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Updated: May 14, 2025
"The letters, first!" Varin drew a revolver and, pointing it at Mon. Andermatt, said: "Yes or no?" The banker stooped quickly. There was the sound of a pistol-shot. The weapon fell from Varin's hand. I was amazed. The shot was fired close to me. It was Daspry who had fired it at Varin, causing him to drop the revolver.
I looked wistfully, as we rattled into dreary Andermatt, at the great white zigzags of the Oberalp road which climbed away to the left. Even on one's way to Italy one may spare a throb of desire for the beautiful vision of the castled Grisons.
For two years, Louis Lacombe was a frequent visitor at Andermatt's house, and he submitted to the banker the various improvements he made upon his original plans, until one day, being satisfied with the perfection of his work, he asked Mon. Andermatt to communicate with the Minister of Marine. That day, Louis Lacombe dined at Mon. Andermatt's house. He left there about half-past eleven at night.
Beyond the Devil's Bridge, the mountains which nearly touched before, interlock into each other, and a tunnel three hundred and seventy-five feet long leads through the rock into the vale of Urseren, surrounded by the Upper Alps. The little town of Andermatt lies in the middle of this valley, which with the peaks around is covered with short, yellowish-brown grass.
I was impelled by curiosity to interrupt him, and, leading him away from the hearing of Madame Andermatt, I asked: "Did you discover the smaller safe yourself the one that held the letters?" "Yes, after a great deal of trouble. I found it yesterday afternoon while you were asleep. And yet, God knows it was simple enough! But the simplest things are the ones that usually escape our notice."
The slopes all look somewhat steep and are bare of forest, so that they might be somewhat dangerous on account of avalanches. There is no railway to help Ski runners, but Andermatt might offer quite a lot of good runs to experienced people.
He lived in princely style; was the possessor of numerous automobiles, coaches, and an expensive racing-stable. His social affairs were very select, and Madame Andermatt was noted for her grace and beauty. "Can that be the man's name?" I asked. The chief of the Surete leaned over him. "It is not he. Mon. Andermatt is a thin man, and slightly grey." "But why this card?"
"I never wrote to you," declared Mon. Andermatt. "You did not write to me!" Instinctively, Varin was put on his guard, not against the banker, but against the unknown enemy who had drawn him into this trap. A second time, he looked in our direction, then walked toward the door. But Mon. Andermatt barred his passage. "Well, where are you going, Varin?"
Darkness was coming on; the straggling, inconclusive street of Andermatt looked as if it were some accident houses, hotels, barracks, lodging-places tumbled at random as the caravan of civilization crossed this high, cold, arid bridge of the European world. I bought two post cards and wrote them out of doors in the cold, livid twilight. Then I asked a soldier where was the post-office.
The impression was of value to a cherisher of quaintness, and he must have wondered not knowing me for such a character why I stared at him. It wasn't him I was staring at, but some handsome Seymour or Dudley or Digby with a ruff and a round cap and plume. From Andermatt, through its high, cold, sunny valley, we passed into rugged little Hospenthal, and then up the last stages of the ascent.
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