VI. Chateau de la Tour

by Louisa May Alcott

　　Helen looked serious and Amy indignant when their uncle joined them,ready to set out by the afternoon train, all having dined and restedafter the morning's excursion."Well, little girls, what's the matter now?" he asked, paternally, forthe excellent man adored his nieces."Helen says it's not best to go on with the Pole, and is perfectlynonsensical, uncle," began Amy, petulantly, and not very coherently."Better be silly now than sorry by and by. I only suggested that,being interesting, and Amy romantic, she might find this young man toocharming, if we see too much of him," said Helen."Bless my soul, what an idea!" cried the major. "Why, Nell, he's aninvalid, a Catholic, and a foreigner, any one of which objections areenough to settle that matter. Little Amy isn't so foolish as to be indanger of losing her heart to a person so entirely out of the questionas this poor lad, is she?""Of course not. You do me justice, uncle. Nell thinks she may pityand pet any one she likes because she is five years older than I,and entirely forgets that she is a great deal more attractive than afeeble thing like me. I should as soon think of losing my heart toHoffman as to the Pole, even if he wasn't what he is. One may surelybe kind to a dying man, without being accused of coquetry;" and Amysobbed in the most heart-rending manner.Helen comforted her by withdrawing all objections, and promisingto leave the matter in the major's hands. But she shook her headprivately when she saw the ill-disguised eagerness with which hercousin glanced up and down the platform after they were in the train,and she whispered to her uncle, unobserved,--"Leave future meetings to chance, and don't ask the Pole in, if youcan help it.""Nonsense, my dear. You are as particular as your aunt. The lad amusesme, and you can't deny you like to nurse sick heroes," was all theanswer she got, as the major, with true masculine perversity, put hishead out of the window and hailed Casimer as he was passing with abow."Here, Teblinski, my good fellow, don't desert us. We've always aspare seat for you, if you haven't pleasanter quarters."With a flush of pleasure the young man came up, but hesitated toaccept the invitation till Helen seconded it with a smile of welcome.Amy was in an injured mood, and, shrouded in a great blue veil,pensively reclined in her corner as if indifferent to everything abouther. But soon the cloud passed, and she emerged in a radiant state ofgood humor, which lasted unbroken until the journey ended.For two days they went on together, a very happy party, for the majorcalled in Hoffman to see his friend and describe the places throughwhich they passed. An arrangement very agreeable to all, as Karl was afavorite, and every one missed him when away.At Lausanne they waited while he crossed the lake to secure rooms atVevay. On his return he reported that all the hotels and pensionswere full, but that at La Tour he had secured rooms for a few weeks ina quaint old chateau on the banks of the lake."Count Severin is absent in Egypt, and the housekeeper has permissionto let the apartments to transient visitors. The suite of rooms Ispeak of were engaged to a party who are detained by sickness--theyare cheap, pleasant, and comfortable. A salon and four bed-rooms. Iengaged them all, thinking that Teblinski might like a room there tillhe finds lodgings at Montreaux. We can enter at once, and I am surethe ladies will approve of the picturesque place.""Well done, Hoffman; off we go without delay, for I really long torest my old bones in something like a home, after this long trip,"said the major, who always kept his little troop in light marchingorder.The sail across that loveliest of lakes prepared the new-comers to becharmed with all they saw; and when, entering by the old stone gate,they were led into a large saloon, quaintly furnished and opening intoa terrace-garden overhanging the water, with Chillon and the Alps insight, Amy declared nothing could be more perfect, and Helen's faceproved her satisfaction.An English widow and two quiet old German professors on a vacationwere the only inmates besides themselves and the buxom Swisshousekeeper and her maids.It was late when our party arrived, and there was only time for ahasty survey of their rooms and a stroll in the garden before dinner.The great chamber, with its shadowy bed, dark mirrors, ghostlywainscot-doors and narrow windows, had not been brightened for a longtime by such a charming little apparition as Amy when she shook outher airy muslins, smoothed her curls, and assumed all manner ofdistracting devices for the captivation of mankind. Even Helen, thoughnot much given to personal vanity, found herself putting flowers inher hair, and studying the effect of bracelets on her handsome arms,as if there was some especial need of looking her best on thisoccasion.Both were certainly great ornaments to the drawing-room that evening,as the old professors agreed while they sat blinking at them, like apair of benign owls. Casimer surprised them by his skill in music,for, though forbidden to sing