This was out
in the pretty little park back of the chateau, and the duchess would sit
at Gluck's side and pour out champagne for him. All this may have been
idle talk, but at last the duke got wind of the rumours, and one night
he surprised the pair playing a duo at the harpsichord, and stabbed them
both dead.
Since then the chateau was burned down, but the place has been haunted.
I, myself, good gentlemen, have heard ghostly music, and I swear to
you--
"Oh, my God, listen, listen!"
"What pagan nonsense!" blurted out Michael.
I cautioned silence, and we all listened. The old man had slid off his
chair, and his face was chalky white. Michael's ugly mouth was half
opened in his black beard, and I confess that I felt rather chilly.
Music, faint, tinkling, we certainly heard. It came with the wind in
little sobs, and then silence settled upon us.
"It's the Chevalier Gluck, and he is playing to his duchess out in the
fields. See, I will open the door and show you," whispered the fat
landlord.
He went slowly to the door, and we followed him breathlessly.
Pages:
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244