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  CHAPTER XX

  Even to Chester there was something grateful in the sudden stillness inwhich he and the three others found themselves on leaving the Casino.

  "Not a very safe issue out of a place where people carry about such a lotof money!" he exclaimed, as they made their way up the rough little lane."One could half-throttle anyone here, and have a very good chance ofgetting off!"

  "Oh, Lacville is a very safe place!" answered Madame Wachner, laughingher jovial laugh. "Still, considering all the money made by the Casino,it is too bad they 'aven't made a more splendid--what do you call it--?"

  "--Approach," said L'Ami Fritz, in his deep voice, and Chester turned,rather surprised. It was the first word he had heard Monsieur Wachnerutter.

  Sylvia was trying hard to forget Count Paul and his broken promise, andto be her natural self.

  As they emerged into the better-lighted thoroughfare, where stood a rowof carriages, she said, "I will drive with you to the Pension Malfait,Bill."

  Madame Wachner officiously struck in, "Do not think of driving yourfriend to the Pension Malfait, dear friend! We will gladly leave Mr.Chester there. But if 'e does not mind we will walk there; it is too finea night for driving."

  "But how about your luggage?" said Sylvia, anxiously. "Has your luggagegone on to the Pension?"

  "Yes," said Chester, shortly. "Your landlord very kindly said he wouldsee to its being sent on."

  They were now close to the Villa du Lac. "Of course, I shall expect youto lunch to-morrow," said Sylvia. "Twelve o'clock is the time. You'llwant a good rest after your long day."

  And then Chester started off with his two strange companions. How veryunlike this evening had been to what he had pictured it would be! Yearsbefore, as a boy, he had spent a week at a primitive seaside hotel nearDieppe. He had thought Lacville would be like that. He had imaginedhimself arriving at a quiet, rural, little country inn, and had seenhimself kindly, if a little shyly, welcomed by Sylvia. He could almosthave laughed at the contrast between the place his fancy had painted andthe place he had found, at what he had thought would happen, and at whathad happened!

  As they trudged along, Chester, glancing to his right, saw that therewere still a great many boats floating on the lake. Did Lacville folknever go to bed?

  "Yes," said Madame Wachner, quickly divining his thoughts, "some of thepeople 'ere--why, they stay out on the water all night! Then they catchthe early train back to Paris in the morning, and go and work all day.Ah, yes, it is indeed a splendid thing to be young!"

  She sighed, a long, sentimental sigh, and looked across, affectionately,at L'Ami Fritz.

  "I do not feel my youth to be so very far away," she said. "But then, thepeople in my dear country are not cynical as are the French!"

  Her husband strode forward in gloomy silence, probably thinking over themoney he might have made or lost had he played that evening, instead ofonly noting down the turns of the game.

  Madame Wachner babbled on, making conversation for Chester.

  She was trying to find out something more about this quiet Englishman.Why had he come to Lacville? How long was he going to stay here? What washis real relation to Sylvia Bailey?

  Those were the questions that the pretty English widow's new friendwas asking herself, finding answers thereto which were unsatisfactory,because vague and mysterious.

  At last she ventured a direct query.

  "Are you going to stay long in this beautiful place, Monsieur?"

  "I don't know," said Chester shortly. "I don't suppose I shall stay verylong. I'm going on to Switzerland. How long I stay will a little bitdepend on Mrs. Bailey's plans. I haven't had time to ask her anythingyet. What sort of a place is the Villa du Lac?"

  He asked the question abruptly; he was already full of dislike andsuspicion of everything, though not of everybody, at Lacville. TheseWachners were certainly nice, simple people.

  "Oh, the Villa du Lac is a very respectable 'ouse," said Madame Wachnercautiously. "It is full of respectable--what do you call them?--dowagers.Oh, you need have no fear for your friend, sir; she is quite safe there.And you know she does not often go to the Casino"--she told the lie withbold deliberation. Some instinct told her that while Chester was atLacville Sylvia would not go to the Casino as often as she had been inthe habit of doing.

  There was a pause--and then again Madame Wachner asked the Englishman aquestion:

  "Perhaps you will go on to Switzerland, leaving Mrs. Bailey here, andthen come back for her?"

  "Perhaps I shall," he said heavily, without really thinking of what hewas saying.

