#m_charolais — Public Fediverse posts

Maurice Leblanc - Arsene Lupin Part 22 of 99

CHAPTER VI AGAIN THE CHAROLAIS

Hardly had the door closed behind the millionaire when the head of M. Charolais appeared at one of the windows opening on to the terrace. He looked round the empty hall, whistled softly, and stepped inside. Inside of ten seconds his three sons came in through the windows, and with them came Jean, the millionaire’s chauffeur.
“Take the door into the outer hall, Jean,” said M. Charolais, in a low voice. “Bernard, take that door into the drawing-room. Pierre and Louis, help me go through the drawers. The whole family is going to Paris, and if we’re not quick we shan’t get the cars.”
“That comes of this silly fondness for warning people of a coup,” growled Jean, as he hurried to the door of the outer hall. “It would have been so simple to rob the Paris house without sending that infernal letter. It was sure to knock them all silly.”
“What harm can the letter do, you fool?” said M. Charolais. “It’s Sunday. We want them knocked silly for to-morrow, to get hold of the coronet. Oh, to get hold of that coronet! It must be in Paris. I’ve been ransacking this château for hours.”
Jean opened the door of the outer hall half an inch, and glued his eyes to it. Bernard had done the same with the door opening into the drawing-room. M. Charolais, Pierre, and Louis were opening drawers, ransacking them, and shutting them with infinite quickness and noiselessly.
“Bureau! Which is the bureau? The place is stuffed with bureaux!” growled M. Charolais. “I must have those keys.”
“That plain thing with the brass handles in the middle on the left—that’s a bureau,” said Bernard softly.
“Why didn’t you say so?” growled M. Charolais.
He dashed to it, and tried it. It was locked.
“Locked, of course! Just my luck! Come and get it open, Pierre. Be smart!”
The son he had described as an engineer came quickly to the bureau, fitting together as he came the two halves of a small jemmy. He fitted it into the top of the flap. There was a crunch, and the old lock gave. He opened the flap, and he and M. Charolais pulled open drawer after drawer.
“Quick! Here’s that fat old fool!” said Jean, in a hoarse, hissing whisper.
He moved down the hall, blowing out one of the lamps as he passed it. In the seventh drawer lay a bunch of keys. M. Charolais snatched it up, glanced at it, took a bunch of keys from his own pocket, put it in the drawer, closed it, closed the flap, and rushed to the window. Jean and his sons were already out on the terrace.
M. Charolais was still a yard from the window when the door into the outer hall opened and in came M. Gournay-Martin.
He caught a glimpse of a back vanishing through the window, and bellowed: “Hi! A man! A burglar! Firmin! Firmin!”
He ran blundering down the hall, tangled his feet in the fragments of the broken chair, and came sprawling a thundering cropper, which knocked every breath of wind out of his capacious body. He lay flat on his face for a couple of minutes, his broad back wriggling convulsively—a pathetic sight!—in the painful effort to get his breath back. Then he sat up, and with perfect frankness burst into tears. He sobbed and blubbered, like a small child that has hurt itself, for three or four minutes. Then, having recovered his magnificent voice, he bellowed furiously: “Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!”
Then he rose painfully to his feet, and stood staring at the open windows.
Presently he roared again: “Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!”
He kept looking at the window with terrified eyes, as though he expected somebody to step in and cut his throat from ear to ear.
“Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!” he bellowed again.
The Duke came quietly into the hall, dressed in a heavy motor-coat, his motor-cap on his head, and carrying a kit-bag in his hand.
“Did I hear you call?” he said.
“Call?” said the millionaire. “I shouted. The burglars are here already. I’ve just seen one of them. He was bolting through the middle window.”
The Duke raised his eyebrows.
“Nerves,” he said gently—“nerves.”
“Nerves be hanged!” said the millionaire. “I tell you I saw him as plainly as I see you.”
“Well, you can’t see me at all, seeing that you’re lighting an acre and a half of hall with a single lamp,” said the Duke, still in a tone of utter incredulity.
“It’s that fool Firmin! He ought to have lighted six. Firmin! Firmin!” bellowed the millionaire.

#CHAROLAIS #M_Charolais #Jean #Bernard #Pierre #Louis #Paris #M_Gournay-Martin #Firmin #Charmerace #ArseneLupin #MauriceLeBlanc #mystery #booktoot

