Chapter XXIV: The Ghost.--The North Tower

Two days had passed since the visit Edouard had paid to the White House, and despite the suspicions which had arisen in his mind, when he saw Isaure his anxiety always vanished; she displayed so sincere an attachment for him, told him so earnestly how pleased she was that she had won his love, that he often blushed at the thought that he could give way to any feeling of jealousy.

Alfred, however, noticed that Edouard did not seem to be so happy as he should have been; more than once he had asked of his friend the reason of the melancholy and anxiety which he read in his eyes; and he always replied:

"Nothing is the matter, my dear Alfred; but you know very well that lovers are never entirely satisfied. If I had any real cause for unhappiness, to whom could I more fittingly confide it than to him who sacrificed his love to mine?"

But one day more, and Mademoiselle de la Pincerie would become Robineau’s wife. All the documents were ready, the gifts were purchased, the dresses prepared. The wedding was to take place at the town; and the husband and wife were to return thence to the château, where the wedding feast would be spread. It would have been more in accordance with custom that the bride’s family should return to their own house in the town, and that the groom should go thither to fetch his wife. But among his economical plans, the marquis numbered a determination never to keep house again, but to live always at his son-in-law’s château. That is why all the family had remained there. As the marquis declared that only the lower orders danced on their wedding-day, it was agreed that there should be no ball, and no dancing at the château; but Robineau had obtained from his future father-in-law a promise not to play whist that evening.

Nearly an hour had elapsed since all the guests in the château had separated in search of repose. Robineau, who had persuaded himself that he was very much in love, and who deemed himself highly honored to enter the family of a marquis, reflected that on the following day he was to lead the superb Cornélie to the altar, that the whole town would probably go to church to witness the ceremony, and that the wedding would be talked about for a long time. Cornélie thought of nothing but the two dresses that she was to wear that day, and the anger which all the young ladies would feel who had flattered themselves that they would be Robineau’s choice.

She remembered too that she was about to be the lady and mistress at the château, and she proposed to make the most of the privileges which those titles conferred upon her.

Edouard gave but little thought to the marriage which was in preparation. All his ideas, all his affections were centered in the little valley which contained Isaure and the White House, and he had too much to think about to make sleep easy for him. The marquis and his brother Mignon were already sound asleep; the former dreaming that he had invented a way of bringing up children on vapor; the other that he was looking for pins in a haystack. As for Alfred and Eudoxie, I cannot tell you positively what they were doing.

But suddenly shrieks were heard in the part of the building occupied by the servants. It was Benoît’s voice, waking the scullions, the cook and the concierge. He called them in great haste, shouting as loud as his fright allowed him to do:

"Get up! Look at the tower! Look over there! It’s the ghost! This time they’re not likely to say that I see double!"

Mademoiselle Cheval had gone to her window; she saw a light in one of the windows of the abandoned tower, whereupon she added her shrieks to Benoît’s.

"It is true!" she cried; "there is something there; perhaps it’s a thief; that light ought to be arrested!"

All the servants were soon on their feet; and as Monsieur de la Roche-Noire had told them that he would discharge them all if they did not discover what it was that had frightened them, they thought that they had better wake their master and let him see what was taking place. So they ran to the large gallery on the first floor, on which the chief apartments opened. The shouts of the servants woke Robineau with a start. He thought that the château was on fire; so he rang for François, and his first words when he appeared were:

"Firemen! firemen!"

"Firemen for the ghost, monsieur?" asked François in surprise.

"The ghost!" cried Robineau, putting his legs back into bed. "What! has anyone seen anything horrible?"

"We’ve seen a light in the North Tower, monsieur!"

"A light! the deuce! Go at once, François, and wake the gentlemen. Wake everybody! I will get up at once."

François went to Alfred’s door and knocked, but no one answered. Soon, however, all the other doors opened except Eudoxie’s. Edouard had drawn on his trousers, and came out to inquire the cause of the uproar. Cornélie, in a dressing jacket, over which she had hastily thrown a large silk shawl, appeared, with a candle in her hand. Monsieur Férulus also arrived, followed by Jeannette, whom no one had seen heretofore, and who had put on over her night-dress an old black waistcoat, which in no wise resembled a dressing jacket; while Monsieur Férulus, in his haste, had put on a housemaid’s cap; but everybody was too much engrossed to notice that. Everybody questioned everybody else.

"It’s the ghost in the tower!" said all the servants, while Mademoiselle Cornélie did not cease to call her sister, saying:

"And Monsieur Alfred, too--why doesn’t he get up?"

Robineau appeared in a pair of drawers in the waistband of which he had thrust a pair of pistols, while he had his gun under his left arm and a razor in his right hand.

