CHAPTER XV. THE STRONG-MINDED MAN
At ten o'clock everyone was in bed at the Chateau des Noires-Fontaines,or, at any rate, all had retired to their rooms.
Three or four times in the course of the evening Amelie had approachedRoland as if she had something to say to him; but each time the wordsdied upon her lips. When the family left the salon, she had takenhis arm, and, although his room was on the floor above hers, she hadaccompanied him to his very door. Roland had kissed her, bade hergood-night, and closed his door, declaring himself very tired.
Nevertheless, in spite of this assertion, Roland, once alone, did notproceed to undress. He went to his collection of arms, selected a pairof magnificent pistols, manufactured at Versailles, and presented tohis father by the Convention. He snapped the triggers, and blew intothe barrels to see that there were no old charges in them. They were inexcellent condition. After which he laid them side by side on the table;then going to the door, looking out upon the stairs, he opened it softlyto see if any one were watching. Finding the corridor and stairs empty,he went to Sir John's door and knocked.
"Come in," said the Englishman. Sir John, like himself, was not preparedfor bed.
"I guessed from the sign you made me that you had something to say tome," said Sir John, "so I waited for you, as you see."
"Indeed, I have something to say to you," returned Roland, seatinghimself gayly in an armchair.
"My kind host," replied the Englishman, "I am beginning to understandyou. When I see you as gay as you are now, I am like your peasants, Ifeel afraid."
"Did you hear what they were saying?"
"I heard them tell a splendid ghost story. I, myself, have a hauntedcastle in England."
"Have you ever seen the ghosts, my lord?"
"Yes, when I was little. Unfortunately, since I have grown up they havedisappeared."
"That's always the way with ghosts," said Roland gayly; "they come andgo. How lucky it is that I should return just as the ghosts have begunto haunt the Chartreuse of Seillon."
"Yes," replied Sir John, "very lucky. Only are you sure that there areany there?"
"No. But I'll know by the day after to-morrow."
"How so?"
"I intend to spend to-morrow night there."
"Oh!" said the Englishmen, "would you like to have me go with you?"
"With pleasure, my lord. Only, unfortunately, that is impossible."
"Impossible, oh!"
"As I have just told you, my dear fellow."
"But why impossible?"
"Are you acquainted with the manners and customs of ghosts, Sir John?"asked Roland gravely.
"No."
"Well, I am. Ghosts only show themselves under certain conditions."
"Explain that."
"Well, for example, in Italy, my lord, and in Spain, the mostsuperstitious of countries, there are no ghosts, or if there are,why, at the best, it's only once in ten or twenty years, or maybe in acentury."
"And to what do you attribute their absence?"
"To the absence of fogs."
"Ah! ah!"
"Not a doubt of it. You understand the native atmosphere of ghosts isfog. Scotland, Denmark and England, regions of fog, are overrun withghosts. There's the spectre of Hamlet, then that of Banquo, the shadowsof Richard III. Italy has only one spectre, Caesar, and then where did heappear to Brutus? At Philippi, in Macedonia and in Thessaly, the Denmarkof Greece, the Scotland of the Orient; where the fog made Ovid somelancholy he named the odes he wrote there Tristia. Why did Virgil makethe ghost of Anchises appear to Eneas? Because he came from Mantua.Do you know Mantua? A marsh, a frog-pond, a regular manufactoryof rheumatism, an atmosphere of vapors, and consequently a nest ofphantoms."
"Go on, I'm listening to you."
"Have you seen the Rhine?"
"Yes."
"Germany, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Still another country of fairies, water sprites, sylphs, andconsequently phantoms ('for whoso does the greater see, can see theless'), and all that on account of the fog. But where the devil canthe ghosts hide in Italy and Spain? Not the least bit of mist. And,therefore, were I in Spain or Italy I should never attempt to-morrow'sadventure."
"But all that doesn't explain why you refuse my company," insisted SirJohn.
"Wait a moment. I've just explained to you that ghosts don't ventureinto certain countries, because they do not offer certain atmosphericconditions. Now, let me explain the precautions we must take if we wishto see them."
