On the second floor Cunette showed them the room where the oubliettes—dungeons—were. But the sugar manufacturer had had all the trapdoors removed, and Robineau considered that he had done very well. Above was the arsenal of the château; but all that they found there were a few rusty cuirasses, a few hiltless swords, a few hammerless muskets, and a few headless lances. At last they arrived at the platform of the tower, whence there was a very beautiful prospect. The young men admired the view of the neighboring mountains, and of the pretty town of Saint-Amand, surrounded by water. While they were looking at the landscape, Monsieur Cunette prudently seated himself in the centre of the platform, saying:
"I can’t look from such a height myself; it always makes me dizzy."
They were about to leave the tower when Edouard cried:
"Look, Alfred, on that little mound just by the edge of the moat; do you see that man who is looking at the château so closely? do you recognize him?"
"Why, yes! It’s the man who was at the inn at Clermont-Ferrand, and who offered to be our guide. He has a face and a costume which render him easily recognizable."
"What!" said Robineau, walking toward them, "that evil-looking fellow here!—Yes, on my word! it’s he; I recognize that thick stick he is leaning on. How he stares at my château! He doesn’t move; one would say that he was a statue!—I would like right well to know why he stares at my property so!"
"There is really something very strange in that man’s expression and in his whole aspect," said Edouard.
"Strange! you are very moderate; say rather, suspicious, threatening, wicked. Why, he doesn’t take his eyes off my château!—I say, concierge!"
The concierge was nearly asleep; he raised his head, and said in an uncertain voice:
"What do you want?"