"You will never get another chance, I'll warrant me. Go, let the
servants put you to work in the large music room first. Begin with the
grands, then follow with the uprights. Thank you, gentlemen both, for
the courage and finesse you displayed in this desperate quest. I'll see
that you are both suitably rewarded." I fancied that Michael regarded
me sardonically, but he held his peace about the night's adventures.
We had indeed reason to feel flattered at the success of the dangerous
expedition. Had we not captured, more by sheer good luck than strategy,
the only piano-tuner in mediaeval France?
XII
THE TRAGIC WALL
I
BY THE DARK POOL
It was not so high, the wall, as massive, not so old as moss-covered.
After Rudolph Cot, the painter, had achieved celebrity with his
historical canvas, The Death of the Antique World, now in the Louvre, he
bought the estate of Chalfontaine, which lies at the junction of two
highroads: one leading to Ecouen, the other to Villiers-le-Bel. Almost
touching the end of the park on the Ecouen side there is a little lake,
hardly larger than a pool, and because of its melancholy
aspect--sorrowful willows hem it about, drooping into stagnant
waters--Monsieur Cot had christened the spot: The Dark Tarn of Auber.
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