  They were now walking along broad, shady roads which reminded him ofthose in a well-kept London suburb. Not a sound issued from any of thehouses which stood in gardens on either side, and in the moonlight he sawthat they were all closely shuttered. It might almost have been a littletownship of empty houses.

  Again the thought crossed his mind what a dangerous place these lonelyroads might be to a man carrying a lot of gold and notes on his person.They had not met a single policeman, or, indeed, anyone, after they hadleft the side of the lake.

  At last Madame Wachner stopped short before a large wooden door.

  '"Ere we are!" she said briskly. "I presume they are expecting you, sir?If they are not expecting you, they will probably 'ave all gone to bed.So we will wait, will we not, Ami Fritz, and see this gentleman safe in?If the worst came to the worst, you could come with us to our villa andsleep there the night."

  "You are awfully kind!" said Chester heartily--and, indeed, he did feelthis entire stranger's kindness exceptional.

  How fortunate that Sylvia had come across such a nice, simple, kindlywoman in such a queer place as Lacville!

  But Madame Wachner's good-natured proposal had never to be seriouslyconsidered, for when her vigorous hand found and pulled the bell therecame sounds in the courtyard beyond, and a moment later the door swungopen.

  "Who's there?" cried M. Malfait in a loud voice.

  "It is the English gentleman, Mrs. Bailey's friend," said Madame Wachnerquickly; and at once the Frenchman's voice softened.

  "Ah! we had quite given up M'sieur," he said amiably. "Come in, come in!Yes, the bag has arrived; but people often send their luggage before theycome themselves. Just as they sometimes leave their luggage after theythemselves have departed!"

  Chester was shaking hands cordially with the Wachners.

  "Thank you for all your kindness," he said heartily. "I hope we shallmeet again soon! I shall certainly be here for some days. Perhaps youwill allow me to call on you?"

  Once the good-natured couple had walked off arm in arm into the night,the door of the Pension Malfait was locked and barred, and Chesterfollowed his landlord into the long, dark house.

  "One has to be careful. There are so many queer characters about," saidM. Malfait; and then, "Will M'sieur have something to eat? A littlerefreshment, a bottle of lemonade, or of pale ale? We have splendidBass's ale," he said, solicitously.

  But the Englishman shook his head, smiling. "Oh, no," he said slowly, inhis bad French, "I dined in Paris. All I need now is a good night'srest."

  "And that M'sieur will certainly have," said the landlord civilly."Lacville is famous for its sleep-producing qualities. That is why somany Parisians content themselves with coming here instead of goingfurther afield."

  They were walking through the lower part of the house, and then suddenlyM. Malfait exclaimed, "I was forgetting the bath-room! I know howimportant to English gentlemen the bath-room is!"

  The pleasant vista of a good hot bath floated before Chester's wearybrain and body. Really the house was not as primitive as he had thoughtit when he had seen the landlord come forward with a candle.

  M. Malfait turned round and flung open a door.

  "It was an idea of my wife's," he said proudly. "You see, M'sieur, theapartment serves a double purpose--"

  And it did! For the odd little room into which Chester was shown by hishost served as store cupboard a
s well as bath-room. It was lined withshelves on which stood serried rows of pots of home-made jam, jars of oiland vinegar, and huge tins of rice, vermicelli, and tapioca, in a cornera round zinc basin--but a basin of Brobdignagian size--stood under a coldwater tap.

  "The bath is for those of our visitors who do not follow the regularhydropathic treatment for which Lacville is still famous," said thelandlord pompously. "But I must ask M'sieur not to fill the bath toofull, for it is a great affair to empty it!"

  He shut the door carefully, and led the way upstairs.

  "Here we are," he whispered at last. "I hope M'sieur will be satisfied.This is a room which was occupied by a charming Polish lady, MadameWolsky, who was a friend of M'sieur's friend, Madame Bailey. But she leftsuddenly a week ago, and so we have the room at M'sieur's disposal."

  He put the candle down, and bowed himself out of the room.

  Chester looked round the large, bare sleeping chamber in which he foundhimself with the agreeable feeling that his long, hot, exciting day wasnow at an end.

  Yes, it was a pleasant room--bare, and yet furnished with everythingessential to comfort. Thus there was a good big, roomy arm-chair, awriting-table, and a clock, of which the hands now pointed to a quarterto one o'clock.

