Speaker 1: The Lost Door by Dorothy Quick. I have often wondered
whether I would have urged Rexler to come with me
if I had known what Rougemont would do to him.
I think looking back, that even if I could have
glimpsed the future, I would have acted in the same way,
and that I would have brought him to Rougemont to
fulfill his destiny. As the boat cut its swift way
through the waters on its journey to France, I had
no thought of this, nor had Rexler. He was happier
than I had ever seen him. He had never been
abroad before, and the boat was a source of wonder
and enjoyment to him. I myself was full of an
eager anticipation of happy months to come. It hardly seemed
possible that only a week had elapsed since I received
the cable that had made such a change in my fortunes.
Your father died yesterday. You are sole heir provided you
comply with the conditions of his will, the principal one
being that you spend six months of each year at Rougemont.
If satisfactory, please come at once. It was signed by
my father's lawyer. I had no sorrow over my father's passing,
except a deep regret that we could not have known
the true relationship of father and son. At the death
of my mother, my father had grown bitter and refused
to see the innocent cause of her untimely passing. As
a baby, I had been brought up in the lodge
of Rougemont, my father's magnificent chateau near Vichy. When I
reached the age of four, I have been sent away
to boarding school. After that, my life had been a
succession of schools, first in France, the adopted land of
my father, then England, and finally Saint Paul's in America.
In all justice to my parent, I must admit he
gave me every advantage except the affection I would have
cherished by his own wish. I had never seen him
in life, nor would I see him in death or
A later cable advised me that the funeral was over
and his body already at rest in the beautiful Gothic
mausoleum he had had built in his lifetime after the
manner of the ancients. He had left me everything, with
only two injunctions, that a certain sum of money be
set aside to keep the chateau always in its present condition,
and that I should spend at least half my time
in it, and my children after me, a condition I
was only too pleased to accept all my life. I
had longed for a home. I cabled at once that
I would sail. A return cable brought me the news
that I had unlimited funds to draw upon. It was
then that I urged Rexler to come with me. Rerexler
and I have been friends since the day when two
lonely boys have been put by chance into the same
room at school. We were so utterly unlike. It was
perhaps the difference between us that held us together through
the years. At Saint Paul's and later at Princeton Gordon
Rexler had always been at the head of his class,
whereas I inevitably tagged along at the bottom. The contrast
between us was expressed not only in the color of
our hair and eyes, but also in our dispositions. My
greatest gift from fate was a sense of humor, and
I suppose it was this quality of mind that particularly
appealed to Werexler. It seems as though I was the
only one who could lift him out of the despondency
into which he often plunged. As the years passed and
his tendency to depression intensified, he came to depend more
and more upon me, and we grew closer together. Strangely enough,
the whiteness of his face and the gloom that exuded
from him did not detract from his good looks. It
only added to them. For the translucence of his skin
made the thick black hair that lay close to his
head all the darker, while at the same time it
brought out the deep black of his eyes and the
firm cut of his lips. The night before we landed,
we were standing on the deck at the rail, looking
over the side, straining our eyes for the first glimpse
of the lights of Sherberg, and Rexler spoke of himself
for the first time since we had left New York.
I know, Jim. For perhaps the only time in my life,
I feel at peace, as though something that I should
have done long ago has been at last accomplished. He
was so solemn that I laughed a little. He stopped
me suddenly. It's true, I've always felt an urge within me,
a blinding force pushing me towards something that is waiting
for me. Where I do not know what, I have
no idea. For the first time, it's gone that nameless
urge that I knew not how to satisfy. And I
feel that the call's being answered with the usual inanity
of people at a loss for words, I said the
first thing that came into my mind. Perhaps Rougemont has
been calling you. You've no idea. What a relief it is.
He continued, Not to feel constantly pulled, with no way
of knowing toward what or how to go about answering
the summons. I have often thought that I should take
my life. That that was what was meant. His voice
trailed off. This time, I was not at a loss
for words. I started to read him a lecture would
have done credit to Martin Luther or John Knox. At
the end of my harangue, Rexler laughed a rare thing
for him and put his arm through mine. All that's
gone now, Didn't I tell you that, at last, in
some strange way, I am at peace. Rougemont's towers were
visible long before we reached the great iron gates that
had to be swung open to let us pass. For miles,
the great edifice dominated the landscape. The huge building had
a soft, reddish tinge, from which I supposed it derived
its name Red Mountain. It was a fairy tale palace
perched on a mountaintop. A great thrill went through me
as I realized that this beautiful chateau was mine. And
as we drove through the gates up the winding road
through my own forest, the pride of possession swelled up
in me, and for the first time I began to
understand why my father had never put his foot outside
the great gates and the high wall that enclosed the
acres that now belonged to me. As we drove on
up the winding narrow road, over the drawber that spanned
the moat into the courtyard, I understood more and more.
Here was everything beauty such as I had never dreamed
forrest stocked with game, running brooks full of fish, a lake,
and farther off a farm I could glimpse its thatched
roofs to supply our wants. Rougemont was a world in itself.
