The Inn at the Red Oak | Page 9

angles and ran
north. On either side opened a number of chambers in like conditions
of disrepair, which had been used as bedrooms in the palmy days of the
hostelry. This corridor ended at the bowling-alley, where as children

Tom and Dan had loved to play. Half-way to the entrance to the
bowling-alley a third hallway branched off to the right, leading to a
similar set of chambers. Into all these they entered, the Marquis
examining each with quick glances, dismissing them with the briefest
interest and the most obvious comment.
Dan saved the piéce-de-resistance till last. This was a little room
entered from the second corridor just at the turn--the only room indeed,
as he truthfully said, that merited a visit.
"This," he explained, "we call the Oak Parlour. It is the only room on
this floor worth showing you. My father brought the wainscoting from
an old English country-house in Dorsetshire. My father's people were
Torries, sir, and kept up their connection with the old country."
It was a delightful room into which Dan now admitted the light of day,
drawing aside the heavy green curtains from the eastern windows. It
was wainscoted from floor to cornice in old black English oak,
curiously and elaborately carved, and divided into long narrow panels.
The ceiling, of similar materials and alike elaborately decorated, was
supported by heavy transverse beams that seemed solid and strong
enough to support the roof of a cathedral. On one side two windows
opened upon the gallery and court and looked out upon the Cove, on
the other side stood a cabinet. It was the most striking piece of furniture
in the room, of enormous dimensions and beautifully carved on the
doors of the cupboards below and on the top-pieces between the
mirrors were lion's heads of almost life-size. Opposite the heavy door,
by which they had entered, was a large fireplace, containing a pair of
elaborately ornamented brass and irons. There was not otherwise a
great deal of furniture,--two or three tables, some chairs, a deep
window-seat, a writing-desk of French design; but all, except this last,
in keeping with the character of the room, and all brought across the
seas from the old Dorsetshire mansion, from which Peter Frost had
obtained the interior.
"Charmant!" exclaimed the Marquis. "You have a jewel, mon ami; a bit
of old England or of old France in the heart of America; a room one
finds not elsewhere in the States. It is a creation superbe."

With enthusiastic interest he moved about, touching each article of
furniture, examining with care the two of three old English landscapes
that had been let into panels on the west side of the room, pausing in
ecstacies before the great cabinet and standing before the fireplace as if
he were warming his hands at that generous hearth.
"Ah, Monsieur Frost, could I but write, read, dream here...!"
"I fear that would be impossible, sir," replied Dan. "It is difficult to heat
this portion of the house; and in fact, we never use it."
"Hélas!" exclaimed the Marquis, "those things which allure us in this
world are so often impossible. Perhaps in the spring, in the summer,
when there is no longer the necessity of the fire, you will permit me."
"It may be, monsieur," Dan replied, "that long before the summer
comes you will have left us."
"Mais non!" cried M. de Boisdhyver. "Every hour that I stay but proves
to me how long you will have to endure my company."
Somewhat ungraciously, it seemed, young Frost made no reply to this
pleasantry; for already he was impatient to be gone. Although the room
was intensely cold and uncomfortable, still his guest lingered, standing
before the massive cabinet, exclaiming upon the exquisiteness of the
workmanship, and every now and then running his dainty fingers along
the carving of its front. As Dan stood waiting for the Marquis to leave,
he chanced to glance through the window to the court without, and saw
Jesse starting out in the sleigh. As he had given him no such order he
ran quickly to the window, rapped vigourously and then, excusing
himself to the Marquis, hurried out to ask Jesse to explain his errand.
The Marquis de Boisdhyver stood for a moment, as Dan left him,
motionless in front of the cabinet. His face was bright with surprise and
delight, his eyes alert with interest and cunning. After a moment's
hesitation he stole cautiously to the window, and seeing Frost was
engaged in conversation with Jesse, he sprang back with quick steps to
the cabinet. He hastily ran the tips of his fingers along the beveled

edges of the wide shelf from end to end several times, each time the
expression of alertness deepening into one of disappointment. He
stopped