Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 14, 2025
"Herr Freudenberg," he said, "I have done my best. It was impossible for me to obtain an introduction to this customer." "Impossible?" Herr Freudenberg repeated, his face suddenly becoming stony. "Let me explain," Estermen continued hastily. "This customer arrived in Paris last night or early this morning. He was called upon at once by a lady who lives in the Avenue de St. Paul.
Write your confession, summon your dearest friend by telephone, give a little supper you'll have plenty of time but see that the affair is over before midnight! This is my advice to you, Estermen; these are also my orders, my final orders. If I find you alive when I return, or the confession unwritten, I will show you how death may be made more horrible than anything you have yet conceived."
His sallow complexion had become yellow. His carefully waxed moustache was drooping, a speck of saliva was issuing from his lips. "The request which you make to me," Prince Falkenberg replied, "I absolutely refuse. I know you and your cowardly temperament too well to allow you to come alive into the hands of the French police." "You value your own life highly enough!" Estermen snarled.
Close to his side was mademoiselle, her hand already clasping his. Estermen, gaunt, red-eyed, still haggard with fear, sat a few feet away. "Wine!" Falkenberg ordered. "Pommery bottles of it! Never mind if we cannot drink it. Let us look at it. Let us imagine the joys that come, added to those we feel." Already the wine was rushing into their glasses. Falkenberg raised his glass.
I shall change my clothes, and in a quarter of an hour I am at your service. Wait for me downstairs." Estermen drew a little sigh of relief. "I shall await you, Sir Julien," he declared. All Paris seemed to be seeking distraction as they drove in the automobile along the Boulevard des Italiens. Julien sat with folded arms in the corner of the automobile. He had no fancy for his companion.
The door was opened. Estermen came in with suspicious alacrity. There was scarcely any need of words. In a moment Julien's legs and arms were bound and a gag thrust between his teeth. Herr Freudenberg moved before the door and listened. "Estermen has reported to me," he remarked, "that you keep no manservant. Any intrusion here, therefore, is scarcely to be feared. You will permit me?"
Then his lips moved, he spoke in a whisper which was almost inaudible. "Henriette!" From across the table his companion watched him. At first she was puzzled. When she heard the woman's name which came so softly from his lips, she turned pale. Herr Freudenberg recovered from his fit of abstraction almost as quickly as he had lapsed into it. "I thank you, Estermen," he declared.
With a little shrug of the shoulders he took his own place in the great touring car. Estermen, too, clambered into the tonneau. "You have supped well, I trust, Henri?" the Prince asked the chauffeur. "Without a doubt, Excellency," the man replied. "Then drive for the frontier," Falkenberg ordered. "We will stop you when we need a rest." They left Paris in the semi-darkness.
I know the secret places of the city. I have friends who might help me to escape." Prince Falkenberg watched his agent for a moment in contemptuous curiosity. Estermen was walking restlessly up and down the few feet of carpet, his fingers and the muscles of his face twitching. His words had come with difficulty, as though he had suddenly developed an impediment in his speech.
"Have you made any inquiries as to his condition?" Estermen shrugged his shoulders. "The household of Madame Christophor," he replied, "is, as you know, outside my sphere of influence. It is, besides, incorruptible. I myself am personally obnoxious to Madame. I could do nothing but wait for your coming." Prince Falkenberg stood with his hands behind him, thinking.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking