Chapter 16 The Mystery of the 99 Steps by Carolyn Keene
Followed!
The three girls sat petrified. There was nothing Nancy could do to avoid a collision. The other car was too close!
But with a loud screech of brakes its driver swerved sharply and managed to avoid a collision by barely an inch. Nancy’s car coasted across the road and stopped against an embankment. The shaken girls murmured a prayer of thanksgiving.
The man at the wheel of the other vehicle had stopped and now backed up. “Are you crazy?” he yelled at Nancy, his face red with anger. Then he went into a tirade in such rapid French that the girls could catch only part of what he was saying. They understood enough to learn he had had a dreadful scare also. “I ought to have you arrested!” he shouted.
Nancy started to apologize but did not get a chance to finish. The irate driver put his car into gear and sped off down the road.
Nancy turned shakily to the cousins. “Do you realize how lucky we were?” she said.
“Sure do,” George replied fervently. “What went wrong anyhow?”
Nancy told her that neither of the brakes would work. “I’d better move and not block the road.” She steered slowly back into the driveway and stopped by rolling against the sloping edge.
The Bardots had seen the narrow escape from a window and now came rushing out. “Thank goodness you are all right!” cried Madame Bardot. “What happened?”
Nancy told them quickly and at once Monsieur Bardot said, “Did you have any trouble with the car this morning?”
“None at all. It worked wonderfully.” She frowned. “I’m sure someone tampered with the brakes.”
“But when?” Bess asked.
“Probably during our search in the house,” Nancy replied. “I also think the person who did it was trying to keep me from investigating some ruin near Chambord, perhaps even the Chateau Loire.”
“Whom do you suspect? Louis Aubert?” George put in.
“Yes,” Nancy answered. “He probably came back here after the police left and eavesdropped on our conversation. When he heard what his brother had mumbled in his sleep and learned our plans, Louis decided he had better do something quick to stop us.”
“He must be a good mechanic to know how to damage brakes,” Bess commented.
Nancy reminded her that the man was supposed to be a scientist. If so, he probably had a technical knowledge of machinery. “A simple thing like letting air out of our car’s tires wouldn’t have delayed us long enough, so he chose something more important.”
Monsieur Bardot hurried indoors to telephone a service station. He returned with disappointing news. “They can send a man to pick up the car, but they cannot have it ready until tomorrow. If they tell me there was sabotage, I will report it to the police.”
Nancy smiled wanly. She did not say how bad she felt at having to give up the trip. Apparently the Bardots sensed this.
“You must take our automobile,” their host offered.
“Oh, thanks, but I couldn’t,” Nancy said. “You might need it.”
Madame Bardot smiled, saying they had many friends close by who would help them out in an emergency. “I think you girls are on the verge of making an important discovery,” she added. “We want you to go to Chambord. Perhaps you will solve the mystery of my sister’s strange dream.”
Nancy finally agreed. The baggage was transferred to the Bardots’ car, and once more the girls set off. Their recent harrowing experience was almost forgotten as the three gazed enchanted at the countryside on the way to Chateau Chambord. Due to a late spring, poppies still grew in profusion along the roadway and fields were dotted with marguerites and buttercups.
When they reached the town of Chambord, the girls soon realized why the main sightseeing attraction was the chateau. Nancy parked near it and the trio alighted, exclaiming in admiration and awe.
The castle-like building stood in the center of a park and was approached by a long walk. The main part of the building was three stories high and there were many towers. A pinnacle in the middle, shaped like a gigantic lantern, stood as high again as the chateau itself.
On either side of its main entrance, and at each corner of the vast front of the chateau, was a huge rounded tower that rose well above the roof.
“I can’t wait to see the interior!” Bess exclaimed.
But at the entrance, a guard told them, “Sorry, mesdemoiselles. The last tour of the day is just ending.”
Nancy glanced at her wrist watch. It was later than she had realized. Nevertheless, smiling beguilingly, she said, “Please, until the tour group gets back here, couldn’t we look around just a little?”