"Explain! explain!" said Sir John, "I would rather hear you talk thanany other man, Roland."
And Sir John, stretching himself out in his easy-chair, prepared tolisten with delight to the improvisations of this fantastic mind,which he had seen under so many aspects during the few days of theiracquaintance.
Roland bowed his head by way of thanks.
"Well, this is the way of it, and you will grasp it readily enough. Ihave heard so much about ghosts in my life that I know the scamps as ifI had made them. Why do ghosts appear?"
"Are you asking me that?" inquired Sir John.
"Yes, I ask you."
"I own that, not having studied ghosts as you have, I am unable to giveyou a definitive answer."
"You see! Ghosts show themselves, my dear fellow, in order to frightenthose who see them."
"That is undeniable."
"Of course! Now, if they don't frighten those to whom they appear, theyare frightened by them; witness M. de Turenne, whose ghosts proved to becounterfeiters. Do you know that story?"
"No."
"I'll tell it to you some day; don't let's get mixed up. That is justwhy, when they decide to appear--which is seldom--ghosts select stormynights, when it thunders, lightens and blows; that's their scenery."
"I am forced to admit that nothing could be more correct."
"Wait a moment! There are instances when the bravest man feels a shudderrun through his veins. Even before I was suffering with this aneurism ithas happened to me a dozen times, when I have seen the flash of sabresand heard the thunder of cannon around me. It is true that since I havebeen subject to this aneurism I rush where the lightning flashes and thethunder growls. Still there is the chance that these ghosts don't knowthis and believe that I can be frightened."
"Whereas that is an impossibility, isn't it?" asked Sir John.
"What will you! When, right or wrong, one feels that, far from dreadingdeath, one has every reason to seek it, what should he fear? But Irepeat, these ghosts, who know so much, may not know that only ghostsknow this; they know that the sense of fear increases or diminishesaccording to the seeing and hearing of exterior things. Thus, forexample, where do phantoms prefer to appear? In dark places, cemeteries,old cloisters, ruins, subterranean passages, because the aspect of theselocalities predisposes the soul to fear. What precedes their appearance?The rattling of chains, groans, sighs, because there is nothing verycheerful in all that? They are careful not to appear in the brightlight, or after a strain of dance music. No, fear is an abyss into whichyou descend step by step, until you are overcome by vertigo; your feetslip, and you plunge with closed eyes to the bottom of the precipice.Now, if you read the accounts of all these apparitions, you'll find theyall proceed like this: First the sky darkens, the thunder growls, thewind howls, doors and windows rattle, the lamp--if there is a lampin the room of the person the ghosts are trying to frighten--the lampflares, flickers and goes out--utter darkness! Then, in the darkness,groans, wails and the rattling of chains are heard; then, at last, thedoor opens and the ghost appears. I must say that all the apparitionsthat I have not seen but read about have presented themselves undersimilar circumstances. Isn't that so, Sir John?"
"Perfectly."
"And did you ever hear of a ghost appearing to two persons at the sametime?"
"I certainly never did hear of it."
"It's quite simple, my dear fellow. Two together, you understand, haveno fear. Fear is something mysterious, strange, inde
pendent of the will,requiring isolation, darkness and solitude. A ghost is no more dangerousthan a cannon ball. Well, a soldier never fears a cannon ball in thedaytime, when his elbows touch a comrade to the right and left. No, hegoes straight for the battery and is either killed or he kills. That'snot what the phantoms want. That's why they never appear to two personsat the same time, and that is the reason I want to go to the Chartreusealone, my lord. Your presence would prevent the boldest ghost fromappearing. If I see nothing, or if I see something worth the trouble,you can have your turn the next day. Does the bargain suit you?"
"Perfectly! But why can't I take the first night?"
"Ah! first, because the idea didn't occur to you, and it is only justthat I should benefit by my own cleverness. Besides, I belong to theregion; I was friendly with the good monks in their lifetime, and theremay be a chance of their appearing to me after death. Moreover, as Iknow the localities, if it becomes necessary to run away or pursue Ican do it better than you. Don't you see the justice of that, my dearfellow?"
