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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Peuh!" declared he: "With fellows like you, who are perpetually disguising themselves, changing their faces as I change my collars, one never knows."... Suddenly Dumoulin's face lighted up. "Tuesday, November 29th, you were in the shoes of Vinson is that so?" "Yes, Commandant." "Very well. This same Tuesday, November 29th, you were at the Elysée ball as Jérôme Fandor! So you see!"
Imagine the shock on our populace if a single cruise missile were actually allowed to score a direct hit on the Carl Vinson aircraft carrier during a Solid Shield joint exercise with the attendant loss of life numbering in the 4,000 to 5,000 range. You would think the maritime force would reexamine the method it provides air power from the sea, vital yet today too vulnerable.
He was convinced he had Corporal Vinson before his eyes; but he also thought he had his grip on the individual who had left Paris the night before, accompanied by an ecclesiastic, for the purpose of handing over to a foreign power a most important piece of a gun stolen from the Arsenal, as well as the descriptive plan that went with it.
Vinson dared not risk a movement: he stood rigid, motionless. Whoever was at the door must be led to think that there was not a living soul in Fandor's flat. Again the bell rang, a violent ring: it was the ring of someone who does not mean to go away, who knows that the delay in opening the door is deliberate. "Plague take that porter!" murmured the corporal. "I'll wager."...
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.
It was a nervous time, but we had not long to wait before we heard the dull sound of galloping feet, and several horses came in sight, followed by the big bushranger mounted on a powerful steed. I could nowhere see Vinson, so that he at all events would have a chance of escaping. The horses came rushing on, and as they got near the fire separated, some on one side, some on the other.
Careful of his smart appearance, the corporal examined himself in the glass: the reflection was so satisfactory that he broke into smiles undoubtedly his uniform suited him. There was a violent ring at the door-bell. Vinson jumped: he began to tremble. "Who can it be at this hour?" he asked himself. "I was sure something would happen! I was bound to catch it somehow!"
Could one but lay hands on the originator of the initial thread, or the master-spider himself, then they could strike at the extreme ends of this evil tissue. Fandor admonished Vinson for a long time. Our journalist was now eloquent, now persuasive: he heaped argument on argument, he appealed to his self-respect, to duty!
"He has gone to the country of dreams: he sleeps standing." In brotherly fashion, the policeman guided the young man towards the shelter: settled him in, and left him. He was within call if needed; meanwhile, he could have his sleep out. Filling his pipe afresh, Juve resumed his walk along the quay. He was uneasy; he was also in a bad humour. Why did Vinson and this priest tarry on the way?
Lieutenant Servin approached: in a low voice he said: "Commandant! Someone wishes you to see him immediately." Servin handed his superior a card. On it the commandant read: Inspector Juve, Detective Force, Police Headquarters. "What does he want?" "He is the detective who arrested Vinson." "Well," exclaimed the exasperated Dumoulin, "he arrives at the right moment! Let him come in!"
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