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Updated: July 17, 2025
The count poisoned his brother, and then, finding that Madeline refused to give up Bertomy, determined to accomplish the cashier's ruin, and at the same time obtain an amount of money large enough to buy off his fellow-conspirator Lagors. Lagors, having learnt by chance the password that guarded the safe, was sent to Madame Fauvel late at night with a request for money.
Within a month you will bitterly regret your suspicions of to-night. You will blush to think that you ever imagined Mlle. Madeleine to be intimate with a man like Lagors." "But, monsieur, appearances " "It is precisely against appearances that we must be on our guard. Always distrust them. A suspicion, false or just, is always based on something.
Upon her right was Madeleine, and near her stood Raoul de Lagors, dressed in a costume of Henri III. "I must confess," muttered the clown from his post of observation, "that the young scamp is a very handsome man." Madeleine appeared very sad. She had plucked a japonica from a tree near by, and was mechanically pulling it to pieces as she sat with her eyes downcast. Raoul and Mme.
He hurried back to the hotel where the other, M. de Lagors, awaited him. And, upon my soul, I have never heard so much swearing in my life! M. Raoul asked him what had happened to put him in such a bad humor. 'Nothing, replied my master, 'except that little devil has run off, and no one knows where she is; she has slipped through our fingers. Then they both appeared to be vexed and uneasy.
Prosper's portrait of M. de Lagors had not been an exaggerated one. So handsome a face and manly a figure could belong only to a noble character. Although Raoul said that he was twenty-four, he appeared to be not more than twenty. He had a superb figure, well knit and supple; a beautiful white brow, shaded by soft chestnut curly hair, soft blue eyes which beamed with frankness.
Now listen: you are the invalid, and I am the doctor charged to cure you; if I cut to the quick, you will have to endure it. It is the only way to save you." "Cut away then, monsieur," answered Prosper. "Well, we will hurry, for time passes. You have a friend, M. de Lagors?" "Raoul? Yes, monsieur, he is an intimate friend." "Now tell me, who is this fellow?"
The visit of Lagors, and Gypsy's torn letter, had filled Prosper with suspicions which had grown stronger and more settled as time passed. "Do you know, my dear friend," said M. Verduret, "what part of France this devoted friend of yours comes from?" "He was born at St. Remy, which is also Mme. Fauvel's native town." "Are you certain of that?" "Oh, perfectly so, monsieur!
Excessive suffering brings with it a sort of dull insensibility and stupor; and Prosper thought that there was nothing left to be inflicted upon him, and had reached that state of impassibility from which he never expected to be aroused, when this last remark of M. de Lagors made him cry out with pain: "Madeleine! Oh, Madeleine!"
Then Lagors exclaimed, 'If it is as serious as that, we must get rid of this little serpent! But my master shrugged his shoulders, and laughing loudly said, 'You talk like an idiot; when one is annoyed by a woman of this sort, one must take measures to get rid of her administratively. This idea seemed to amuse them both very much."
"It also contains," continued M. Verduret, "a Roman triumphal arch, which is of unparalleled beauty, and a Greek mausoleum; but no Lagors. St. Remy is the native town of Nostradamus, but not of your friend." "Yet I have proofs." "Naturally. But proofs can be fabricated; relatives can be improvised. Your evidence is open to suspicion. My proofs are undeniable, perfectly authenticated.
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