Part 5 (1/2)

It was a relief to find that we two were not absolutely alone in the house. I was conducted to a seat near my host in the dining-room by a liveried man-servant, while a dozen more stood around the table.

Noiselessly they moved about the s.p.a.cious apartment, apparently attending to the wants of the shadowy guests, at that long table set for a score.

The soup was brought, and placed not only before my host and myself, but in front of every empty chair. The wine was poured into every gla.s.s, and as each course was finished, so were the untouched plates removed and others brought.

It would have been nearly ludicrous, but for the deadly dreariness of the scene, the ghostly grimness of the picture, the all-pervading nervous atmosphere of the impending unknown. I gazed at the vacant seats, until I could almost fancy an ill.u.s.trious company filling them; not the witty, animated throng that he could see, but a gathering of chattering skeletons, that grinned and gibed at me over the flower-decked and silver-laden damask.

And all the while he merrily smiled and jested--smiled at this beauty whom only his eyes could see, laughed at that jest which only his ears could hear.

Nerves, I have always proudly averred, I know not, but now I caught at the table to rise and flee from the room, when he fixed his eyes upon my face, and turned confidentially towards me.

Then he raised his gla.s.s and pledged his guests. ”_A votre sante, madame_,” he murmured to me.

”_A la votre, monsieur._”

As he set down his gla.s.s he placed his long, bony finger upon my arm.

”Do you know why they're all here?” he chuckled. ”Ah, to try and steal my invention--my boat, _Le Diable_.”

Here, at last, was a gleam of sense, a sc.r.a.p of rational talk, and it came to me like cold water to the fainting.

”What boat?” I asked, and my brain seemed to quicken to life again.

”Ah! ah! what boat?” he said, with a grim chuckle; ”what boat?--_Le Diable_. You're the only innocent one here, and I will madden them all by allowing you to see it. I'll show it to her, Monsieur Vicenne,” he cried, glaring fiercely at the empty chair beside me, ”but not to you, no, not to any of you,” he almost shouted, with a sharp look right down the table.

”When?” I exclaimed, scarcely able to hide my anxiety.

”Never!” he screamed, with a flash of rage. ”You want to rob me, like the rest of them; you're all thieves!” he cried, banging his fist upon the table, till the gla.s.ses rang again, ”a crowd of hypocritical, thieving knaves,” and then as suddenly as he blazed forth he calmed down, and resumed his meal in silence, while I, perceiving that he had forgotten me, with the rest of his guests, stepped from my seat, and stole quietly from the room.

I have no shame in confessing that my self-control lasted but to the foot of the staircase, and then, like a frightened child, I caught my skirt in my hands, and flew up the stairs, and along the corridor, never halting until I was back in my room again, with the door securely locked.

To pa.s.s the night in such a house was impossible, and I unfastened the cas.e.m.e.nt windows to see if the storm had spent itself. With a vicious howl the wind tore them from my grasp and flung them back with a crash, while the hail and rain streamed in, deadening the delicate tints of the carpet. To leave was worse than to stay. I could not face such a night, and, exerting all my strength, I fastened the windows again, and turned with a nervous gasp as someone knocked upon the door.

It was only a servant with my coffee upon a silver tray, which he placed upon a fancy Oriental stand, saying that monsieur would excuse me.

He seemed inclined to say more had I permitted, but one cannot question the servants of one's host. I thanked him, and he bowed and left.

I had thought of sitting through the night, but the slight indulgence of a spoonful of cognac in my coffee restored my brain to reason, while the fatigue of my journey and the excitement of the evening had worn me to death. I munched a few wafers, for I had scarcely eaten more than the spectral guests, and then crept contentedly between the scented sheets, and it seemed but an instant before the room was bathed in suns.h.i.+ne. The night had pa.s.sed.

What a blessing is the sunlight! Sleep had completely revived me, and in more borrowed plumes I walked from my room, all intent upon my mission, and with a fixed determination that I would succeed; and then another surprise awaited me, for the dainty breakfast was only set for two, and my host courteously greeted me, and talked as a sane man upon every-day commonplaces.

Only once during the meal he relapsed, and then he leaned towards me and chuckled.

”They've all gone!” he cried; ”they come suddenly at times, and try and steal my boat, but they never see it, and then, when they realize they never will, they leave altogether. Sometimes they stay a whole week,” he continued, in a whisper, ”and threaten me all the time, until I fear I shall go mad, but last night, after you had left, I told them boldly what I thought of them, and silently, one by one, they crept away.”

”You promised me that I should see the boat?” I said, softly.

”It is a lie,” he cried, with a blaze of fury.

”Very well, it's a lie,” I answered, coldly, with simulated scorn.