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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Now," demanded he, crushing Gevrol with one disdainful glance, "what thinks the investigating magistrate after this?" "That, thanks to your remarkable penetration, we shall discover " He did not finish. The doctor summoned to make the post-mortem examination entered the room. That unpleasant task accomplished, it only confirmed the assertions and conjectures of old Tabaret.
"She is dead!" In spite of his impatience, old Tabaret dared not utter a word. Besides he felt keenly the profound sorrow of his young friend, and respected it. After a rather long silence, Noel raised his head, and returned to the correspondence. "All the letters which follow," said he, "carry traces of the preoccupation of my father's mind on the subject of his bastard son.
"Oh! oh! oh!" said old Tabaret, in three different tones, plainly implying that this criminal was evidently superior to others of his species. "And where did this happen?" "In a wine-shop near the barriere." "Oh, yes, I recollect: a man named May. The murders were committed in the Widow Chupin's cabin.
This was not at all what old Tabaret wanted. "The more I ponder over your history, my dear Noel," he observed, "the more I am bewildered. I really do not know what resolution I should adopt, were I in your situation." "Yes, my old friend," replied the advocate sadly, "it is a situation that might well perplex even more profound experiences than yours."
Half of my fortune would be but a small sacrifice. If I should not succeed! If, after having caused the evil, I should find myself powerless to undo it!" Old Tabaret went to bed, shuddering at this last thought. He fell asleep, and had a terrible nightmare.
To betray me more securely, to despoil me, to rob me, to give to her bastard all that lawfully appertained to me; my name, a noble name, my fortune, a princely inheritance!" "We are getting near it!" thought old Tabaret, who was fast relapsing into the colleague of M. Gevrol; then aloud he said, "This is very serious, all that you have been saying, my dear Noel, terribly serious.
One man ran out; while the others, under old Tabaret's direction, raised the body, and carried it to Madame Juliette's bedroom where they laid it on the bed. "For his sake, I trust his wounds are mortal!" murmured the old detective, whose anger left him at the sight. "After all, I loved him as though he were my own child; his name is still in my will!" Old Tabaret stopped.
Suddenly she would spring up impetuously like a spring that is unwound, like a serpent that uncoils itself, and would begin to dance, almost without moving her feet, waving her lithe limbs.... And he would smile with stupefied infatuation, extending a right hand toward an Arabian tabaret, covered with bottles. Freya took even greater care of the supply of liquor than of things to eat.
"Be assured, Monsieur Tabaret, that this mistake has cost me enough to make me realize the danger of allowing a well-disposed witness's zeal to cool down." "We will say no more about that, then. But I must tell you that three or four times, at least, it has been in your power to clear up this mystery." The oracle paused, awaiting some protestation from his disciple. None came, however.
With his retreating forehead, and his immense ears, his odious turned-up nose, tiny eyes, and coarse, thick lips, M. Tabaret seemed an excellent type of the ignorant, pennywise, petty rentier class. Whenever he took his walks abroad, the juvenile street Arabs would impudently shout after him or try to mimic his favorite grimace.
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