AT THE CURTAINED DOOR.
At an early hour next morning, in fact long before M. Platzoff was out
of bed, Captain Ducie, cigar in hand, took a ramble round the exterior
of Bon Repos. While exploring the four rooms on the preceding evening
he was struck with the recollection of having on one occasion seen
their shuttered windows from the outside. A day or two after his
arrival at Bon Repos he had gone on an exploring expedition about the
grounds, and it was on that occasion that he had seen them. He had
taken them as ordinary unused chambers, and had had no further
curiosity respecting them. He remembered now that they looked--or
would have looked if their shutters had been open--into a very thick
bit of shrubbery, so dense, in fact, as to be all but impenetrable,
and looking as if it had not been pruned for years. And yet this
very bit of shrubbery was within a few feet of the delicious little
flower-studded lawn on to which the windows of Platzoff's private
rooms opened; indeed, the four shut-up rooms were merely a
continuation of the same wing in which the private rooms were situate.
It was evident that since the four rooms had been disused the
shrubbery outside them had been allowed to grow as thick and wild as
it chose, as though it were Platzoff's wish to screen them as much as
possible from observation.
Captain Ducie having pierced this shrubbery, found himself within
sight of the four windows, and saw that he had not been mistaken as to
their position. Through the dusty panes of the last window of the four
he could just make out the knotted cord as he had left it over night.
He took a few quiet observations, unseen by any one, and then went
back indoors.
That night, as usual, Captain Ducie accompanied his host to the
smoke-room. Drashkil was not introduced, and the two friends passed a
pleasant evening, smoking and conversing. As midnight struck, Jasmin
entered. Ducie rose, shook hands with Platzoff, bade him good night,
and retired. Having reached his own room, he locked the door. Then he
proceeded to dress himself in a suit of dark gray tweed. On his feet
he put a pair of Indian moccasins. His next proceeding was to produce
a coil of strong rope from one of his trunks, one end of which he tied
firmly to the top bar of the fire-grate. This done, he blew out the
candle, drew up the blind, and opened the window. The night was fine,
but overcast, and rather cold for the time of year. Having waited till
he heard the clock strike one, he lowered the other end of the rope
out of the open window. After listening intently for full two minutes
he let himself quietly down, sailor fashion, and landed safely on the
turf below. Then he paused again to listen. That part of the grounds
in which he now found himself was very quiet and secluded even by day,
but neither there nor in any other part of the little demesne was
there any likelihood that his proceedings would be observed at that
uncanny hour. The rule at Bon Repos was that all the servants, except
Cleon, should go to bed, and the house be finally closed, at half-past
eleven, and the time was now ten minutes past one. Still, Captain
Ducie was not a man to neglect any precaution that presented itself to
his mind. Keeping well under the deeper shadow of the trees, and
walking lightly on the soft turf, he was not long before he found
himself close under the window with the knotted cord. He had scanned
Platzoff's windows anxiously in passing, but they were so closely
shuttered and curtained that it was impossible to tell whether or no
the Russian had yet retired to rest.
As previously stated, the whole of Platzoff's private rooms were on
the ground floor: equally as a matter of course, the four rooms that
opened out of the corridor were on the same level. A slight spring
sufficed to place Captain Ducie on the window-sill of the room he
wished to enter. Despite all his care, he could not prevent the
creaking of the window as he pushed up the sash; but he trusted to the
remoteness of Platzoff's bedroom not to be overheard. Then he pushed
open the shutters and stepped lightly down into the dark room. He had
noted the position of the furniture when there the previous night, and
he knew that there was a clear course to the door. Another pause, to
listen; then noiselessly across the floor; out by way of the door left
unlocked last night, and so into the corridor; then forward, silent as
a shadow, to the curtained door that opened into Platzoff's room.
Captain Ducie was far from being a nervous man, yet it is quite
certain that his pulses beat by no means so equably as on ordinary
occasions as he stood in the dark corridor, all his senses on the
alert, his fingers on the handle of the door; dreading to take the
next step, which must yet be taken or all that he had hitherto done be
rendered nugatory; and stubbornly determined in his inmost heart that
it should be taken, happen what might. An indrawing of the breath, a
moment's pause, a turn of the handle, and almost before he knew that
he was there he found himself standing behind the curtain and on the
threshold of M. Platzoff's private rooms.
Not the faintest sound of any kind. Ducie stretched forth a hand, and
little by little drew back the curtain sufficiently to enable him to
peer into the room. It was dark and empty; but he could see that a
faint light was burning in the bedroom beyond. Now that the curtain
was partly drawn aside he could hear the low, regular breathing of M.
