The Evil Chateau

Matamata Record, Volume XVI, Issue 1442, 17 July 1933, Page 3

The Evil Chateau

By SYDNEY HORLER.

Pulling the curtain carefully aside, and keeping her body covered as much as was possible by the way, she looked out. This room must be at the back of the Chateau, for there was no trace of any carriage-drive. There was a large strip of ground that might have served an English home for a tennis-lawn, with what looked like a big outhouse at the end. That was the full extent of her view. But for a brilliant full moon she would not have been able to see as much. There had been a purpose behind her host’s solicitude. He had wanted her to get to bed early. The Count de la Siagne was receiving visitors. Quite a number of visitors. With intervals of roughly ten minutes be r tween, she heard three other cars drive up. The Count must have called a Conference. Could these be the plotters Sir Godfrey Barringer had mentioned in his coded message? She ought to be present at that meeting. The risk, of course, would be enormous, because as yet she had had no opportunity of becoming familiar with the run of the Chateau, and if she lost her way and was discovered, what possible excuse could she have unless she feigned to be walking in her sleep? But the temptation to see these midnight conspirators—for such she had no doubt they were —was irresistible. Instead of getting back into bed, she put on a dressing gown, which she fastened tightly about her, thrust the small;automatic in to the right hand pocket and stepped quietly across the floor.

Just as her hand was about to turn the key, Felicity stopped. She had been anticipated There were at least two people on the other side of the door and they were whispering together. So eerie did those subtly-hushed voices sound that she shuddered. They suspected that she might not be asleep —perhaps that she might even attempt to spy on them. She dropped to her knees and placed an ear against the keyhole. And, in this position, she was able to catch a few words:

*\“Wait . . signal ~ . ■ morning.” '' After that followed the sound of footsteps dying away. One of the men —she believed it was a man’s voice she had heard —had gone. Leaving the

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other on guard. From the three words she had been able to catch, the inference was that the man who had spoken had ordered the other to wait outside the door until he received a signal, which might not be until the morning.

An all-night sitting of the Enemy whilst she was kept a prisoner . . . There could be no doubt about it. A man was outside. She could hear him swearing softly to himself in Italian. A scraping sound preceded an unmistakeable odour; the guard was beguiling his vigil by smoking. The position was exasperating, almost beyond endurance, but it required patience. To act precipitately now would be to lose everything. The man outside would be armed, and at the slightest suspicious sound, he would shoot; he had probably received very definite orders on this point. Not only the Count, but his associ-' ates without doubt, knew now that a suspected spy was on the premises. Anything might happen. It was possible that passion would over-ride every other feeling that night. In that case, they might decide to come and seize her. A clean death would be the least' of the evils which would follow.

She must not think of that; she dared not think of it. It was vitally important that she should keep her head. But instinct made her cross to the window after rising from her knees, and pull the curtain aside so that she might look out upon the outside world which represented freedom. As she did so, her whole body stiffened in terror. Peering at her was Something which turned her mind sick with dreadful fear. CHAPTER XVII. —KRANCx. For a second only this terrible spectre confronted her and then, with what sounded a gibberish cry, it was gone —clean down the side of the Chateau wall. The vision came and went so quickly that she could not be sure whether the Thing had been man or beast. It must have been one or the other, for her imagination could not have conjured up such a horror. It had a face so incredibly bestial, that the mind revolted —a huge mouth, unbelievably monstrous, and evil,'beady, peering eyes set in a thicket of hair. Only that resolutely-trained, light-

I ning sense of self-preservation saved her from calling out. If she had not been aware of the watcher on the other side of the door, she would have been obliged to scream; as it was, she leaned against the wall spent and gasping. For the moment every nerve was a quivering rawness. Reaction came after a time. Whatever it was that had looked in on her she would discover to-morrow. Knowledge would lessen the sense of dread.

Perhaps it was due to sheer nerve exhaustion, but she slept after a while, and her waking thought was one of beauty and not of terror; the sun was shining into the room and, listening, she heard a tapping on the door. For i a moment she hesitated, and then, getting out of bed and turning the key, she saw the maid Xandra standing outside holding a tea-tray. “Mademoiselle has slept well?” the girl inquired. Her voice was gentle. There was a kindly look in her sad eyes. More strongly than before, Felicity felt that she could rely on this maid’s help—if only Xandra’s courage did not fail at the critical moment. “So soundly did I sleep, Xandra, that you may have knocked more than once perhaps?” “Yes—l knocked three times. The Count presents his compliments, Mademoiselle, and says it is a glorious morning to see the country.” i “I must get up' quickly, then.” “I will turn on Mademoiselle’s bath.” As she sat up in bed drinking the really good tea, Felicity felt as though the Hand of God had moved to banish all the dark things of the preceding night. She had not dreamt those horrors ? Much as she would have liked to believe so, she knew that this was not the truth. The low whisperings and the face at the window had been real. She bathed and dressed quickly. Xandra returned when she was ready. “Monsieur le Comte is expecting Mademoiselle,” w T as the explanation. Dressed in immaculate white flannels, her host presented an agreeable figure as he bent to kiss her hand. “You look as radiant as the morning, my dear I,T iss Howard, and no compliment could be more deserved. I need scarcely ask if you slept well?” “So well that Xandra had the utmost difficulty in awakening me. But now let me see this domain of yours.” “With pleasure. We will go on the balcony. Permit me.” He led the way through the room in which they had dined the night before to a wide, flagged balcony. The portion of the Chateau to which this belonged she saw was built upon a rock at least sixty feet high.

(To be Continued.)