The high carved door was swung open as Wrexler and
I got out of the car. Monsieur de Carrier, my
father's lawyer, advanced to meet us a friendly smile on
his Santa Claus countenance. I shook hands introduced Rexler as
a very good friend, who is going to stay with me.
Monsieur Carrier's face fell clearly Rexler's being with me was
a disappointment. Nevertheless, he greeted him politely as he ushered us.
In that moment, Rougemont took me to its heart and
won me for its own. Imagine Amboise or any of
the great French chateau suddenly restored to itself as it
was in the day of the medici And you have
a small idea of Rougemont, for we had stepped out
of the present into the past. Carrier, Wexler and I
were anachronisms. Everything else was in keeping with the dead sentries.
Even the servants were in doublet and hose of a
sort of Cerellian blue, with great sashes puffed with crimson silk.
I think I gasped at any rate. Monsieur Carrier saw
my astonishment. It is your father's will, my boy. He
always kept it so, and wore the costume of former
days himself. He greatly admired the first Francis. In your
rooms you will find costumes prepared for you. For the
last six months of his life, he was making ready
for his son. There was an odd sort of pride
in Carrier's voice. I remembered now that my father had
written for my measurements. I had thought he meant to
make me a present. But when time passed and I
heard nothing, the incident had slipped from my mind. I
looked at Rexler, expecting to see some sign of a
muse on his face, but he stood quietly, looking at
the tapestry that hung half way up the grand stairway.
There was a dreamy, far away expression in his eyes.
May I speak before your friend, Carrier asked. I nodded.
The servants had already disappeared with our luggage. I threw
myself down on a long low bench, and Carrier sat
opposite me. You understood the terms of your father's will,
of course, Carrier began that you must live here six months,
But you did not know that you must live here
as he did in the past. If you do not,
then Rougemont goes to your father's steward, with the same
conditions to be kept always as it is, with only
a small sum set aside for you. I said nothing.
Driving along the road from Paris, it would have seemed fantastic,
but here, under the spell of Rougemont, it seemed as
though anything else would be impossible. Carrier went on, you
will be the grand signan lord of the manor and
the old style. You may have your guests if you like,
but they too must conform with the rules. Here he
glanced at Rexler, who stood still as though he were
in a trance. The other six months, you are free
to do as you please, spend what you like of
the money not needed for Rougemont, that is, if you
want to go anywhere else. Evidently he had finished his
speech at the time. I did not recognize the significance
of his last words. I am willing to submit to
the conditions. Only a sudden thought struck me. I don't
want to lose all touch with the outside world. Can
I go to 'chi to get papers and so forth?
I don't suppose they had papers in Francis first's time,
Monsieur de Carrier smiled, My dear boy, your father didn't
wish to make a prisoner of you. You may go
to Vch if you like, but you must not be
away from Rougemont more than twenty four consecutive hours during
the six months you are in residence. So far as
the papers, et cetera are concerned, they will be at
the lodge. There is also a telephone, and your own
clothes will be kept there after to night. Nothing of
nineteen thirty five must come within these walls. But you
have freach to go to the lodge any time you
want to. You can get in touch with me also
if you desire further information. De Lacy, the steward will
look out for you. He knows your father's ways. Now
permit me to congratulate you and say, au revoirs. My
young friend. Monsieur de Carriere got up on his stubby
fat legs, made a little bow to me another to Rexler,
which went unheeded. I too arose. It will seem strange,
but I'll do my best. One other thing, Monsieur de
Carriere was all of a sudden very grave. In two
weeks time, you will be given a key. It unlocks
a casket you will find in the library. In it
you will find a message from your father. Adieu, my boy,
I wish you well. With a click of the heels
and a friendly smile, he was gone. I turned to Rexler,
What do you think of it? I asked. Grexler did
not answer. He stood gazing up at the stairway. The
wide marble stairs curved upwards along the sides. The intricate
carving was beautiful in its lacy delicateness. At that moment, however,
I was alarmed for my friend. His attitude was rigid
and his eyes were glassy. I put my hand on
his shoulder, Rerexler. My action galvanized him to life. Another
minute and she would have reached the last step. Now
she is gone. This was madness. There had been no
one there, I said as much. Grexler turned and faced me.
But there was, he said eagerly, the most beautiful girl
I have ever seen, all done up in some old costume,
great wide skirts, little waists, and a high lace collar.
She had bronze curl, great blue eyes, and the loveliest
face I saw her immediately we came in. She looked
at both of us. She smiled at me. I was
in a quandary until now. I had not given the
staircase more than a perfunctory glance. For all I knew
she might have been one of the servants peeping to
see her new master. To Rexler, impressionable strange creature that
he was. One glance might have so registered on his
mind that he kept on seeing her. For certainly she
had not been there when I looked. It seemed best
to make light of the whole matter. Anyway, she's gone now,
at least I can explain the costume. I take it
you didn't hear Carrier's announcements. Rexler shook his head. I
proceeded to enlighten him. Instead of teasing me about the
strange conditions my father's will had imposed on me. He
was enthusiastic about the idea. It's the one period in
history that has always interested me. Jim were in luck.