At last Eudoxie partly opened her door, saying in a low voice:

"Why do you knock so at my door? It is a shame to wake me so suddenly! This will make me ill for a fortnight! I certainly shan’t go roaming about after the ghost! Let me sleep, I beg you; I have a sick headache."

"You shall have your sick headache some other night, sister," said Cornélie; "but as everybody else is up, you might as well do like the rest."

Eudoxie showed much temper, but finally came out of her room, half covered by a pelisse which she had thrown over her shoulders, and taking pains to stand in front of her door.

At that moment all the servants began to shriek at the top of their voices:

"There it is! It’s coming here!" they cried. And they ran to the other end of the gallery, pushing and jostling one another, while from the opposite direction advanced majestically a tall white figure, which was no other than Monsieur le Marquis de la Pincerie, who, with his tall, thin form, his fluttering night-shirt and his nightcap, might very well pass for a spectre.

Robineau had already taken aim at his future father-in-law, when he was recognized by his familiar cough.

"It is monsieur le marquis!" cried Robineau; "I believe that these fellows have become idiots."

"Certainly, it is I," said Monsieur de la Pincerie, stalking as proudly in his night-shirt as if he were in full uniform. "What has happened, in heaven’s name? Has anybody made an attack on the château?"

"Yes, what is it all about?" asked Alfred, who, in the midst of the uproar caused by the arrival of the marquis, had suddenly appeared among the company, no one knew whence.

"Ah, there you are, monsieur!" said Cornélie, with a sarcastic air. "For a gallant man, you are very slow in coming to the assistance of ladies."

"Because, mademoiselle, I thought that before all else, I ought at least to put on the necessary clothing."

"Yes," said Monsieur Férulus, stepping forward, "decency and good morals before everything,----"

Férulus did not finish his sentence, for he suddenly noticed that Jeannette was wearing an easily recognizable waistcoat. He led her into a dark corner of the gallery, and there while Jeannette removed his cap, he hastily took off the waistcoat, saying:

"_Errare humanum est_, Jeannette."

"But after all, what is the cause of all this shouting and uproar?" said Edouard.

"It’s the ghost, the spirit, walking in the tower at this time of night!" said Benoît.

"We all of us saw a light," said the servants.

"Well," said Alfred, "we must go and examine the tower, that’s all."

"That is so," said Robineau, "we must send all these cowards to examine the tower."

"Where is my Uncle Mignon?" asked Cornélie; "he is the only one who isn’t up."

"He absolutely refused to get out from under his bedclothes," said the marquis; "I told him to get up, but it was in vain. He never showed so much resolution before."

"Let us leave Monsieur Mignon under his bedclothes," said Edouard, "and let us go to the tower. Come, concierge, you know the way,--guide us."

Monsieur Cunette was no longer so incredulous since he had seen the light; he displayed much disinclination to guide the young men; and the other servants were no more anxious than he to accompany them to the tower.

"But, messieurs, who is going to take care of us?" said Eudoxie; "for we certainly are not going to examine that horrible tower with you."

"For my part, I am going back to bed," said the marquis; "for I feel a cold wind which makes me shiver, and if I had known that all this fuss was about a ghost, I would have done just as Mignon has--I would have remained in my bed."

"Mesdames, I will stay and take care of you," said Robineau; "I will not stir from your side; I refuse to leave you for an instant."

The ladies did not seem very much reassured by Robineau’s presence, and they absolutely insisted that Alfred or Edouard should remain with them also. But the former had already started, compelling the concierge to walk in front of him; so that Edouard was obliged to remain with the ladies, while Robineau said to the other servants:

"Follow Alfred, and at the slightest danger call me. It is very disagreeable not to be able to sleep in peace on the eve of one’s wedding!"

The servants bowed obediently, but when they reached the end of the gallery, they turned toward the kitchen instead of toward the tower.

Meanwhile, Alfred, carrying a torch in one hand and in the other a pistol which he had taken from Robineau, went with Cunette down the stairs which led to the door of the tower.

"Come, open this door," he said to the concierge.

"Open this door? Does monsieur really mean to go in there?"

"To be sure I do."

"You see there’s only two of us, monsieur; those other cowards didn’t come with us."

"We two are enough to arrest a thief, if there really is one in this building."

"But suppose there’s more than one, monsieur?"

"Then we could call for help."

"Yes, but before anyone could come to our help----"

"Open the door, Monsieur Cunette, I say!"

"I can’t find the key, monsieur; I must have left it in my room."

Alfred, losing his patience, dealt the old door a violent kick; it gave way and flew open, to the great surprise of the concierge. While the latter made his reflections thereupon, Alfred ascended the winding staircase; and when Cunette saw that the young man had gone up without him, he, instead of following him, went back to his comrades.

