dumnonia

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

THE TOWER OF THE WHITE CHEVALIER.

THE TOWER OF THE WHITE CHEVALIER.


 “ Come on! Who cares for ghost or devil 1 ’’ There was a rush into the room, then a cry from those nearest the door. “ Take care ! The floor ! ” But it was too late. The loosened boards gave way, and down went a dozen men, Michaud among them, through a yawning gulf clear to the ground-floor.
“ Back ! back ! The tower is falling ! ” was the

cry, while the shrieks of the men below added to the confusion. The tower was at once deserted, %nd we presently heard sounds which told us that flie fallen men were being rescued from amid the ruins of the floor.
“ To the cellars ! ” cried now the voice of Pierre Le Febre. “ Let us taste the old chevalier’s wine and brandy.”
“ Good, Pierre 1 ” said Andrew. “ Once let them get among the casks and bottles and we are safe.
But it is time we were stirring. Aunt, can you walk ? ”
“ Oh, yes 1 I can do anything you wish,” answered my mother in the same calm way. She seemed to have all her wits about her, but she did not speak unless we spoke to her.
“ Come, then,” and he opened the door of the secret passage into which pussy led the way, majestically waving his tail and looking back as if to say, “Come on, and fear nothing! You are under my protection.” I went first, after I had lighted the lantern, then came my mother, and lastly Andrew.
We had just reached the level of the chapel, and were about passing the door which led into it, when Blanchon, the cat, stopped, growling fiercely. In another moment a light shone through the opened door; the next Blanchon sprang forward with his wild, unearthly yell of onset, and flung himself into the face of a man who had just put his head through the opening. There was a scream of quite another character, and the man fled stumbling and falling on his way out, while Blanchon came back to us with the loud purr which was his way of expressing complacency.
“Good cat,” said Andrew. “That man won’t find his way back in a hurry, but someone else may. Hold up the light, Vevette.”
I held up the light while Andrew pulled to the door, and with a stone smashed the spring lock.
“ Nobody will open that, even if anyone dares try,” said he. “Now for all the haste we can make.”
I caught up Blanchon and carried him, to which he made no objection. We were soon in the open air, and walking quickly down the course of the stream which had scooped out the valley, we found ourselves in the little hamlet.
It seemed to be deserted. Not a man was to be seen, nor a light save in Isabeau’s cottage. The night had grown wild and stormy, but it was not very dark, and we could see the mast of the boat, which lay at the end of the little pier.
“Now if Pierre has been true,” said Andrew, and at that moment we heard his voice.
“Monsieur and madame, is that you! All is ready; but we shall have a wild night.”
“Never mind, so long as the wind is fair,” returned Andrew in the same whisper. “ I would

THE TOWER OF THE WHITE CHEVALIER.THE TOWER OF THE WHITE CHEVALIER.
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whom my father had saved only to be murdered by him. “ Come on! Who cares for ghost or devil 1 ’’ There was a rush into the room, then a cry from those nearest the door. “ Take care ! The floor ! ” But it was too late. The loosened boards gave way, and down went a dozen men, Michaud among them, through a yawning gulf clear to the ground-floor.
“ Back ! back ! The tower is falling ! ” was the

