Round the Fire Stories

u pass down from the Arc de Triomphe. I fancy that it had been there long before the avenue was constructed, for the grey tiles were stained with lichens, and the walls were

ivate collection of Talmudic, cabalistic, and magical works, many of them of great rarity and value. His tastes leaned toward the marvellous and the monstrous, and I have heard that his experiments in the direction of the unknown have passed all the bounds of civilization and of decorum. To his English friends he

ove its fringe of fir trees. His knowledge was greater than his wisdom, and his powers were far superior to his character. The small bright eyes, buried deeply in his fleshy face, twinkled with intelligence and an unabated curiosity of life, but they were the eyes of a sensualist and an egotist. Enough of the ma

tablets, and this community of interests had brought us together. Chance remarks had led to daily conversation, and that to something verging upon friendship. I had promised him that on my next visit to Par

nting to a broad sofa in his large salon; “I hop

a bookworm like myself, and there is no scent so pleasant to my nostrils as that faint, subtle reek which comes f

s. “I have expended nearly a quarter of a million of money upon these objects which surround you. Books, weapons, gems, c

ged it with a very vivid circle of golden light. A half-rolled palimpsest lay in the centre, and around it were many quaint articles of bric-à-brac.

g,” I remarked. “What i

ve had occasion to ask myself. I would give a good

e had dried it into an extreme hardness. It was a large funnel, and might hold a quart wh

make of it?

d I. “I have seen in England leathern drinking flagons of the seventeenth century—‘blac

g a vessel with liquid. If my suspicions are correct, however, it was a queer vintner who used it, and

narrow neck of the leather funnel was all haggled and scored, as if some one had notched it r

tried to cut

ou call

se marks on such tough material, whatever the instrument may have been.

is little eyes twin

hology of dreams among your

ow that there was

d with volumes, from Albertus Magnus onward, which d

ce of ch

ogist. The quack of yesterday is the professor of to-morrow. Even such subtle and elusive things as dreams will in time be reduced to system and order. Wh

he science of dreams to do with a

n, in the Quartier Latin. The dining-room of this old house is decorated with a coat of arms, chevrons, and bars rouge upon a field argent, 6which prove, upon inquiry, to be the shield of Nicholas de la Reynie, a high official of King Louis XIV. There can be no doubt that the other art

t th

ur hands once more and to examine the upper bra

literated by time. The general effect was of several l

ake it

, I

have no doubt whate

mentioned would have h

this curious object, and yet he had some one

imagine;

Do you observe something drawn

say it was

wn. It is a heraldic crown—a badge of rank, and it consists of an alternation of four 7pearls and strawberry leaves, the pro

leather filler bel

e a pecul

marquis,” said he. “So much we have cl

on Dacre’s face, or from some subtle suggestion in his manner, but a feeling of repuls

ep, and to hope for some enlightenment. The process does not appear to me to be very obscure, though it has not yet received the blessing of orthodox science. According to my theory, any object which has been intimately associated with any supreme paroxysm o

t old sword upon the wall, I might dream of some b

in a brisk skirmish, which I have been unable to identify, but which occurred at the time of the wars of the Frondists. If you think of it, some of ou

exa

instances which you will find set forth in a small brochure which I am myself writing upon the subject. But to come back to the poi

id you

, that’s well thought of,” said he. “This really will be an exceedingly interesting experim

ested myself in

y great favour, when you occupy that couch to-night, to sl

test belief in Dacre’s theory, nor any hopes for success in such an experiment; yet it amused me that the experiment should be made. Dacre, with great gr

e in the assurance of Dacre’s manner, and my extraordinary surroundings, the huge room with the strange and often sinister objects which were hung round it, struck solemnity into my soul. Finally I undressed, and, turning out the la

rom the corners ran up to join a sharp cup-shaped roof. The architectur

nd singular light-blue eyes—the eyes of a child. She was past her first youth, but could not yet be called middle-aged. Her figure was inclined to stoutness, and her bearing was proud and confident. Her face was pale, but serene. It was a curious face, comely and yet feline, with a subtle suggestion of cruelty about the s

rough-looking fellows in stout jerkins came bustling in and removed first the red carpet, and then the boards which formed the dais, so as to entirely clear the room. When this screen was removed I saw some singular articles of furniture behind it. One lo

ignity, as if he took command of all things from the instant of his entrance. In spite of his rude appearance and sordid dress, it was now his business, his room, his to command. He carried a coil of light ropes over his left fore-arm. The lady looked him up and down with a searching glance, but her

ch was little higher than her waist. On to this she was lifted and laid, with her back upon it, and her face to the ceiling, while the priest, quivering with horror, had rushed out of the room. The woman’s lips were moving rapidly, and thou

liarity. It was a leathern filler. With horrible energy he thrust it—but I could stand no more. My hair stood on end with horror. I writhed, I struggled, I broke through the bonds of sleep, and I burst with a shriek into my own life, and found myself lying shivering with terror in the huge library, with the moonlight flooding through the window and throwing strange silver and black traceries upon the opposite wall. Oh, what a blessed relief to feel that I was back in the nineteenth century—back out of that medieval vault into a world where men had human hearts within

t like a frozen image, and glare at the dark figure which was coming down the great room. And then it moved out into the

sake what’s the matter?”

ee you! I have been down i

as you who

e say

lamp. “I think we may get the fire to burn up again,” he added, throwing some logs upon t

e—several

funnel has

nfernal thing again for all

chuc

me in return, for that scream of yours wasn’t a very pleasant sound at two in the

eadful b

stion,’ as it was called in the genial days of ‘

, I awoke before

old story, and they are all in their graves now anyhow, so what does it matter h

ve been a terrible malefactor indeed if he

-gown round him and crouching closer to the fire. “They were in proportio

possibly know

own an old vellum-cover

nteenth century, but I will give a rough translation as I go. Yo

sellor of Parliament. In person it seemed hard to believe that she had really done such wicked deeds, for she was of a mild appearance, and of short stature, with a fair skin and blue eyes. Yet the Court, having found her guilty, condemned her to the ordinary an

his entry is

t not convincing. How do you pro

executioner approached her she recognized him by the cords which he held in his hands, and she at once

it w

upon the three pails of water, which were all ready for her, she said with a smile, “All that water must have been brought here for the purpose of

eaven’s sa

which you have gazed upon to-night: ‘The good Abbé Pirot, unable to contemplate the agonie

eed the same event. But who, then, is this 16lady whose ap

by my bed. Lifting up the ill-omened filler, he turned the brass rim so that the light

e of a marquis or of a marquise,” said he. “W

undoubt

ters from left to right are, M, M, a sma

right. I can make out the t

ecord of the trial of Marie Madeleine d’Aubray, Marquise de Brinvi

er unbridled debauchery, the coldblooded and protracted torture of her sick father, the murder of her brothers for motives of petty gain. I recollected also that the bravery of her end had done something to atone for the hor

ely they did not carry their medieval homage to the nobility to t

be more natural than that La Reynie, the head of the police, should retain this filler as a grim souvenir. It was not often that a marchioness of France under

ointing to the marks u

way. “I think it is evident that like other tigresses