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I am a teacher of music. I basically teach the techniques of the piano, but on odd occasions, I teach other instruments that it is in my power to teach. Usually, it is somewhat of a boring job with no spice or gusto. It is rewarding; however, when a person can use their abilities to play at a recital where in others are made happy. Most of the students that I teach live near the clustered city of Paris. There is one student, however, that does not. It was at her house that my tale begins.
Zoë Harlem lived on the outskirts of the city, in the most deserted area. The path taken to her home was one covered with hanging trees and overbrush. It was very troublesome in getting to the front steps week after week. On this particular day, the path was cleared of its rubbish. I found that somewhat strange, so I proceeded with care.
The house was huge and menacing. It was a castle of sorts and one where you would expect to see a moat full of alligators. There was no moat, but there was a massive lake in the back of the house where the willow-the-wisp could be seen dancing above the gloomy, dark waters. I cannot remember a time when the waters were clear.
The gargoyles located at either side of the front door still frightened me somewhat as I raised the heavy knocker to announce my presence. The butler, Harold, answered the door as usual. He offered a punctunary greeting. I, too, offered a salutation. All greetings over with, I entered the mansion.
"You can go in. Madame will be with you shortly," Harold said with fear in his usually calm voice.
That was a little strange, for I could never remember Harold showing any emotion in his voice. He had one of those voices that never betrayed any feeling. "Thank you," I said.
I opened the door to the music room. The gargantuan pipe organ sat must against the wall. It was like a monster with dozens of grinning stucco teeth waiting for its next victim. The shadow that it threw about the room added to the eerieness of the atmosphere. I hoped Zoë hurried, because I never like to be left in this room alone for very long.
After a brief period, Zoë finally arrived. "I should have sent a note to tell you not to come, for I fear I have not been able to practice this past week," she said laughing nervously.
"I see where that would present a problem. If you do not feel that you can play the literature you have been assigned, I will leave and come again next week," I said starting towards the door.
"No, wait," she said. "I believe I can do it." She then sat down at the organ.
I was wondering about the sudden change, but I said, "All right, begin with your scales."
She brought out more and more literature to learn. It took several hours to plow through the pieces she selected. Perhaps it was a stalling ploy, but I said nothing. It was very rare that a teacher encounters a student with so much enthusiasm. I believed it be a once in a lifetime chance, so I encouraged it with my silence.
She finished sight reading the pieces, and said, "Join me for tea."
"Tea?"
"Yes, I am British, and it’s one of those customs that it is hard to break."
"Well, I do have things to do in town today."
"You can’t spare an hour?"
I did not see why I could not. Besides, I was curious as to why she and Harold were behaving so strangely. I replied, "I suppose I could."
Gretel, the maid, brought in the silver service. She was trembling slightly and had some difficulty in bringing it in. I presumed it was because the weight it must have had. I thought it had to be real silver. What I did not do, however, was piece her behavior together with the other irregularities that had been occurring.
"Mademoiselle," Zoë began, "I am being suspected of a crime, against his Eminence, le Cardinal."
I could not understand why she was telling me this, but she continued. "That is why you cannot leave."
"What does this have to do with me?"
"Monsieur Timmons and Farach, from the Cardinal’s guards are here."
"They will keep me here?"
"Yes, I am sorry to make you a part of all this." She then continued, "Please do not get upset. It will be over eventually.
"Mademoiselle," a gentleman wearing the tunic of the guards said coming into the room, and a black cat followed him.
"Yes, Monsieur Timmons," Zoë said picking up the cat.
"Is this your accomplice in witchcraft?" the gentleman I presumed to be Farach asked following Timmons.
"Accomplice? Witchcraft?" I asked looking at Zoë. "I am no accomplice to whatever you refer to. If you would just let me leave…"
"Leave?" Farach asked himself. "Of course not."
"Cherie," Timmons continued, "this is what you would call a mousetrap. Though quite informal, we will apprehend Mademoiselle’s accomplice," he said as if he had already done so.
I was trapped. I had no idea as to why I was being accused. The only reason why I was here was to teach Zoë how to play the organ. I looked over at her. She sat with that black cat in her lap, absolutely mute. She offered no help from her dark corner.
"The Bastille has more than an ample amount of space for any practitioners of evil again the great Cardinal," Timmons said.
"Just admit your guilt," Farach coaxed.
"I have been trying to tell you for the better part of a day that I have absolutely nothing to do with this."
They would not listen; we were carted off to the Bastille. I was held in one of the better levels, while Zoë was cast away into the nether regions of the infamous jail. His Eminence has offered me a pardon. They told me of it last week. Today is supposed to be my day of release, so I sit here and wait.
Special Thanks To:
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