In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince by Everett-Green (the chimp paradox txt) 📗

ghostly terrors to protect his house. Methinks we had better skirt round the house, and seek that other entrance of which we have heard. Raymond, did not our mother tell us oft a story of a revolving stone door to an underground passage, and the trick by which it might be opened from within and without? I remember well that it was by a secret spring cleverly hidden -- seven from above, three from below, those were the numbers. Can it be that it was of Basildene she was thinking all that time? It seems not unlikely. Seven from the top, three from the bottom -- those were certainly the numbers, though I cannot recollect to what they referred. Canst thou remember the story, Raymond? Dost thou think it was of Basildene she spoke?"

"Ay, verily I do!" cried the other quickly, a light coming into his face. "Why had I not thought of it before? I remember well she spoke of dark water which lay upon the outside of the house hard by the entrance to the underground way. Rememberest thou not the boat moored in the lake to carry the fugitive across to the other side, and the oars so muffled that none might hear? And did not Mistress Joan say that the secret way into Basildene was hard by the fish ponds on the west side of the house? It can be nothing else but this. Let us go seek them at once. Methinks we have in our hands the clue by which we may obtain entrance into Basildene."

Cautiously, as though their foes were at hand, the brothers slipped round the crumbling walls of the house, marking well as they did so that despite the half-ruinous aspect of much of the building, there was no ready or easy method of access. Every gap in the masonry was carefully filled up, every window that was wide enough to admit the passage of a human form was guarded by iron bars, and the doors were solid enough to defy for a long time the assault of battering rams.

"It is not in ghostly terrors he mainly trusts to guard his house," whispered Raymond, as they skirted round into the dim darkness of the dense woodland that lay behind the house. "Methinks if he had in very truth a guard of evil spirits, he would not be so careful of his bolts and bars."

Gaston was willing enough to believe this; for though he feared no human foe, he was by no means free from the superstitious terrors of the age, and it needed all his coolness of head, as well as all his confidence in the righteousness of his cause, to keep his heart from fluttering with fear as they stepped along beneath the gloom of the trees, which even when not in leaf cast dense shadows around them. It was in truth a weird spot: owls hooted dismally about them, bats flitted here and there in their erratic flight, and sometimes almost brushed the faces of the boys with their clammy wings. The strange noises always to be heard in a wood at night assailed their ears, and mingled with the quick beating of their own hearts; whilst from time to time a long unearthly wail, which seemed to proceed from the interior of the house itself, filled them with an unreasoning sense of terror that they would not confess even to themselves.

"It is like the wail of a lost spirit," whispered Raymond at the third repetition of the cry. "Brother, let us say a prayer, and go forward in the power of the Blessed Virgin and her Holy Son."

For a moment the brothers knelt in prayer, as the priest had bidden them if heart or spirit quailed.

Then rising, strengthened and supported, they looked carefully about them, and Gaston, grasping his brother by the arm, pointed through the trees and said:

"The water, the water! sure I see a gleam of moonlight upon it! We have reached the fish ponds, I verily believe! Now for the secret way to the house!"

It was true enough. A few steps brought them to the margin of a large piece of water, which was something between a lake and a series of fish ponds, such as are so often seen by old houses. Once the lake had plainly been larger, but had partially drained away, and was now confined to various levels by means of a rude dam and a sort of gate like that of a modern lock. Still the boys could trace a likeness to the lake of their mother's oft-told tale, and by instinct they both turned to the right as they reached the margin of the water, and threaded their way through the coarse and tangled sedges, decaying in the winter's cold, till they reached a spot where brushwood grew down to the very edge of the water, and the bank rose steep and high above their heads.

Gaston was a step in advance, Raymond following at his heels, both keenly eager over the quest. An exclamation from the leader soon showed that something had been discovered, and the next minute he had drawn aside the sweeping branches of a great willow, and revealed a dark opening in the bank, around which the giant roots seemed to form a protecting arch.

"This is the place," he said, in a muffled whisper. "Raymond, hast thou the wherewithal to kindle the torch?"

The boys had not come unprovided with such things as were likely to prove needful for their search, and though it was a matter of some time to obtain a light, they were skilful and well used to the process, and soon their torch was kindled and they were treading with cautious steps the intricacies of the long and tortuous passage which plainly led straight to the house.

"We never should have found it but for our mother's story," said Gaston, with exultation in his voice. "Raymond, methinks that this is the first step in our career of vengeance. We have the key to Basildene in our hands. It may be that upon another occasion we may use it with a different purpose."

