replied in affright, that not one of them had ventured on the north side
of the chateau, since the preceding night.

'He sleeps soundly then,' said the Count, 'and is at such a distance
from the outer door, which is fastened, that to gain admittance to the
chambers it will be necessary to force it. Bring an instrument, and
follow me.'

The servants stood mute and dejected, and it was not till nearly all the
household were assembled, that the Count's orders were obeyed. In the
mean time, Dorothee was telling of a door, that opened from a gallery,
leading from the great stair-case into the last anti-room of the saloon,
and, this being much nearer to the bed-chamber, it appeared probable,
that Ludovico might be easily awakened by an attempt to open it.
Thither, therefore, the Count went, but his voice was as ineffectual
at this door as it had proved at the remoter one; and now, seriously
interested for Ludovico, he was himself going to strike upon the door
with the instrument, when he observed its singular beauty, and with-held
the blow. It appeared, on the first glance, to be of ebony, so dark and
close was its grain and so high its polish; but it proved to be only of
larch wood, of the growth of Provence, then famous for its forests
of larch. The beauty of its polished hue and of its delicate carvings
determined the Count to spare this door, and he returned to that leading
from the back stair-case, which being, at length, forced, he entered the
first anti-room, followed by Henri and a few of the most courageous of
his servants, the rest awaiting the event of the enquiry on the stairs
and landing-place.

All was silent in the chambers, through which the Count passed, and,
having reached the saloon, he called loudly upon Ludovico; after which,
still receiving no answer, he threw open the door of the bed-room, and
entered.

The profound stillness within confirmed his apprehensions for Ludovico,
for not even the breathings of a person in sleep were heard; and his
uncertainty was not soon terminated, since the shutters being all
closed, the chamber was too dark for any object to be distinguished in
it.

The Count bade a servant open them, who, as he crossed the room to
do so, stumbled over something, and fell to the floor, when his cry
occasioned such panic among the few of his fellows, who had ventured
thus far, that they instantly fled, and the Count and Henri were left to
finish the adventure.

Henri then sprung ac