the chartreuse of seillon

the traveller found the statue he sought standing in the niche at the right of the great door. he brought his horse close to the wall, and standing up in his stirrups, he reached the base of the pedestal of the statue; he slipped his hand into it, felt a ring, drew it to him, and guessed at rather than heard the tinkling of a little bell. this he repeated three times. after the third time he listened. he thought he heard a hesitating step approach the door.

"who rang?" asked a voice.

"he who comes in the name of the prophet," replied the traveller.

"what prophet?"

"he who has left his mantle to his disciples."

"what is his name?"

"elisha."

"who is the king of israel whom the children of israel must obey?"

"jehu."

"what is the house they are to exterminate?"

"that of ahab."

"are you a prophet or a disciple?"

[pg 394]

"i am a disciple, but i have come to be made a prophet."

"then welcome to the house of the lord."

scarcely had these words been uttered than the iron bars which held the door were noiselessly removed, the bolts shot as noiselessly back into their sockets, and the door opened silently, as if by magic.

the rider and his horse disappeared beneath the arch. the door closed behind them. the man who had opened it so slowly and closed it so quickly approached the new-comer as he dismounted.

the latter looked curiously at him. he was dressed in the long white robes of the carthusian monks, and his hood entirely concealed his head. he took the horse's bridle, but evidently more as a favor than as a duty. in the meantime the traveller unfastened his valise from the saddle, and drawing his pistols from their holsters, put them in his belt with the others.

the traveller glanced around him, and seeing no light and hearing no sound, he asked: "are the companions absent?"

"they have gone on an expedition," replied the brother.

"do you expect them back to-night?"

"i hope for them to-night, but i scarcely expect them before to-morrow night."

the traveller reflected for a moment. their absence seemed to disturb him.

"i cannot lodge in the town," said he; "i should be afraid of being noticed, if not recognized. can i wait here for the companions?"

"yes, if you will give me your word of honor not to attempt to go away."

"you have it."

in the meantime the robe of a second monk appeared in the shadow, growing whiter as he approached the spot where they were standing. he was doubtless a companion of a lower order, for the first one tossed the horse's bridle to him, telling him to take the horse to the stable, more in the way[pg 395] of command than of request. then, holding out his hand to the traveller, he said: "you understand why we have no lights. this monastery is supposed to be uninhabited, or at least inhabited by ghosts only; a light would betray us. take my hand and follow me."

the traveller removed his glove and took the monk's hand. it was a soft hand, evidently unused to all labors which deprive this member of its pristine, aristocratic appearance. in the circumstances in which the traveller found himself everything was of importance. he perceived at once that he had to do with a man of innate good breeding, and followed him without hesitation. after several turns in corridors that were perfectly dark, they entered a rotunda which was lighted from above. this was evidently the dining-room of the companions. it was lighted by candles placed in candelabra on the walls. a fire was burning in a large fireplace, fed by dry wood, which made little or no smoke.

the monk handed the traveller a chair, and said: "if our brother is weary, let him rest; if our brother is hungry, supper will be served him; if he wishes to sleep, he will be shown to his bed."

"i accept them all," said the traveller, stretching out his shapely and powerful limbs. "the chair because i am weary, the supper because i am hungry, the bed because i am sleepy. but with your permission, my very dear brother, we will take them in turn."

he threw his broad-brimmed hat upon the table, and passing his hand through his wavy hair, he revealed a high forehead, beautiful eyes, and a serene expression. the monk who had led the horse to the stable now entered, and in answer to his companion's questions said that he had given it fresh straw and that its manger was full of hay. then, in obedience to an order, he laid a napkin at the end of the table and placed upon it a bottle of wine, a glass, a cold chicken, a pie, a plate, a knife, and a fork.

[pg 396]

"whenever you like, my brother," said the monk, pointing to the laden table.

"at once," said the traveller. and without rising from his chair he drew up to the table.

he bravely attacked the chicken, of which he took first the leg and then the wing upon his plate. then came the pie, of which he ate a slice, while he sipped his wine. the monk, in the meantime, stood quietly a few steps behind him. the monk was not inquisitive and the traveller was hungry, so neither of them uttered a word. when the meal was finished, the traveller drew his watch from his pocket.

"two o'clock," he said; "still two hours before daylight." then, addressing the monk, he asked: "if our companions do not come to-night we need not expect them before to-morrow night, i suppose?"

"probably not," replied the monk; "save in cases of absolute necessity our companions never travel by day."

"well," said the traveller, "i will wait one of these two hours; if they have not returned by three o'clock you may show me to my room. in the meantime, if you have anything to do, do not disturb yourself about me. you belong to a silent order and i never chatter except with women. you have none here, have you?"

"no," replied the monk.

"well, then, go about your business if you have any, and leave me to my thoughts."

the monk bowed and withdrew, but before he went he placed a second bottle of wine upon the table. the guest acknowledged the attention with a bow, and mechanically continued to sip his wine and nibble his crust of pie.

"if this is the ordinary fare of our carthusians," he thought, "i do not pity them. pomard for every-day wine, a chicken (to be sure we are in the country of chickens), and snipe pie! however, there is no dessert."

the thought had hardly shaped itself in his mind when the monk, who had already served both horse and rider, entered, bearing on a dish a fine slice of sassenage cheese[pg 397] dotted with green, the invention of which, it is said, dates from the fairy melusine. without being a gourmand, the traveller, as we have seen, seemed quite able to appreciate a good supper. he did not say with brillat-savarin, "a good meal without cheese is like a woman without an eye," but doubtless he thought so.

an hour passed while he finished his wine and picked up the crumbs of the cheese with the point of his knife. the monk had left him alone, and he was consequently able to devote himself to this double occupation. he drew out his watch. it was three o'clock.

he looked for a bell but found none. he was on the point of striking his glass with his knife, when it occurred to him that this would be taking a great liberty with the good monks who had treated him so hospitably.

therefore, wishing to keep the promise he had made himself of going to bed, he laid his weapons on the table, that he might not be suspected of breaking his word, and bareheaded, with only his hunting knife at his side, he passed out into the corridor by which he had entered. half-way down he met the monk who had received him.

"brother," said the monk, "we have seen two signals announcing that the companions are approaching; they will be here in five minutes. i was just on my way to tell you."

"well," said the traveller, "let us go to meet them."

the monk made no objection. he turned back and entered the courtyard followed by the stranger. the second monk opened the double door as he had done for the traveller. the door once open, the gallop of several horses was plainly discernible.

"make room," said the monk to the traveller, drawing him aside against the wall.

at the same moment a whirlwind of men and horses swept under the arch with a noise like that of thunder.

the traveller thought for a moment that the companions were pursued, but he was mistaken.