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Updated: May 11, 2025
Before they left Monte Carlo for Paris everybody could see that he had only to ask her hand, to have it bestowed upon him. For although the baron never has cared for the man, Athalie rules him, and her every caprice is humoured. "But, for all he was so ardent a lover, Monsieur Merode was slow in coming to the important point. Perhaps his plans were not matured.
He's had to kill the old fool to get it!" and Cleek had just time to tear loose from the shape with which he was battling, and dodge out of the way when the man Merode lurched into the room, with half a dozen Apaches tumbling in at his heels. "Serpice!" he cried, rushing forward, as he saw the gasping red shape upon the floor; "Serpice! Mon Dieu! what is it?" "The cracksman!" he gulped.
"The truth, nothing but the truth!" she answered hysterically. "Oh, let me begin at the beginning you'll never understand unless I do. I'll tell you in as few words as possible as quickly as I can. It all began last winter, when Athalie and her father were at Monte Carlo. There they met Madame la Comtesse de la Tour and her brother, Monsieur Gaston Merode.
"'Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's'!" quoted Corydon. "Yes, and let Caesar spend them on Cleo de Merode. What she wants is to save the souls of her savages to baptize them, and to perish gloriously at the work, and then be transported to some future life that is worth while. So you see what the immortality-mongers do with our morality!" "Ah!" cried Corydon, swiftly.
She went to the room overhead, which was occupied by a female lodger calling herself Diane Merode. The door was locked, and her demands for admittance brought no response. She promptly summoned the police, who broke in the door and found the unfortunate woman, Merode, lying dead in a pool of blood. She had been stabbed to the heart by a powerful blow dealt from behind.
Mother of disasters! It is not the Cracksman it is the real Clodoche we have killed!" For one moment a sort of panic held them, swayed them, and befogged their brains; then of a sudden Merode howled out "Get back! Get back! The fellow's in there still!" and led a blind race down the passage to the bar where they had seen Cleek last.
For such a step even pronounced liberals like Gendebien, Van de Weyer and Rouppe, the veteran burgomaster of the city, were not yet prepared; and they combined with the moderates, Count Felix de Mérode and Ferdinand Meeus, to form a Committee of Public Safety. While these were still struggling to maintain their authority, the States-General had met at the Hague on September 13.
She saw that archway and that dry water-course, and a new, strong hope arose within her. Discretion had played its part; now it was time for Valour to take the stage. "Come, get out this is the end," said Merode, as he unlatched the door of the limousine and alighted. "You may yell here until your throat splits, for all the good it will do you.
Before the end of the winter our village squire returned from abroad, and declared that he had recognized Diane in Paris, and that she was a popular dancer under the name of Merode. About the same time it was reported in the papers that the vessel on which Gilbert Morris had set sail, the Nautilus, had been lost in a storm, with all hands on board. There was every reason to credit the report "
His eyes were swollen slits; his nose a pickled beet; his hair would have made the wildest thatch of a Jack-in-the-box look like the satin poll of a Cleo de Merode. The rest of him was scarecrow done to the life. Ranse jumped down from his seat and looked at his strange cargo with wide-open eyes. "Here, you maverick, what are you doing in my wagon? How did you get in there?"
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