Archibald Malmaison Page 6

  V.

  He had for the first time been out hunting with his father and theneighboring country gentlemen in the autumn of this year, and it appearsthat on two occasions he had the brush awarded to him. At his request theheads of the two foxes were mounted for him, and he proposed to put themup on either side his fireplace.

  The wall, above and for a few inches to the right and left of themantelpiece, was bare of tapestry; the first-named place being occupied bythe portrait, while the sides were four feet up the oaken wainscot whichsurrounded the whole room behind the tapestry, and from thence to theceiling, plaster. The mantelpiece and fireplace were of a dark slatystone, and of brick, respectively.

  Archibald fixed upon what he considered the most effective positions forhis heads--just above the level of the wainscot, and near enough to themantelpiece not to be interfered with by the tapestry. He nailed up one ofthem on the left-hand side, the nails penetrating with just sufficientresistance in the firm plaster; and then, measuring carefully to thecorresponding point on the right-hand side, he proceeded to affix theother head there. But the nail, on this occasion, could not be made to goin; and on his attempting to force it with a heavier stroke of the hammer,it bent beneath the blow, and the hammer came sharply into contact withthe white surface of the wall, producing a clinking sound as from animpact on metal.

  A brief investigation now revealed the fact that a circular disk of iron,about three inches in diameter, and painted white to match the plaster,was here let into the wall. What could be the object of it? With a freshnail the boy began to scratch off the paint from the surface of the disk,in order to determine whether it were actually iron, or some other metal;in so doing a small movable lid, like the screen of a keyhole, was pushedaside, disclosing a little round aperture underneath. Archibald pushed thenail into it, thereby informing himself that the hole went straight intothe wall, for a distance greater than the length of the nail; but how muchgreater, and what was at the end of it, he could only conjecture.

  We must imagine him now standing upon a chair, with the nail in his hand,casting about in his mind for some means of probing this mysterious andunexpected hole to the bottom. At this juncture he happens to glanceupward, and meets the intent regard of his pictured ancestor, who seems tohave been silently watching him all this time, and only to be prevented byunavoidable circumstances from speaking out and telling him what to donext. And there is that constant forefinger pointing--at what? At thecavity in the floor, of course; but not of that alone; for if you observe,this same new-found hole in the wall is a third point in the straight linebetween the end of the forefinger and the hiding-place of the silver rod;furthermore, the hole is, as nearly as can be estimated without actualmeasurement, three feet distant from the forefinger, and five feet fromthe rod; the problem of three above and five below has solved itself inthe twinkling of an eye, and it only remains to act accordingly!

  Archibald sprang to the floor in no small excitement; but the first thinghe did was to see that both his doors were securely fastened. Then headvanced upon the mystery with heightened color and beating heart, hisimagination revelling in the wildest forecasts of what might be in store;and anon turning him cold with sickening apprehension lest it should proveto be nothing after all! But no--something there must be, some buriedsecret, now to live once more for him, and for him only: the secret,whereof dim legends had come down through the obscurity of two hundredyears; the secret, too, of old Sir Charles in the frame yonder, the man ofmagic repute. What could it be? Some talisman--some volume of the BlackArt perhaps--which would enable him to vanish at will into thin air, andto travel with the speed of a wish from place to place--to become averitable enchanter, endowed with all supernatural powers. With handsslightly tremulous from eagerness he pushed back the bit of plank and drewforth the silver rod; then mounted on the chair and applied it to thehole, which it fitted accurately. Before pushing it home he paused amoment.

  In all the stories he had read, the possessors of magic secrets hadacquired the same, only in exchange for something supposed to be equallyvaluable, namely, their own souls. It was not to be expected thatArchibald would be able to modify the terms of the bargain in his owncase: was he, then, prepared to pay the price? Every human being,probably, is called upon to give a more or less direct answer to thisquestion at some epoch of their lives: and were it not for curiosity andscepticism, and an unwillingness to profit by the experience of others,very likely that answer might be more often favorable to virtue than itactually is. Archibald did not hesitate long. Whether he decided todisbelieve in any danger; whether he resolved to brave it whatever itmight be; or whether, having got thus far, he had not sufficient controlover his inclinations to resist going further--at all events he drew inhis breath, set his boyish lips, and drove the silver rod into theaperture with right good will.

  It turned slowly as it entered, the curve of its spiral evidently followingthe corresponding windings of the hole. Inward it twisted like a snake,until only some two inches still projected. As the searcher afterforbidden mysteries continued to press, something seemed to give waywithin; and at the same instant an odd, shuffling sound caused him toglance sharply over his left shoulder.

