He had for the first time been out hunting with his father and the
neighboring country gentlemen in the autumn of this year, and it appears
that on two occasions he had the brush awarded to him. At his request the
heads of the two foxes were mounted for him, and he proposed to put them
up on either side his fireplace.
The wall, above and for a few inches to the right and left of the
mantelpiece, was bare of tapestry; the first-named place being occupied by
the portrait, while the sides were four feet up the oaken wainscot which
surrounded the whole room behind the tapestry, and from thence to the
ceiling, plaster. The mantelpiece and fireplace were of a dark slaty
stone, and of brick, respectively.
Archibald fixed upon what he considered the most effective positions for
his heads--just above the level of the wainscot, and near enough to the
mantelpiece not to be interfered with by the tapestry. He nailed up one of
them on the left-hand side, the nails penetrating with just sufficient
resistance in the firm plaster; and then, measuring carefully to the
corresponding point on the right-hand side, he proceeded to affix the
other head there. But the nail, on this occasion, could not be made to go
in; and on his attempting to force it with a heavier stroke of the hammer,
it bent beneath the blow, and the hammer came sharply into contact with
the white surface of the wall, producing a clinking sound as from an
impact on metal.
A brief investigation now revealed the fact that a circular disk of iron,
about three inches in diameter, and painted white to match the plaster,
was here let into the wall. What could be the object of it? With a fresh
nail the boy began to scratch off the paint from the surface of the disk,
in order to determine whether it were actually iron, or some other metal;
in so doing a small movable lid, like the screen of a keyhole, was pushed
aside, disclosing a little round aperture underneath. Archibald pushed the
nail into it, thereby informing himself that the hole went straight into
the wall, for a distance greater than the length of the nail; but how much
greater, and what was at the end of it, he could only conjecture.
We must imagine him now standing upon a chair, with the nail in his hand,
casting about in his mind for some means of probing this mysterious and
unexpected hole to the bottom. At this juncture he happens to glance
upward, and meets the intent regard of his pictured ancestor, who seems to
have been silently watching him all this time, and only to be prevented by
unavoidable circumstances from speaking out and telling him what to do
next. And there is that constant forefinger pointing--at what? At the
cavity in the floor, of course; but not of that alone; for if you observe,
this same new-found hole in the wall is a third point in the straight line
between the end of the forefinger and the hiding-place of the silver rod;
furthermore, the hole is, as nearly as can be estimated without actual
measurement, three feet distant from the forefinger, and five feet from
the rod; the problem of three above and five below has solved itself in
the twinkling of an eye, and it only remains to act accordingly!
Archibald sprang to the floor in no small excitement; but the first thing
he did was to see that both his doors were securely fastened. Then he
advanced upon the mystery with heightened color and beating heart, his
imagination revelling in the wildest forecasts of what might be in store;
and anon turning him cold with sickening apprehension lest it should prove
to be nothing after all! But no--something there must be, some buried
secret, now to live once more for him, and for him only: the secret,
whereof dim legends had come down through the obscurity of two hundred
years; the secret, too, of old Sir Charles in the frame yonder, the man of
magic repute. What could it be? Some talisman--some volume of the Black
Art perhaps--which would enable him to vanish at will into thin air, and
to travel with the speed of a wish from place to place--to become a
veritable enchanter, endowed with all supernatural powers. With hands
slightly tremulous from eagerness he pushed back the bit of plank and drew
forth the silver rod; then mounted on the chair and applied it to the
hole, which it fitted accurately. Before pushing it home he paused a
moment.
In all the stories he had read, the possessors of magic secrets had
acquired the same, only in exchange for something supposed to be equally
valuable, namely, their own souls. It was not to be expected that
Archibald would be able to modify the terms of the bargain in his own
case: was he, then, prepared to pay the price? Every human being,
probably, is called upon to give a more or less direct answer to this
question at some epoch of their lives: and were it not for curiosity and
scepticism, and an unwillingness to profit by the experience of others,
very likely that answer might be more often favorable to virtue than it
actually is. Archibald did not hesitate long. Whether he decided to
disbelieve in any danger; whether he resolved to brave it whatever it
might be; or whether, having got thus far, he had not sufficient control
over his inclinations to resist going further--at all events he drew in
his breath, set his boyish lips, and drove the silver rod into the
aperture with right good will.
It turned slowly as it entered, the curve of its spiral evidently following
the corresponding windings of the hole. Inward it twisted like a snake,
until only some two inches still projected. As the searcher after
forbidden mysteries continued to press, something seemed to give way
within; and at the same instant an odd, shuffling sound caused him to
glance sharply over his left shoulder.