The guard softened. “I cannot let you go by yourselves,” he said, “but I will show you a few things.”
He let them in, locked the door, and led them straight ahead. When the girls saw the double spiral staircase of stone they gasped in wonder. The guard said with pride that the design was a unique one.
“You have to see it to believe it,” said Bess. “What period does it belong to?”
“The Renaissance. This staircase, and in fact the entire chateau, is one of the finest examples of Renaissance architecture. It was built by King Frances I. He was fond of hunting, and the woods here at that time were full of deer and wild boar. The monarch also loved art and brought it to a high degree of perfection in France.”
The group climbed to the second floor and he showed them several rooms. The girls agreed with their guide—the decor, although ornate, was in excellent taste.
The man grinned. “You might be glad not to see everything here—this chateau has 440 rooms, 13 large staircases, and stall for 1200 horses.”
Bess exclaimed, “Think of all the servants and gardeners and grooms King Frances I must have had to take care of his home!”
The guide laughed. “You are right, mademoiselle. But in those days, a king was a king, and he had to have an extensive retinue!”
Regretfully the girls followed him back to the first floor. At the entrance Nancy thanked the man for the “special” tour, then asked if there were any ruins on the property.
“No,” he answered. “You can see this place is very well kept. There are, however, a couple of ruins in the town—and, of course, some are scattered around the countryside.”
The girls decided to walk through the streets of Chambord. They had not gone far before Bess complained, “I have the strangest feeling we’re being watched. It makes me nervous.”
Nancy had paid little attention. She was too busy absorbing the atmosphere of the chateau town. But presently she became aware that two young boys had come from one of the houses across the street and seemed to be trailing the girls. Whispering to her friends, Nancy suddenly did an about-face. Bess and George did the same, and the three girls started in the opposite direction. The two boys stopped, and after a momentary conference, they also turned and once more kept pace with the girls.
“I’ll bet they’re purse snatchers,” Bess said fearfully. “Hold on to your bags.”
Nancy did so, but her mind was suddenly running in another direction. Hunting for the ruins to which Claude Aubert had referred was like looking for a needle in a haystack. The young detective decided to concentrate first on learning if there were a chemist in the neighborhood. If so, he might be Louis Aubert!
Excusing herself, Nancy hurried into a pharmacy. To her annoyance, the two boys followed her inside! In a low voice she put her question to a white-coated man who came forward.
But his answer could be heard by everyone in the place. “I do not know any chemist who lives around here. Why do you ask?”
Nancy thought quickly. She must think up an excuse!
“I am interested in chemistry,” she said. “And I believe a brilliant chemist lives somewhere in this vicinity.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy could perceive that the two boys seemed to lose interest in the conversation.
“I am sorry. I cannot help you,” the druggist said.
Nancy bought some hard candy, then left the shop. When she reached the sidewalk, the boys were standing halfway up the block, apparently debating between themselves whether or not to continue following the girls.
Apparently they decided not to and turned in the opposite direction. For an instant Nancy was tempted to ask them what they were trying to find out. But she refrained. The boys might have been engaged as spies by some enemy of hers. “It would be better to leave well enough alone,” she thought.
As the three walked back toward the main street, Nancy asked a passer-by if there were any interesting ruins outside town.
“Oui, mademoiselle,” the friendly man replied. “Chateau Loire. I would advise you young ladies not to go there alone now. You had better take a strong male escort with you. The ruins are some distance from the road and the access is difficult. Besides, it is rumored that tramps are living among them.”
Bess spoke up promptly. “Definitely we’re not going there. Nancy, I can’t let you take such awful chances. Your father would never forgive me and George.”
The man to whom they were talking smiled. “Ah! Oui! A most sensible decision.”
Nancy thanked him for the information and words of caution. She and her friends walked on to their car. Just as Nancy started the motor, a white sports sedan roared down the main street. The girls were close enough to catch a good glimpse of the driver.
“Monsieur Leblanc!” George cried out.
“It certainly is!” said Nancy, swinging the car into the road. “Let’s follow him!”