally entered the house, and shall be extremely obliged to you
if you will let me out as soon as possible," he said; and he briefly
explained how he had happened to get into the loft.
"That being the case, as soon as I have secured this poor old man for
the night, I will show you out into the street," answered the dwarf; and
taking hold of the lamp with one hand and with the other grasping the
arm of the philosopher, who moved on as meekly as a lamb, he led the way
up the steps, the Count following close behind. After proceeding along
several passages he reached a door, when, producing a key from his
pocket, he opened it.
"Go in," he said to the philosopher, "and wait till I come back." The
latter obeyed, and the dwarf locked him in.
"Now, Mynheer," he said, "having disposed of that poor old fellow for
the present, I will show you the way out into the street; but take care
you do not fall into the canal. You will not find any hotel in this
part of the town fit for a gentleman of your rank; but if you go on
straight before you and then turn to the right, then to the left, then
to the right again, you may possibly meet with your friend whom you
desire to find; if not, a watchman will take charge of you, should he
not lock you up, and will help you to find an hotel."
This was not altogether satisfactory, for the Count doubted very much
whether he should be able to follow the directions he had received; but
he wanted to get into the open air, and he hoped that he should somehow
or other find his way. He was not in the best possible mood, and had
little expectation of finding the Baron; he was desperately hungry, and
was afraid that his portmanteau was lost, which would certainly be the
case if the sloop had gone to the bottom. However, finding himself in
the open air, he went along what appeared to be a narrow road, with
houses on one side and a canal on the other. The odour which rose from
the latter in the night air was far from pleasant, but he soon got
accustomed to it. He was inclined to shout out the Baron's name as he
went along, but it occurred to him that some of the watchers of the
night might accuse him of being a disorderly person, and carry him off
to prison, though whenever he saw anyone approaching he asked in a
subdued tone, "Is that you, Baron Stilkin?" But no one acknowledged
himself to be the Baron. Thus the Count went on, no one impeding his
progress. According to the dwarfs advice, he did turn to the left and
then to the right, then to the left again, and turned several times,
till he forgot how many times he had turned or where he was. For a long
time he met no one of whom to inquire the way. At last he heard
footsteps approaching. "Is that you. Baron Stilkin?" he asked, as he
had done before.
"What, whose voice is that?" exclaimed some one.