Platzoff as that gentleman lay asleep in bed. Ducie knew what a light
sleeper Platzoff was when not under the influence of his favourite
drug, and he durst not venture a step beyond the spot where he was now
standing. Indeed, there was no reason why he should so venture. There
was nothing whatever to be gained by such a rash proceeding. It was
Platzoff's habit (so the Russian himself had given Ducie to
understand) to visit the Diamond once, sometimes twice a week. These
visits generally took place during the small hours of the morning when
Platzoff awoke, restless and uneasy, from his first sleep. All,
therefore, that Ducie had now to do was to wait quietly for one of
these occasions, and take advantage of it when it should come, in such
a way as might seem advisable to him at the time.
This was the reason why Captain Ducie did not stir from his
hiding-place behind the curtain. This was the reason why he stood
there for two full hours to-night as patiently as if he had been
cast in bronze. But on this occasion his waiting was in vain. When he
had been there about an hour and a half, M. Platzoff woke up, took a
pinch of snuff, sneezed, spoke a few words aloud in some language
which Ducie did not understand, and then addressed himself to sleep
again. Ducie waited a full half-hour longer without stirring. Then
he went quietly back by the way he had come, shutting behind him the
two doors, the shutters, and the window, but leaving them all
unfastened--indeed, he had no means of fastening them, even had he
been so minded. He got back unseen to his own room.
The same hour next night saw Captain Ducie behind the curtained door.
He knew that several nights might elapse before Platzoff should visit
the Diamond, and he was quite prepared to wait there night after night
till his perseverance should be crowned with success. It was just as
well, perhaps, that he had made up his mind to play a waiting game,
seeing that five nights passed one after another, on no one of which
did he fail in his watch at the curtained door, before Platzoff,
taking counsel with himself, made up his mind to again visit the
cavern.
It was on a certain night--or rather morning, being about three
a.m.--after one of his drashkil debauches, that the Russian so made up
his mind. Ducie was in patient waiting. From his hiding-place behind
the curtain he heard Platzoff get out of bed. When he saw him put on
his dressing-gown and light a small lamp--the same that the Russian
had made use of on the night that Ducie accompanied him--then the
latter knew that his patience was about to be rewarded.
As Platzoff advanced into the library, Ducie shrank back, and
noiselessly closed the door that led into the corridor. He thought it
just possible that Platzoff might lift the curtain to make sure that
there was no one in hiding. Standing with his hand on the door, and
listening intently, Ducie could hear Platzoff moving about the
library. Then he heard the click of a spring or bolt, and a sound like
the rolling back of a door or panel. Then all was still.
After waiting for a couple of minutes, during which the silence
remained unbroken, Ducie slowly opened the door, and moved forward
till his face nearly touched the curtain. He could hear nothing save
the beating of his own heart. Drawing the curtain an inch or two on
one side, he peeped. The library was empty, and the secret door was
open.
For a few seconds he felt like a man in a dream; he could hardly
believe in the reality of what he saw before him. But the thought that
in ten or twelve minutes at the farthest M. Platzoff would be back
again, and that now or never was his opportunity, quickened him into
action. His object tonight was to take such accurate note of the
position of the secret door, and the means by which it was opened and
shut, as would enable him in time to come to find it again without
much difficulty. Platzoff was in the cavern below, and till the sound
of his returning footsteps could be heard Ducie knew that he was safe.
Moving noiselessly forward into the room, he went down on one knee,
and proceeded to make a careful examination of the secret door. Then
he took a measuring-tape out of his pocket, and proceeded to measure
the exact distance of the opening from the upper end of the room. Then
he took his penknife and cut away a couple of threads out of the
carpet close to the book-case, at those points precisely where the
secret door fitted into it when shut. Not less carefully did he
examine the spring, and the mode by which it was acted on when the
door was closed. There was nothing very complicated about it now that
its mechanism was laid bare. A very slight examination sufficed to
show Ducie its method of working, and where and how it was opened from
without.
A faint noise from below warned him that his time was up. He glided
back as noiselessly as he had come, and disappeared behind the curtain
just as M. Platzoff began to ascend the steps that led from the
cavern.
Captain Ducie stood with his hand on the door of the corridor for a
full hour before he ventured to take another step in retreat. Then
judging that Platzoff, who had gone to bed again, could not fail to be
asleep, he went quietly back by the way he had come.