Alfred entered the old apartments on the first floor; he found no one there, and everything was in the same order as when he had visited the tower with Robineau. On leaving the first floor, he found that the concierge had left him; he pursued his investigations none the less, and went up to the floor above; finding no one there either, he went still higher up, and was about to enter the room called the arsenal, when he distinctly heard someone therein. He stopped, cocked his pistol, and listened; the noise had ceased. He abruptly opened the door of that room, which was as dark as night; but he fancied that he could see some one, absolutely still, in one corner. He walked toward that object, holding his light before him, and soon recognized the vagabond, seated tranquilly in an old armchair.

Alfred started back in surprise, and the stranger smiled, saying:

"You hardly expected to find me here, did you?"

"That is true," said Alfred, setting his candle down near him. "But what are you doing in this tower? How did you get into this château at night? Why have you come here? Answer me, and do not try to deceive me."

"What am I doing in this tower? Why, you see: I am resting. How did I get in? Oh! quite simply, through the door; for I have not the faculty of passing through keyholes, as the imbeciles in this château think. What I have come here for to-day is to see you, to whom I wished to speak secretly; and as I never meet you now in the mountains, because you never leave the château, I had no choice but to come here to see you; and it was my intention to tap lightly at the door of your room to-night."

The placidity, the perfect coolness with which the stranger answered Alfred, added to the latter’s surprise; he could not imagine that a malefactor, a man who had come there with the purpose of committing theft, would speak to him so calmly; moreover, there was nothing in the tower to tempt the cupidity of a thief; and he remembered that the man before him had not long before refused a purse which he had offered him.

The stranger, apparently divining the young man’s thoughts, said:

"You cannot imagine that I have come into this château for the purpose of committing theft. Since you have been living here with the new owner there have been very few nights that I have not come into this tower to rest; but I have never wished or attempted to go into any other part of the château, which, however, it would have been very easy for me to do. No, this place alone attracts me; it recalls memories of my childhood. I used to live in this château, in the time of the old dowager of whom you have heard. I noticed that no one lived in this tower, that it was altogether deserted, and I saw no great harm in coming sometimes at night to seek shelter within these walls, where I used to sleep so soundly long ago."

The stranger’s speech had become slow and melancholy as he said these last words; and, apparently engrossed by the memories which that old room in which he sat aroused in his mind, he glanced about at the walls, blackened by time, at the armor eaten by rust, which could still be seen in some of the corners. A sigh escaped from his breast, his eyes were moist; all his features expressed misery in the present and regret for the past.

Alfred could not avoid a secret thrill of emotion at the demeanor of that strange man.

"But," he said after a moment, "how do you get into the château?"

"Oh! that is very simple; near the little summerhouse in the garden, behind the statue of Mars, there is a little gate which has all the appearance of being condemned, because no one uses it; it happens that I still have the key to this gate, which opens into the fields. That is the way that I get into the garden; and from the garden it is not difficult to come here by following the main path, then the terrace; and without entering by the door you opened, one can go through the cellars and up to the ground floor."

"I see that you know the château perfectly, better, I am inclined to think, than the man who has bought it."

"In my childhood I have so often run through these corridors, these secret passages! In those days I was romantic, too. This Gothic château seemed to me well suited to the marvelous adventures of the days of chivalry; and I should have been overjoyed to meet a phantom in the vaults of this tower; but I never had that pleasure."

"But you must have expected to be seen, walking about with a light through these rooms?"

"There have been only two nights that I have lighted this little lantern with my flint and steel; I supposed that everybody in the château was asleep, and that they would not see the light in this tower. I could not resist the desire to see, to examine once more various things which I formerly--which were used long ago by the persons who lived in this château; and as there is not always a moon, you will agree that it would have been rather difficult to have gratified my curiosity without a light."

"Do you know that if anyone but myself had fallen in with you by night, you would have been arrested, imprisoned perhaps?"

"When one has reached the point where I am, what more has one to fear? Besides, I knew very well that no one in this château, except you and your friend, would be tempted to come to this tower at night; and indeed, if I had chosen to drive them all from the château, I should only have had to walk in the direction of the inhabited apartments at night with a sheet over my head; I will answer for it that the present owner would have been the first to take flight; but, I say again, I have never intended to frighten anybody, or to take anything from anybody; if I did frighten the old gardener once, I did it unintentionally; I did not expect to meet him in the garden so late."

"I believe you," said Alfred. "But let us come to what concerns me; you say that it is I whom you came here to see to-night. What have you to say to me? Speak."

The stranger’s features lost the expression which his memories of the past had seemed to inspire, and resumed that which they ordinarily wore.

"Yes," he replied, smiling sarcastically, "let us come to that subject; the present should be more important than all that has gone by, and can never return. It seems that, when you gave up to your friend the woman who had fascinated you, you altogether renounced the conquest of the little goatherd, as you no longer go to see her."