"Yes, it couldn't be fairer; but I am sure of going the next night."
"The next night, and the one after, and every day and night if youwish; I only hold to the first. Now," continued Roland rising, "this isbetween ourselves, isn't it? Not a word to any one. The ghosts might beforewarned and act accordingly. It would never do to let those gay dogsget the best of us; that would be too grotesque."
"Oh, be easy about that. You will go armed, won't you?"
"If I thought I was only dealing with ghosts, I'd go with my hands inmy pockets and nothing in my fobs. But, as I told you, M. de Turenne'sghosts were counterfeiters, so I shall take my pistols."
"Do you want mine?"
"No, thanks. Though yours are good, I am about resolved never to usethem again." Then, with a smile whose bitterness it would be impossibleto describe, he added: "They brought me ill-luck. Good-night! Sir John.I must sleep soundly to-night, so as not to want to sleep to-morrownight."
Then, shaking the Englishman's hand vigorously a second time, he leftthe room and returned to his own. There he was greatly surprised to findthe door, which he was sure he had left closed, open. But as soon as heentered, the sight of his sister explained the matter to him.
"Hello!" he exclaimed, partly astonished, partly uneasy; "is that you,Amelie?"
"Yes, it is I," she said. Then, going close to her brother, and lettinghim kiss her forehead, she added in a supplicating voice: "You won't go,will you, dear Roland?"
"Go where?" asked Roland.
"To the Chartreuse."
"Good! Who told you that?"
"Oh! for one who knows, how difficult it is to guess!"
"And why don't you want me to go to the Chartreuse?"
"I'm afraid something might happen to you."
"What! So you believe in ghosts, do you?" he asked, looking fixedly intoAmelie's eyes.
Amelie lowered her glance, and Roland felt his sister's hand tremble inhis.
"Come," said Roland; "Amelie, at least the one I used to know, Generalde Montrevel's daughter and Roland's sister, is too intelligent to yieldto these vulgar terrors. It's impossible that you can believe thesetales of apparitions, chains, flames, spectres, and phantoms."
"If I did believe them, Roland, I should not be so alarmed. If ghosts doexist, they must be souls without bodies, and consequently cannot bringtheir material hatred from the grave. Besides, why should a ghost hateyou, Roland; you, who never harmed any one?"
"Good! You forget all those I have killed in war or in duels."
Amelie shook her head. "I'm not afraid of them."
"Then what are you afraid of?"
The young girl raised her beautiful eyes, wet with tears, to Roland, andthrew herself in his arms, saying: "I don't know, Roland. But I can'thelp it, I am afraid."
The young man raised her head, which she was hiding in his breast, withgentle force, and said, kissing her eyelids softly and tenderly: "Youdon't believe I shall have ghosts to fight with to-morrow, do you?"
"Oh, brother, don't go to the Chartreuse!" cried Amelie, eluding thequestion.
"Mother told you to say this to me, didn't she?"
"Oh, no, brother! Mother said nothing to me. It is I who guessed thatyou intended to go."
"Well, if I want to go," replied Roland firmly, "you ought to know,Amelie, that I shall go."
"Even if I beseech you on my knees, brother?" cried Amelie in a tone ofanguish, slipping down to her brother's feet; "even if I beseech you onmy knees?"
"Oh! women! women!" murmured Roland, "inexplicable creatures, whosewords are all mystery, whose lips never tell the real secrets of theirhearts, who weep, and pray, and tremble--why? God knows, but man, never!I shall go, Amelie, because I have resolved to go; and when once I havetaken a resolution no power on earth can make me change it. Now kiss meand don't be frightened, and I will tell you a secret."
Amelie raised her head, and gazed questioningly, despairingly, atRoland.
"I have known for more than a year," replied the young man, "that I havethe misfortune not to be able to die. So reassure yourself, and don't beafraid."
Roland uttered these words so dolefully that Amelie, who had, untilthen, kept her emotion under control, left the room sobbing.
The young officer, after assuring himself that her door was closed, shuthis, murmuring: "We'll see who will weary first, Fate or I."