"I had only just got there when I fancied I heard a rustling outside. 'Mercy me!' I thought; 'this isn't signaling time; but I hope no one is coming for the kegs.' I scrambled up the staircase a good deal quicker than I picked my way down, and crawled through the hole in the cupboard. Then I nearly jumped out of my skin, for I saw a man sitting on the rickety chair. It was Monsieur de Fronsac."
CHAPTER IX
CLOSE QUARTERS
"Ah, Monsieur Jack!" said De Fronsac, with his agreeable smile; "I see you!" Jack laughed. It was only the Frenchman after all! His fear that it might be a smuggler was groundless.
"Yes; I'm too black for a ghost; 'tis a confoundedly dirty place, Monsieur. But how do you come here?"
"It is ver' simple, ver' simple indeed. I came out in de early morning, to promenade myself, and to compose a new sonnet on de Monstair. Behold! Vat do I see? De trap-door of dis tower is open; and, vat is dis?—assuredly I see steps mounting up to de very sommit. I am romantic, as you know, Monsieur; I love de bizarre. Can I venture myself? Dat old Congleton—vat a strange, an eccentric! I vould like to see de place vere he lived so solitaire. I climb; I have a little fear; but I make de ascension; I arrive. Ho! Dis, den, is de place. Vat a magnificent spot for to compose poesy! How beautiful de spectacle over de blue, blue sea! Magnificent! Glorious! Old Congleton had a genius, hein? But you, Monsieur Jack, how came you here?"
"The same way as you, Monsieur."
"Ah! remarkable! You do not compose poesy in de early morning! You, I t'ink—and your good cousin t'inks—you sail on de blue, blue sea. De steps, too; surely dey are new. Never have I observed dem before. It is remarkable! Old Congleton—did he ascend de tower in dat manner? Or perhaps de steps are your vork; you invent dem, Monsieur Jack?"
"No," said Jack shortly. He had never liked De Fronsac's smile.
"Den of whom? Who invent dem? Dey demand much care and skill; yes, and industry. And for vat good to spend so much time? It vould be easier to valk up de stairs—if de door is open, of course dat is understood. But truly it is more romantic—it has more of de fun, as you English say, to mount on de outside, on little steps, from hand to foot, vun may say. Yes, and if in my youth I had not lived much among de sailors of my little village, assuredly I should not have had de courage to make an attempt so perilous. Ve sailors, indeed, have de firm leg, de fixed eye."