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Updated: June 6, 2025
A fine sand carpeted the rounded slope of the tiny beach. "Jump on shore, Beautrelet Raymonde, give me your hand. You, Charolais, go back to the Needle, see what happens between Ganimard and Duguay-Trouin and come back and tell me at the end of the day. The thing interests me tremendously."
There was just room to stand up in the middle of the cave. Multitudes of inscriptions crossed one another on the walls. An almost square hole, cut in the stone, opened like a dormer window on the land side, exactly opposite Fort Frefosse, the crenellated top of which appeared at thirty or forty yards' distance. Beautrelet threw off his knapsack and sat down. He had had a hard and tiring day.
In all probability, his confederates removed his corpse at the same time that they carried away the girl; but what proof have we? None at all. Any more than of his staying in the ruins, or of his death, or of his life. And that is the real mystery, M. Beautrelet. The murder of Mlle. Raymonde solves nothing. On the contrary, it only complicates matters.
He rose to his feet and held up his hand as one taking an oath: "Beautrelet, you shall tell the world that Lupin has not taken a single one of the stones that were in the royal chest, not a single one, I swear it on my honor! I had no right to. They are the fortune of France." Below them, Ganimard was making all speed.
I've forgotten " "Try try and remember. It was the name of a town, wasn't it?" "Yes a name like Chateau " "Chateaubriant? Chateau-Thierry? "No-no " "Chateauroux?" "Yes, that was it Chateauroux " Beautrelet did not wait for her to complete her sentence.
The paragraph was drawn up forthwith; and Beautrelet set to work at once, without even waiting for it to produce a result. A first scent suggested itself: the murder was committed near Gaillon. He went there that same day. Certainly, he did not hope to reconstruct a crime perpetrated two hundred years ago.
And the work was so just, regarded as a piece of criticism, so penetrating, so lively and marked by a wit so clever and, at the same time, so cruel that the lawyers at once passed over to his side, that the sympathy of the crowd was summarily transferred from Lupin to Beautrelet and that, in the struggle engaged upon between the two, the schoolboy's victory was loudly proclaimed in advance.
M. Isidore Beautrelet, according to my information, has made a great reputation at the Lycee Janson-de-Sailly as an observer whom nothing escapes; and his schoolfellows, I hear, look upon him as your competitor and a rival of Holmlock Shears!" "Indeed!" said Ganimard, ironically. "Just so.
Isidore felt like flying at his throat, as though all the truth lived in that man and he hoped to get it from him at one swoop, to tear it from him. The Demoiselles! One of the words, one of the only three known words of the document! A whirlwind of madness shook Beautrelet where he stood.
They went higher still and Beautrelet saw the room containing the clocks and other time-pieces, the book-room oh, the splendid bindings, the precious, undiscoverable volumes, the unique copies stolen from the great public libraries the lace-room, the knicknack-room. And each time the circumference of the room grew smaller. And each time, now, the sound of knocking was more distant.
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