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Updated: June 17, 2025
Yes, yes, I know I oughtn't to use vigorous language." "Do," bleated Charm, smiling sweetly up at him. "Do, it makes you seem manly." Even Renard had to take time to laugh. "Thank you! I'm not above making use of any aids to create that illusion. Well, as I was saying, what guide-book ever really helped anyone to see? that's what one travels for, I take it.
And again: "To Renard Brune, 25th July, 1435, at evening, for paying the hire of a messenger who was carrying letters from Jeanne the Maid, and was on his way to William Beliers, bailiff of Troyes, two livres."
Here M. Renard took out a note-book, turned over the leaves, and resumed, "Wanted, Louise Duval, daughter of Auguste Duval, a French drawing-master, who lived for many years at Tours, removed to Paris in 1845, lived at No. 12, Rue de S at Paris for some years, but afterwards moved to a different guartier of the town, and died 1848, in Rue I , No. 39.
"If I had known all this, I would have killed Renard then and there, without giving him time to draw another breath; but the father, the mother, the girl herself, and the quartermaster were all in the plot like thieves in a fair.
No one in Issoudun, not even Potel or Renard, dared broach so delicate a subject with him.
It must be confessed, on the other hand, that Granvelle repaid the enmity of his old associate with a malevolence equal to his own, and if Renard did not lose his head as well as his political station, it was not for want of sufficient insinuation on the part of the minister.
Then came that dazzling offer for the second series.... I accepted it. I accepted the third likewise; and I have told you about the fourth.... I have tried to kill Martin Renard. He was killing me. I have, in the pages of the Falchion, actually killed him; but I have had to resuscitate him. I cannot escape from him....
No one in Issoudun, not even Potel or Renard, dared broach so delicate a subject with him.
She waited until he had departed, and then turning to the native, with the dignity of her sex in her voice and manner, she added: "What would Le Renard say to the daughter of Munro?"
The Falchion had just begun to print the third series of my Martin Renard; and this had been made the occasion of another of Schofield's ponderous compliments. I acknowledged it with none too much graciousness; and then he said: "I've na doubt, Harrison, that by this time the famous sleuth-hound of crime has become quite a creature of flesh and blood to ye."
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