on account of his weak lungs, heplayed as if inspired. Amy hovered about him like a moth; the majorcultivated the acquaintance of the plump widow; and Helen stood at thewindow, enjoying the lovely night and music, till something happenedwhich destroyed her pleasure in both.The window was open, and, leaning from it, she was watching the lake,when the sound of a heavy sigh caught her ear. There was no moon, butthrough the starlight she saw a man's figure among the shrubs below,sitting with bent head and hidden face in the forlorn attitude of oneshut out from the music, light, and gayety that reigned within."It is Karl," she thought, and was about to speak, when, as ifstartled by some sound she did not hear, he rose and vanished in thegloom of the garden."Poor man! he thought of his wife and child, perhaps, sitting herealone while all the rest make merry, with no care for him. Uncle mustsee to this;" and Helen fell into a reverie till Amy came to proposeretiring."I meant to have seen where all these doors led, but was so busydressing I had no time, so must leave it for my amusement to-morrow.Uncle says it's a very Radcliffian place. How like an angel that mandid play!" chattered Amy, and lulled herself to sleep by humming thelast air Casimer had given them.Helen could not sleep, for the lonely figure in the garden hauntedher, and she wearied herself with conjectures about Hoffman and hismystery. Hour after hour rung from the cuckoo-clock in the hall, butstill she lay awake, watching the curious shadows in the room, andexciting herself with recalling the tales of German goblins with whichthe courier had amused them the day before."It is close and musty here, with all this old tapestry and stuffabout; I'll open the other window," she thought; and, noiselesslyslipping from Amy's side, she threw on wrapper and slippers, lightedher candle and tried to unbolt the tall, diamond-paned lattice. It wasrusty and would not yield, and, giving it up, she glanced about to seewhence air could be admitted. There were four doors in the room, alllow and arched, with clumsy locks and heavy handles. One opened intoa closet, one into the passage; the third was locked, but the fourthopened easily, and, lifting her light, she peeped into a small octagonroom, full of all manner of curiosities. What they were she had notime to see, for her startled eyes were riveted on an object thatturned her faint and cold with terror.A heavy table stood in the middle of the room, and seated at it,with some kind of weapon before him, was a man who looked over hisshoulder, with a ghastly face half hidden by hair and beard, andfierce black eyes as full of malignant menace as was the clinched handholding the pistol. One instant Helen looked, the next flung to thedoor, bolted it and dropped into a chair, trembling in every limb. Thenoise did not wake Amy, and a moment's thought showed Helen the wisdomof keeping her in ignorance of this affair. She knew the major wasclose by, and possessing much courage, she resolved to wait a littlebefore rousing the house.Hardly had she collected herself, when steps were heard moving softlyin the octagon room. Her light had gone out as she closed the door,and sitting close by in the dark, she heard the sound of some onebreathing as he listened at the key-hole. Then a careful hand triedthe door, so noiselessly that no sleeper would have been awakened; andas if to guard against a second surprise, the unknown person drew twobolts across the door and stole away."Safe for a time; but I'll not pass another night under this roof,unless this is satisfactorily cleared up," thought Helen, now feelingmore angry than frightened.The last hour that struck was three, and soon the summer dawn reddenedthe sky. Dressing herself, Helen sat by Amy, a sleepless guard, tillshe woke, smiling and rosy as a child. Saying nothing of her lastnight's alarm, Helen went down to breakfast a little paler than usual,but otherwise unchanged. The major never liked to be disturbed tillhe had broken his fast, and the moment they rose from the table heexclaimed,--"Now, girls, come and see the mysteries of Udolpho.""I'll say nothing, yet," thought Helen, feeling braver by daylight,yet troubled by her secret, for Hoffman might be a traitor, and thischarming chateau a den of thieves. Such things had been, and she wasin a mood to believe anything.The upper story was a perfect museum of antique relics, veryentertaining to examine. Having finished these, Hoffman, who acted asguide, led them into a little gloomy room containing a straw pallet,a stone table with a loaf and pitcher on it, and, kneeling before acrucifix, where the light from a single slit in the wall fell on him,was the figure of a monk. The waxen mask was life-like, the attitudeeffective, and the cell excellently arranged. Amy cried out when shefirst saw it, but a second glance reassured her, and she patted thebald head approvingly, as Karl explained.