Imagine stepping back into Medici, France for six months, shutting
out the world. Who knows but that Catherine herself may
have stayed here, or Marguerite de Valois, the Marguerite of
Marguerite's beautiful, but no more beautiful than that girl on
the stairs. I can hardly wait to see her again.
I heartily hoped that he would see her, and that
she was not entirely a creature of his imagination. If
she was real, I too was eager to meet her,
Rexler interrupted my thoughts. I feel as though I had
come home, he said, I'm crazy to explore. Let's shed
these ugly things and begin to really live. Why it's
been this I've been waiting for. It's lucky we're the
same size. Out of his irrelevance, I'd gathered the trend
of his thought. I wonder where we go? I began,
almost as though he had heard my words. A tall,
commanding figure stepped into the hall. He was attired richly
in damask of a lovely soft blue, with the same
sashes of crimson that the servant Livery had shown, but
in this case of finer material. He was a handsome
man of about thirty four. His beard was pointed, and
he had a small mustache. His long legs were encased
in silken hope, and he wore a dagger thrust through
his belt. De Lacey at your service, my lord, he announced,
as he made a deep bow. I extended my hand,
somewhat at a loss to know how to greet my
father's steward, who was clearly a man of some importance,
and who, but for me, would be owner of Rougemont.
Instead of shaking hands, he dropped on one knee and
kissed my hand, a proceeding which embarrassed me very much.
On motioning him to rise, he did so with a
lithe grace. I suppose you want to change your strange clothes,
my lord, and see your quarters. I nodded and introduced Wexler.
De Lacey bowed, Monsieur Wexler would like to be near you.
Then he added, we have some thirty or forty sweets,
my lord. Werexler said he would prefer to be close
at hand, and together we followed De Lacey up the
marble stairway into a new world. Wexler was at ease
immediately in his doublet and hose. The rich embroidered garments
seemed to suit him as modern clothes. Never did he
looked handso than ever. He also told me that the
costume of the Medici was becoming to me, and truly,
when I caught a glimpse of myself mirrored in the pond,
for the chateau did not possess a large mirror, I
was not ill pleased with the result. But by the
end of the week I still felt strange in my
new attire. Whereas Wrexler, from the beginning wore his as
if to the manner born. But I anticipate that first
night we donned. Two of the outfits which the valet
whom De Lacey introduced me to had put out our
own clothes disappeared, and, much to my annoyance, with them
my cigarettes. We ate dinner in state upon a raised
dais at one end of the great hall. At either
side below us were long narrow tables filled with people,
dressed also in keeping with the period. They made a
wonderful picture and comprised. I supposed my court or retinue.
De Lacey presented me to them with a flourish and
they all filed by and kissed my hand, then went
to their places. When Wrexler and I were seated, they
two sat down. When I began to talk, they filled
the hall with gay chattering. From a minstrel gallery at
the other end of the room came soft strains of music.
De Lacey stood behind me pouring my wine. One thing
I noticed was that in the whole room, and there
must have been two hundred people at least, there were
no older men or women. In fact, De Lacey was
the oldest of the lot. The others ranged from about
sixteen to thirty. How did my father get all these
people together? I asked De Lacey. Most of them, my Lord,
were born at Rougemont. Still others were adopted and brought
here almost as soon as they were born. None of
us has ever been outside Rougemont Gates. De Lacey was
quite matter of fact as he made his statement. Grexler
was searching the hall with his eyes as he listened
to my steward and you, I looked at De Lacey.
I too, my Lord, know nothing of your outside world,
nor do I want to. Why should I? Who am
happy here? My family lived down at the farm. But
his Highness your father became interested in me. He brought
me into the chateau, had me educated, and looked after
me himself. Eventually he made me Steward of Rougemont. It
is a great honor, he conferred upon me, and I
shall do my best to help you, my Lord. Of
a sudden I saw what my father's life work had been,
to rear a court to people Rougemont. My father had
been twenty five at my mother's death. He had died
at fifty eight. He had had thirty three years to
make his dream come true. Where are the parents of
the ones who were born at Rougemont, at their own
places or the farms. My Lord Rougemont has over a
thousand acres and several manners upon it, where people whom
his Highness your father advanced over others live. They all
served their ruler in some way in return for what
is given them. Only the people of the lodge are
in touch with the outside, which we have been taught
to look upon with scorn. Here we have everything, and
to be taken to the chateau ITTs is the ambition
of every one on the estate. I saw it all,
not of course, every intricacy of the elaborate system my
father had evolved, but at least a glimmer of the truth.
And I marveled at the character of a man who
had taken children out of the world to make his
own world, and then had the patience to wait for
them to grow up to form his court. The court
he planned for me. Yes, in my egotism, I thought
it was for me. Two weeks were to pass before
I learned what his real reason had been. Into my reflections,
Rexler broke abruptly. She is not here, asked de Lacey
about her her beauty haunts me already I am in
love with her. I was not surprised. Nothing I felt
could at this point surprise me. So much had happened
in the last few hours. If my father had arisen
from the floor like Hamlet's ghost, I would have greeted
him quite casually. Is there a young girl here with
bronze curls and blue eyes? I asked obediently. A shadow
crossed De Lacey's hands face for the first time. He hesitated.
