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Updated: May 9, 2025
For a moment Lanyard lingered unnoticed on the outskirts of this assemblage, searching its pretty faces for the prettier face he had come to find and wondering that she should have chosen for her purpose with him a resort of this character.
With rapid and sure gestures he extracted and pocketed the clip, drew back the breech, ejecting into his palm the one shell in the barrel, and replaced the weapon, all before the Prussian gave over his insane efforts to resurrect the dead. "He is dead enough," he announced, eyeing Lanyard morosely "beyond helping.... Look here; are you with me or against me?" "Need you ask?"
"I see," said the other thoughtfully. Lanyard felt himself start almost uncontrollably: rage swept through him, storming brain and body, like a black squall over a hill-bound lake. For the moment he could neither see or hear clearly nor think coherently. For the voice of this latest incarnation of Andre Duchemin was the voice of "Karl."
Conceiving that the man who had appeared at the service entrance was the same who had admitted Liane, Lanyard told himself he understood: impatient for his bed, the fellow had gone to the service gate to spy out for signs of madame's return. Now if only it were true that he had failed to close it securely ! It proved so. The gate gave readily to Lanyard's pull.
'Then you do not greatly care about it even for the sake of meeting Mr. Lanyard? 'Lanyard? Great Heavens! The fellow has done some fine things, but spiritual converse with him is quite enough for me.
The eloquent eyebrows indicated surprise and resignation, and Monk got up and inserted himself into his white linen tunic. Phinuit, more sensitive to the accent of something amiss, hurried out in unceremonious shirt sleeves. "What's up?" he demanded, looking from Lanyard's grave face to Liane's face of pallor and distress. Lanyard informed him in a few words. "Impossible!" Phinuit commented.
With a sharp hissing and whistling the air from the auxiliary tanks was driven inboard, and as Lanyard manipulated the wheels operating the forward and aft groups of Kingston valves, to the hissing was added the suck and gurgle of water flooding the main and auxiliary ballast and adjusting tanks. Immediately the U-boat began to sink.
With professional dexterity Lanyard en passant dropped a hand over the young man's shoulder and lightly lifted the pen from its place in the pocket of Blensop's waistcoat; the even tempo of his step unbroken, he tossed it toward the safe, where it fell without sound upon a heavy Persian rug. "Yes about Howson," the musical accents continued, "Colonel Stanistreet is most solicitous...."
His back to Lanyard, unconscious of that one's catlike approach, the spy put up his flash-lamp, searched in a waistcoat pocket and produced a slip of paper, and bent his face close to the combination dial, studying its figures; but abruptly, like a startled animal, whirled round to face the windows.
"He has no faith at all in our good intentions," Phinuit explained, eyeing Lanyard with mild reproach. "It's most discouraging." "Monsieur suffers from insomnia?" Monk asked in his turn. "Under certain circumstances." "Ever take anything for it?" "To-night it would require nothing less than possession of the Montalais jewels to put me to sleep."
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