  What was the matter with the mantelpiece? The whole of the right jambseemed to have started forward nearly a foot, while the left jamb hadretired by a corresponding distance into the wall; the hearth, with thefire burning upon it, remained meanwhile undisturbed. At first Archibaldimagined that the mantelpiece was going to fall, perhaps bringing down thewhole partition with it; but when he had got over the first shock ofsurprise sufficiently to make an examination, he found that the entirestructure of massive gray-stone was swung upon a concealed pivot, roundwhich it turned independently of the brickwork of the fireplace. Thesilver rod had released the spring by which the mechanism was held incheck, and an unsuspected doorway was thus revealed, opening into the verysubstance of the apparently solid wall. On getting down from his chair hehad no difficulty in pulling forward the jamb far enough to satisfyhimself that there was a cavity of unknown extent behind. And from out ofthis cavity breathed a strange dry air, like the sigh of a mummy. As forthe darkness in there, it was almost substantial as of the central chamberin the great pyramid.

  Archibald may well have had some misgivings, for he was only a boy, andthis happened more than sixty years ago, when ghosts and goblins had notcome to be considered such indefensible humbugs as they are now.Nevertheless, he was of a singularly intrepid temperament, and besides hehad passed the turning point in this adventure a few minutes ago. Nothing,therefore, would have turned him back now. Come what might of it, he wouldsee this business to an end.

  It was, however, impossible to see anything without a light; it would benecessary to fetch one of the rush candles from the table in the corridor.It was a matter of half a minute for the boy to go and return; then heedged himself through the opening, and was standing in a kind of vaultedtunnel, directly behind the fireplace, the warmth of which he could feelwhen he laid his hand on the bricks on that side. The tunnel, whichextended along the interior of the wall toward the left, was about sixfeet in height by two and a half in width. Archibald could walk in itquite easily.

  But, in the first place, he scrutinized the mechanism of the revolvingmantelpiece. It was an extremely ingenious and yet simple device, and soaccurately fitted in all its parts that, after so many years, they stillworked together almost as smoothly as when new. After Archibald had poureda little of his gun-oil into the joints of the hinges, and along thegrooves, he found that heavy stone structure would open and close asnoiselessly and easily as his own jaws. It could be opened from the insideby using the silver rod in a hole corresponding to that on the outside;and, having practised this opening and shutting until he was satisfiedthat he was thoroughly master of the process, he put the rod in hispocket, pulled the jamb gently together behind him, and, candle in hand,set forth along the tunnel.

  After walking ten paces, he came face-up against a wall lying at
rightangles to the direction in which he had been moving. Peering cautiouslyround the corner, he saw, at the end of a shallow embrasure, a ponderousdoor of dark wood, braced with iron, standing partly open, with a key inthe keyhole, as if some one had just come out, and, in his haste, hadforgotten to shut and lock the door behind him. Archibald now slowlyopened it to its full extent; it creaked as it moved, and the draught ofair made his candle flicker, and caused strange shadows to dance for amoment in the unexplored void beyond. In another breath Archibald hadcrossed the threshold and arrived at the goal of his pilgrimage.

  At first he could see very little; but there could be no doubt that he wasin a room which seemed to be of large extent, and for the existence ofwhich he could by no means account. The reader, who has been betterinformed, will already have assigned it its true place in that unexplainedregion mentioned some pages back, between the blind court and the eastchamber. Groping his way cautiously about, Archibald presently discerned aburnished sconce affixed to the wall, in which having placed his candle,the light was reflected over the room, so that the objects it containedstood dimly forth. It was a room of fair extent and considerable height,and was, apparently, furnished in a style of quaint and sombremagnificence, such as no other apartment in Malmaison could show. Thearched ceiling was supported by vast oaken beams; the floor was inlaidwith polished marbles. The walls, instead of being hung with tapestry,were painted in distemper with life-size figure subjects, representing, asfar as the boy could make out, some weird incantation scene. At one end ofthe room stood a heavy cabinet, the shelves of which were piled with goldand silver plate, richly chased, and evidently of great value. Here, infact, seemed to have been deposited many of the precious heirlooms of thefamily, which had disappeared during the Jacobite rebellions, and weresupposed to have been lost. The cabinet was made of ebony inlaid withivory, as was also a broad round table in the centre of the room. In aniche opposite the cabinet gleamed a complete suit of sixteenth centuryarmor; and so dry was the atmosphere of the apartment, that scarce a spotof rust appeared upon the polished surface, which, however, like everyother object in the room, was overlaid with fine dust. A bed, withembroidered coverlet and heavy silken curtains, stood in a deep recess tothe left of the cabinet. Upon the table lay a number of papers andparchments, some tied up in bundles, others lying about in disorder. Onewas spread open, with a pen thrown down upon it, and an antique ink-hornstanding near; and upon a stand beside the bed was a gold-enamelledsnuff-box, with its lid up, and containing, doubtless, the dusty remnantof some George II. rappee.

