Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 4, 2025
One night a lonely but well-dressed stranger entered the restaurant and seated himself in a corner almost unnoticed, save by Valentine and myself. The new-comer was the audacious Bindo, passing as Mr. Bellingham, an Englishman, but he gave us no sign of recognition. Indeed, the days went on, but he never approached either of us.
Pope Clement VII being dead and Paul III elected, M. Bindo Altoviti caused Francesco to paint on the façade of his house at the Ponte S. Agnolo the arms of the new Pontiff, with some large nude figures, which gave infinite satisfaction.
"We must be careful very careful." "Yes. We mustn't meet again unless absolutely necessary. I'm just going up the hill to the post-office to send a cipher message to Bindo. He ought to be here at once. Good-bye." And he turned the corner and left me. The sudden appearance of the long-nosed person puzzled me greatly. Was it possible that we had fallen beneath the active surveillance of the Sureté?
The idea of an old thief like Blythe writing to Scotland Yard was, to me, distinctly amusing. Had Bindo sent him to Beaulieu to keep in touch with Pierrette? I wondered. At any rate, I felt that I must contrive to see him in secret and ascertain what really was in progress.
One of them, however, is declared by the groom to be a man he had met in the neighbourhood two days before; therefore it would seem as though the affair had been very carefully planned." "Most extraordinary!" declared Bindo, while a chorus of surprise and horror went around the table. "And the boy is missing with the assassins?" "Yes; they have apparently taken him away with them.
"Oh yes," I replied, determined not to be thought a new hand. "Quite a long time. As you say, he is a very charming man." "He's very wealthy, according to report. I read something about him in the papers the other day a gift of some thousands to the Hospital Fund." This rather surprised me. I never remembered having seen the name of Count Bindo di Ferraris in the papers.
I have since heard, however, that at Scotland Yard there is a proverb that the wealthier the thief the less chance of his being caught. Bindo and his friends certainly did not lack funds. The various hauls they had made, even since my association with them, must have put many thousands into their pockets. They were a clever and daring trio.
The shock had upset my nerves considerably, but, accompanied by Blythe and Bindo, I drove the car down to Dover, took her across to Calais, and then drove across France to Marseilles, and along the Riviera to Genoa and Pisa, and on to Florence a delightful journey, which I had accomplished on three previous occasions, for we preferred the car to the stuffy wagon-lit of the Rome express.
The grey February afternoon had been bitterly cold, and for an hour I had waited there half frozen. Since morning Count Bindo di Ferraris and myself had been on the road, coming up from Shrewsbury, and, tired out, I was anxious to get into the garage. As chauffeur to a trio of perhaps the most expert "crooks" in Europe, my life was the reverse of uneventful.
Remember, we are old friends. How long have you been married?" "Only three weeks. This is my honeymoon." "And your husband?" "Four days ago business took him to Genoa. He is still absent." "And, in the meanwhile, you meet me, and are the merry little Gabrielle of the old days eh?" remarked Bindo, placing both elbows upon the marble-topped table and looking straight into her face.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking