The Argosy | Page 9

the position of the place to which he was being led.
After several minutes spent thus in silent perambulation of the old
house, they halted for a moment while Platzoff unlocked a door, after
which they passed forward into a room, in the middle of which Ducie
was left standing while Platzoff relocked the door, and then busied
himself for a minute in trimming the lamp he had brought with him,
which had been his only guide through the dark and silent house, for
the servants had all gone to bed more than an hour ago.
Ducie, thus left to himself for a little while, had time for reflection. The
floor on which he was standing was covered with a thick, soft carpet,
consequently he was in one of the best rooms in the house. The
atmosphere of this room was penetrated with a very faint aroma of
pot-pourri, so faint that unless Captain Ducie's nose had been more than
ordinarily keen he would never have perceived it. To the best of his
knowledge there was only one room in Bon Repos that was permeated
with the peculiar scent of pot-pourri. That room was M. Platzoff's
private study, to which access was obtained through his bed-room.
Ducie had been only twice into this room, but he remembered two facts
in connection with it. First, the scent already spoken of; secondly, that
besides the door which opened into it from the bed-room, there was
another door which he had noticed as being shut and locked both times
that he was there. If the room in which they now were was really M.
Platzoff's study, they had probably obtained access to it through the
second door.
While silently revolving these thoughts in his mind, Captain Ducie's
fingers were busy with the formation of two tiny paper pellets, each no
bigger than a pea. Unseen by Platzoff, he contrived to drop these pellets
on the carpet.
"I must really apologise," said the Russian, next moment, "for keeping
you waiting so long; but this lamp will not burn properly."
"Don't hurry yourself on my account," said Ducie. "I am quite jolly. My
eyes are ready bandaged; I am only waiting for the axe and the block."

"We are not going to dispose of you in quite so summary a fashion,"
said the Russian. "One minute more and your eyesight shall be restored
to you."
Ducie's quick ears caught a low click, as though someone had touched
a spring. Then there was a faint rumbling, as though something were
being rolled back on hidden wheels.
"Lend me your hand again, and bend that tall figure of yours. Step
carefully. There is another staircase to descend--the last and the
steepest of all."
Keeping fast hold of Platzoff's hand, Ducie followed slowly and
cautiously, counting the steps as he went down. They were of stone,
and were twenty-two in number. At the bottom of the staircase another
door was unlocked. The two passed through, and the door was shut and
relocked behind them.
"Be blind no longer!" said Platzoff, taking off the handkerchief and
handing it to Ducie, with a smile. A few seconds elapsed before the
latter could discern anything clearly. Then he saw that he was in a
small vaulted chamber about seven feet in height, with a flagged floor,
but without furniture of any kind save a small table of black oak on
which Platzoff's lamp was now burning. The atmosphere of this
dungeon had struck him with a sudden chill as he went in. At each end
was a door, both of iron. The one that had opened to admit them was
set in the thick masonry of the wall; the one at the opposite end seemed
built into the solid rock.
"Before we go any farther," said Platzoff, "I may as well explain to you
how it happens that a respectable old country house like Bon Repos has
such a suspicious-looking hiding-place about its premises. You must
know that I bought the house, many years ago, of the last representative
of an old North-country family. He was a bachelor, and in him the
family died out. Three years after I had come to reside here the old man,
at that time on his death-bed, sent me a letter and a key. The letter
revealed to me the secret of the place we are now exploring, of which I
had no previous knowledge; the key is that of the two iron doors. It

seems that the old man's ancestors had been deeply implicated in the
Jacobite risings of last century. The house had been searched several
times, and on one occasion occupied by Hanoverian troops. As a
provision against such contingencies, this hiding-place (a natural one as
far as the cavern beyond is concerned, which