Chapter XX
A HIGH-CAULD-CAP
I was now upon the road, within two or three hundred yards of the DragonVolant. I had undertaken an adventure with a vengeance! And by way ofprelude, there not improbably awaited me, at my inn, another encounter,perhaps, this time, not so lucky, with the grotesque sabreur.
I was glad I had my pistols. I certainly was bound by no law to allow aruffian to cut me down, unresisting.
Stooping boughs from the old park, gigantic poplars on the other side,and the moonlight over all, made the narrow road to the inn-doorpicturesque.
I could not think very clearly just now; events were succeeding oneanother so rapidly, and I, involved in the action of a drama soextravagant and guilty, hardly knew myself or believed my own story, asI slowly paced towards the still open door of the Flying Dragon. No signof the Colonel, visible or audible, was there. In the hall I inquired.No gentleman had arrived at the inn for the last half hour. I lookedinto the public room. It was deserted. The clock struck twelve, and Iheard the servant barring the great door. I took my candle. The lightsin this rural hostelry were by this time out, and the house had the airof one that had settled to slumber for many hours. The cold moonlightstreamed in at the window on the landing as I ascended the broadstaircase; and I paused for a moment to look over the wooded grounds tothe turreted chateau, to me, so full of interest. I bethought me,however, that prying eyes might read a meaning in this midnight gazing,and possibly the Count himself might, in his jealous mood, surmise asignal in this unwonted light in the stair-window of the Dragon Volant.
On opening my room door, with a little start, I met an extremely oldwoman with the longest face I ever saw; she had what used to be termed ahigh-cauld-cap on, the white border of which contrasted with her brownand yellow skin, and made her wrinkled face more ugly. She raised hercurved shoulders, and looked up in my face, with eyes unnaturally blackand bright.
"I have lighted a little wood, Monsieur, because the night is chill."
I thanked her, but she did not go. She stood with her candle in hertremulous fingers.
"Excuse an old woman, Monsieur," she said; "but what on earth can ayoung English _milord_, with all Paris at his feet, find to amusehim in the Dragon Volant?"
Had I been at the age of fairy tales, and in daily intercourse with thedelightful Countess d'Aulnois, I should have seen in this witheredapparition, the _genius loci_, the malignant fairy, at the stamp ofwhose foot the ill-fated tenants of this very room had, from time totime, vanished. I was past that, however; but the old woman's dark eyeswere fixed on mine with a steady meaning that plainly told me that mysecret was known. I was embarrassed and alarmed; I never thought ofasking her what business that was of hers.
"These old eyes saw you in the park of the chateau tonight."
"_I_!" I began, with all the scornful surprise I could affect.
"It avails nothing, Monsieur; I know why you stay here; and I tell youto begone. Leave this house tomorrow morning, and never come again."
She lifted her disengaged hand, as she looked at me with intense horrorin her eyes.
"There is nothing on earth--I don't know what you mean," I answered,"and why should you care about me?"
"I don't care about you, Monsieur--I care about the honor of an ancientfamily, whom I served in their happier days, when to be noble was to behonored. But my words are thrown away, Monsieur; you are insolent. Iwill keep my secret, and you, yours; that is all. You will soon find ithard enough to divulge it."
The old woman went slowly from the room and shut the door, before I hadmade up my mind to say anything. I was standing where she had left me,nearly five minutes later. The jealousy of Monsieur the Count, Iassumed, appears to this old creature about the most terrible thing increation. Whatever contempt I might entertain for the dangers which thisold lady so darkly intimated, it was by no means pleasant, you maysuppose, that a secret so dangerous should be so much as suspected by astranger, and that stranger a partisan of the Count de St. Alyre.
Ought I not, at all risks, to apprise the Countess, who had trusted meso generously, or, as she said herself, so madly, of the fact that oursecret was, at least, suspected by another? But was there not greaterdanger in attempting to communicate? What did the beldame mean bysaying, "Keep your secret, and I'll keep mine?"
I had a thousand distracting questions before me. My progress seemedlike a journey through the Spessart, where at every step some new goblinor monster starts from the ground or steps from behind a tree.
Peremptorily I dismissed these harassing and frightful doubts. I securedmy door, sat myself down at my table and, with a candle at each side,placed before me the piece of vellum which contained the drawings andnotes on which I was to rely for full instructions as to how to use thekey.
When I had studied this for awhile I made my investigation. The angle ofthe room at the right side of the window was cut off by an oblique turnin the wainscot. I examined this carefully, and, on pressure, a smallbit of the frame of the woodwork slid aside, and disclosed a key-hole.On removing my finger, it shot back to its place again, with a spring.So far I had interpreted my instructions successfully. A similar search,next the door, and directly under this, was rewarded by a likediscovery. The small end of the key fitted this, as it had the upperkey-hole; and now, with two or three hard jerks at the key, a door inthe panel opened, showing a strip of the bare wall and a narrow, archeddoorway, piercing the thickness of the wall; and within which I saw ascrew staircase of stone.
Candle in hand I stepped in. I do not know whether the quality of air,long undisturbed, is peculiar; to me it has always seemed so, and thedamp smell of the old masonry hung in this atmosphere. My candle faintlylighted the bare stone wall that enclosed the stair, the foot of which Icould not see. Down I went, and a few turns brought me to the stonefloor. Here was another door, of the simple, old, oak kind, deep sunk inthe thickness of the wall. The large end of the key fitted this. Thelock was stiff; I set the candle down upon the stair, and applied bothhands; it turned with difficulty and, as it revolved, uttered a shriekthat alarmed me for my secret.
For some minutes I did not move. In a little time, however, I tookcourage, and opened the door. The night-air floating in puffed out thecandle. There was a thicket of holly and underwood, as dense as ajungle, close about the door. I should have been in pitch-darkness, wereit not that through the topmost leaves there twinkled, here and there, aglimmer of moonshine.
Softly, lest anyone should have opened his window at the sound of therusty bolt, I struggled through this till I gained a view of the opengrounds. Here I found that the brushwood spread a good way up the park,uniting with the wood that approached the little temple I havedescribed.
A general could not have chosen a more effectually-covered approach fromthe Dragon Volant to the trysting-place where hitherto I had conferredwith the idol of my lawless adoration.
Looking back upon the old inn I discovered that the stair I descendedwas enclosed in one of those slender turrets that decorate suchbuildings. It was placed at that angle which corresponded with the partof the paneling of my room indicated in the plan I had been studying.
Thoroughly satisfied with my experiment I made my way back to the doorwith some little difficulty, remounted to my room, locked my secret dooragain; kissed the mysterious key that her hand had pressed that night,and placed it under my pillow, upon which, very soon after, my giddyhead was laid, not, for some time, to sleep soundly.