I went along to Nounou.
“Nounou,” I said, “I am going to explore the oubliette this afternoon.
I think there may be something interesting under the lime-wash. “
“Like that picture you’ve been finding?”
“Something like that. There’s only a rope ladder for getting in and out, so if I should not be back in my room by four o’clock, you would know where to find me.”
Nounou nodded.
“Though she wouldn’t do it again,” she said.
“You need have no fear of that, miss.”
“No; but that’s where I shall be.”
“I’ll remember.”
I also took the precaution of mentioning where I should be to the maid who brought my lunch.
“Oh, will you, miss,” she said.
“Rather you than me.”
“You don’t like the place?”
“Well, miss. When you think of what’s gone on there. They say it’s haunted. You know that, don’t you?”
“That’s often said about such places.”
“Well, all those people … shut down there to pine away … Ugh, rather you than me.”
I touched the key beneath my skirts and thought of the pleasure I should have when I took the Comte to his oubliette and said to him: “I have found your treasure.”
I was not going to let the fear of ghosts scare me.
As I stood in that room with its trap door which was the only entry to the oubliette, watching the play of sunlight on the weapons decorating the walls, it occurred to me that the lock which would fit the key might be in this room, for those who were about to be forgotten had first passed this way.
Guns of various shapes and kinds! Were they ever used now? I knew it was the duty of one of the servants to come to this room periodically and make sure everything was well kept. I had heard it said that the servants came in twos.
If there was anything here surely it would have been discovered long ago.
As I stood there my eye caught something gleaming on the floor and I went swiftly to it.
It was a pair of scissors the kind which I had seen used for snipping off grapes which were not up to the required standard. There had been occasions when, as I had stood talking to him, I had seen Jean Pierre take such a pair of scissors from his pockets and use them on the vines.
I stooped and picked up the scissors. They were of an unusual shape.
Could there be two pairs so much alike? And if not, how had Jean Pierre’s scissors come to be here?
I slipped them into my pocket thoughtfully. Then deciding that what I sought was more likely to be in the oubliette, I took out the rope ladder, opened the trap door and descended to that place of doom where the forgotten had perished. I shivered as I relived those dreadful moments when Genevieve had pulled up the ladder and shut the trap door leaving me to experience a little of what hundreds must have felt before within these walls.
It was an eerie place, close, confined, dark, except for the light which came through the trap door.
But I had not come to let my fancies rule my common sense. Here was where the forgotten had ended their days and this was where the clue had led me. I believed that somewhere in this enclosed space was the lock which the key would open.
I examined the walls. Here was the familiar lime-wash which must have been done about eighty years ago. I tapped the wall gently to test for cavities but I could find nothing of interest. I looked about me, at the ceiling, at the flagged stone floors. I went into that aperture which Genevieve had told me was a maze. Could it be in there somewhere? The light was too poor for me to examine it well, but as I put out my hand to touch the stone pillar I could not imagine how anything could be secreted there.
I decided to make a through examination of the walls, and while I was doing this what little light there was disappeared.
I gave a little cry of horror and turned to the trap door.
Claude was looking down at me.
“Making discoveries?” she asked.
I stood looking up at her and moved towards the rope ladder. She pulled it a few inches from the ground rather playfully.
“I’m wondering whether there are any to make,” I answered.
“You know so much about ancient castles. I saw you come here and guessed what you were up to.”
I thought: She is watching me, all the time, hoping that I will make the decision to go.
I reached out to touch the ladder but laughingly she jerked it upwards.
“Don’t you feel a little alarmed down there. Mademoiselle Lawson?”
“Why should I?”
“Think of all the ghosts of dead men who have died horrible deaths cursing those who left them there to die.”
“They would have no grudge against me.”
I kept my eyes on the rope ladder which she held just out of my reach.
“You might slip and fall down there. Anything could happen. You might be a prisoner there … like those others.”
“Not for long,” I answered.
“They would come to look for me. I have told Nounou and others that I’d be here so I shouldn’t be left long.”
“You’re very practical as well as clever. Do you think you are going to find wall paintings down there?”
“In castles like this one never knows what one will find. That’s where the excitement comes in.”
“I should like to join you.” She let the ladder fall and I felt a relief as I was able to touch it.
“But I don’t think I will,” she went on.
“If you discover something you will let us know fast enough, I’m sure.”
“I shall let it be known. I’m coming up now, in any case.”
“And you’ll be investigating again?”
“Very probably, although the examination I have made today makes me think I shan’t find anything down here.”
Firmly I grasped the ladder and climbed up to the room.
Claude had made me forget my discovery in the gun room, but no sooner had I returned to my own room than I remembered the scissors in my pocket.
It was early so I decided I would take a walk to the Maison Bastide to ask if they belonged to Jean Pierre.
I found Madame Bastide alone. I showed her the scissors and asked if they were her grandson’s.
“Why, yes,” she said, ‘he’s been looking for those. “
“You’re sure they are his?”
“Undoubtedly.”
I laid them on the table.
“Where did you find them?”
“In the chateau.”
I saw the fear leap into her eyes, and in that moment the incident seemed to take on a greater significance.
“Yes, in the gun-room. I thought it was an odd place to find them.”
There was a silence while I was deeply aware of the clock on the mantelpiece ticking away the seconds.
“He lost them some weeks ago when he went to see Monsieur Ie Comte,” said Madame Bastide, but I felt she was trying to excuse Jean Pierre’s being in the chateau and to suggest that he had lost the scissors before the Comte’s departure.
We avoided looking at each other. I knew Madame Bastide was alarmed.
I couldn’t sleep very well that night. It had been a disturbing day. I wondered what Claude’s motives had been when she had followed me to the oubliette. What would have happened if I had not taken the precaution of telling Nounou and the maid that I should be there? I shivered. Did Claude want me out of the way and was she growing impatient because I was still hesitating to take the solution she had offered me?
And then finding Jean Pierre’s scissors in the gun-room had been disturbing particularly in view of Madame Basride’s reaction when I returned them.
It was small wonder that I felt restless.