“It is not a pleasant sight that you will see,” said M. le Comte, “nor pleasant words that you will hear——”
“We are not children,” broke in madame. “Come, Charlotte.”
M. le Comte lighted them up the stair and then turned back to me.
“It is evident there is no rope here,” he said, holding the candle above his head and looking about the apartment. “The old furnishings hang together better than one would think,” he added.
It was not until then—so occupied had my mind been with other matters—that I perceived with what sumptuousness the place was fitted up. The tapestries were faded and dusty, the coverings of the furniture moth-eaten and decayed, and the room itself cobwebbed and moldy—but it was impressive, nevertheless. It was of good size, octagonal, conforming in shape to the tower, and in four of the sides small, shuttered windows were set. Tapestries and furniture alike had evidently been of the most costly and elegant description.
“This was the boudoir of the fair Gabrielle,” observed M. le Comte, looking about him with a smile. “It has been years since I set foot here and I had forgotten how it looked. You will see that with my ancestor it was a real passion; he did not spare himself. In fact I should hate to confess how much, first and last, she cost his family. Below is her bedchamber.”
We went down the stair into another room even more luxuriously furnished. The great bed stood at one side with curtains drawn. One almost expected to see a small hand pluck them aside and to hear a shrill voice demand the meaning of our intrusion, or to be suddenly confronted by that old gallant Favras, oath on lip and sword in hand. Here there were no windows, only narrow slits sufficient to admit air and light but not wide enough to permit of assault from without. We made a careful circuit of the apartment, but found nothing which could by any possibility serve as a rope.
“There is one more chance,” said M. le Comte, and led the way to the bottom story.
This had been divided into two rooms, one a sort of vestibule into which the outer door opened and from which the stair ascended, and the other a store-room. The vestibule was quite empty, and the store-room contained nothing but a pile of rotting casks and broken bottles.
My companion looked at them with a whimsical countenance.