Maurice Leblanc - Arsene Lupin Part 22 of 99

CHAPTER VI AGAIN THE CHAROLAIS

Hardly had the door closed behind the millionaire when the head of M. Charolais appeared at one of the windows opening on to the terrace. He looked round the empty hall, whistled softly, and stepped inside. Inside of ten seconds his three sons came in through the windows, and with them came Jean, the millionaire’s chauffeur.
“Take the door into the outer hall, Jean,” said M. Charolais, in a low voice. “Bernard, take that door into the drawing-room. Pierre and Louis, help me go through the drawers. The whole family is going to Paris, and if we’re not quick we shan’t get the cars.”
“That comes of this silly fondness for warning people of a coup,” growled Jean, as he hurried to the door of the outer hall. “It would have been so simple to rob the Paris house without sending that infernal letter. It was sure to knock them all silly.”
“What harm can the letter do, you fool?” said M. Charolais. “It’s Sunday. We want them knocked silly for to-morrow, to get hold of the coronet. Oh, to get hold of that coronet! It must be in Paris. I’ve been ransacking this château for hours.”
Jean opened the door of the outer hall half an inch, and glued his eyes to it. Bernard had done the same with the door opening into the drawing-room. M. Charolais, Pierre, and Louis were opening drawers, ransacking them, and shutting them with infinite quickness and noiselessly.
“Bureau! Which is the bureau? The place is stuffed with bureaux!” growled M. Charolais. “I must have those keys.”
“That plain thing with the brass handles in the middle on the left—that’s a bureau,” said Bernard softly.
“Why didn’t you say so?” growled M. Charolais.
He dashed to it, and tried it. It was locked.
“Locked, of course! Just my luck! Come and get it open, Pierre. Be smart!”
The son he had described as an engineer came quickly to the bureau, fitting together as he came the two halves of a small jemmy. He fitted it into the top of the flap. There was a crunch, and the old lock gave. He opened the flap, and he and M. Charolais pulled open drawer after drawer.
“Quick! Here’s that fat old fool!” said Jean, in a hoarse, hissing whisper.
He moved down the hall, blowing out one of the lamps as he passed it. In the seventh drawer lay a bunch of keys. M. Charolais snatched it up, glanced at it, took a bunch of keys from his own pocket, put it in the drawer, closed it, closed the flap, and rushed to the window. Jean and his sons were already out on the terrace.
M. Charolais was still a yard from the window when the door into the outer hall opened and in came M. Gournay-Martin.
He caught a glimpse of a back vanishing through the window, and bellowed: “Hi! A man! A burglar! Firmin! Firmin!”
He ran blundering down the hall, tangled his feet in the fragments of the broken chair, and came sprawling a thundering cropper, which knocked every breath of wind out of his capacious body. He lay flat on his face for a couple of minutes, his broad back wriggling convulsively—a pathetic sight!—in the painful effort to get his breath back. Then he sat up, and with perfect frankness burst into tears. He sobbed and blubbered, like a small child that has hurt itself, for three or four minutes. Then, having recovered his magnificent voice, he bellowed furiously: “Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!”
Then he rose painfully to his feet, and stood staring at the open windows.
Presently he roared again: “Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!”
He kept looking at the window with terrified eyes, as though he expected somebody to step in and cut his throat from ear to ear.
“Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!” he bellowed again.
The Duke came quietly into the hall, dressed in a heavy motor-coat, his motor-cap on his head, and carrying a kit-bag in his hand.
“Did I hear you call?” he said.
“Call?” said the millionaire. “I shouted. The burglars are here already. I’ve just seen one of them. He was bolting through the middle window.”
The Duke raised his eyebrows.
“Nerves,” he said gently—“nerves.”
“Nerves be hanged!” said the millionaire. “I tell you I saw him as plainly as I see you.”
“Well, you can’t see me at all, seeing that you’re lighting an acre and a half of hall with a single lamp,” said the Duke, still in a tone of utter incredulity.
“It’s that fool Firmin! He ought to have lighted six. Firmin! Firmin!” bellowed the millionaire.

#CHAROLAIS #M_Charolais #Jean #Bernard #Pierre #Louis #Paris #M_Gournay-Martin #Firmin #Charmerace #ArseneLupin #MauriceLeBlanc #mystery #booktoot

