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Updated: June 22, 2025
'Who is it who talks about woman's curiosity? 'Let me see it. 'Well, sir, if you must know, it is the Financial Whisper. 'Where in the world did you get it? 'I knew that the Montresors took a financial paper. I remember Mrs. Montresor saying once how dreadfully dry it was.
On a sign from Monsieur de Montresor the man left the room. "Now listen to me, my friend," said the provost-marshal, toying with the collar of the Order; for, late as the hour was, he was in full uniform. This little circumstance gave the young man several thoughts; he saw that all was not over; on the contrary, it was evidently neither to hang nor yet to condemn him that he was brought here.
Montresor answered, "The King bends his ear toward the Duc de Bouillon, who is speaking to him; he speaks again! he gesticulates! he does not cease! Oh, he'll be minister!" "He will be minister!" said Fontrailles. "He will be minister!" echoed the Comte du Lude. "Oh, no doubt of it!" said Montresor.
As it is, I must beg you to allow me to bid you good-night. Jacob, will you kindly get the Duchess her cloak? Good-night. Good-night. As you see" she pointed to the sticks which supported her "I have no hands to-night. My infirmities have need of them." Montresor approached her again, in real and deep distress. "Dear Lady Henry "
"These Englishwomen overdo their jewels," he thought, with distaste. "But they overdo everything. That is a handsome fellow, by-the-way, who was with la petite fée when we arrived." And his shrewd, small eyes travelled from Warkworth to the Duchess, his mind the while instinctively assuming some hidden relation between them. Meanwhile, Montresor was elaborately informing himself as to Lady Henry.
The hour is late, and I am as you see indisposed. But I trust, on some future occasion, I may have the honor " She looked round upon them, challenging and defying them all. Montresor went up to her. "My dear old friend, let me introduce to you M. du Bartas, of the French Foreign Office." At this appeal to her English hospitality and her social chivalry, Lady Henry looked grimly at the Frenchman.
He already began to approach them, turning his hair with his fingers, when Fontrailles and Montresor fortunately arrived in the dress of Swiss soldiers. A group of gentlemen, disguised as sailors, followed them with iron-shod staves in their hands. There was a paleness on their faces which announced no good. "Stop here!" said one of them to his suite; "this is the place."
"I was just thinking, aloud, that Montresor could have had a son as old, or as young, as this Kenneth Evans. If he had gone to the Klondike, as we believed, the boy would have been too young to remember his dad very distinctly. Who knows what drove Old Montresor away from home, to seek adventure or gold so far north as in the Klondike?
He was still thus when Montresor and Fontrailles at length arrived and found him beating his breast, and repeating a thousand times, "Mea culpa, mea culpa!" "You have come at last!" he exclaimed from a distance, running to meet them. "Come! quick! What is going on? What are they doing there? Who are these assassins? What are these cries?" "They cry, 'Long live Monsieur!"
Kenneth said nothing, but when she had gone he turned to the girls and said: "We were thinking more of knowing for a certainty whether Uncle Peter was still alive, or whether your Montresor is my mother's brother. I almost forgot there was gold in that mine."
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