There was no one here that answers that description. May
I ask why you, my friend saw her on the stairway.
I caught a murmur from De Lacey's lips so soon
it sounded like But before I could question further, he
said aloud, I have leave to depart and join my lady,
And before I could answer, he bowed himself away to
take a seat at one of the tables below. Wexler
looked over his wine goblet. The man lied, I saw
recognition of the description in his eyes. We'll get the
truth out of him later, I countered, isn't it fine
to actually eat chicken with your fingers and not feel
your committing a social error. We did not get any
information out of De Lacey. Later, to Wrexler's insistent questionings,
he was at first noncommittal, and after a bit downright
kurt I poured oil on the troubled waters by suggesting that,
as it was late, we would wait until morning to
see the library and the left of the chateau. With
a smile of relief, De Lacey ushered us to our chambers.
My retiring was a kind of ceremony. It amused me,
but I had a nagging little thought in the back
of my mind that all this etiquette will become boring
after a while. As the last man bowed himself out
of my room, De Lacey bent low. My lord, there
are guards at your door. You have only to call
if you require anything. I thanked him once more greatly,
to my embarrassment. He again kissed my hand, your servant
to the death. He cried, and drew the curtains about
my high canopied bed. I knew that outside the red
damask two huge candles were burning, but the curtains shut
out their light, and I was smothered in darkness. I
made a mental note that I must arrange somehow for
air in my room. The French idea of banishing night
air did not coincide with my American habits. My thoughts
were racing back and forth among the strange events of
the day. But before I could focus them into any
kind of order, sleep descend upon me. I had a
strange dream. In it, the most beautiful woman I had
ever seen came and parted the red damas curtains framed
against the dark oak panels of my room. She stood
looking down upon me. Her hair was red gold, and
her eyes had all the sapphire tints of the world
stored in their depths. Her pale white face was oval
in shape and balanced perfectly upon a slender neck. Her
lips were sweetly curved, and her nose delicately shaped. As
she bent over me, I could see the rounded curve
of her bosom. One slim hand reached out and touched
my cheek. It was like the touch of a falling
rose petal. In my dream, I lay asleep, yet I
was conscious of this lovely creature. I watched her through
closed eyelids and held my breath, hoping she would kiss me.
It seemed as though I had never desired anything so much.
A half smile hovered on her lips, but her eyes
told me nothing. She leaned lower. A faint perfume pervaded
my senses, and then I felt her lips upon my forehead.
A great cold swept over me at her touch, swept
me down down into blackness, and I knew no more.
When I awoke, the sun was pouring through the opened curtains.
I reached for a cigarette. My first conscious thought, upon
awakening and not finding my case under the pillow, suddenly
realized my new surroundings. At the same time, I remembered
my dream. Rexler and his talk of a red haired
beauty is responsible for that, I thought. As I clapped
my hands. De Lacey came in so quickly I knew
he must have been waiting outside the door. He started
when he saw the curtain of my bed had been opened.
Did you not pull them? I asked. He shook his head.
I said no more, and the ceremony of my arising began.
When I had bathed in a great sunken tub. Fortunately
Diana de Poitier had had her daily bath in the
far off time. I sought Rexler to gather. We breakfasted,
and then I announced to De Lacey that we wished
to inspect the rest of the chateau. He led us
to the left wing and took us through Sweet after Sweet,
Beautifully furnished, the chateau was a veritable treasured house. An
antiquarian would have gone mad with delight. I noticed that
De Lacey avoided two heavily built doors opposite the ball
room when we returned from our tour. I stopped before them,
and here I asked the picture gallery, my lord. He
responded unwillingly and swung the doors open. There was an
unhappy expression on his face. The room was long and narrow,
and the walls, except for the windows, were lined with portraits.
He walked slowly down the length of the room, looking
at the portraits of the dead and gone race, the
former owners of the chateau. I asked De Lacey nodded Suddenly.
I looked at the part of the room facing the
door which he had entered. At first, we had been
too far away to distinguish anything about it, except that
there was only one large painting hanging in the center.
Now that I was nearer, I could see the painting,
and I caught my breath in astonishment, For there was
the portrait of the lady of my dream, smiling down
on me. Rerexler caught my arm. That's the girl, the
one I saw on the stairs. That is the portrait
of Eleaine, Mademoiselle de Harcour, daughter of the Lord of Harcour,
who owned this chateau. De Lacey's voice broke in. Brexler
and I exclaimed simultaneously, But I and she is. De
Lacey looked at us strangely. It is from her that
the chateau got its new name, Rougemont Red Mountain. Before
that it was called Hotel de Harcours. Mademoiselle Elaine was
very beautiful, as you can see messieurs, and she had
many suitors. At last, from among them she chose an
English lord, one of the discarded lovers, Black George. Le
George Noir vowed that she should not belong to the
Englishman or ever leave Rougemont. She laughed, Mademoiselle Elene and
her father, the Lord de Haucour, laughed too, for he
had many men at arms and was rich and powerful.
