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Updated: July 10, 2025
I have the highest esteem for Monsieur Dupont, and the terms in which he has recommended you to me are such that, from now on, I have not the slightest hesitation in treating you as one of ourselves, as a friend." Monsieur Naarboveck put his hand familiarly on the young journalist's shoulder, and led him into the next room. It was a library: a very lofty room.
A house-porter of the correct stamp appeared. "He lives here, Monsieur." Fandor offered his card, and the letter of introduction from M. Dupont. "Please see that these are handed to Monsieur de Naarboveck, and find out if he can receive me." The porter, having decided that the visitor was too well dressed to be left waiting on the steps, signed to the young man to follow him.
He had set his host and his table neighbours gossiping to such purpose that he could tell at what time de Naarboveck rose in the morning, what his habits were, if he fasted on Fridays, and what he paid for his cigars. "Monsieur de Naarboveck, if you please?" Jérôme Fandor had rung the bell of the front entrance in the rue Fabert. It was just striking nine.
De Naarboveck walked quietly up the grand staircase, his hand on its superb wrought-iron balustrade. The two men followed in silence. The baron opened the smoking-room door, saw it was empty, entered, signed to the policemen to follow, and closed the door. "To what do I owe the honour of your visit, gentlemen?" De Naarboveck's tone was icy. Inspector Michel spoke. "You must pardon us, Monsieur.
In a moment de Naarboveck and Fandor were seated inside it, and, whilst waving his hand to the respectful and gratified warder, he instructed the driver in a clear voice: "To the Palais de Justice!" As soon as they reached the rue de Rennes, de Naarboveck changed his destination.... He turned to Fandor. "Well, Monsieur Fandor, what have you to say to this?"
Among other friends and visitors, Wilhelmine met the Baron de Naarboveck, a foreign diplomat. Then Lady Beltham went to France, and one sad day the orphan girl learned that her mother by adoption had died there! Six dreary, anxious months followed. Then the baron, the only person in the whole world who seemed to care whether she lived or died, came to find her. He took her to Paris.
He did not believe that Wilhelmine de Naarboveck had been Captain Brocq's mistress; but he knew there was an undecipherable mystery in this girl's life, and he had an intuition that the discovery of this secret would probably throw light on certain points which, as far as he was concerned, had remained obscure. Was this fair-haired girl really the baron's daughter?
Juve crossed the pavement and jumped into a carriage, making room for his dear lad beside him. "But, Juve," remonstrated Fandor: "You declared to me the other day that it was impossible to arrest de Naarboveck that he was inviolable but you did not tell me why.... Isn't that true?" "It is true." "And it is so no longer." "It still is so."
"It carries with it some advantages, certainly." "Among them, Baron, the privilege of inviolability ah, that famous inviolability!" Juve laid stress on the word inviolability. De Naarboveck did not seem to understand the insinuation conveyed.
Henri de Loubersac had a clear conviction that during his conversation with her who might have been his fiancée in days to come, they had been shadowed, spied upon! There were strange happenings elsewhere on the day Henri de Loubersac and Wilhelmine de Naarboveck had parted in grief and anger. It was on the stroke of noon when Corporal Vinson heard a key turn in the lock of his cell.
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