The Room in the Dragon VolantLe Fanu, Joseph Sheridan
History
The Room in the Dragon Volant
Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan
British -- France -- Paris -- Fiction; France -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Horror tales
"St. Clair, shut the door; come here. I can't rest till I have made out
something about those people of rank who have got the apartments under
mine. Here are fifteen francs; make out the servants we assisted today
have them to a _petit souper_, and come back and tell me their
entire history. I have, this moment, seen one of them who knows nothing,
and has communicated it. The other, whose name I forget, is the unknown
nobleman's valet, and knows everything. Him you must pump. It is, of
course, the venerable peer, and not the young lady who accompanies him,
that interests me--you understand? Begone! fly! and return with all the
details I sigh for, and every circumstance that can possibly interest
me."
It was a commission which admirably suited the tastes and spirits of my
worthy St. Clair, to whom, you will have observed, I had accustomed
myself to talk with the peculiar familiarity which the old French comedy
establishes between master and valet.
I am sure he laughed at me in secret; but nothing could be more polite
and deferential.
With several wise looks, nods and shrugs, he withdrew; and looking down
from my window, I saw him with incredible quickness enter the yard,
where I soon lost sight of him among the carriages.
Chapter III
DEATH AND LOVE TOGETHER MATED
When the day drags, when a man is solitary, and in a fever of impatience
and suspense; when the minute hand of his watch travels as slowly as the
hour hand used to do, and the hour hand has lost all appreciable motion;
when he yawns, and beats the devil's tattoo, and flattens his handsome
nose against the window, and whistles tunes he hates, and, in short,
does not know what to do with himself, it is deeply to be regretted that
he cannot make a solemn dinner of three courses more than once in a day.
The laws of matter, to which we are slaves, deny us that resource.
But in the times I speak of, supper was still a substantial meal, and
its hour was approaching. This was consolatory. Three-quarters of an
hour, however, still interposed. How was I to dispose of that interval?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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