It seemed to the brothers that they had walked a great distance, when their steps were arrested by what appeared in the first instance to be a solid wall of stone. Had they not had some sort of clue in their heads, they would certainly have believed that this natural tunnel ended here, and that further progress was impossible. But as it was, they were firmly convinced that this was but the door of masonry of which their mother had told them in years gone by. Neither could recollect the story save in fragments; but the numbers had clung to Gaston's tenacious memory, and now he stood before the door saying again and again -- "Seven from the top, three from the bottom" -- scanning the wall in front of him with the keenest glances all the while.

"Ha!" he exclaimed at length; "bring the torch nearer, Raymond. See here. This is not one block of stone, as seems at first, but a mass of masonry so cunningly joined together as to look like one solid piece. See, here are the joints; I can feel them with my fingernail, though I can scarce see them with my eyes. Let us count the number of the stones used. Yes; there are nine in all from top to bottom, each of the same width. Therefore the seventh from the top is the third counting from the bottom. This is the stone which is the key."

So saying, Gaston set his knee against it and pressed with all his might. Almost to his own surprise he felt it give as he did so, and Raymond uttered a short cry of astonishment: for the whole of what had looked like a solid wall revolved slowly inwards, revealing a continuation of the passage which they had been traversing so long, only that now the passage was plainly one in the interior of the house; for the walls were of masonry, and the dimensions were far more regular.

"This is the secret door," said Gaston exultingly. "It is in truth a cunning contrivance. Let me have the light here a moment, Brother. I will see what the trick of the door upon this side is."

This point was quickly settled by an inspection of the ingenious contrivance, which was one purely of balance, and not dependent either upon springs or bolts. Probably it dated back from days when these latter things were hardly known, and was so satisfactory in the working that it had never been improved upon.

"The way to Basildene is always open to us," murmured Raymond, with a quick thrill of exultation, as the brothers passed through the doorway and let it close behind them; and then they forgot all else in the excitement of the search after the woodman's miserable son.

What strange places they came upon in this underground region below the ill-famed house! Plainly these cells had been built once for prisoners; for there were fragments of rusty chains still fastened to the stone floors, and in one spot a grinning skull lying broken in a corner sent thrills of horror through the brothers' hearts. From time to time the sound of that unearthly wailing reached their ears, though it was almost impossible to divine from what direction it proceeded; and it had a far less human sound now that the boys were within the precincts of the house than had been the case when they were still outside.

Whether this was more alarming or less they hardly knew. Everything was so strange and dreamlike that they could not tell whether or not all were real. They pressed on eager to accomplish the object of their search, resolved to do that at all cost, and anxious to keep themselves from thinking or feeling too much until that object should be accomplished.

They had mounted some stairs, and had reached a different level from the underground passages, when they found their further progress barred by a strong door. This door was bolted, but from the outside, and they had no difficulty in withdrawing the heavy bolts from their sockets. When this had been done the door opened of itself, and they found themselves in a large vaulted room utterly unlike any place they had ever seen before. They grasped each other by the hand and gazed about in wonder.

"It is the magician's laboratory!" whispered Raymond, whose recent readings with John had taught him many things.

He recognized the many crucibles and the strange implements lying on the table as the things employed by dabblers in magic lore, whilst the great sullen wood and charcoal fire, which illumined the place with a dull red glow, was all in keeping with the nature of the occupations carried on there, as was the strange pungent smell that filled the air.

Rows of jars and bottles upon shelves, strange-looking mirrors and crystals, some fixed and some lying upon the tables, books and parchments full of cabalistic signs propped open beside the crucibles or hung against the wall, all gave evidence of the nature of the pursuits carried on in that unhallowed spot. The brothers, burning with curiosity as well as filled with awe, approached the tables and looked into the many vessels lying upon them, shuddering as the crimson contents made them think of blood.

Gaston put forth his hand cautiously and touched an ebony rod tipped with crystal that lay beside the largest crucible. As he did so a heavy groan seemed to arise from the very ground at his feet, and he dropped the implement with a smothered exclamation of terror. Raymond at the same moment looking hastily round the dim place, grasped his brother's arm, and pointed to a dark corner not many paces from them.

"Brother, see there! see there!" he whispered. "Sure there is the boy we have come to save!"

Gaston looked and made a quick step forward. Sure enough, there upon the floor, bound hand and foot with leather thongs that had been pulled cruelly tight, lay the emaciated figure of what had once been a handsome and healthy boy, but was now little more than a living skeleton. His face still retained its beauty of outline, though these outlines were terribly pinched and sharpened, but the expression of abject terror in the great blue eyes was pitiful to behold, and as Gaston and Raymond bent over the boy, a shrill cry, as of agony or terror, broke from his pale lips.

"Who are you?" he gasped. "How have you come? Oh, do not touch me -- do not hurt me! Go -- go quickly from this evil place, or perchance those devils will return and capture you as they have captured me, that they may torture you to death as they are torturing me. Oh, how did you come? I know the doors are locked and bolted. Are you devils in human guise, or