The man who had escorted us to the chateau was sent to fetch Monsieur de Pepicot's baggage; and would have brought his horse also, but that Monsieur de Pepicot mildly but firmly insisted otherwise and despatched orders for its care in his absence. The baggage consisted of a somewhat sorry looking portmanteau, which was taken to our chamber. We then had supper, during which the Count and my long-nosed friend talked of chess play, while Captain Ferragant ate in frowning silence, now and then casting no very tolerant glances at us two visitors. I would have tried by conversation to gain some closer knowledge of this man, but I saw there was no getting him to talk while that mood lasted. After supper the Count and the Captain sat over their wine in a manner which showed a long drinking bout to be their regular evening custom. Monsieur de Pepicot and I accompanied them as far as our position as guests required. We then plead the fatigue of recent travel, and were shown to our room, in which an additional bed had been placed. The Count was by this time sufficiently forward in his devotions to Bacchus to dispense easily with such dull company as ours, and the Captain, by the free breath he drew as we rose to go, showed his relief at our departure.
When the servant had placed our candles and left us alone, I expressed a wonder why so great a house could not afford us a room apiece.
"It is very simple," said the long-nosed man, opening his portmanteau. "If they should take a fancy to make caged birds of us, it's easier tending one cage than two."
I went to bed wondering what the morrow had in store. I saw now clearly that I might accomplish something by informing the Count that Monsieur de Merri was dead and that he was on his way to Lavardin when I met him. His failure to appear could not then be held as evidence of guilt: his intention to come might count much in the Countess's favour.
As my head sank into the pillow, there came suddenly to my mind the second of the three maxims Blaise Tripault had learned from the monk:
"Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife young."
CHAPTER VII.
STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES
Monsieur de Pepicot spent so many minutes among the contents of his travelling bag, that he was not in bed as soon as I. But he was by far the sooner asleep, as his loud snoring testified. To that music ran my thoughts of the beautiful young Countess and her unhappy situation, till at last they passed into dreams. In the midst of the night I woke, and listened for my neighbour's snoring. But it had ceased. Then I strained my ears to catch the sound of his breathing, but none came. Wondering at this, I rose and went over toward his bed. There was just light enough by the window to see that it was empty.