As Ludovic and his companions made their way up the winding road their curiosity grew at every step. And the curiosity was not altogether without apprehension.
“The last thing I looked to find in these wilds,” Ompertz observed with a puzzled look at the grey silent building. “It is like a fairy tale.”
Ludovic was a little anxious, having his responsibility in mind, as to the outcome of the adventure. But such ideas did not seem to trouble Ompertz.
“Our greatest piece of luck,” he said, “is that the palace is inhabited. There are plenty of old castles about in these parts, but they have been handed over long ago to the bats and owls. Now, that lighted window bodes a more comfortable reception than a screech and a flutter.”
“No doubt it is a shooting-lodge,” Ludovic suggested.
“It can be nothing else,” Ompertz agreed. “We may look for a good supper and a night’s rest, if not for a carriage.”
They had now reached the gateway which led to the entrance door. Here the horses were made fast, and then Ompertz pulled the iron bell-handle that hung in the porch. Scarcely had his hand left it, when the door was thrown open, sending a blinding flood of brightness into the black night, and disclosing a great square hall, hung with trophies and implements of the chase. Two men in quaint liveries stood at the door. As it opened they made way for a third with white hair and beard, who came forward and, with a bow, motioned the travellers to enter. Ludovic in a few words gave the reason of their seeking shelter. Taking it as a matter of course, the old man listened gravely, and then ushering them into a room off the hall, asked them to wait there.
“I will at once inform my master of your arrival,” he said deferentially, and so left them.
The four looked at one another in astonishment.
“Well, if this is not an extraordinary place to light upon in the mountains,” Ompertz exclaimed, accepting his good fortune with a laugh.