"What does it matter to you? Do I owe you an account of my sentiments? If you desire to speak to me with the purpose of renewing your hateful proposals, you are wasting your time; and I forbid you----"

"La! la! calm yourself, monsieur le baron! Oh! I have no desire to argue with you; but I should be very glad to convince you that I was not mistaken in the judgment I expressed concerning the girl whose innocence you feared to sully. A poor Agnes! who desires to induce your friend to marry her! I knew that there was something underneath it all."

"What more do you know about Isaure? Explain yourself."

"Her friend has arrived."

"Her friend?"

"Yes; or, at all events, the man who takes care of her, call him what you please. I was very certain, for my own part, that these dull-witted peasants could not have taught the girl the pretty manners which fascinated you. And then, the education which she has received, her marked ease of manner,--all that could come only from a man who loves her, and who, doubtless from jealousy, keeps her concealed among these mountains, where he hopes his treasure will not be discovered. Well, I tell you again, that man arrived this evening."

"Did you see him at Isaure’s house?"

"At her house? Oh, no! He is prudent; he does not go to the girl’s house; he is doubtless afraid of compromising her or of meeting people there; and from the precautions which this mysterious personage takes, it is easy to judge that he is terribly afraid of being seen."

"Go on."

"Well, the White House is the place where they meet."

"The White House?"

"Yes; I do not know whether this stranger is the owner; but what is certain is that he has the keys. He evidently arrived there this evening, and soon a little light shone at one of the windows of the house. Instantly the girl, who had been on the watch for some time, hurriedly left her cottage, and ran at full speed to the White House; a man, whom I saw very plainly, for I was hidden near by, opened the door, and the girl went in. What they did then, I cannot tell you precisely; but, not for a full hour did the door open again, and the young girl came out and returned to her own house, after an affectionate parting from the man she left behind. So all the mystery is cleared up! Now we know the perfectly natural cause of that which frightens the mountaineers in the neighborhood! We know, in short, why the girl was the only one who had no fear of the White House! It is almost always so; a lot of noise for nothing; marvelous happenings, which are nothing out of the common when examined at close quarters."

Alfred had listened attentively to the vagabond. He had much difficulty in believing that Isaure, who had seemed so artless and frank, could have deceived them to that extent.

"Are you perfectly certain of all you have told me?" he said at last, gazing fixedly at the man before him.

"If you don’t believe me, assure yourself of it. It is not probable that the man I saw has come into this part of the country for a single day. Your eyes will satisfy you that I have told you the truth; and you will regret perhaps that you did not follow my advice; you will be sorry that you stood on so much ceremony with a little sly-boots who laughed at you and your friend; but, I say again that, whenever you please, it will be easy enough to make up for lost time."

As he spoke, the stranger took his little lantern; and, leaving the room by a secret door, he disappeared before Alfred, who was lost in thought, had noticed his absence. Not till some minutes later did young De Marcey, happening to look up, discover that he was alone in the tower. Then he reflected that the people in the château must be surprised, and perhaps anxious, at his non-return. He would have been glad to talk further with the stranger, and especially to forbid him to come again at night to the château; but the man was no longer there, and Alfred decided to leave the tower.

The whole party was assembled in Cornélie’s apartment; the ladies were anxious; Edouard desired to go in search of Alfred, Monsieur Férulus quoted divers authors who denied the existence of ghosts, and Robineau still held his razor in his hand, repeating:

"A wedding-eve! It is very cruel to fatigue oneself so at such a time, is it not, my dear bride?"

The bride did not reply, but made a slight grimace, and Robineau said to himself:

"She does not like equivocal remarks; she is chastity personified."

At last Alfred returned, and they overwhelmed him with questions.

"Was there anybody there?"

"Was it a ghost?"

"Was it a thief?"

"Was it very terrible?"

"It was nothing at all," Alfred replied; "I found the tower empty, and everything in its place. The result is, we must conclude that the light that was seen was but the reflection of the moon on the window panes."

"But there is no moon to-night, my dear fellow," said Robineau.

"No? In that case, it was anything you please; but, I assure you, mesdames, that you may sleep in peace, and that no evil spirit will come to disturb you."

They were fain to be content with what Alfred said; they noticed, however, that he was much less cheerful than before he went to the tower; but he persisted in saying that he had seen nothing, and they decided at last to return to bed,--Eudoxie complaining because she had been awakened for nothing, Cornélie looking after Alfred to make sure that he returned to his room, Alfred glancing sadly at Edouard, uncertain whether or not to tell him what he had heard from the vagabond, and Robineau brandishing his razor, as if he had sworn to shave all the ghosts in the château.