Maurice Leblanc - Arsene Lupin Part 22 of 99

CHAPTER VI AGAIN THE CHAROLAIS

Hardly had the door closed behind the millionaire when the head of M. Charolais appeared at one of the windows opening on to the terrace. He looked round the empty hall, whistled softly, and stepped inside. Inside of ten seconds his three sons came in through the windows, and with them came Jean, the millionaire’s chauffeur.
“Take the door into the outer hall, Jean,” said M. Charolais, in a low voice. “Bernard, take that door into the drawing-room. Pierre and Louis, help me go through the drawers. The whole family is going to Paris, and if we’re not quick we shan’t get the cars.”
“That comes of this silly fondness for warning people of a coup,” growled Jean, as he hurried to the door of the outer hall. “It would have been so simple to rob the Paris house without sending that infernal letter. It was sure to knock them all silly.”
“What harm can the letter do, you fool?” said M. Charolais. “It’s Sunday. We want them knocked silly for to-morrow, to get hold of the coronet. Oh, to get hold of that coronet! It must be in Paris. I’ve been ransacking this château for hours.”
Jean opened the door of the outer hall half an inch, and glued his eyes to it. Bernard had done the same with the door opening into the drawing-room. M. Charolais, Pierre, and Louis were opening drawers, ransacking them, and shutting them with infinite quickness and noiselessly.
“Bureau! Which is the bureau? The place is stuffed with bureaux!” growled M. Charolais. “I must have those keys.”
“That plain thing with the brass handles in the middle on the left—that’s a bureau,” said Bernard softly.
“Why didn’t you say so?” growled M. Charolais.
He dashed to it, and tried it. It was locked.
“Locked, of course! Just my luck! Come and get it open, Pierre. Be smart!”
The son he had described as an engineer came quickly to the bureau, fitting together as he came the two halves of a small jemmy. He fitted it into the top of the flap. There was a crunch, and the old lock gave. He opened the flap, and he and M. Charolais pulled open drawer after drawer.
“Quick! Here’s that fat old fool!” said Jean, in a hoarse, hissing whisper.
He moved down the hall, blowing out one of the lamps as he passed it. In the seventh drawer lay a bunch of keys. M. Charolais snatched it up, glanced at it, took a bunch of keys from his own pocket, put it in the drawer, closed it, closed the flap, and rushed to the window. Jean and his sons were already out on the terrace.
M. Charolais was still a yard from the window when the door into the outer hall opened and in came M. Gournay-Martin.
He caught a glimpse of a back vanishing through the window, and bellowed: “Hi! A man! A burglar! Firmin! Firmin!”
He ran blundering down the hall, tangled his feet in the fragments of the broken chair, and came sprawling a thundering cropper, which knocked every breath of wind out of his capacious body. He lay flat on his face for a couple of minutes, his broad back wriggling convulsively—a pathetic sight!—in the painful effort to get his breath back. Then he sat up, and with perfect frankness burst into tears. He sobbed and blubbered, like a small child that has hurt itself, for three or four minutes. Then, having recovered his magnificent voice, he bellowed furiously: “Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!”
Then he rose painfully to his feet, and stood staring at the open windows.
Presently he roared again: “Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!”
He kept looking at the window with terrified eyes, as though he expected somebody to step in and cut his throat from ear to ear.
“Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!” he bellowed again.
The Duke came quietly into the hall, dressed in a heavy motor-coat, his motor-cap on his head, and carrying a kit-bag in his hand.
“Did I hear you call?” he said.
“Call?” said the millionaire. “I shouted. The burglars are here already. I’ve just seen one of them. He was bolting through the middle window.”
The Duke raised his eyebrows.
“Nerves,” he said gently—“nerves.”
“Nerves be hanged!” said the millionaire. “I tell you I saw him as plainly as I see you.”
“Well, you can’t see me at all, seeing that you’re lighting an acre and a half of hall with a single lamp,” said the Duke, still in a tone of utter incredulity.
“It’s that fool Firmin! He ought to have lighted six. Firmin! Firmin!” bellowed the millionaire.

#CHAROLAIS #M_Charolais #Jean #Bernard #Pierre #Louis #Paris #M_Gournay-Martin #Firmin #Charmerace #ArseneLupin #MauriceLeBlanc #mystery #booktoot

