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Updated: May 22, 2025
Yozhov knew everything: he related at school how the procurator's chambermaid gave birth to a child, and that for this the procurator's wife poured hot coffee over her husband; he could tell where and when it was best to catch perch; he knew how to make traps and cages for birds; he could give a detailed account of how the soldier had hanged himself in the garret of the armoury, and knew from which of the pupils' parents the teacher had received a present that day and precisely what sort of a present it was.
"'Tis a terrible fellow, this Abellino!" cried the conspirators, when the news reached them, and celebrated the Procurator's death in triumph at the Cardinal's midnight feast. The Doge was almost distracted with terror and astonishment. He engaged to give ten thousand sequins to any one who should discover by whom Conari had been removed from the world.
We saw not one teamster, not one beast. The long series of stalled wagons, with their hamstrung or stalled cattle and empty cages extended to the foot of the crag and beyond it. Beyond it we came on the procurator's carriage, empty; no horse to it or by it. Still we had seen no human being.
D'Artagnan related to Athos all that had passed at the church between Porthos and the procurator's wife, and how their comrade was probably by that time in a fair way to be equipped. "As for me," replied Athos to this recital, "I am quite at my ease; it will not be women that will defray the expense of my outfit."
When the deceased procurator's will was opened and his papers inspected, many blanks and irregularities were found to which Biondello alone could furnish a key. He persisted in denying that he knew anything about it, gave up his very handsome legacy to the heirs, and kept his secrets to himself.
When we reached the crossroad, up which the constabulary had turned, the procurator's carriage was still somewhere up the highway; I had not seen it since I left the top of the crag. The train of beast-wagons seemed endless. Into the crossroad we turned and up it Selinus tore. I chuckled.
The prince, whom the foregoing scene had left in not the happiest frame of mind, was pacing angrily up and down the room; the rouleaus of gold were still lying on the table; I stood at the window, counting the panes of glass in the procurator's house opposite. There was a long pause. At length the prince broke silence. "F !" he began, "I cannot bear to see dismal faces about me."
The procurator's wife smiled, thinking that it was for her Porthos had put himself to this trouble; but she was cruelly and promptly undeceived. When she was only about three steps from him, he turned his head round, fixing his eyes steadfastly upon the lady with the red cushion, who had risen and was approaching, followed by her black boy and her woman.
"Three hundred livres? Then put down three hundred livres," said the procurator's wife, with a sigh. Porthos smiled. It may be remembered that he had the saddle which came from Buckingham. These three hundred livres he reckoned upon putting snugly into his pocket. "Then," continued he, "there is a horse for my lackey, and my valise.
"Have you no friends in Paris, then, Monsieur Porthos?" said the procurator's wife. "I thought I had," said Porthos, resuming his melancholy air; "but I have been taught my mistake." "You have some!" cried the procurator's wife, in a transport that surprised even herself. "Come to our house tomorrow.
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