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Updated: June 11, 2025
"Ah, well! it seems to me I may, of course, be mistaken but I fancy that appearances are deceitful, and Yes, I suspect something." "Bah! explain yourself, please." "How can you explain the dog's faculty of scent?" Gevrol shrugged his shoulders. "In short," he replied, "you scent a melodrama here a rendezvous of gentlemen in disguise, here at the Poivriere, at Mother Chupin's house.
"She was short," replied the attendant, "with a very fair complexion and light hair; she seemed to be a very respectable woman." "It must have been one of the female fugitives who escaped from the Widow Chupin's hovel," exclaimed Lecoq. Gevrol, hitherto an attentive listener, burst into a loud laugh. "Still that Russian princess," said he.
"Victor is a capable and trustworthy young fellow, mademoiselle," he declared; "he has grown up under my training, and I think you will find him a faithful servant." A "have you finished, you old liar?" rose to Chupin's lips, but respect for Mademoiselle Marguerite prevented him from uttering the words. "Then everything is decided," she said, pleasantly.
Turn your back to us; look out into the street; do not let him see your face. But why is he so long in coming?" Blanche was not deceived. It was Chupin's eldest son; the one to whom the dying poacher had confided his secret. Since his arrival in Paris he had been running the streets from morning until evening, inquiring everywhere and of everybody the address of the Marquis de Sairmeuse.
"It must be one of Chupin's sons," faltered Blanche, at last. "Undoubtedly; but what does he desire?" "Money, probably." Aunt Medea lifted her eyes to heaven. "God grant that he knows nothing of your meetings with his father! Blessed Jesus! what if he should know." "You are not going to despair in advance! We shall know all in a few moments. Pray be calm.
Madame Vantrasson was not in her accustomed place, behind the counter, between her black cat her latest idol and the bottles from which she prepared her ratafia, now her supreme consolation here below. There was no one in the shop but the landlord. Seated at a table, with a lighted candle near him, he was engaged in an occupation which would have set Chupin's mind working if he had noticed it.
"Oh! oh! oh!" said old Tabaret, in three different tones, plainly implying that this criminal was evidently superior to others of his species. "And where did this happen?" "In a wine-shop near the barriere." "Oh, yes, I recollect: a man named May. The murders were committed in the Widow Chupin's cabin.
Now he understood the terrible drama which had been enacted in the Widow Chupin's cabin. "I must go to Sairmeuse at once," he said to himself; "there I can discover all." He departed without seeing M. d'Escorval. He resisted the temptation to take the letter with him. It was exactly one month to a day after the death of Mme. Blanche.
"Your greeting is quite funereal. Are you not well?" "I am merely preoccupied, and that is excusable on the eve of the battle we are about to fight," returned Mascarin. He only, however, told a portion of the truth; for there was more in the background, which he did not wish to confide to his friend. Toto Chupin's revolt had disquieted him.
He did see it only too well; and his embarrassment increased to such a pitch that he began to scratch his head furiously. At last he decided on a plan. "First of all, mademoiselle, brace yourself against the wall, and now stand firm. Yes, like that. Now, are you all right? Well, I have found M. Ferailleur!" Chupin's precaution was a wise one, for Marguerite tottered.
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