At the rolling of the wheels, the door opened as by enchantment, and the carriage vanished in the black gulf of the mansion courtyard.
There was no need of any mystery, for nobody was about to see the count come home or mark what he brought, even if it were the treasure-chest of St. Denis Abbey.
A skillful calculator, given the size of the building lot and that of the house on street, would be surprised how so small a one covered so much ground. The fact of the matter was that there stood a house behind the outer house, known only to the tenant.
A German servant, aged about thirty; closed the coachway door and bolted it. Opening the coach door while the emotionless driver unharnessed the team, he drew from within the senseless Lorenza, whom he carried indoors to an antechamber. He laid her on a table and discreetly wrapped her in her long veil to the feet.
He went out to light at the coach lamps a seven-candle chandelier, with which he came back.
During that short space, Lorenza had disappeared.
In fact Count Fenix had entered after the valet went out. He had taken up the girl in his arms, and carried her out by a secret passage into a room furnished with trophies of outlandish weapons.
With his foot he pressed the spring of the backplate of the high fireplace, which turned on well-oiled hinges, so that the count could go forth, as he did, while the secret panel slid to behind him.
On the other side of the chimney was another flight of steps. Mounting a dozen, covered with Utrecht velvet carpet, he reached the sill of a room elegantly tapestried with satin, so wonderfully embroidered in high relief with flowers in their natural colors that they seemed real.
The extremely rich furniture was of a boudoir and toilet chamber leading to a parlor.