Maurice Leblanc - Arsene Lupin Part 16 of 99

As she spoke she moved towards the door. M. Charolais and his sons rose and made way for her. The father and the two eldest sons made haste to follow her out of the room. But Bernard lingered behind, apparently to admire the bric-a-brac on the cabinets. With infinite quickness he grabbed two objects off the nearest, and followed his brothers. The Duke sprang across the hall in three strides, caught him by the arm on the very threshold, jerked him back into the hall, and shut the door.
“No you don’t, my young friend,” he said sharply.
“Don’t what?” said Bernard, trying to shake off his grip.
“You’ve taken a cigarette-case,” said the Duke.
“No, no, I haven’t—nothing of the kind!” stammered Bernard.
The Duke grasped the young man’s left wrist, plunged his hand into the motor-cap which he was carrying, drew out of it a silver cigarette-case, and held it before his eyes.
Bernard turned pale to the lips. His frightened eyes seemed about to leap from their sockets.
“It—it—was a m-m-m-mistake,” he stammered.
The Duke shifted his grip to his collar, and thrust his hand into the breast-pocket of his coat. Bernard, helpless in his grip, and utterly taken aback by his quickness, made no resistance.
The Duke drew out a morocco case, and said: “Is this a mistake too?”
“Heavens! The pendant!” cried Sonia, who was watching the scene with parted lips and amazed eyes.
Bernard dropped on his knees and clasped his hands.
“Forgive me!” he cried, in a choking voice. “Forgive me! Don’t tell any one! For God’s sake, don’t tell any one!”
And the tears came streaming from his eyes.
“You young rogue!” said the Duke quietly.
“I’ll never do it again—never! Oh, have pity on me! If my father knew! Oh, let me off!” cried Bernard.
The Duke hesitated, and looked down on him, frowning and pulling at his moustache. Then, more quickly than one would have expected from so careless a trifler, his mind was made up.
“All right,” he said slowly. “Just for this once ... be off with you.” And he jerked him to his feet and almost threw him into the outer hall.
“Thanks! ... oh, thanks!” said Bernard.
The Duke shut the door and looked at Sonia, breathing quickly.
“Well? Did you ever see anything like that? That young fellow will go a long way. The cheek of the thing! Right under our very eyes! And this pendant, too: it would have been a pity to lose it. Upon my word, I ought to have handed him over to the police.”
“No, no!” cried Sonia. “You did quite right to let him off—quite right.”
The Duke set the pendant on the ledge of the bureau, and came down the hall to Sonia.
“What’s the matter?” he said gently. “You’re quite pale.”
“It has upset me ... that unfortunate boy,” said Sonia; and her eyes were swimming with tears.
“Do you pity the young rogue?” said the Duke.
“Yes; it’s dreadful. His eyes were so terrified, and so boyish. And, to be caught like that ... stealing ... in the act. Oh, it’s hateful!”
“Come, come, how sensitive you are!” said the Duke, in a soothing, almost caressing tone. His eyes, resting on her charming, troubled face, were glowing with a warm admiration.
“Yes; it’s silly,” said Sonia; “but you noticed his eyes—the hunted look in them? You pitied him, didn’t you? For you are kind at bottom.”
“Why at bottom?” said the Duke.
“Oh, I said at bottom because you look sarcastic, and at first sight you’re so cold. But often that’s only the mask of those who have suffered the most.... They are the most indulgent,” said Sonia slowly, hesitating, picking her words.
“Yes, I suppose they are,” said the Duke thoughtfully.
“It’s because when one has suffered one understands.... Yes: one understands,” said Sonia.
There was a pause. The Duke’s eyes still rested on her face. The admiration in them was mingled with compassion.
“You’re very unhappy here, aren’t you?” he said gently.
“Me? Why?” said Sonia quickly.
“Your smile is so sad, and your eyes so timid,” said the Duke slowly. “You’re just like a little child one longs to protect. Are you quite alone in the world?”
His eyes and tones were full of pity; and a faint flush mantled Sonia’s cheeks.
“Yes, I’m alone,” she said.
“But have you no relations—no friends?” said the Duke.
“No,” said Sonia.
“I don’t mean here in France, but in your own country.... Surely you have some in Russia?”
“No, not a soul. You see, my father was a Revolutionist. He died in Siberia when I was a baby. And my mother, she died too—in Paris. She had fled from Russia. I was two years old when she died.”

#M_Charolais #Bernard #Sonia #Duke #France #Russia #Revolutionist #Siberia #Paris #ArseneLupin #MauriceLeBlanc #mystery #booktoot

Maurice Leblanc - Arsene Lupin Part 16 of 99

As she spoke she moved towards the door. M. Charolais and his sons rose and made way for her. The father and the two eldest sons made haste to follow her out of the room. But Bernard lingered behind, apparently to admire the bric-a-brac on the cabinets. With infinite quickness he grabbed two objects off the nearest, and followed his brothers. The Duke sprang across the hall in three strides, caught him by the arm on the very threshold, jerked him back into the hall, and shut the door.
“No you don’t, my young friend,” he said sharply.
“Don’t what?” said Bernard, trying to shake off his grip.
“You’ve taken a cigarette-case,” said the Duke.
“No, no, I haven’t—nothing of the kind!” stammered Bernard.
The Duke grasped the young man’s left wrist, plunged his hand into the motor-cap which he was carrying, drew out of it a silver cigarette-case, and held it before his eyes.
Bernard turned pale to the lips. His frightened eyes seemed about to leap from their sockets.
“It—it—was a m-m-m-mistake,” he stammered.
The Duke shifted his grip to his collar, and thrust his hand into the breast-pocket of his coat. Bernard, helpless in his grip, and utterly taken aback by his quickness, made no resistance.
The Duke drew out a morocco case, and said: “Is this a mistake too?”
“Heavens! The pendant!” cried Sonia, who was watching the scene with parted lips and amazed eyes.
Bernard dropped on his knees and clasped his hands.
“Forgive me!” he cried, in a choking voice. “Forgive me! Don’t tell any one! For God’s sake, don’t tell any one!”
And the tears came streaming from his eyes.
“You young rogue!” said the Duke quietly.
“I’ll never do it again—never! Oh, have pity on me! If my father knew! Oh, let me off!” cried Bernard.
The Duke hesitated, and looked down on him, frowning and pulling at his moustache. Then, more quickly than one would have expected from so careless a trifler, his mind was made up.
“All right,” he said slowly. “Just for this once ... be off with you.” And he jerked him to his feet and almost threw him into the outer hall.
“Thanks! ... oh, thanks!” said Bernard.
The Duke shut the door and looked at Sonia, breathing quickly.
“Well? Did you ever see anything like that? That young fellow will go a long way. The cheek of the thing! Right under our very eyes! And this pendant, too: it would have been a pity to lose it. Upon my word, I ought to have handed him over to the police.”
“No, no!” cried Sonia. “You did quite right to let him off—quite right.”
The Duke set the pendant on the ledge of the bureau, and came down the hall to Sonia.
“What’s the matter?” he said gently. “You’re quite pale.”
“It has upset me ... that unfortunate boy,” said Sonia; and her eyes were swimming with tears.
“Do you pity the young rogue?” said the Duke.
“Yes; it’s dreadful. His eyes were so terrified, and so boyish. And, to be caught like that ... stealing ... in the act. Oh, it’s hateful!”
“Come, come, how sensitive you are!” said the Duke, in a soothing, almost caressing tone. His eyes, resting on her charming, troubled face, were glowing with a warm admiration.
“Yes; it’s silly,” said Sonia; “but you noticed his eyes—the hunted look in them? You pitied him, didn’t you? For you are kind at bottom.”
“Why at bottom?” said the Duke.
“Oh, I said at bottom because you look sarcastic, and at first sight you’re so cold. But often that’s only the mask of those who have suffered the most.... They are the most indulgent,” said Sonia slowly, hesitating, picking her words.
“Yes, I suppose they are,” said the Duke thoughtfully.
“It’s because when one has suffered one understands.... Yes: one understands,” said Sonia.
There was a pause. The Duke’s eyes still rested on her face. The admiration in them was mingled with compassion.
“You’re very unhappy here, aren’t you?” he said gently.
“Me? Why?” said Sonia quickly.
“Your smile is so sad, and your eyes so timid,” said the Duke slowly. “You’re just like a little child one longs to protect. Are you quite alone in the world?”
His eyes and tones were full of pity; and a faint flush mantled Sonia’s cheeks.
“Yes, I’m alone,” she said.
“But have you no relations—no friends?” said the Duke.
“No,” said Sonia.
“I don’t mean here in France, but in your own country.... Surely you have some in Russia?”
“No, not a soul. You see, my father was a Revolutionist. He died in Siberia when I was a baby. And my mother, she died too—in Paris. She had fled from Russia. I was two years old when she died.”

