III.

At the northern limit of the town, some distance from the Hôtel de Ville, where the soldiers had congregated, there stood a rough story-and-a-half stone house, built probably about the middle of the last century. It was the last house on the street, and looked westward, toward the town cemetery across the way. Three windows on the north side faced a valley that descended somewhat abruptly, forming at the lower extremity a channel through which a rapid creek wound its way. So far as anybody knew the house was empty, as it had been within the memory of the oldest citizen. If it was regarded by anybody, it was as an old and useless landmark designating the northern limit of the town, and one which should have been destroyed and removed but for the fact that nobody wanted the piece of ground, much less the heap of stone. If it had an owner, no one knew who he was; but it was generally believed that the old house was a worthless something which had been left either for posterity or time to demolish. It was a dark, low, squatty structure that looked at the cemetery across the way through three small front windows, one above and two below, shaded by large eaves that time had curled and twisted out of shape. The doors were low, broad, and looked dark and heavy like iron. To the front and sides of the house clung coarse vines bearing scrofulous looking leaves that gave it an even more sinister appearance. What little wood there was had been gnawed and rotted by rain and sunshine; and the roof which once had been steep and proud lay bentand leaning. The shutters opened and closed as it pleased the wind; and the silence of the isolation was never broken save by the flutter of birds and the whining of an occasional stray dog that sheltered there.

The section of the town in which this house was situated had fallen into degeneration, and was only frequented by occasional funeral processions and mourners. who visited the graves of the departed. The cemetery was hardly more desolate than the dark and gloomy oldhouse. Thus it had lived on, almost unknown, and entirely unmolested, through the many little revolutions in the town, and the greatest revolutions in the history of man, from Louis XV. to Charles X. Now it was the year 1830.

At nightfall on this day, Doctor Satiani wandered in this direction; and when it was dark, he entered the court and rapped lightly at the side door. It was presently opened by a small, slender figure, but no light appeared, and he entered. The door was quietly closed and locked after him.

"Monsieur," said the small, dark figure, "will you descend at once?"

“Yes.”

"Will you have a light?"

"No." Feeling his way, he walked toward the wall between the room he had entered and a smaller room behind. Here he opened a door at right angles with the partition, and descended into the cellar.

Before long, some rays of light mingled with muttering, inarticulate talk and odious chemical fumes ascended from below through the cracks in the old floor.

Presently the small figure, who had gone out at the back door of the room, re-entered; and after listening for a moment with his ear to the floor, he walked to the cellar door, opened it, and said, "Monsieur."

There was no answer.

"Monsieur."

"What is it?" came from below.

"Did you call?"

"No. You must be quiet."

The small figure closed the cellar door, busied himself for a time about the room in the dark, and disappeared again through the rear door.

There was no change for several hours: the dim light, the chemical fumes, and the mysterious muttering talk continued; the small dark person did not enter again, but lay asleep on a couch in the back room; and from without, in the shadow of the starless night, the old stone house looked as dark, gloomy and lifeless as ever.

At about two o'clock the dwarfish person rolled on his bed, rubbed his eyes and sat up, for he thought that something had awakened him. He listened, but could hear nothing except his own breathing. "It must have been a bad dream," he said to himself, and lay down again, when there came to his ear unmistaken sounds that filled him with terror, that froze his thin blood, and made him shake like one facing impending death. The noises were not loud, but continuous—a mingling of heavy steps, heaving moans, and hideous giggles.

"We are caught," he thought, springing to his feet and going to the window to look out. But the night was calm and the sound came not from without. He hurried to the room above the cellar. At every step he came nearer the horrible sounds that became louder with every succeeding gasp. Someone was choking; one by one, heavy steps came thumping up the stairs; and now and then, piercing the other noises, came a shrill laugh. A heavy figure fell upon the floor, knocking him against the wall; and from the throat of the fallen came the words, in a strange voice, "I have found it," then all was silent.

"Monsieur!" cried the dwarf, going half-way down the cellar.

36 THE MYSTERY OF MADELINE LE BLANG

He almost leaped down the remaining steps, and amid suffocating odors, lighted a candle. But no one was there. The smells rendered him almost unconscious, as he made his way up the stairs. Flashing the candle into the face of the figure on the floor, he saw the pale distorted features of an unknown person—but resembling Doctor Satiani.

There was at that moment a noise in the front part of the house. The bewildered dwarf went stealthily in that direction, when he distinctly heard keys rattling in the front door. He ran noiselessly into the half-story overhead; and looking out the window, in the darkness of the night, saw a man bending over the lock.

The only night officer in the town had by accident wandered in this direction; and when before the stone house, about to turn back, he had been attracted by the strange noises. He was trying to enter the front door; but finding that impossible, he walked around the house and tried the side entrance. He succeeded in prying it open, and as he stepped noiselessly into the room, fell over the body on the floor. Lowering his lantern, he beheld the same pale and distorted visage that the dwarf (now hiding in the half-story above) had seen a few moments before. "Foul play," he said to himself; and thinking the man dead, he made a hasty search of the lower floor. He stopped at the stairs and encountered by the opinion that he would do better not to waste time, but go at once to notify the other officers, who might remove the body and then assist in making a systematic search for the perpetrator of the crime. He went half-way up the stairs, and feeling some fear creep over him, easily convinced himself that he had better notify the other officers without further delay.

In less than an hour four of them were within the court of the stone house. But when they opened the side door, the body was not there, nor anywhere to be found.