  The broad, low bed, pushed back into an alcove as is the French fashion,looked delightfully cool and inviting by the light of his one candle.

  When M. Malfait had shown him into the room the window was wide open tothe hot, starless night, but the landlord, though he had left the windowopen, had drawn the thick curtains across it. That was all right; Chesterhad no wish to be wakened at five in the morning by the sunlightstreaming into the room. He meant to have a really long rest. He wastoo tired to think--too tired to do anything but turn in.

  And then an odd thing happened. Chester's brain was so thoroughly awake,he had become so over-excited, that he could not, try as he might, fallasleep.

  He lay awake tossing about hour after hour. And then, when at last he didfall into a heavy, troubled slumber, he was disturbed by extraordinaryand unpleasant dreams--nightmares in which Sylvia Bailey seemed to playa part.

  At last he roused himself and pulled back the curtains from across thewindow. It was already dawn, but he thought the cool morning air mightinduce sleep, and for a while, lying on his side away from the light, hedid doze lightly.

  Quite suddenly he was awakened by the sensation, nay, the knowledge, thatthere was someone in the room! So vivid was this feeling of unwished-forcompanionship that he got up and looked in the shadowed recess of thealcove in which stood his bed; but, of course, there was no one there.In fact there would not have been space there for any grown-up person tosqueeze into.

  He told himself that what he had heard--if he had heard anything--wassomeone bringing him his coffee and rolls, and that the servant hadprobably been trying to attract his attention, for, following his prudentcustom, he had locked his door the night before.

  He unlocked the door and looked out, staring this way and that along theempty passage. But no, in spite of the now-risen sun, it was still earlymorning; the Pension Malfait was sunk in sleep.

  Chester went back to bed. He felt tired, disturbed, uneasy; sleep was outof the question; so he lay back, and with widely-open eyes, began tothink of Sylvia Bailey and of the strange events of the night before.

  He lived again the long hour he had spent at the Casino. He could almostsmell the odd, sweet, stuffy smell of the Baccarat Room, and there rosebefore him its queer, varied inmates. He visioned distinctly SylviaBailey as he had suddenly seen her, sitting before the green cloth,with her money piled up before her, and a look of eager interest andabsorption on her face.

  There had always been in Sylvia something a little rebellious, a touch ofindividuality which made her unlike the other women he knew, and whichfascinated and attracted him. She was a woman who generally knew her ownmind, and who had her own ideas of right and wrong. Lying there, heremembered how determined she had been about those pearls....

  Chester's thoughts took a softer turn. How very, very pretty she hadlooked last evening--more than pretty--lovelier than he had ever seenher. There seemed to be new depths in her blue eyes.

  But Chester was shrewd enough to know that Sylvia had felt ashamed to becaught by him gambling--gambling, too, in such very mixed company. Well,she would soon be leaving Lacville! What a pity those friends of hers hadgiven up their Swiss holiday! It would have been so jolly if they couldhave gone on there together.

  He got tired of lying in bed. What a long night, as well as a veryshort night, it had been! He rose and made his way down to the primitivebath-room. It would be delightful to have any sort of bath, and the hugezinc basin had its points--

  As Chester went quickly back to his room, instead of feeling refreshedafter his bath, he again experienced the disagreeable sensation that hewas not alone. This time he felt as if he were being accompanied by aninvisible presence. It was a very extraordinary and a most unpleasantfeeling, one which Chester had never experienced before, and it made himafraid--afraid he knew not of what.

  Being the manner of man he was, he began to think that he must beill--that there must be something the matter with his nerves. Had he beenat home, in Market Dalling, he would have gone to a doctor without lossof time.

  Long afterwards, when people used to speak before him of haunted houses,Bill Chester would remember the Pension Malfait and the extraordinarysensations he had experienced there--sensations the more extraordinarythat there was nothing to account for them.

  But Chester never told anyone of his experiences, and indeed there wasnothing to tell. He never saw anything, he never even heard anything, butnow and again, especially when he was lying awake at night and in theearly morning, the lawyer felt as if some other entity was struggling tocommunicate with him and could not do so....

  The whole time he was there--and he stayed on at Lacville, as we shallsee, rather longer than he at first intended--Chester never felt, when inhis room at the Pension Malfait really alone, and sometimes theimpression became almost intolerably vivid.