Eight Strokes of the Clock | Page 5

masterly skill. He guessed her thoughts and, turning round, said in a
serious voice:
"It's child's-play to me. I was a locksmith once."
She seized his arm and whispered:
"Listen!"
"To what?" he asked.

She increased the pressure of her hand, to demand silence. The next
moment, he murmured:
"It's really very strange."
"Listen, listen!" Hortense repeated, in bewilderment. "Can it be
possible?"
They heard, not far from where they were standing, a sharp sound, the
sound of a light tap recurring at regular intervals; and they had only to
listen attentively to recognise the ticking of a clock. Yes, it was this and
nothing else that broke the profound silence of the dark room; it was
indeed the deliberate ticking, rhythmical as the beat of a metronome,
produced by a heavy brass pendulum. That was it! And nothing could
be more impressive than the measured pulsation of this trivial
mechanism, which by some miracle, some inexplicable phenomenon,
had continued to live in the heart of the dead château.
"And yet," stammered Hortense, without daring to raise her voice, "no
one has entered the house?"
"No one."
"And it is quite impossible for that clock to have kept going for twenty
years without being wound up?"
"Quite impossible."
"Then ...?"
Serge Rénine opened the three windows and threw back the shutters.
He and Hortense were in a drawing-room, as he had thought; and the
room showed not the least sign of disorder. The chairs were in their
places. Not a piece of furniture was missing. The people who had lived
there and who had made it the most individual room in their house had
gone away leaving everything just as it was, the books which they used
to read, the knick-knacks on the tables and consoles.

Rénine examined the old grandfather's clock, contained in its tall
carved case which showed the disk of the pendulum through an oval
pane of glass. He opened the door of the clock. The weights hanging
from the cords were at their lowest point.
At that moment there was a click. The clock struck eight with a serious
note which Hortense was never to forget.
"How extraordinary!" she said.
"Extraordinary indeed," said he, "for the works are exceedingly simple
and would hardly keep going for a week."
"And do you see nothing out of the common?"
"No, nothing ... or, at least...."
He stooped and, from the back of the case, drew a metal tube which
was concealed by the weights. Holding it up to the light:
"A telescope," he said, thoughtfully. "Why did they hide it?... And they
left it drawn out to its full length.... That's odd.... What does it mean?"
The clock, as is sometimes usual, began to strike a second time,
sounding eight strokes. Rénine closed the case and continued his
inspection without putting his telescope down. A wide arch led from
the drawing-room to a smaller apartment, a sort of smoking-room. This
also was furnished, but contained a glass case for guns of which the
rack was empty. Hanging on a panel near by was a calendar with the
date of the 5th of September.
"Oh," cried Hortense, in astonishment, "the same date as to-day!...
They tore off the leaves until the 5th of September.... And this is the
anniversary! What an astonishing coincidence!"
"Astonishing," he echoed. "It's the anniversary of their departure ...
twenty years ago to-day."
"You must admit," she said, "that all this is incomprehensible.

"Yes, of course ... but, all the same ... perhaps not."
"Have you any idea?"
He waited a few seconds before replying:
"What puzzles me is this telescope hidden, dropped in that corner, at
the last moment. I wonder what it was used for.... From the
ground-floor windows you see nothing but the trees in the garden ...
and the same, I expect, from all the windows.... We are in a valley,
without the least open horizon.... To use the telescope, one would have
to go up to the top of the house.... Shall we go up?"
She did not hesitate. The mystery surrounding the whole adventure
excited her curiosity so keenly that she could think of nothing but
accompanying Rénine and assisting him in his investigations.
They went upstairs accordingly, and, on the second floor, came to a
landing where they found the spiral staircase leading to the belvedere.
At the top of this was a platform in the open air, but surrounded by a
parapet over six feet high.
"There must have been battlements which have been filled in since,"
observed Prince Rénine. "Look here, there were loop-holes at one time.
They may have been blocked."
"In any case," she said, "the telescope was of no use up here either and
we may as well go down again."
"I don't agree," he said.