Black George did not laugh. He only set his lips grimly.
The wedding day came, and the beautiful Elene married the
English lord in the Great Hall. But just as he
took her in his arms for the nuptial kiss, there
arose a great noise outside. It was Black George attacking
the chateau. The English Lord, with Helene's kiss still warm
upon his lips, went forth to battle. There was a
fight such as these peaceful lands had never seen, and
the mountain ran red with blood. Black George was the victor.
He slew the Englishman, he slew the Lord of Hawcall,
and his men hacked to pieces the defenders of the chateau.
Black George, followed by his men, their swords red with blood,
came into the Great Hall, where Elene de haco sat
on the throne, her face whiter than her wedding dress.
Black George flung her lover's body at her feet, and
the women of the household, who were crouched about the
throne cried aloud with terror. The fair Eleine did not cry,
nor did she moan. She only looked straight at Black George,
and there was that in her gaze that silenced everyone
in the Great Hall. Even Black George stepped back a pace.
Then Elene de Hacour rose and went down to her love,
the English Lord for a brief moment had been her husband.
She knelt beside him and kissed his cold lips. Then
she took her wedding veil and laid it over his body.
All the while there was silence in the Great Hall
while men and women watched the slim girl say farewell
to the man she loved. They watched almost as though
they were under a spell. But as the veil fell
into place, Black George laughed a long laugh that rang
through the room. Then he turned to his followers and
cried loudly, The women are yours. Take them as you will,
all but the one who belongs to me. He gestured
toward Elaine and laughed again. Elaine de Harcour stood erect
and pointed her slender hand at Black George. Wait, she cried,
and there was a quality in her voice that made
her listeners tremble. I shall belong to no one until
my lover comes for me, And till he comes, Woe
to you, Black George, who are well named. Woe to
you and to all men, for I curse you with
a mighty curse, the curse of a broken heart. And
I curse all men for their black and bitter deeds.
Year after year, century after century. I will take my
vengeance for the wrongs I have suffered, and no man
shall be free until my lover comes again and we
find bliss together. And while the eyes of the whole
hall were riveted upon her, she plunged the dagger she
had taken from her lover's belt into her heart. For
a second she stood swaying. Then she crumpled and fell
beside the English lord. Black George caught her and held
her in his arms. My curse upon you, Black George,
she cried. Black George could also curse, never shall you
leave Rougemont to find your lover, and never shall he
come until and then his voice died away as her
head fell backward over his arm. The fair Elaine was
beyond his reach. For a minute more. The people in
the Great Hall were paralyzed by the force of the
terrible words that they had heard. But with the girl's
death they were released from the spell, and a fury
swept over the men. They rushed upon the women and
dragged them forth. Black George took Elaine's body and carried
it away, but where he buried her no one knew,
nor could any discover. For the next day he was
found in the great hall raving mad, and the people
said that Elaine's curse was a potent one, that already
it had greaped vengeance on the one who had wronged
her most. From that day the chateau was called Rougemont.
The u to Hawcus were all dead, and the place
fell into other hands. There grew up the rumor that
the chateau was haunted, that the fair Elaine roamed its halls,
cut off from her lover, doomed to stay within these
walls by Black George's curse. De Lacey's silent Wrexler and
I looked at the portrait. My own feelings were in
a turmoil. It had been a ghost's lips that had
touched me last night. Yet surely no ghosts could have
been so beautiful or seemed so real. Rerexler turned to me,
it would be the curse that has always been upon me,
that when I fell in love, it would be with
a ghost. His eyes were vivid, shining brightly in his
pale face. I knew when I saw her on the
stairway that I loved her. There is a rumor, said
De Lacey, that the man who sees the fair Elaine
will meet with some misadventure. Unless she gives him a kiss,
then he is protected from her wrath, I started, Rexler smiled,
she kissed me with her e. I am not afraid.
The fair Elaine makes men suffer to make up for
the wrong Black George did her. For years, she has
not been seen at Rougemont. Last night, when you described her,
I was afraid. My Lord de Lacey turned to me,
send your friend away. If she only looked at him
and smiled, there is a grave and deadly danger for him,
more deadly because it may be unexplainable. Men upon whom
the fair Helene has smiled have met strange deaths. As
Rexler looked up at the portrait, and inward light illumined
his countenance, I am not afraid, he repeated. There are
many deaths. There is the death of the spirit as
well as that of the body. I beg you to
go while there is time, friend of my Lord. There
was real feeling in De Lacey's voice. I too felt
afraid for Wrexler, the strange, unworldly feeling he had always had,
the pulling towards something he knew, not what made me
doubly fearful had the fair Elaine been calling to him
all this time across the world. For myself, I had
no fear. She had kissed me, and besides, even death
at her hands would have been preferable to never seeing
her again. In these last few minutes, I had realized
that I too was in love with Elaine, that I
could hardly wait for the night in hopes that she
might visit me again. Resolutely, I put my own feelings
in the background, for at the moment, Rexler was of
paramount importance. If there was anything in De Lacey's story,
and from my own experience I was sure there was.