#M_Charolais #Bernard #Sonia #Duke #France #Russia #Revolutionist #Siberia #Paris #ArseneLupin #MauriceLeBlanc #mystery #booktoot

Maurice Leblanc - Arsene Lupin Part 16 of 99

As she spoke she moved towards the door. M. Charolais and his sons rose and made way for her. The father and the two eldest sons made haste to follow her out of the room. But Bernard lingered behind, apparently to admire the bric-a-brac on the cabinets. With infinite quickness he grabbed two objects off the nearest, and followed his brothers. The Duke sprang across the hall in three strides, caught him by the arm on the very threshold, jerked him back into the hall, and shut the door.
“No you don’t, my young friend,” he said sharply.
“Don’t what?” said Bernard, trying to shake off his grip.
“You’ve taken a cigarette-case,” said the Duke.
“No, no, I haven’t—nothing of the kind!” stammered Bernard.
The Duke grasped the young man’s left wrist, plunged his hand into the motor-cap which he was carrying, drew out of it a silver cigarette-case, and held it before his eyes.
Bernard turned pale to the lips. His frightened eyes seemed about to leap from their sockets.
“It—it—was a m-m-m-mistake,” he stammered.
The Duke shifted his grip to his collar, and thrust his hand into the breast-pocket of his coat. Bernard, helpless in his grip, and utterly taken aback by his quickness, made no resistance.
The Duke drew out a morocco case, and said: “Is this a mistake too?”
“Heavens! The pendant!” cried Sonia, who was watching the scene with parted lips and amazed eyes.
Bernard dropped on his knees and clasped his hands.
“Forgive me!” he cried, in a choking voice. “Forgive me! Don’t tell any one! For God’s sake, don’t tell any one!”
And the tears came streaming from his eyes.
“You young rogue!” said the Duke quietly.
“I’ll never do it again—never! Oh, have pity on me! If my father knew! Oh, let me off!” cried Bernard.
The Duke hesitated, and looked down on him, frowning and pulling at his moustache. Then, more quickly than one would have expected from so careless a trifler, his mind was made up.
“All right,” he said slowly. “Just for this once ... be off with you.” And he jerked him to his feet and almost threw him into the outer hall.
“Thanks! ... oh, thanks!” said Bernard.
The Duke shut the door and looked at Sonia, breathing quickly.
“Well? Did you ever see anything like that? That young fellow will go a long way. The cheek of the thing! Right under our very eyes! And this pendant, too: it would have been a pity to lose it. Upon my word, I ought to have handed him over to the police.”
“No, no!” cried Sonia. “You did quite right to let him off—quite right.”
The Duke set the pendant on the ledge of the bureau, and came down the hall to Sonia.
“What’s the matter?” he said gently. “You’re quite pale.”
“It has upset me ... that unfortunate boy,” said Sonia; and her eyes were swimming with tears.
“Do you pity the young rogue?” said the Duke.
“Yes; it’s dreadful. His eyes were so terrified, and so boyish. And, to be caught like that ... stealing ... in the act. Oh, it’s hateful!”
“Come, come, how sensitive you are!” said the Duke, in a soothing, almost caressing tone. His eyes, resting on her charming, troubled face, were glowing with a warm admiration.
“Yes; it’s silly,” said Sonia; “but you noticed his eyes—the hunted look in them? You pitied him, didn’t you? For you are kind at bottom.”
“Why at bottom?” said the Duke.
“Oh, I said at bottom because you look sarcastic, and at first sight you’re so cold. But often that’s only the mask of those who have suffered the most.... They are the most indulgent,” said Sonia slowly, hesitating, picking her words.
“Yes, I suppose they are,” said the Duke thoughtfully.
“It’s because when one has suffered one understands.... Yes: one understands,” said Sonia.
There was a pause. The Duke’s eyes still rested on her face. The admiration in them was mingled with compassion.
“You’re very unhappy here, aren’t you?” he said gently.
“Me? Why?” said Sonia quickly.
“Your smile is so sad, and your eyes so timid,” said the Duke slowly. “You’re just like a little child one longs to protect. Are you quite alone in the world?”
His eyes and tones were full of pity; and a faint flush mantled Sonia’s cheeks.
“Yes, I’m alone,” she said.
“But have you no relations—no friends?” said the Duke.
“No,” said Sonia.
“I don’t mean here in France, but in your own country.... Surely you have some in Russia?”
“No, not a soul. You see, my father was a Revolutionist. He died in Siberia when I was a baby. And my mother, she died too—in Paris. She had fled from Russia. I was two years old when she died.”