cry, while the shrieks of the men below added to the confusion. The tower was at once deserted, %nd we presently heard sounds which told us that flie fallen men were being rescued from amid the ruins of the floor.
“ To the cellars ! ” cried now the voice of Pierre Le Febre. “ Let us taste the old chevalier’s wine and brandy.”
“ Good, Pierre 1 ” said Andrew. “ Once let them get among the casks and bottles and we are safe.
But it is time we were stirring. Aunt, can you walk ? ”
“ Oh, yes 1 I can do anything you wish,” answered my mother in the same calm way. She seemed to have all her wits about her, but she did not speak unless we spoke to her.
“ Come, then,” and he opened the door of the secret passage into which pussy led the way, majestically waving his tail and looking back as if to say, “Come on, and fear nothing! You are under my protection.” I went first, after I had lighted the lantern, then came my mother, and lastly Andrew.
We had just reached the level of the chapel, and were about passing the door which led into it, when Blanchon, the cat, stopped, growling fiercely. In another moment a light shone through the opened door; the next Blanchon sprang forward with his wild, unearthly yell of onset, and flung himself into the face of a man who had just put his head through the opening. There was a scream of quite another character, and the man fled stumbling and falling on his way out, while Blanchon came back to us with the loud purr which was his way of expressing complacency.
“Good cat,” said Andrew. “That man won’t find his way back in a hurry, but someone else may. Hold up the light, Vevette.”
I held up the light while Andrew pulled to the door, and with a stone smashed the spring lock.
“ Nobody will open that, even if anyone dares try,” said he. “Now for all the haste we can make.”
I caught up Blanchon and carried him, to which he made no objection. We were soon in the open air, and walking quickly down the course of the stream which had scooped out the valley, we found ourselves in the little hamlet.
It seemed to be deserted. Not a man was to be seen, nor a light save in Isabeau’s cottage. The night had grown wild and stormy, but it was not very dark, and we could see the mast of the boat, which lay at the end of the little pier.
“Now if Pierre has been true,” said Andrew, and at that moment we heard his voice.
“Monsieur and madame, is that you! All is ready; but we shall have a wild night.”
“Never mind, so long as the wind is fair,” returned Andrew in the same whisper. “ I would
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whom my father had saved only to be murdered by him. “ Come on! Who cares for ghost or devil 1 ’’ There was a rush into the room, then a cry from those nearest the door. “ Take care ! The floor ! ” But it was too late. The loosened boards gave way, and down went a dozen men, Michaud among them, through a yawning gulf clear to the ground-floor.
“ Back ! back ! The tower is falling ! ” was the

cry, while the shrieks of the men below added to the confusion. The tower was at once deserted, %nd we presently heard sounds which told us that flie fallen men were being rescued from amid the ruins of the floor.
“ To the cellars ! ” cried now the voice of Pierre Le Febre. “ Let us taste the old chevalier’s wine and brandy.”
“ Good, Pierre 1 ” said Andrew. “ Once let them get among the casks and bottles and we are safe.
But it is time we were stirring. Aunt, can you walk ? ”
“ Oh, yes 1 I can do anything you wish,” answered my mother in the same calm way. She seemed to have all her wits about her, but she did not speak unless we spoke to her.
“ Come, then,” and he opened the door of the secret passage into which pussy led the way, majestically waving his tail and looking back as if to say, “Come on, and fear nothing! You are under my protection.” I went first, after I had lighted the lantern, then came my mother, and lastly Andrew.
We had just reached the level of the chapel, and were about passing the door which led into it, when Blanchon, the cat, stopped, growling fiercely. In another moment a light shone through the opened door; the next Blanchon sprang forward with his wild, unearthly yell of onset, and flung himself into the face of a man who had just put his head through the opening. There was a scream of quite another character, and the man fled stumbling and falling on his way out, while Blanchon came back to us with the loud purr which was his way of expressing complacency.
“Good cat,” said Andrew. “That man won’t find his way back in a hurry, but someone else may. Hold up the light, Vevette.”
I held up the light while Andrew pulled to the door, and with a stone smashed the spring lock.
“ Nobody will open that, even if anyone dares try,” said he. “Now for all the haste we can make.”
I caught up Blanchon and carried him, to which he made no objection. We were soon in the open air, and walking quickly down the course of the stream which had scooped out the valley, we found ourselves in the little hamlet.
It seemed to be deserted. Not a man was to be seen, nor a light save in Isabeau’s cottage. The night had grown wild and stormy, but it was not very dark, and we could see the mast of the boat, which lay at the end of the little pier.
“Now if Pierre has been true,” said Andrew, and at that moment we heard his voice.
“Monsieur and madame, is that you! All is ready; but we shall have a wild night.”
“Never mind, so long as the wind is fair,” returned Andrew in the same whisper. “ I would