Wrexler was in danger. I turned to him. If anything
happened to you, I could never forgive myself. Perhaps you'd
better go. I could arrange a trip for you and
later meet you. Somehow, De Lacey seemed one of us.
I had no hesitancy in speaking before him. He seemed
a part of my new life. With the strange suddenness
that comes on rare occasions, we were already friends. Wrexler
looked at me, then back at the portrait Elaine de Hawk,
her red hair gleaming, smiled down upon us. Before he spoke,
I knew what he would say, because in his place,
I would have said the same. Unless you kick me out,
I want to stay. I put my hand on Rexler's shoulder,
so be it. Come along, Let's see the library. Then
we'll know all of Rougemont. We've seen everything else. Wrenching
his eyes away from the portrait, Rexler followed us. The
library was beautiful, with paneled walls that had rows and
rows of books sunk in their depths. There was a long,
oaken table, and on the center of it stood a carved,
gilded box, the casket which held my father's letter. I
wished then that I could read it at once. I
wish now that I could have. But perhaps it is
better that I did not. At least things moved as
fates ordained, and the responsibility for what occurred was not mine.
The next three days were quiet, happy ones. Nothing occurred.
I had no ghostly visitant, and Wrexler saw nothing of Elaine.
Under De Lacey's expert guidance, we rode over the estate,
hunted with falcons, a pleasing sport which we both took
to our hearts. Mingled with my court, found the people
charming and highly cultivated. We took lessons and the old dances,
visited the manor houses. It was all very gay and amusing,
and I had no longing for the outside world, and
did not even go down to the lodge for news.
There were many details of the estate management that I
had to go into with De Lacey. We spent several
hours each morning going over the affairs of Rougemont. It
was virtually a small kingdom, and everything was referred to
me necessarily the time I spent with De Lacy on
such matters, Wrexler was alone. He had changed a great
deal since we had come to Rougemont. He had come alive,
and he threw himself into everything with a curious intensity.
He was like a person who has been very ill,
who suddenly finding himself better, and fearing it is only temporary,
clutches life with both hands. He devoted long hours to
reading the records of the deha Coors, until he knew
the family history as well as his own. I did
not mention Elaine, though there was seldom a moment when
she was out of my thoughts. I found myself watching
for her day and night, and I caught the same
tension in Rexler's eyes as he searched the shadows. The
third night she came again, not to me, but to Rexler,
And although he was my friend, I almost hated him
because he had seen her and I had not. He
told me the next morning, as we walked along the
lake shore, Jim, he said, suddenly I saw her. Last night.
She came to my room. She drew aside the curtains
of the bed and leaned over me. I can't describe
my sensations. It was almost as though life were suspended
in space, like a bridge over a timeless sea. I
had nothing to say. I knew so well how he felt.
She leaned closer and closer to me. Rexler went on.
Then she smiled, and before I could find my breath
to speak, she was gone. This is the second time
she smiled at me. I felt a nameless fear, as
though there was a threatening quality in those red lips.
She looked at me as though I might have been
black George himself. In that moment, all my envy was
swept away by anxiety for my friend. Indeed, I wished
she had kissed him, for then he would have been safe.
I started to speak to beg Rexler to leave, Rougemont.
But before the words could leave my mouth, I saw her.
She was standing in the path some distance away, directly
in line with my eyes, and she was shaking her
head impressively. I knew instantly what she meant. I was
not to send Wrexler away. He could not see her,
because at the moment he was facing me, his hand
on my arm, his fingers touching me were not quite steady.
It brought me back to reality. Rexler, I cried, you
could leave Rougemont. Her eyes clouded with anger. She looked
at me reproachfully, commandingly, as though I were dreaming. I
heard my own voice. I don't want you to go.
I would be lonely without you. Perhaps there is no danger,
Rexler looked at me curiously. There is a risk, I
know that, but I do not care. I am like
a man who has eaten a strange and terrible drug,
who knows the danger but cannot resist it. I will
stay beyond him. Elaine smiled a satisfied smile as she
looked at Rexler's broad back. It made me feel afraid.
Then suddenly her gaze swept me, and the smile changed
into a languorous one that promised all things. My heart
beat faster, and I forgot my fear. Rexler moved restlessly,
turning so that we were side by side. Even in
that second, Elaine had vanished. How I do not know.
One minute she was there, the next she was not.
We walked along slowly. Finally Rexler spoke, no matter what happens,
and I mean that widely, my friend, you are not
to regret for a little time. I have been happy.
I have come alive. I have loved, even though the
woman I love is a wraith. I have felt a
sensation I thought never to feel. If I could hold
her in my arms and press my lips to hers,
I would count the world well lost. I could say nothing,
because God pity me. I knew just how he felt.