#M_Charolais #Bernard #Sonia #Duke #France #Russia #Revolutionist #Siberia #Paris #ArseneLupin #MauriceLeBlanc #mystery #booktoot

Maurice Leblanc - Arsene Lupin Part 15 of 99

CHAPTER IV THE DUKE INTERVENES

The Duke rose, came to the window, and looked at the broken pane. He stepped out on to the terrace and looked at the turf; then he came back into the room.
“This looks serious,” he said. “That pane has not been broken at all. If it had been broken, the pieces of glass would be lying on the turf. It has been cut out. We must warn your father to look to his treasures.”
“I told you so,” said Germaine. “I said that Arsène Lupin was in the neighbourhood.”
“Arsène Lupin is a very capable man,” said the Duke, smiling. “But there’s no reason to suppose that he’s the only burglar in France or even in Ile-et-Vilaine.”
“I’m sure that he’s in the neighbourhood. I have a feeling that he is,” said Germaine stubbornly.
The Duke shrugged his shoulders, and said a smile: “Far be it from me to contradict you. A woman’s intuition is always—well, it’s always a woman’s intuition.”
He came back into the hall, and as he did so the door opened and a shock-headed man in the dress of a gamekeeper stood on the threshold.
“There are visitors to see you, Mademoiselle Germaine,” he said, in a very deep bass voice.
“What! Are you answering the door, Firmin?” said Germaine.
“Yes, Mademoiselle Germaine: there’s only me to do it. All the servants have started for the station, and my wife and I are going to see after the family to-night and to-morrow morning. Shall I show these gentlemen in?”
“Who are they?” said Germaine.
“Two gentlemen who say they have an appointment.”
“What are their names?” said Germaine.
“They are two gentlemen. I don’t know what their names are. I’ve no memory for names.”
“That’s an advantage to any one who answers doors,” said the Duke, smiling at the stolid Firmin.
“Well, it can’t be the two Charolais again. It’s not time for them to come back. I told them papa would not be back yet,” said Germaine.
“No, it can’t be them, Mademoiselle Germaine,” said Firmin, with decision.
“Very well; show them in,” she said.
Firmin went out, leaving the door open behind him; and they heard his hob-nailed boots clatter and squeak on the stone floor of the outer hall.
“Charolais?” said the Duke idly. “I don’t know the name. Who are they?”
“A little while ago Alfred announced two gentlemen. I thought they were Georges and Andre du Buit, for they promised to come to tea. I told Alfred to show them in, and to my surprise there appeared two horrible provincials. I never—Oh!”
She stopped short, for there, coming through the door, were the two Charolais, father and son.
M. Charolais pressed his motor-cap to his bosom, and bowed low. “Once more I salute you, mademoiselle,” he said.
His son bowed, and revealed behind him another young man.
“My second son. He has a chemist’s shop,” said M. Charolais, waving a large red hand at the young man.
The young man, also blessed with the family eyes, set close together, entered the hall and bowed to the two girls. The Duke raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.
“I’m very sorry, gentlemen,” said Germaine, “but my father has not yet returned.”
“Please don’t apologize. There is not the slightest need,” said M. Charolais; and he and his two sons settled themselves down on three chairs, with the air of people who had come to make a considerable stay.
For a moment, Germaine, taken aback by their coolness, was speechless; then she said hastily: “Very likely he won’t be back for another hour. I shouldn’t like you to waste your time.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” said M. Charolais, with an indulgent air; and turning to the Duke, he added, “However, while we’re waiting, if you’re a member of the family, sir, we might perhaps discuss the least you will take for the motor-car.”
“I’m sorry,” said the Duke, “but I have nothing to do with it.”
Before M. Charolais could reply the door opened, and Firmin’s deep voice said:
“Will you please come in here, sir?”
A third young man came into the hall.
“What, you here, Bernard?” said M. Charolais. “I told you to wait at the park gates.”
“I wanted to see the car too,” said Bernard.
“My third son. He is destined for the Bar,” said M. Charolais, with a great air of paternal pride.
“But how many are there?” said Germaine faintly.
Before M. Charolais could answer, Firmin once more appeared on the threshold.
“The master’s just come back, miss,” he said.
“Thank goodness for that!” said Germaine; and turning to M. Charolais, she added, “If you will come with me, gentlemen, I will take you to my father, and you can discuss the price of the car at once.”

