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Updated: May 22, 2025
From this we passed to other topics, and the grave Monsieur Carmaignac amused us with a perfectly prodigious collection of scandalous anecdote, which his opportunities in the police department had enabled him to accumulate. My guests happily had engagements in Paris, and left me about ten. I went up to my room, and looked out upon the grounds of the Chateau de la Carque.
I was thinking within myself how utterly inexplicable was my colloquy with the conjuror, so cavalierly dismissed by Monsieur Carmaignac as a "fool"; and the more I thought the more marvelous it seemed. "It certainly was an original joke, though not a very clear one," said Whistlewick. "Not even original," said Carmaignac.
The moonlight was broken by clouds, and the view of the park in this desultory light acquired a melancholy and fantastic character. The strange anecdotes recounted of the room in which I stood by Monsieur Carmaignac returned vaguely upon my mind, drowning in sudden shadows the gaiety of the more frivolous stories with which he had followed them.
"It happened," said Carmaignac, "as well as I recollect, before either of the other cases. Your apartment, Monsieur. He was by no means young past forty and very far from good-looking. The people here said that he was the ugliest man, and the most good-natured, that ever lived. He played on the fiddle, sang, and wrote poetry. His habits were odd and desultory.
"It strikes me that he possibly stole these clothes," continued Carmaignac, "from the man in the coffin, who, in that case, would be Monsieur Beckett, and not Monsieur de St. Amand. For wonderful to relate, Monsieur, the watch is still going! The man in the coffin, I believe, is not dead, but simply drugged.
No, no, poor fellow, I know him too well for that." "The things I am in search of," said Monsieur Carmaignac, "would fit in a narrow compass servants are so ingenious sometimes. Let us raise the lid." "Pardon me, Monsieur," said the Count, peremptorily, advancing to the side of the coffin and extending his arm across it, "I cannot permit that indignity that desecration."
Here is Monsieur Carmaignac, a gentleman holding an office in the police department, who says that information to the effect that large quantities of smuggled English and other goods have been distributed in this neighborhood, and that a portion of them is concealed in your house.
Oh, Heaven! that I could have uttered were it but one cry! I saw the dark, mean mask of the little Count staring down at me from the other side; the face of the pseudo-Marquis also peering at me, but not so full in the line of vision; there were other faces also. "I see, I see," said Carmaignac, withdrawing. "Nothing of the kind there."
I will place my house and keys at his disposal, for the purpose of his scrutiny, so soon as he is good enough to inform me of what specific contraband goods he comes in search." "The Count de St. Alyre will pardon me," answered Carmaignac, a little dryly.
"As this gentleman makes a difficulty about my attending the obsequies of my kinsman, I will ask you, Planard, to accompany the funeral in my stead." "In a few minutes;" answered the incorrigible Carmaignac. "I must first trouble you for the key that opens that press." He pointed direct at the press in which the clothes had just been locked up.
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