The day slipped away quickly. I did not see Elaine again,
but Rexler did almost every day. He met her in
the rose garden, where they spent long hours. He told
me that she was always elusive, but at the same
time promising that some day she would be kinder. He
said her voice was like golden honey, and that without
her he could not face life. Once I saw them myself,
as I came from an interview with de Lacey. As
I approached the rose Garden through an opening in the arches,
I saw them sitting side by side on the marble bench,
and of the two, Elaine looked the more earthly, for
Rexler had grown paler and more ethereal every day. His
eyes were luminous as he looked at her adoringly. She
saw me first, and her lips curved sweetly. She rose
in a leisurely fashion, turned her back to me, and
dropped a low curtsey to Rexler. Then, while I still watched,
she extended one slender hand to him. He bent over it,
his lips touched its soft whiteness. A little laugh, like
the tinkle of silver bells, swept through the garden. Then
she was gone. Rexler stood like a man in a trance.
I came quickly forward. And we're playing with fire, I cried.
Rexler roused, you saw, I nodded. Have you ever seen
anything more beautiful? More lovely? I shook my head. I
am not afraid any more. She has promised me. But
what Elaine had promised it was not to know, for
Rexler's mouth shut with a snap. When I pressed him.
He shook his head Finally, he said, carefully, choosing his
words with a reluctance that was strange to him. To
me is to be granted something beyond the knowledge of
mortal man. I can tell you no more, but some
day you will know. There was an expression on his
face that transcended earth. The next night I spoke to
de Lacey and told him my fears. Rexler was spending
more and more time in the rose garden. I hardly
saw him, and he would not discuss anything with me.
Even at the stately elegantly served meals, he barely spoke.
He always seemed to be listening, waiting. De Lacey shared
my fears, but he suggested nothing to help. He has
been marked, my lord, he said gravely. We can only pray,
But even in prayers there is no refuge. For Elaine
is beyond such things. Surely, I began to remonstrate. The
power of evil is as strong as the power of good,
or at least there is little between them. Elaine herself
is bound fast by the hate of Black George curses live.
I knew that witness the lasting quality of the curses
and spells of the Egyptian priests. But Elaine was not evil,
I said as much. Delacey shook his head. She is
cut off from her lover. She does not feel kindly
toward men. Remember, she promised vengeance century after century that
day in the Great Hall. That night, in the silence
of my chamber, I called her name, Elaine, Elaine. I
flung my agonized summons into the night, but there was
no answer. I went over in my mind the tales
de Lacey had told me of the habit she had caused.
How one man cast himself down from the highest turret
crying her name. How another had been found dead in
the rose garden, horror frozen on his face. There were
still others who had looked upon her, and death or
madness came as the result. The more I thought of
these tales of terror, the more I feared for Rexler.
At last, I could stand no more. I thrust my
arms into the rich velvet robe that had taken the
place of my bath gown, and went to Rexler's room.
The guard stood back to let me pass. I did
not mean to wake him, but some inner foreboding made
me feel I must know that he was safe. As
I drew aside the curtains of his bed, I could
not entirely stifle the cry that came to my lips,
for the bed was empty, but upon the pillow lay
a small white rose. It was the kind they used
in funeral wreaths in France. My heart almost stopped beating
the rose garden, or perhaps the library, A more normal
thought struck me Rexler might have wanted to read. I
rushed into the hall to find De Lacey waiting for me,
Summoned by the guards. He held a silver candlestick in
which a tall white candle burned the library. I gasped,
that was nearest. We should try it first. De Lacey
knew my meaning. He had instantly grasped the situation, and
his face was white and tense. Together we descended the
curving stairway. Together we reached the library. Then, motioning De
Lacey behind me, I swung open the door. The room
was brightly illuminated, although not one of the candles had
been lit. In the middle of it stood Rexler with
Elaine in his arms. Their lips were close locked. It
was a picture that an artist would have delighted to paint.
The stiff crimson skirts of Eleain de Harcourt's gown stood
wide on either side, and Wrexler's blue doublet and hose
again them was in bold relief, his long over sleeves
edged with fur, hung gracefully. I could not speak. This
mating of man with ghost was almost more than my
poor mortal brain could bear. Yet with every atom of
my being, I wished that I could have been in
Rexler's place. I remembered the one chaste kiss I had
had from her, and I almost fainted at the thought
of possessing those lips for my own, as Rexler was doing.
Strangely enough, Mingled with this emotion was another, a feeling
of fear and anxiety for my friend. Cold horror that
froze my blood kept me rooted to the spot behind me.
De Lacey had fallen to his knees. I could hear
him repeating the Latin words of a prayer. All at
once I saw where the light was coming from. The
entire north wall, ordinarily lined with books, had gone. In
its stead was a stone wall, and in the center
of the wall was a low hung Gothic door, carved
and ornate. It was standing over open, and beyond was
a pale, luminous yellow mist. I could see nothing of
what else was behind the door, where the yellow haze
filled the entire space. It was like a golden fog,
and its radiance lighted the library with a strange, unearthly glow.
Its luminosity glowed upon Elaine and Wrexler like a spotlight.
