The Chevalier d'Auriac

by S. Levett Yeats

'Pantin,' I said, 'I have taken a room here—you understand?'

'And I,' he answered, 'have sold a cabbage to Babette. If you hear nothing more, meet me at dusk in the square behind St. Martin's.'

There was no time to say more, for we heard the fence coming back. Pantin went off down the street, and I, after a word or two with the man, and an order to his wife regarding my meals, went slowly up to my room.

CHAPTER XVIII

[THE SKYLIGHT IN THE TOISON D'OR]

Once back in my room, I flung off my cloak and took a survey of my new quarters. The room was long and low, and situated in the topmost story of the house. In one corner was a settle covered with a faded brocade, whilst on the other side there was a wardrobe and a few necessaries. The bed was placed at the extreme end of the room, and close to the window which overlooked the back of the house, and through which, from where I stood, the blue sky alone was visible, there was a table and a couple of chairs. Between the table and the bed intervened a clear space, about ten feet by six, covered with a coarse carpeting. If I am thus precise in my description, I would say I have done so in order to explain clearly what follows.

So far things were satisfactory enough, and beyond what I had a right to expect in such a locality. The one drawback was that I would be compelled to use the turret at the end of the passage for my watch, and thus run the risk of being observed from the other houses. In the meantime I determined to see exactly what could be effected from the window, and pushing the table aside, so as to get a better view, looked out. I then saw that the house I was in as well as the Toison d'Or were both built against the remains of the old walls of Paris. Below me there was a sheer drop of fifty or sixty feet, right into the bed of the abandoned fosse, which was covered by a thick undergrowth and full of débris, A little beyond the fosse was a portion of what was known as the new wall. This was perhaps in a more ruinous condition than the fortification it was supposed to have replaced. The brushwood grew thick and high against it, and I could see the gap where a breach had been effected, probably during the last siege, when the Sixteen and Madame de Montpensier held Paris against the two kings. Beyond that stretched the open country, where, had I a mind to linger on the view, I might have made out the windings of the river, the houses of Corneuve, and the woods of Dugny and Gonesse. But it was not of these I was thinking, for in that survey I had grasped the fact that de Gomeron could not have chosen a spot better suited for his purposes than the Toison d'Or. It was a part of Paris as secure as if it had been cut off from the city and set in some unknown island, such as those who sail to the New World describe. I thought at first of stopping any further concern with the window, but as I was turning away I looked rather particularly at the wall below me, and saw that a ledge ran along it about three feet below the window. Following its track with my eyes, I observed that it was carried along the face of the Toison d'Or, and in doing this I became aware that there was a window open at the back of Babette's house, and that this was situated on the same level as my room, but just about the middle instead of the extreme end, as mine was. When I considered the position of this window, and that its look-out was on a place where never a soul seemed to come, I could not but think that if Madame were in the Toison d'Or, that in all probability her room was there, and I swore bitterly to myself at the thought of how impossible it would be to reach her. I then craned out and looked upwards, and saw that my house was a half-story lower than the Toison d'Or, and that, whilst the latter had a high sloping roof, the portion of the building in which I was appeared to be a long and narrow terrace with a low machicolated parapet running along the edge. Thus if there were a door or window in the Toison d'Or that opened on to my roof, it would be possible to step out thereon; and then I drew back, my blood burning. If it was possible to step out from the Toison d'Or on to the roof of the house I occupied, it might be equally easy to get thence into the Toison d'Or. Taking my sword, I measured the distance of the ledge from the window-sill, and then, holding on to the mullions by one hand, stretched out as far as I could, and found I could just touch the top of the parapet with the point of my blade. In short, the position was this: that so hard and smooth was the outside of the wall, it was impossible for anything save a lizard to get along it to the window behind which I supposed Madame was prisoned; yet it was feasible, with the aid of a rope thrown over the grinning head of the gargoyle a little above me, or else over the low battlement of the parapet, to reach the roof, and the odds were in favour of there being some sort of a door or window that would give ingress thence into the Toison d'Or. I began after this to be a little more satisfied with my quarters, and determined to set about my explorations about the dinner hour, when most people would be within, and the chance of discovery reduced to a minimum. I did not feel justified in putting the matter off until nightfall, as I have often observed that there was no time so good as the one I had chosen for affairs which depended much for their results upon a surprise. I now stepped out of my room, and, walking along the passage, looked out from the little turret along the face of the street. It was more alive than I had ever seen it before, but the occupants were principally women and children, with a man or so here and there. I saw that whilst the sunlight fell in patchwork and long narrow stretches on the street, it was bright enough where I was, and I perceived I had a good excuse for spending such time as I intended to behind the embrasures of the turret. And this excuse I had to bring into play at once, for as I stood there I heard a footstep on the passage, and, turning, observed the woman of the house.

'I see,' she began, 'you are already in your turret.'

'I like the sun, my good woman, and have had a long journey.'

Something in my tone made her look at me oddly, and I began to wish I were well away from the keen scrutiny of her eyes. She dropped the tutoyer and asked: