Captain Fracasse | Page 5

it became apparent that this side of it
was even more neglected and ruinous than the one we have already
described; the recent poverty-stricken owners having tried to keep up
appearances as far as possible, and concentrated their efforts upon the
front of their dilapidated abode. In the stable, where were stalls for
twenty horses, a miserable, old, white pony stood at an empty manger,
nibbling disconsolately at a scanty truss of hay, and frequently turning
his sunken, lack-lustre eyes expectantly towards the door. In front of an
extensive kennel, where the lord of the manor used to keep a whole
pack of hounds, a single dog, pathetically thin, lay sleeping tranquilly
and soundly, apparently so accustomed to the unbroken solitude of the
place that he had abandoned all habits of watchfulness.
Entering the chateau the visitor found himself in a broad and lofty hall,
containing a grand old staircase, with a richly carved, wooden
balustrade--a good deal broken and defaced now, like everything else in
this doleful Castle Misery. The walls had been elaborately frescoed,
representing colossal figures of Hercules supporting brackets upon
which rested the heavily ornamented cornice. Springing from it
fantastic vines climbed upward on the arched ceiling, and above them

the blue sky, faded and dingy, was grotesquely variegated with dark
spots, caused by the water filtering through from the dilapidated roof.
Between the oft-repeated figures of Hercules were frescoed niches,
wherein heads of Roman emperors and other illustrious historical
characters had been depicted in glowing tints; but all were so vague and
dim now that they were but the ghosts of pictures, which should be
described with the shadows of words--ordinary terms are too
substantial to apply to them. The very echoes in this deserted hall
seemed startled and amazed as they repeated and multiplied the
unwonted sound of footsteps.
A door near the head of the first flight of stairs opened into what had
evidently been the great banqueting hall in the old days when
sumptuous repasts and numerous guests were not uncommon things in
the chateau. A huge beam divided the lofty ceiling into two
compartments, which were crossed at regular intervals by smaller joists,
richly carved, and retaining some traces of gilding. The spaces between
had been originally of a deep blue tint, almost lost now under the thick
coating of dust and spiders' webs that no housemaid's mop ever invaded.
Above the grand old chimney-piece was a noble stag's head, with huge,
spreading antlers, and on the walls hung rows of ancient family
portraits, so faded and mouldy now that most of the faces had a ghastly
hue, and at night, by the dim, flickering lamp-light, they looked like a
company of spectres. Nothing in the world is sadder than a collection
of old portraits hanging thus, neglected and forgotten, in deserted
halls--representations, half obliterated themselves, of forms and faces
long since returned to dust. Yet these painted phantoms were most
appropriate inhabitants of this desolate abode; real living people would
have seemed out of place in the death-stricken house.
In the middle of the room stood an immense dining-table of dark,
polished wood, much worm-eaten, and gradually falling into decay.
Two tall buffets, elaborately carved and ornamented, stood on opposite
sides of the room, with only a few odd pieces of Palissy ware,
representing lizards, crabs, and shell-fish, reposing on shiny green
leaves, and two or three delicate wine-glasses of quaint patterns
remaining upon the shelves where gold and silver plate used to glitter

in rich profusion, as was the mode in France. The handsome old chairs,
with their high, carved backs and faded velvet cushions, that had been
so firm and luxurious once, were tottering and insecure; but it mattered
little, since no one ever came to sit in them now round the festive board,
and they stood against the wall in prim order, under the rows of family
portraits.
A smaller room opened out of this one, hung round with faded,
moth-eaten tapestry. In one corner stood a large bed, with four tall,
twisted columns and long, ample curtains of rich brocade, which had
been delicate green and white, but now were of a dingy, yellowish hue,
and cut completely through from top to bottom in every fold. An ebony
table, with some pretty gilded ornaments still clinging to it, a mirror
dim with age, and two large arm-chairs, covered with worn and faded
embroidery, that had been wrought by the fair fingers of some noble
dame long since dead and forgotten, completed the furniture of this
dismal chamber.
In these two rooms were the latticed windows seen in the front of the
chateau, and over them still hung long sweeping curtains, so tattered
and moth-eaten that they were almost falling to pieces. Profound
silence reigned here, unbroken save by