--"Count Severin is an antiquarian, and amuses himself with things ofthis sort. In old times there really was a hermit here, and this ishis effigy. Come down these narrow stairs, if you please, and see therest of the mummery."Down they went, and the instant Helen looked about her, she burst intoa hysterical laugh, for there sat her ruffian, exactly as she saw him,glaring over his shoulder with threatening eyes, and one hand on thepistol. They all looked at her, for she was pale, and her merrimentunnatural; so, feeling she had excited curiosity, she gratified it bynarrating her night's adventure. Hoffman looked much concerned."Pardon, mademoiselle, the door should have been bolted on thisside. It usually is, but that room being unused, it was forgotten. Iremembered it, and having risen early, crept up to make sure that youdid not come upon this ugly thing unexpectedly. But I was too late, itseems; you have suffered, to my sorrow.""Dear Nell, and that was why I found you so pale and cold and quiet,sitting by me when I woke, guarding me faithfully as you promised youwould. How brave and kind you were!""Villain! I should much like to fire your own pistols at you for thisprank of yours."And Casimer laughingly filliped the image on its absurdly aquilinenose."What in the name of common sense is this goblin here for?" demandedthe major, testily."There is a legend that once the owner of the chateau amused himselfby decoying travellers here, putting them to sleep in that room, andby various devices alluring them thither. Here, one step beyond thethreshold of the door, was a trap, down which the unfortunates wereprecipitated to the dungeon at the bottom of the tower, there to dieand be cast into the lake through a water-gate, still to be seen.Severin keeps this flattering likeness of the rascal, as he doesthe monk above, to amuse visitors by daylight, not at night,mademoiselle."And Hoffman looked wrathfully at the image, as if he would much enjoysending it down the trap."How ridiculous! I shall not go about this place alone, for fear oflighting upon some horror of this sort. I've had enough; come awayinto the garden; it's full of roses, and we may have as many as welike."As she spoke Amy involuntarily put out her hand for Casimer to leadher down the steep stone steps, and he pressed the little hand with atender look which caused it to be hastily withdrawn."Here are your roses. Pretty flower; I know its meaning in English,for it is the same with us. To give a bud to a lady is to confessthe beginning of love, a half open one tells of its growth, and afull-blown one is to declare one's passion. Do you have that custom inyour land, mademoiselle?"He had gathered the three as he spoke, and held the bud separatelywhile looking at his companion wistfully."No, we are not poetical, like your people, but it is a pretty fancy,"and Amy settled her bouquet with an absorbed expression, thoughinwardly wondering what he would do with his flowers.He stood silent a moment, with a sudden flush sweeping across hisface, then flung all three into the lake with a gesture that made thegirl start, and muttered between his teeth:"No, no; for me it is too late."She affected not to hear, but making up a second bouquet, she gaveit to him, with no touch of coquetry in compassionate eyes or gentlevoice."Make your room bright with these. When one is ill nothing is socheering as the sight of flowers."Meantime the others had descended and gone their separate ways.As Karl crossed the courtyard a little child ran to meet him withoutstretched arms and a shout of satisfaction. He caught it up andcarried it away on his shoulder, like one used to caress and becaressed by children.Helen, waiting at the door of the tower while the major dusted hiscoat, saw this, and said, suddenly, directing his attention to man andchild,--"He seems fond of little people. I wonder if he has any of his own.""Hoffman? No, my dear; he's not married; I asked him that when Iengaged him.""And he said he was not?""Yes; he's not more than five or six-and-twenty, and fond of awandering life, so what should he want of a wife and a flock ofbantlings?""He seems sad and sober sometimes, and I fancied he might have somedomestic trouble to harass him. Don't you think there is somethingpeculiar about him?" asked Helen, remembering Hoffman's hint that heruncle knew his wish to travel incognito, and wondering if he wouldthrow any light upon the matter. But the major's face was impenetrableand his answer unsatisfactory."Well, I don't know. Every one has some worry or other, and as forbeing peculiar, all foreigners seem more or less so to us, they are sounreserved and demonstrative. I like Hoffman more and more every day,and shall be sorry when I part with him.""Ludmilla is his sister, then, or he didn't tell uncle the truth. Itis no concern of mine; but I wish I knew," thought Helen anxiously,and then wondered why she should care.A feeling of distrust had taken possession of her and she determinedto be on the watch, for the unsuspicious major would be easily duped,and Helen trusted more to her own quick and keen eye than to hisexperience. She tried to show nothing of the change in her manner: butHoffman perceived it, and bore it with a proud patience which oftentouched her heart, but never altered her purpose.