#CHAPTERIV #Germaine #ArsèneLupin #France #MademoiselleGermaine #Firmin #Charolais #Alfred #Georges #AndreduBuit #M_Charolais #Bernard #ArseneLupin #MauriceLeBlanc #mystery #booktoot

Maurice Leblanc - Arsene Lupin Part 15 of 99

CHAPTER IV THE DUKE INTERVENES

The Duke rose, came to the window, and looked at the broken pane. He stepped out on to the terrace and looked at the turf; then he came back into the room.
“This looks serious,” he said. “That pane has not been broken at all. If it had been broken, the pieces of glass would be lying on the turf. It has been cut out. We must warn your father to look to his treasures.”
“I told you so,” said Germaine. “I said that Arsène Lupin was in the neighbourhood.”
“Arsène Lupin is a very capable man,” said the Duke, smiling. “But there’s no reason to suppose that he’s the only burglar in France or even in Ile-et-Vilaine.”
“I’m sure that he’s in the neighbourhood. I have a feeling that he is,” said Germaine stubbornly.
The Duke shrugged his shoulders, and said a smile: “Far be it from me to contradict you. A woman’s intuition is always—well, it’s always a woman’s intuition.”
He came back into the hall, and as he did so the door opened and a shock-headed man in the dress of a gamekeeper stood on the threshold.
“There are visitors to see you, Mademoiselle Germaine,” he said, in a very deep bass voice.
“What! Are you answering the door, Firmin?” said Germaine.
“Yes, Mademoiselle Germaine: there’s only me to do it. All the servants have started for the station, and my wife and I are going to see after the family to-night and to-morrow morning. Shall I show these gentlemen in?”
“Who are they?” said Germaine.
“Two gentlemen who say they have an appointment.”
“What are their names?” said Germaine.
“They are two gentlemen. I don’t know what their names are. I’ve no memory for names.”
“That’s an advantage to any one who answers doors,” said the Duke, smiling at the stolid Firmin.
“Well, it can’t be the two Charolais again. It’s not time for them to come back. I told them papa would not be back yet,” said Germaine.
“No, it can’t be them, Mademoiselle Germaine,” said Firmin, with decision.
“Very well; show them in,” she said.
Firmin went out, leaving the door open behind him; and they heard his hob-nailed boots clatter and squeak on the stone floor of the outer hall.
“Charolais?” said the Duke idly. “I don’t know the name. Who are they?”
“A little while ago Alfred announced two gentlemen. I thought they were Georges and Andre du Buit, for they promised to come to tea. I told Alfred to show them in, and to my surprise there appeared two horrible provincials. I never—Oh!”
She stopped short, for there, coming through the door, were the two Charolais, father and son.
M. Charolais pressed his motor-cap to his bosom, and bowed low. “Once more I salute you, mademoiselle,” he said.
His son bowed, and revealed behind him another young man.
“My second son. He has a chemist’s shop,” said M. Charolais, waving a large red hand at the young man.
The young man, also blessed with the family eyes, set close together, entered the hall and bowed to the two girls. The Duke raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.
“I’m very sorry, gentlemen,” said Germaine, “but my father has not yet returned.”
“Please don’t apologize. There is not the slightest need,” said M. Charolais; and he and his two sons settled themselves down on three chairs, with the air of people who had come to make a considerable stay.
For a moment, Germaine, taken aback by their coolness, was speechless; then she said hastily: “Very likely he won’t be back for another hour. I shouldn’t like you to waste your time.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” said M. Charolais, with an indulgent air; and turning to the Duke, he added, “However, while we’re waiting, if you’re a member of the family, sir, we might perhaps discuss the least you will take for the motor-car.”
“I’m sorry,” said the Duke, “but I have nothing to do with it.”
Before M. Charolais could reply the door opened, and Firmin’s deep voice said:
“Will you please come in here, sir?”
A third young man came into the hall.
“What, you here, Bernard?” said M. Charolais. “I told you to wait at the park gates.”
“I wanted to see the car too,” said Bernard.
“My third son. He is destined for the Bar,” said M. Charolais, with a great air of paternal pride.
“But how many are there?” said Germaine faintly.
Before M. Charolais could answer, Firmin once more appeared on the threshold.
“The master’s just come back, miss,” he said.
“Thank goodness for that!” said Germaine; and turning to M. Charolais, she added, “If you will come with me, gentlemen, I will take you to my father, and you can discuss the price of the car at once.”

