The
A
Cordelia Delacourt Adventure
Chapter
2 The
Castle
“Bloody awful weather,” Liz whispered as their coach crept up the narrow and treacherous mountain road. “Ain’t fit for man nor beast.”
Liz was sitting next to Cordelia and had disguised her whispered aside by placing her handkerchief over her mouth. Aunt Priscilla did not approve of Liz, finding her far too coarse and common, as indeed she was. It was one of the things about Liz that Cordelia found most endearing although at times even she found Liz’s reversion to gutter slang and her grating accent a bit too much to endure. Just now, however, Liz was on her best behaviour and keeping her comments low enough that Priscilla could not pick them up.
The storm helped muffle anything Liz said. Outside the coach the wind screamed and rain pelted against the paneling and windows with brutal force. At times the heavy coach rocked so violently from side to side that Cordelia feared it would overturn, and she couldn’t help wondering how the coachmen and horses could survive such meteorological violence. She half expected the coach to be struck by lightning and she mentally cringed each time a bolt struck nearby in spite of the fact that she knew it was already too late.
Aunt Priscilla, however, did not know, and she sat in white-knuckled silence, jumping each time the thunder crashed. She was clearly regretting having accepted the Baron’s invitation. But then how were any of them to know that the warm summer weather would turn suddenly hostile, creating a mountain storm that outdid anything Cordelia had ever experienced?
“There ought to be some way of warning people about this sort of
thing,” Cordelia mused as another thunderous crash made her ears
pop. “After all it is
1853. It’s not as if we’re
still in the Dark Ages. If we’d
known we could have stayed
“What’s that, Miss Cordelia?” Liz asked, reverting to her role as Cordelia’s genteel companion. Liz could speak proper English when she put her mind to it, it was just that her old speech habits died hard.
Cordelia realized she had been thinking aloud. “Oh,” she said. “I was just wondering why no one has made any effort to set up some sort of scientific system of forecasting the weather. With all of the modern scientific instruments we have and the wondrous new methods of communication it should be possible.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aunt Priscilla chimed in. “The very idea. You’ll be suggesting that we try to predict the movement of the stars and planets next.”
Cordelia did not reply. Pointing out to her aunt that predicting the movements of the heavens had been possible for thousands of years would have been wasted. Although extremely opinionated, her aunt’s education did not seem to extend beyond a thorough knowledge what she considered proper behaviour.
Outside the rain seemed to intensify, coming down with such force it sounded as if stones were hammering against the roof of the coach. “Gracious,” Cordelia thought. “It’s a night right out of a Gothic novel.” As the thought escaped her mind the carriage suddenly slowed and there was the hollow sound of wheels running over a wooden bridge. Peering through the windowglass Cordelia could make out swaying lamps supported by chains attached to iron bars jutting out from black stonework and guessed that they had reached the Baron’s castle at last.
Hooves clattered across cobblestones indicating that they were now in the castle courtyard. The rain, however, was so heavy that Cordelia could see nothing of the buildings, only the flicker of light from swaying lanterns. She was dreading having to step from the coach and into the deluge. However, at that moment the rain suddenly stopped or at least it stopped hitting the coach. Cordelia realized that the coach had pulled into a building or some sort of shelter that would enable them to step out of the coach without getting soaked to the skin.
The door was opened by the footman. He was soaked to the skin, but seemed curiously unperturbed. He slowly raised a hand to Aunt Priscilla, helping her down the steps. Cordelia followed and then Liz. Looking about her she saw that the coach had stopped under a large stone arch. It stopped the rain, but not the wind which blew through with tremendous force, whipping the skirts of the three women and attempting to pull their hats from their heads. They hurried toward a flight of stone steps that led into the castle. The other footman was already there, holding the door open in readiness. Without moving at an unseemly pace, Aunt Priscilla led the way through the large double doors. Inside they found themselves in a wide but unimposing corridor. Not having seen any other part of the castle Cordelia was far from impressed. However, all was explained a few seconds later when von Thorstenburg suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor. He went immediately to Aunt Priscilla, but his comments were aimed at all of them.
“I must apologize for bringing you in through the servants’ entrance, but the beastly weather would have made bringing you through into the main hall most unpleasant. Please allow me to escort you to the guest hall.” Taking Aunt Priscilla’s arm, but giving Cordelia a knowing look he led the way toward the end of the corridor.
Cordelia understood the look. The Baron was communicating the fact that she was the real reason everyone was here, but that Aunt Priscilla must be the one to be appeased. Whatever the reason, the Baron led them through a doorway and down another corridor before stopping at a closed set of doors. He pulled a lever in the wall and stood aside as the doors opened. “I think you will be impressed by this,” he said. “It leads directly to the guest hall and avoids a great deal of tiresome climbing of stairs.”
“But what is it?” Aunt Priscilla asked. “It appears nothing but a door-less room.”
Cordelia peered over her aunt’s shoulder. “I believe it is a lift, dear aunt.”
“Indeed,” the Baron said, enthusiastically. “I designed it myself.”
Aunt Priscilla frowned. Foreign to all things mechanical it was entirely possible that she didn’t even know what a lift was. “A lift? But surely you don’t think of us as freight my dear man.”
