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Updated: June 28, 2025
The chief policeman explained. The Colonel turned to Charles. "Your name, sir?" he inquired. "You know it very well," Charles answered. "I am Sir Charles Vandrift; and, in spite of your clever disguise, I can instantly recognise you. I know your eyes and ears. I can see the same man who cheated me at Nice, and who insulted me on the island." "You Sir Charles Vandrift!" the rogue cried.
"SIR CHARLES VANDRIFT Herewith I return your dispatch-box, intact, with the papers untouched. As you will readily observe, it has not even been opened. "You will ask me the reason for this strange conduct. Let me be serious for once, and tell you truthfully.
He admitted that he was Sir Charles Vandrift, the famous millionaire, and that he had suffered egregiously from the endless machinations of a certain Colonel Clay, a machiavellian rogue, who had hounded him relentlessly round the capitals of Europe.
As we left the room, I heard but one comment all round, thus voiced by a school-boy: "I'd a jolly sight rather it had been old Vandrift. This Clay chap's too clever by half to waste on a prison!" But he went there, none the less in that "cool sequestered vale of life" to recover equilibrium; though I myself half regretted it. I will add but one more little parting episode.
Let's shoulder our wallets at once, and I will to some distant land, where no man doth me know." "Mars or Mercury?" I inquired; "for, in our own particular planet, I'm afraid you'll find it just a trifle difficult for Sir Charles Vandrift to hide his light under a bushel." "Oh, I'll manage it," Charles answered.
No, no, Sir Charles Vandrift; I know too well how much you are worth to me. I return you on my income-tax paper as five thousand a year, clear profit of my profession. Suppose you were to die! I might be compelled to find some new and far less lucrative source of plunder. Your heirs, executors, or assignees might not suit my purpose.
"No, no, sir, you are a madman!" He looked round at the police. "Take care what you do!" he cried. "This is a raving maniac. I had business just now with Sir Charles Vandrift, who quitted the room as these gentlemen entered. This person is mad, and you, monsieur, I doubt not," bowing to me, "you are, of course, his keeper."
Paul Finglemore drew back even while we held his shoulders. "No, not you, sir," he said to the man, haughtily. "Don't dare to lay your hands upon me! Send for a constable if you wish, Sir Charles Vandrift; but I decline to be taken into custody by a valet!" "Go for a policeman," Dr. Beddersley said to Simpson, standing forward. The prisoner eyed him up and down. "Oh, Dr.
"Why, you're not going back to Glen-Ellachie to-night, surely?" Charles exclaimed, in amazement. "Lady Vandrift will be so disappointed! Besides, this business can't be arranged between two trains, do you think, Mr. Granton?" Young Granton smiled. He had an agreeable smile canny, yet open. "Oh no," he said frankly. "I didn't mean to go back. I've put up at the inn.
His mien was resolute. Altogether, a quainter or 'cuter little man it has never yet been my lot to set eyes on. He walked in with a brisk step, eyed Charles up and down, and then, without much formality, asked for what he was wanted. "This is Sir Charles Vandrift, the great diamond king," Marvillier said, introducing us. "So I see," the man answered. "Then you know me?" Charles asked.
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