Phantom Manor (English version)

An unexpected help

Chelsea Manor, 1890

Tobias Lawrence startled when the blade of the rapier fell at only two centimeters from his arm, digging a deep nick in the balcony's wood. Ella took a few seconds to free her weapon, giving time to the butler to run to the stairs.

"Oh, wait a moment !" the young girl exclaimed.

"I will never be at your beck and call, milady !" Tobias threw. "It is far too dusty for me to bow before it !"

He jumped behind a buffet when Ella was about to lower her blade. The young girl had a cry of rage.

"You, however," the butler continued, "you risk to be soon in my hands !"

He heard the sword tinkle on the floor when the Lady threw it at the other side of the great hall. He scarcely had time to react : Ella had already jumped on him and was tackling him against the furniture, out of breath, her long red curls entangled in a charming disorder. Tobias couldn't help himslef, yet knowing that the young girl was using against him a more powerful weapon than all the rapiers of the world. He lost himself in the contemplation of her silver eyes and leaned to her to kiss her. At the very moment when his lips were about to touch hers, the Lady stepped aside and disappeared on the other side of the buffet. The butler let out a cry of frustration.

"Ella !" he cried, going after her. "You promised me !"

"I promised to let you do if you were able to make me totally powerless," the young girl replied. "And you didn't."

Tobias cracked a half smile, then rushed to her and grabbed her wrist before she had time to flee. He put a hand behind her neck and had just the time to steal her a kiss before she ran away. At this moment, someone knocked to the door. Ella raised her eyes to Heaven.

"Those clients who consider themselves omnipotents," she sighed.

She put on her long black coat to hide the trousers which were moulding her long and thin legs, and came open the door. A circled-eye and elegant man waited on the threshold, his coat raised above his head to protect himself from the flood which was falling outside. Ella considered himself a moment, as she used to do with her clients.

"Good evening, ma'am," the man said with a timid speech. "My name is Paul Frees, and I came to find you because of some personal problems... Someone strongly recommend me to see you and I..."

"Newspapers are much more appropriated," Ella interrupted.

Frees looked at her with widened eyes, stunned.

"But I don't want to make all this public," he answered.

"No, no," Ella got impatient, shaking her hand. "I wasn't talking about your problems, but about your coat. Newspapers are much more appropriated if you don't have any umbrella. Come, get in. I don't deal outside, it's far too dangerous."

She stepped aside to let Paul pass. He made a few prudent steps in the hall. Tobias immediatly came forward to take his coat and his hat.

"No cane ?" Ella asked. "It's quite regrettable. Canes are an excellent way to defend yourself... Tobias, this Russian tea George brought us back..." she added, turning to the butler.

"I take care of that immediatly," Tobias answered. "Library or study ?"

"Library. We'll move to the study if Mr. Frees doesn't mistake me for a psychiatrist or this kind of professional."

She invited Paul to follow her while Tobias disappeared behind a door under the grand staircase which deployed at the back of the hall. Te visitor observed his environment with a worried air. Nothing in the house indicated that Lady Ella Chelsea, the most hated investigator in England, was able to help him. Nothing except, perhaps, this rapier abandoned on the floor... Anyway, she seemed to have a strong character. A bit too much, whispered his conscience.

The library was huge. Paul stayed petrified on the threshold. He had never seen so many books, so many shelves in the same room. The volumes were classified by author, and one of them particularly caught Frees's attention : Alexander E. Chelsea.

"Did you know him ?" he asked pointing the golden plaque where the name was written.

Ella gave him a surprised look.

"He was my father," she answered.

"Your..."

Paul blinked, puzzled.

"Did you know he came to Thunder Mesa in 1865 ?" he enquired.

Ella's eyes widened. She silently formed the name of Thunder Mesa on her lips, then a large smile lightened her face. She threw her coat on a chair, ignoring Paul's strangled yell, and rushed to a shelve at the back of the room. Tobias came in, a tray with tea in his hands. He adressed a smile to Frees.

"You managed to catch her attention," he said. "That's a good beginning. Most of people take more than ten minutes to explain their problems."

"Thunder Mesa," merrily threw Ella while coming back to them, an enormous file in her hands. "Many newspaper clippings, but almost no testimony. Just my father's diary... Don't say a word, Mr. Frees, I know everything. However, I know nothing about what brings you here precisely now."

Paul thought he would hug the young girl. Instead, he let out a releavant sigh and an almost hysterical laughter.

"It's him, milady," he answered. "He became mad, completely mad. He persecutes us... He drew me to the manor, he tried to kill me, it was awful, awful !"

He was panicking. Ella grabbed his wrists firmly and brought him to an armchair, where he dropped, shaking like a leaf.

"Henry Ravenswood drew you to his house to kill you ?" she asked slowly.

Paul nodded. Tobias sneaked to Ella, worried.

"You never told me aout that," he whispered. "Who is Henry Ravenswood ?"

The young girl drew him aside.

"Henry Ravenswood was a rich American contractor," she answered in a low voice. "He exploited a gold mine, the Big Thunder Mountain, until an earthquake killed him in 1860.  According to my father, he came back from the dead to stop her daughter from marrying a mine worker and from fleeing with him. Now, he's prisoner of the terrestrial world and has only one idea in mind : escape from it. I'm afraid I'll must go to the Colorado to calm him down before he makes a new victim..."

She turned to Paul and adressed him a sypathetic smile.

"We'll go tomorrow, sir," she said. "I know someone working for Cunard who will bring us to New-York without tickets."