For a moment, I thought, Rougemont de Lacey, everything of
the past weeks must have been a dream that I
was watching in a cinema of past days, all at
once before my astonished eyes. Elaine gently drew her lips
away from Wrexler's. She slipped from his arms and extended
her hands to him. Hum. I heard her say, Rexler
had been right. Her voice was like golden honey. It
was like the music of willow trees in early spring.
Rexler grasped her hands. For the first time I saw
his face. Joy transfigured it, such joy as I have
never seen before and never shall see again. Elaine moved backward,
slowly but surely, drawing him toward the little gothic door
that stood open. With her lips half parted, she whispered, humph, Rexler,
I cried. Suddenly he could not hear me. As he
looked into her eyes. He might have been a bird.
Charmed by a snake. Nothing could break the spell that
bound him. They were nearer the door. Each second brought
them closer to it. Now Elaine was on the other side.
The gold mist concentrated upon her until she looked like
a goddess in its eerie light. Rexler, Rexler. The words
tore through my throat. Rexler stepped over the threshold through
the golden mist. I saw him clasp Elaine in his
arms again. I saw her smile triumphantly at me as
she raised her lips to his. There was something in
her eyes that filled me with horror. The mists whirled
about them until I could barely discover the outlines of
their figures through its gleaming haze. Then the door swung
slowly shut. I awoke to feverish activity. Rexler, Rexler. I
shouted and rushed forward to the door. I grasped the
iron ring that hung in its center. I pulled on
it with all my might. When I found that it
resisted all my efforts, I began beating against the door itself.
Presently I felt myself being pulled away. There is no use,
my Lord de Lacey's voice was saying, The door is gone, gone,
I ejaculated, and even as I spoke, I saw what
he meant. The north wall of the library was lined
with books, as it had always been. I had been
beating upon them impotently. I looked down at my hands.
The knuckles were raw and bleeding, just as they would
have been from pounding on a heavy carved wooden door.
Delacey caught my meaning. The door was there, my lord.
It was the lost door, the door behind which black
Jawy George buried Elaine de Harcour. It has been lost
for centuries. I sank into a chair. Weekly For now,
the fact that I had lost Rexler, my friend, was paramount.
I will tear down the walls until I find it.
That has been done, my lord, and it has never
been found. It will never be found again. Only for
a brief moment, you and I have been granted a
glimpse of something we cannot understand. And Rexler, I groaned.
He was happy. De Lacey comforted. No matter what happened after,
he has had happiness such as I have never seen before.
My head pitched forward and I knew no more. Three
days later I was escorted to the library by De Lacey,
to whom since Wrexler's loss, I was more devoted than ever.
With great ceremony, I was given the key to the
gilded casket. Then left alone, seated in the great chair
before the oaken table, I unlocked the casket. It contained
many pages, closely written in my father's hand. In them
were instructions as to my future conduct, my care of Rougemont,
what he had done, and what he expected me to do.
But the lines that interested me most were these. I
bought Rougemont for your mother shortly after your birth, because
when riding through this country, she saw and loved it.
It was a purchase that cost me dear, for Rougemont
held a curse and an avenging spirit in the form
of a beautiful young girl who could not bear to
see others happiness. So my wife died. Two months after
your mother's death. I first saw La Belle Helene. We
fought a long battle, she and I, but I was strong,
my son, because I loved your mother. No other woman's
charms could lure me to my doom. Finally, I made
a bargain with the ghost. She hated modern things and
longed for Rougemont to be great again. I promised to
restore the chateau to its former splendor, to make it
just as it have been in her days. And in
return she promised immunity to me, and afterward to you
and to all my court. When I should have established it,
I restored Rougemont, I repeopled it. With her help and advice,
I have made it as it was in her own day.
She showed me the hidden treasure vaults of the Dehacurs
so that I would have enough money to purchase the
things she wanted. She too, has kept her bargain, for
I and my court have lived happily here, unmolested. Only
when an outsider came, or someone disobeyed or longed for
the outside world, has she wreaked vengeance. She has sworn
to give you the kiss that promises immunity the night
you come. Only beware my son, whom you bring here
from the world you know, and beware of the lovely
Elaine old man. As I am devoted to your mother's memory.
As I am, she can still make my pulses leap
above all things. If she shows you the lost door,
do not be tempted to cross its threshold, for that way,
unless you are the reincarnation of the Englishman annihilation lies.
There was more pages, more of other matters, but I
left them for another day. Alone there in the library,
I let my eyes wander to where the little Gothic
door had been. Had Rexler been the Englishman come back
to Earth to claim his bride? Could that account for
the strange, unsatisfied longings he had always had, his unearthly feelings,
his unlikeness to other people. Or was he black George
lured back to Rougement for Elaine's vengeance. I hope for
his sake that was not the explanation. That he and
Elaine would find bliss waiting for them behind the Lost Door,
and I would never see Elaine again. The days pass,
I do what my father set out for me to do.
I keep his bargain with the ghost of the fair Elaine.
I never leave Rougemont. I have no desire to, for
I am always hoping that some day I shall again
find the Lost Door. End up The Lost Door by
Dorothy Quick