“Marry, I saw thee, worshipful Signior, in the act of embracing the Count; and such a warm, kind, brotherly embrace as it was! By St. Withold! it did me more good than a hundred of Father Antonio’s homilies—by my faith, it did!”
The thin visage of Aldarin became white as snow and red as crimson by turns. Making an effort to conceal his agitation, he replied:
“Well, well, Robin, thou art a good fellow after all, though, to be sure, thy manners are somewhat rough. I tell thee, brave yeoman, I have long had it in my mind to advance thy condition. Follow me to the Round Room, good Robin, where I will speak further to thee of this matter.”
“The Round Room!” murmured Robin, as he followed the scholar Aldarin from the Red Chamber. “Ha! ’tis the secret chamber o’ th’ scholar; many, many have been seen entering its confines—never a single man has been seen emerging from its narrow door, save the scholar Aldarin! I’ll beware the serpent’s pangs! I’ll drink no goblets o’ wine, touch no food or dainty viands while in this Round Room; or else, by St. Withold, Rough Robin’s place may be vacant in the hall, forever and a day!”
With these thoughts traversing his mind, the yeoman followed the scholar over the floor of the ante-chamber, and as they entered the confines of a gloomy corridor, a spectacle was visible, which, to say the least, was marked by curious and singular features.
Imagine the solemn scholar striding slowly along the corridor with measured and gliding footsteps, while behind him walks Robin the Rough, describing various eccentric figures in the air with his clenched hands; now brandishing them above the Signior’s head, now exhibiting a remarkable display of muscular vigor at the very back of Aldarin; and again, making a pass with all his strength apparently at the body of the alchymist, but in reality at the intangible atmosphere. These demonstrations did not appear to give the stout yeoman much pain, for his cheeks were very much agitated, and from his eyes were rolling thick, large tears of laughter.
The corridor terminated in a long, dark gallery hung with pictures colored by age, and framed in massive oak. Traversing this gallery, they ascended a staircase of stone, and passing along another corridor, terminated by a winding staircase. This, the scholar and the yeoman descended, and then came another gallery, another ascending stairway, and then various labyrinthine passages traversed, Rough Robin at last found himself standing side by side with Aldarin, in front of the dark panels of the narrow door leading into the Round Room.
This room was scarce ever visited by any living being in the castle save Aldarin, and strange legends concerning its mysterious secrets were current among the servitors of Albarone.
Many had been seen entering its confines with the Signior, but never was any one, save Aldarin, seen to emerge from its gloomy door.