#CHAPTERIV #Germaine #ArsèneLupin #France #MademoiselleGermaine #Firmin #Charolais #Alfred #Georges #AndreduBuit #M_Charolais #Bernard #ArseneLupin #MauriceLeBlanc #mystery #booktoot

Maurice Leblanc - Arsene Lupin Part 15 of 99

CHAPTER IV THE DUKE INTERVENES

The Duke rose, came to the window, and looked at the broken pane. He stepped out on to the terrace and looked at the turf; then he came back into the room.
“This looks serious,” he said. “That pane has not been broken at all. If it had been broken, the pieces of glass would be lying on the turf. It has been cut out. We must warn your father to look to his treasures.”
“I told you so,” said Germaine. “I said that Arsène Lupin was in the neighbourhood.”
“Arsène Lupin is a very capable man,” said the Duke, smiling. “But there’s no reason to suppose that he’s the only burglar in France or even in Ile-et-Vilaine.”
“I’m sure that he’s in the neighbourhood. I have a feeling that he is,” said Germaine stubbornly.
The Duke shrugged his shoulders, and said a smile: “Far be it from me to contradict you. A woman’s intuition is always—well, it’s always a woman’s intuition.”
He came back into the hall, and as he did so the door opened and a shock-headed man in the dress of a gamekeeper stood on the threshold.
“There are visitors to see you, Mademoiselle Germaine,” he said, in a very deep bass voice.
“What! Are you answering the door, Firmin?” said Germaine.
“Yes, Mademoiselle Germaine: there’s only me to do it. All the servants have started for the station, and my wife and I are going to see after the family to-night and to-morrow morning. Shall I show these gentlemen in?”
“Who are they?” said Germaine.
“Two gentlemen who say they have an appointment.”
“What are their names?” said Germaine.
“They are two gentlemen. I don’t know what their names are. I’ve no memory for names.”
“That’s an advantage to any one who answers doors,” said the Duke, smiling at the stolid Firmin.
“Well, it can’t be the two Charolais again. It’s not time for them to come back. I told them papa would not be back yet,” said Germaine.
“No, it can’t be them, Mademoiselle Germaine,” said Firmin, with decision.
“Very well; show them in,” she said.
Firmin went out, leaving the door open behind him; and they heard his hob-nailed boots clatter and squeak on the stone floor of the outer hall.
“Charolais?” said the Duke idly. “I don’t know the name. Who are they?”
“A little while ago Alfred announced two gentlemen. I thought they were Georges and Andre du Buit, for they promised to come to tea. I told Alfred to show them in, and to my surprise there appeared two horrible provincials. I never—Oh!”
She stopped short, for there, coming through the door, were the two Charolais, father and son.
M. Charolais pressed his motor-cap to his bosom, and bowed low. “Once more I salute you, mademoiselle,” he said.
His son bowed, and revealed behind him another young man.
“My second son. He has a chemist’s shop,” said M. Charolais, waving a large red hand at the young man.
The young man, also blessed with the family eyes, set close together, entered the hall and bowed to the two girls. The Duke raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.
“I’m very sorry, gentlemen,” said Germaine, “but my father has not yet returned.”
“Please don’t apologize. There is not the slightest need,” said M. Charolais; and he and his two sons settled themselves down on three chairs, with the air of people who had come to make a considerable stay.
For a moment, Germaine, taken aback by their coolness, was speechless; then she said hastily: “Very likely he won’t be back for another hour. I shouldn’t like you to waste your time.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” said M. Charolais, with an indulgent air; and turning to the Duke, he added, “However, while we’re waiting, if you’re a member of the family, sir, we might perhaps discuss the least you will take for the motor-car.”
“I’m sorry,” said the Duke, “but I have nothing to do with it.”
Before M. Charolais could reply the door opened, and Firmin’s deep voice said:
“Will you please come in here, sir?”
A third young man came into the hall.
“What, you here, Bernard?” said M. Charolais. “I told you to wait at the park gates.”
“I wanted to see the car too,” said Bernard.
“My third son. He is destined for the Bar,” said M. Charolais, with a great air of paternal pride.
“But how many are there?” said Germaine faintly.
Before M. Charolais could answer, Firmin once more appeared on the threshold.
“The master’s just come back, miss,” he said.
“Thank goodness for that!” said Germaine; and turning to M. Charolais, she added, “If you will come with me, gentlemen, I will take you to my father, and you can discuss the price of the car at once.”

#CHAPTERIV #Germaine #ArsèneLupin #France #MademoiselleGermaine #Firmin #Charolais #Alfred #Georges #AndreduBuit #M_Charolais #Bernard #ArseneLupin #MauriceLeBlanc #mystery #booktoot