What was the matter with the mantelpiece? The whole of the right jamb
seemed to have started forward nearly a foot, while the left jamb had
retired by a corresponding distance into the wall; the hearth, with the
fire burning upon it, remained meanwhile undisturbed. At first Archibald
imagined that the mantelpiece was going to fall, perhaps bringing down the
whole partition with it; but when he had got over the first shock of
surprise sufficiently to make an examination, he found that the entire
structure of massive gray-stone was swung upon a concealed pivot, round
which it turned independently of the brickwork of the fireplace. The
silver rod had released the spring by which the mechanism was held in
check, and an unsuspected doorway was thus revealed, opening into the very
substance of the apparently solid wall. On getting down from his chair he
had no difficulty in pulling forward the jamb far enough to satisfy
himself that there was a cavity of unknown extent behind. And from out of
this cavity breathed a strange dry air, like the sigh of a mummy. As for
the darkness in there, it was almost substantial as of the central chamber
in the great pyramid.
Archibald may well have had some misgivings, for he was only a boy, and
this happened more than sixty years ago, when ghosts and goblins had not
come to be considered such indefensible humbugs as they are now.
Nevertheless, he was of a singularly intrepid temperament, and besides he
had passed the turning point in this adventure a few minutes ago. Nothing,
therefore, would have turned him back now. Come what might of it, he would
see this business to an end.
It was, however, impossible to see anything without a light; it would be
necessary to fetch one of the rush candles from the table in the corridor.
It was a matter of half a minute for the boy to go and return; then he
edged himself through the opening, and was standing in a kind of vaulted
tunnel, directly behind the fireplace, the warmth of which he could feel
when he laid his hand on the bricks on that side. The tunnel, which
extended along the interior of the wall toward the left, was about six
feet in height by two and a half in width. Archibald could walk in it
quite easily.
But, in the first place, he scrutinized the mechanism of the revolving
mantelpiece. It was an extremely ingenious and yet simple device, and so
accurately fitted in all its parts that, after so many years, they still
worked together almost as smoothly as when new. After Archibald had poured
a little of his gun-oil into the joints of the hinges, and along the
grooves, he found that heavy stone structure would open and close as
noiselessly and easily as his own jaws. It could be opened from the inside
by using the silver rod in a hole corresponding to that on the outside;
and, having practised this opening and shutting until he was satisfied
that he was thoroughly master of the process, he put the rod in his
pocket, pulled the jamb gently together behind him, and, candle in hand,
set forth along the tunnel.
After walking ten paces, he came face-up against a wall lying at right
angles to the direction in which he had been moving. Peering cautiously
round the corner, he saw, at the end of a shallow embrasure, a ponderous
door of dark wood, braced with iron, standing partly open, with a key in
the keyhole, as if some one had just come out, and, in his haste, had
forgotten to shut and lock the door behind him. Archibald now slowly
opened it to its full extent; it creaked as it moved, and the draught of
air made his candle flicker, and caused strange shadows to dance for a
moment in the unexplored void beyond. In another breath Archibald had
crossed the threshold and arrived at the goal of his pilgrimage.
At first he could see very little; but there could be no doubt that he was
in a room which seemed to be of large extent, and for the existence of
which he could by no means account. The reader, who has been better
informed, will already have assigned it its true place in that unexplained
region mentioned some pages back, between the blind court and the east
chamber. Groping his way cautiously about, Archibald presently discerned a
burnished sconce affixed to the wall, in which having placed his candle,
the light was reflected over the room, so that the objects it contained
stood dimly forth. It was a room of fair extent and considerable height,
and was, apparently, furnished in a style of quaint and sombre
magnificence, such as no other apartment in Malmaison could show. The
arched ceiling was supported by vast oaken beams; the floor was inlaid
with polished marbles. The walls, instead of being hung with tapestry,
were painted in distemper with life-size figure subjects, representing, as
far as the boy could make out, some weird incantation scene. At one end of
the room stood a heavy cabinet, the shelves of which were piled with gold
and silver plate, richly chased, and evidently of great value. Here, in
fact, seemed to have been deposited many of the precious heirlooms of the
family, which had disappeared during the Jacobite rebellions, and were
supposed to have been lost. The cabinet was made of ebony inlaid with
ivory, as was also a broad round table in the centre of the room. In a
niche opposite the cabinet gleamed a complete suit of sixteenth century
armor; and so dry was the atmosphere of the apartment, that scarce a spot
of rust appeared upon the polished surface, which, however, like every
other object in the room, was overlaid with fine dust. A bed, with
embroidered coverlet and heavy silken curtains, stood in a deep recess to
the left of the cabinet. Upon the table lay a number of papers and
parchments, some tied up in bundles, others lying about in disorder. One
was spread open, with a pen thrown down upon it, and an antique ink-horn
standing near; and upon a stand beside the bed was a gold-enamelled
snuff-box, with its lid up, and containing, doubtless, the dusty remnant
of some George II. rappee.
