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"We have evidence. In the first place, his mysterious disappearance at seven o'clock, or even earlier." "I know, Colia told me that he had said he was off to I forget the name, some friend of his, to finish the night." "H'm! then Colia has spoken to you already?" "Not about the theft." "He does not know of it; I have kept it a secret. Very well, Ferdishenko went off to Wilkin's.
He said he was going to spend 'the rest of the night' at Wilkin's; there's a tipsy fellow, a friend of his, of that name. Well, I'm off. Oh, here's Lebedeff himself! The prince wants to go to sleep, Lukian Timofeyovitch, so you may just go away again." "One moment, my dear prince, just one.
Dryden, he printed a Pindarique Ode, to the Memory of the most renowned Prince, Oliver, Lord Protector, &c. printed in quarto, which he dedicated to the reverend Mr. Wilkin's, then warden of Wadham-College; by whose approbation and request, it was made public, as the author designed it only for a private amusement.
That is not so curious in itself, but here the evidence opens out further. He left his address, you see, when he went. Now prince, consider, why did he leave his address? Why do you suppose he went out of his way to tell Colia that he had gone to Wilkin's? Who cared to know that he was going to Wilkin's? No, no! prince, this is finesse, thieves' finesse!
We went off on the hot scent to Wilkin's together, you know; but I must first observe that the general was even more thunderstruck than I myself this morning, when I awoke him after discovering the theft; so much so that his very face changed he grew red and then pale, and at length flew into a paroxysm of such noble wrath that I assure you I was quite surprised!
This is as good as saying, 'There, how can I be a thief when I leave my address? I'm not concealing my movements as a thief would. Do you understand, prince?" "Oh yes, but that is not enough." "Second proof. The scent turns out to be false, and the address given is a sham. An hour after that is at about eight, I went to Wilkin's myself, and there was no trace of Ferdishenko.
As the Lübeck boat was not to leave until the morrow, I went to Wilkin's to get my supper. This famous establishment occupies a low-ceiled basement, which is divided into cabinets ornamented with more show than taste. Oysters, turtle-soup, a truffled filet, and a bottle of Veuve Cliquot iced, composed my simple bill of fare.
"Of all this another time, good father; but I wish at present, and before other discourse, to consult thee on a matter which presses my conscience, and moreover deeply concerns my worldly estate." "Speak on, my excellent son," said the father, conceiving that he should thus gain the key to Wilkin's real intentions.
This kind of criticism, which seizes on a slight inaccuracy in one passage, and totally ignores an important statement in another as, for instance, that of the "great beast" seen in the woods might be extended to other portions of the book, and Byron's entire narrative made to appear as purely a work of the imagination as Peter Wilkin's adventures in those same antarctic seas. Mr.
"Because look here, prince, I don't mind telling you now that as we were going along to Wilkin's this morning, after telling me what you know about the fire, and saving the count and all that, the general was pleased to drop certain hints to the same effect about Ferdishenko, but so vaguely and clumsily that I thought better to put a few questions to him on the matter, with the result that I found the whole thing was an invention of his excellency's own mind.
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