  At all these things Archibald gazed in thoughtful silence. This room hadbeen left, at a moment's warning, generations ago; since then this strangedry air had been breathed by no human nostrils, these various objects hadremained untouched and motionless; nothing but time had dwelt in thechamber; and yet what a change, subtle but mighty, had been wrought! Merestillness--mere absence of life--was an appalling thing, the boy thought.And why had this secret been suffered to pass into oblivion? And why hadfate selected him to discover it? And now, what use would he make of it?"At all events," said the boy to himself, "it has become my secret, andshall remain mine; and no fear but the occasion will come when I shallknow what use to make of it." He felt that meanwhile it would give himpower, security, wealth also if he should ever have occasion for it; andwith a curious sentiment of pride he saw himself thus mysticallydesignated as the true heir of Malmaison--the only one of his age andgeneration who had been permitted to stand on an equality with thosehistoric and legendary ancestors, to whom the secret of this chamber hadgiven the name and fame of wizards. Henceforth Archibald was as much awizard as they.

  Or, might there after all be a power in necromancy that he yet dreamed notof? Was it possible that even now those old enchanters held their meetingshere, and would question his right to force his way among them?

  As this thought passed through the boy's mind, he was moving slowlyforward, his eyes glancing now here, now there, when all at once the rootsof his hair were stirred with an emotion which, if not fear, was certainlyfar removed from tranquillity. From the darkest corner of the room he hadseen a human figure silently and stealthily creeping toward him. Now, ashe fixed his eyes upon it, it stopped, and seemed to return his stare. Hissenses did not deceive him; there it stood, distinctly outlined, thoughits features were indistinguishable by reason of the shadow that fell uponthem. But what living thing--living with mortal life at least--couldexist in a room that had been closed for sixty years?

  Now certainly this Archibald, who had not yet completed his fourteenthyear, possessed a valiant soul. That all his flesh yearned for instantflight does not admit of a doubt; and had he fled, this record would neverhave been written. Fly, however, he would not, but would step forwardrather, and be resolved what manner of goblin confronted him. Forward,therefore, he stepped; and behold, the goblin was but the reflection ofhimself in a tall mirror, which the obscurity and his own agitation hadprevented him from discerning. The revulsion of feeling thus occasionedwas so strong that for a moment all strength forsook the boy's knees; hestumbled and fell, and his forehead struck the corner of the ebonycabinet. He was on his feet again in a moment, but his forehead wasbleeding, and he felt strangely giddy. The candle, too, was getting nearits end; it was time to bring this first visit to a close. He took thecandle from the sconce, passed out through the door, traversed the tunnel,and thrust the silver key into the keyhole. The stone door yielded beforehim; he dropped what was left of the candle, and slipped through theopening into broad daylight. The first object his dazzled eyes rested uponwas the figure of Miss Kate Battledown. In returning from his visit to thecorridor he must have forgotten to lock the room door after him. She wasstanding with her back toward him, looking out of the window, and wasapparently making signs to some one outside.

  Noiselessly Archibald pushed the mantelpiece back into place; thanks to theoiling he had given the hinges, no sound betrayed the movement. The nextmoment Kate turned round, and seeing him, started and cried "Oh!"

  "Good-morning, Mistress Kate," said Archibald.

  "Archibald!"

  "Well?"

  "You were not here a moment ago!"

  "Well?"

  "Then how did you get here?"

  Archibald made a gesture toward the door leading to the covered stairway.

  "No--no!" said Kate; "it is locked, and the key is on this side." She hadbeen coming toward him, but now stopped and regarded him with terror inher looks.

  "What is the matter, Kate?"

  "You are all over blood, Archibald! What has happened? Are you ... oh, whatare you?" She was ready to believe him a ghost.

  "What am I?" repeated the boy, sluggishly. That odd giddiness wasincreasing, and he scarcely knew whether he were asleep or awake. Who washe, indeed? What had happened? Who was that young woman in front of him?What....

  "Archibald! Archie! Speak to me! Why do you look so strangely?"

  "Me not know oo!" said Archie, and began to cry.

  Mistress Kate turned pale, and began to back toward the door.

  "Me want my Kittie!" blubbered Archie.

  Kate stopped. "You want me?"

  "Me want my 'ittle Kittie--my 'ittle b'indled Kittie! Dey put my Kittie inde hole in de darden! Me want her to p'ay wiz!" And with this, and withthe tears streaming down his cheeks, poor Archie toddled forward with theuncertain step and outstretched arms of a little child. But Kate hadalready gained the door, and was running screaming across the next room,and so down the long corridor.

  Poor Archie toddled after, his baby heart filled with mourning for thebrindled cat that had been buried in the back garden seven years before.Seven years?--or was it only yesterday?