Reaching the iron gate of the courtyard, Mr. de Roisel got down to ring the bell, but finding that the gate was not fastened he opened it, and the chaise drew up at the stone steps of the entrance door. The house appeared large, but very much out of repair. The walls were crumbling in parts, and broken shutters hung at the windows; but this appearance of decay or disorder seemed rather the effect of negligence than of poverty.
They soon heard the sound of slow footsteps approaching from the inside, and an old woman, having the look of a housekeeper, appeared at the door. Glancing at our travellers, she turned back into the house, and they could hear her call out to some one within:—“It’s the gentleman who wrote to you the day before yesterday. I was sure you would not be ready to receive him.”
“Well, well, Marianne,” replied a man’s voice, “I’m making all the haste I can.”
“Sir,” said the old woman, coming forward again, and addressing Mr. de Roisel, making at the same time a curtsey after the manner of a peasant, “you are welcome. If you will trouble yourself to walk into the drawing-room, my master will join you there in an instant. Michel will take the horse to the stable, sir. See, he’s coming as quickly as he can. He doesn’t run very fast; his legs are like mine—a little stiff. In truth, he’s no longer young. He has been our gardener, sir, for more than fifty years.”
Michel was a little withered old man, bent from age, and from the habit of stooping at his work.
“Sir,” said he, in a shaking voice, “excuse my slowness; I have no longer the activity of a youth. Besides, I had a good walk this morning to go after the police.”
“It is true then, this robbery I have heard of? What has been stolen? Any money?”
“No, unfortunately,” replied the old woman; “if it were only money my master would not care so much. He thinks little about money—not enough, indeed. But the thieves have carried away some precious and curious things that never can be replaced. Still we ought to thank Providence that we all remained fast asleep while the robbers were in the house. If we had wakened up, perhaps they would have cut our throats. But come in, I beg, sir.”
As they entered the room, Marianne went on:—“It must be confessed that my master himself is partly to blame for what has happened. He never would have the doors fastened or the windows barred up. He trusts everybody. But won’t you sit down, sir?” (Here she put forward some chairs) “You see we might all have been murdered, sir. That would have mattered very little for Michel and me; we are so old; but for him!—I tremble to think of it.”
While the old woman chattered away, Mr. de Roisel looked round the room, but he saw nothing there to justify the character which Mr. Duberger bore of being an enlightened collector of curiosities and works of art, as well as a man of science. The furniture was extremely old, and of the fashion of fifty years ago. Some badly executed drawings hung on the walls; and an old-fashioned clock stood on the mantelpiece.