At all these things Archibald gazed in thoughtful silence. This room had
been left, at a moment's warning, generations ago; since then this strange
dry air had been breathed by no human nostrils, these various objects had
remained untouched and motionless; nothing but time had dwelt in the
chamber; and yet what a change, subtle but mighty, had been wrought! Mere
stillness--mere absence of life--was an appalling thing, the boy thought.
And why had this secret been suffered to pass into oblivion? And why had
fate selected him to discover it? And now, what use would he make of it?
"At all events," said the boy to himself, "it has become my secret, and
shall remain mine; and no fear but the occasion will come when I shall
know what use to make of it." He felt that meanwhile it would give him
power, security, wealth also if he should ever have occasion for it; and
with a curious sentiment of pride he saw himself thus mystically
designated as the true heir of Malmaison--the only one of his age and
generation who had been permitted to stand on an equality with those
historic and legendary ancestors, to whom the secret of this chamber had
given the name and fame of wizards. Henceforth Archibald was as much a
wizard as they.
Or, might there after all be a power in necromancy that he yet dreamed not
of? Was it possible that even now those old enchanters held their meetings
here, and would question his right to force his way among them?
As this thought passed through the boy's mind, he was moving slowly
forward, his eyes glancing now here, now there, when all at once the roots
of his hair were stirred with an emotion which, if not fear, was certainly
far removed from tranquillity. From the darkest corner of the room he had
seen a human figure silently and stealthily creeping toward him. Now, as
he fixed his eyes upon it, it stopped, and seemed to return his stare. His
senses did not deceive him; there it stood, distinctly outlined, though
its features were indistinguishable by reason of the shadow that fell upon
them. But what living thing--living with mortal life at least--could
exist in a room that had been closed for sixty years?
Now certainly this Archibald, who had not yet completed his fourteenth
year, possessed a valiant soul. That all his flesh yearned for instant
flight does not admit of a doubt; and had he fled, this record would never
have been written. Fly, however, he would not, but would step forward
rather, and be resolved what manner of goblin confronted him. Forward,
therefore, he stepped; and behold, the goblin was but the reflection of
himself in a tall mirror, which the obscurity and his own agitation had
prevented him from discerning. The revulsion of feeling thus occasioned
was so strong that for a moment all strength forsook the boy's knees; he
stumbled and fell, and his forehead struck the corner of the ebony
cabinet. He was on his feet again in a moment, but his forehead was
bleeding, and he felt strangely giddy. The candle, too, was getting near
its end; it was time to bring this first visit to a close. He took the
candle from the sconce, passed out through the door, traversed the tunnel,
and thrust the silver key into the keyhole. The stone door yielded before
him; he dropped what was left of the candle, and slipped through the
opening into broad daylight. The first object his dazzled eyes rested upon
was the figure of Miss Kate Battledown. In returning from his visit to the
corridor he must have forgotten to lock the room door after him. She was
standing with her back toward him, looking out of the window, and was
apparently making signs to some one outside.
Noiselessly Archibald pushed the mantelpiece back into place; thanks to the
oiling he had given the hinges, no sound betrayed the movement. The next
moment Kate turned round, and seeing him, started and cried "Oh!"
"Good-morning, Mistress Kate," said Archibald.
"Archibald!"
"Well?"
"You were not here a moment ago!"
"Well?"
"Then how did you get here?"
Archibald made a gesture toward the door leading to the covered stairway.
"No--no!" said Kate; "it is locked, and the key is on this side." She had
been coming toward him, but now stopped and regarded him with terror in
her looks.
"What is the matter, Kate?"
"You are all over blood, Archibald! What has happened? Are you ... oh, what
are you?" She was ready to believe him a ghost.
"What am I?" repeated the boy, sluggishly. That odd giddiness was
increasing, and he scarcely knew whether he were asleep or awake. Who was
he, indeed? What had happened? Who was that young woman in front of him?
What....
"Archibald! Archie! Speak to me! Why do you look so strangely?"
"Me not know oo!" said Archie, and began to cry.
Mistress Kate turned pale, and began to back toward the door.
"Me want my Kittie!" blubbered Archie.