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Updated: June 28, 2025
You forget that the Marquis de Boisdhyver had no proof of his right to the treasure, save his own story, save his account of his brother's instructions on the field of Waterloo. By telling all he might have awakened deeper suspicions than by secrecy." "That, I must say," Dan interrupted, "would hardly be possible." "So!" exclaimed Madame de la Fontaine, with an accent of displeasure. "Ecoutez!
His was a name well-known in France, glorious in the annals of the Empire; a name, too, familiar to you in a somewhat different connection. 'General Pointelle' was the nom-de-guerre, as it were, of Francois, Marquis de Boisdhyver, marechal de France." "Francois! you say, Francois!" exclaimed Dan.
Monsieur de Boisdhyver was enthusiastic about all that he had seen the headquarters of General Washington, the house in which the Marquis de Lafayette had slept, the old mill in the parade, the fort at the Narrows, the shipping, the quaint old streets.... "But, O Monsieur Frost," he exclaimed, "the weariness that is now so delightful! How soundly shall I sleep to-night!"
You must remember he had nothing wherewith to prove his story, if he gave you his confidence at once; and so, he decided, to investigate quietly alone. But he won the confidence of Mademoiselle Nancy, that is, of his niece, Eloise de Boisdhyver, and revealed to her the secret of her identity and the mysterious story of the treasure. You follow me in all this, Monsieur Dan?"
Monsieur de Boisdhyver ate heartily and drank his wine with relish, gracefully toasting Nancy as he did so. When his meal was finished, he begged with many excuses to be shown to his bedroom; and indeed his fatigue was evident. Dan saw him to the great south chamber, carrying a pair of lighted candles before.
"And the treasure?" "Ah! there was treasure, wasn't there? Wait, let's see what is in the little casket." He picked up the golden casket that they had stepped over as they entered, and raised the lid. A single scrap of paper was inside on the little velvet cushion, inscribed in the same handwriting as the paper of directions, "Pour Eloise de Boisdhyver."
"But, monsieur, un moment" protested the old gentleman, as Dan made as if to leave the room, "give me the time to explain to you this misunderstanding. "No, Marquis. I will not talk until I have seen Tom." The black eyes of Monsieur de Boisdhyver gleamed unpleasantly. "I have said to you, Monsieur Frost, that I refuse to meet Monsieur Tom Pembroke once more. It would be intolerable.
Now, my friend, there is a service that you can immediately render." "And that is?" asked Dan. "To entrust to me the other half of the paper of directions written by Francois de Boisdhyver, which you found in a secret cubby-hole in the old cabinet." "What makes you think that I was successful in finding that, when the Marquis failed?"
He found the Marquis established at a small table in the bar by an east window, from which was obtained a view of the Cove, of the sand-dunes along the Neck, and of the open sea beyond. A writing-desk was on the table, ink and quills had been provided, a number of books and papers were strewn about, and Monsieur de Boisdhyver was apparently busy with his correspondence.
I fear I have taken a little cold. Perhaps it would be just as well if we explore no further to-day." "If you prefer, sir," answered Dan, holding the door open for his guest to go out. Monsieur de Boisdhyver turned and surveyed the Oak Parlour once more before he left it. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "this so charming room it is of a perfection! Dorsetshire, you say? ... To me it would seem French."
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