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Updated: April 30, 2025
Not one of the believers or unbelievers whether he elected for the souls of the martyred monks or for the Witches' Sabbath of Beelzebub had ever had the courage to venture among the shadows, and to seek during the solemn hours of night confirmation of the truth, in order to tell on the morrow whether the Chartreuse were haunted, and if haunted by whom.
She had loved at once the fine old château with its lichen-covered walls, its fine portcullis and crenelated towers, she had wept over the torn tapestries, the broken furniture, the family portraits which a rough and impious rabble had wilfully damaged, she had loved the wide sweep of the terrace walls, the views over the Isère and across the mountain range to the peaks of the Grande Chartreuse, but above all she had loved this sombre row of ilex trees, the broken fountain, the hush and peace which always lay over this secluded portion of the neglected garden.
Cherubini found a retreat at La Chartreuse, near Rouen, the country seat of his friend, the architect Louis. Here he lived in tranquillity, and composed several minor pieces and a three-act opera, never produced, but afterward worked over into "Ali Baba" and "Faniska."
But the school was removed in 1872 to an airier district at Godalming. Part of the old building is still used as a boys' day school. The word Charterhouse was the English name for a house of Carthusians, a very strict order of monks, whose first house was the Grande Chartreuse in France. Not far from the Charterhouse is Ely Place, with the beautiful old church of St. Ethelreda.
"And why don't you want me to go to the Chartreuse?" "I'm afraid something might happen to you." "What! So you believe in ghosts, do you?" he asked, looking fixedly into Amelie's eyes. Amelie lowered her glance, and Roland felt his sister's hand tremble in his.
He saw the Egyptian very clearly, with his little red cap and his dusky cheeks. Then, last of all, the man with the cigars and liqueurs wheeled his tray. A good cigar from the top tray, clipped and lit by the man's lamp. Then to choose from the half score of bottles on the lower tray. Chartreuse, Benedictine, better still, Grand Marmier. That really was all.
Suspicious persons have been seen prowling around the Chartreuse these last few days, and orders have been issued to take the greatest precautions." The young man shrugged his shoulders as if he considered such precautions useless, and, always in the same tone of command, said: "Have some one take my horse to the stable and conduct me to the council."
"Some one who probably does not know what fear is, my dear Branche-d'Or," said Morgan, who recognized in Cadoudal's messenger the same man whom they had received at the Chartreuse the night he himself arrived from Avignon. "I ask pardon on his behalf."
"The police never get anybody," said Farwell, pessimistically; for the change of topic bored him. "No, I suppose they don't," answered Mr. Shorter, cheerfully finishing his chartreuse, and fixing his eye on one of the coloured lithographs of lean horses on Cecil Grainger's wall. "I'd talk to Hugh, if I wasn't as much afraid of him as of Jim Jeffries. I don't want to see him ruin her career."
He walked about the room he did not drink any coffee, nor even a Chartreuse and she stood perfectly still. Then he came back to her, and suddenly clasped her in his arms, and passionately kissed her mouth. "Zara!" he murmured hoarsely. "Good God! do you think I am a stone! I tell you I love you madly. Are you not going to be kind to me and really be my wife?"
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