“I am willing to give it a try,” Cordelia said, stepping into the beautifully appointed interior. The inside of the lift was lined with gleaming brass and richest mahogany and illuminated by four elegant lamps.
Aunt Priscilla frowned. “I’m not sure I approve,” she said. “I doubt that the good lord intended for us to ride in mechanical boxes.”
“Apparently he didn’t intend for some people to use their brains either,” thought Cordelia, but she said nothing and waited patiently as her aunt stepped tentatively into the lift.
“I assure you it is quite safe,” the Baron said. “And it saves you a drenching walk in the rain. Of course, there is always the staircase, but it is eight long flights and you might find it a bit tiring.”
Aunt Priscilla merely pursed her lips and said nothing. Based on this sign of reluctant approval the Baron pulled a lever, closing the brass doors, and then pushed on a second lever. With a slight start and a mechanical hum the lift started to move.
“Oh!” exclaimed Aunt Priscilla. She grabbed hold of the handrail on the side and held on with both hands.
“Do not fear,” the Barron said. “The lift is supported by cables of steel. It will not fail.”
“What powers the lift?” Cordelia asked.
“Actually it requires very little power,” the Baron answered, fiddling with his monocle. “Counterweights do most of the work and a small electric motor does the rest.”
“Oh, that is interesting,” Cordelia exclaimed. “I would very much like to see it.”
“In that case you shall,” the Baron replied, beaming with pride. “And much more besides.”
The lift came to a smooth halt and the Baron pulled the lever opening the
door. They entered a vast hall,
clearly gothic in its architectural
inspiration. The ceiling soared
cathedral-like overhead, reaching up sixty
feet. Suspended from the walls
and ceiling were dozens of glowing lamps, filling the huge space with warm
light. In the centre of the room
a fireplace large enough to fit a wagon threw out welcome
heat. It was well furnished with
a table large enough to seat at least
“I expect you are very tired,” the Baron said, “but I thought you might like a meal before you retired.”
Cordelia saw that the table was set for five and realized that despite her weariness that she was hungry. They had traveled all day and had stopped only once at a small inn for a light meal. Apparently Aunt Priscilla and Liz shared her appetite, quickly accepting the Baron’s invitation. They were joined by the Baron’s sister, a tall, beautiful blonde with the intriguing name of Messalina. Cordelia had met her briefly at the ball and wondered about so beautiful a woman living in such a lonely setting. The Baron’s castle was nothing if not isolated and she wondered if Messalina shared any of the Baron’s passion for science. However, her thinking on that topic was diverted as soon as they were seated at the table.
Immediately servants began placing a variety of food in front of them, beginning
with hot soup and finishing with cuts of roast beef, pork, and
poultry. The entire feast was
accompanied by several different wines.
Cordelia decided that the meal was about as fine a one as she had
ever been served, although the Baron apologized for its lack of sophistication.
“It’s not quite
what is served in
Aunt Priscilla did not comment. Either she was satisfied with the meal or was too polite to object. Cordelia, however was not as reticent. “It is excellent Herr Baron, as I am sure my aunt and Miss Brown both agree. I did not expect such hospitality on such a wild night.”
“I am glad it pleases you, Miss Delacourt,” the Baron smiled. “Now I expect you are tired. I will have Hermann show you to your rooms.”
Cordelia was indeed tired. The food and wine had made her very sleepy and she was more than ready to retire for the night. Her aunt stood and expressed her gratitude as did Cordelia and Liz. Then they filed out of the room, following Hermann.
The Baron’s servant was a strongly built, but rather unresponsive man in his middle years. He uttered not a word as he escorted the three women from the great hall to an outer room that featured an impressive staircase that swept up a full two stories. Cordelia realized that this would have been the way they would have entered the castle had the weather been better. She noted several large clocks placed at regular intervals along the staircase and turned to the Baron who had accompanied them to the foot of the stairs.
“Ah,” he said with obvious pleasure. “I see you noticed my clocks. They are one of my hobbies and I built all of their inner workings myself.”
“Indeed, Herr Baron. I find that most interesting.”
“You do?” the Baron smiled. “Then allow me.” He moved quickly to the closest clock and swung open the cabinet, revealing the inside of the case. Cordelia had never seen such exquisite clockwork. When she was a young girl she had amused herself one afternoon by taking apart the mechanism of the large hall clock in her home. Her father was most displeased until he realized that the clock kept better time after Cordelia had put it back together than it had before she had dismantled it.
“That is beautiful,” Cordelia said. “It runs so smoothly it is more like a pocket watch than a clock. What sort of mechanism powers it?”
“That is another of my little secrets. I have harnessed the power of electricity to the mechanism. I have found a way to store electricity in a new form of battery that I have spent the last five years perfecting.”
Cordelia was impressed. “You will have to show me more of this after I have rested. I am sure Aunt Priscilla will not object.”
“It will be my pleasure to show you everything,” the Baron replied. Cordelia did not realize until later just what the Baron meant by that remark.
PREVIOUS
CHAPTER WIZARD'S
LAIR MAIN PAGE
L'ESPION'S
STORY PAGE
NEXT
CHAPTER