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Read book online Β«The Secret Of The Night(Fiscle Part 3) by Gaston Leroux (readera ebook reader txt) πŸ“•Β».   Author   -   Gaston Leroux



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She Wept.  He Took Her In His Arms Like A

Child Consoling Its Mother.

 

"Don't Cry.  Don't Cry.  All Is Not Lost.  Someone Did Leave The

Villa This Morning."

 

"Oh,  Little Domovoi! How Is That?  How Is That?  How Did You Find

That Out?"

 

"Since We Didn't Find Anything Inside,  It Was Certainly Necessary To

Find Something Outside."

 

"And You Have Found It?"

 

"Certainly."

 

"The Virgin Protect You!"

 

"She Is With Us.  She Will Not Desert Us.  I Will Even Say That I

Believe She Has A Special Guardianship Over The Isles.  She Watches

Over Them From Evening To Morning."

 

"What Are You Saying?"

 

"Certainly.  You Don't Know What We Call In France 'The Watchers Of

The Virgin'?"

 

"Oh,  Yes,  They Are The Webs That The Dear Little Beasts Of The Good

God Spin Between The Trees And That..."

 

"Exactly.  You Understand Me And You Will Understand Further When

You Know That In The Garden The First Thing That Struck Me Across

The Face As I Went Into It Was These Watchers Of The Virgin Spun By

The Dear Little Spiders Of The Good God.  At First When I Felt Them

On My Face I Said To Myself,  'Hold On,  No One Has Passed This Way,'

And So I Went To Search Other Places.  The Webs Stopped Me

Part 1 Chapter 7 (Arsenate Of Soda) Pg 80

Everywhere In The Garden.  But,  Outside The Garden,  They Kept Out

Of The Way And Let Me Pass Undisturbed Down A Pathway Which Led To

The Neva.  So Then I Said To Myself,  'Now,  Has The Virgin By Accident

Overlooked Her Work In This Pathway?  Surely Not.  Someone Has

Ruined It.'  I Found The Shreds Of Them Hanging To The Bushes,  And

So I Reached The River."

 

"And You Threw Yourself Into The River,  My Dear Angel.  You Swim

Like A Little God."

 

"And I Landed Where The Other Landed.  Yes,  There Were The Reeds All

Freshly Broken.  And I Slipped In Among The Bushes."

 

"Where To?"

 

"Up To The Villa Krestowsky,  Madame - Where They Both Live."

 

"Ah,  It Was From There Someone Came?"

 

There Was A Silence Between Them.

 

She Questioned:

 

"Boris?"

 

"Someone Who Came From The Villa And Who Returned There.  Boris Or

Michael,  Or Another.  They Went And Returned Through The Reeds.

But In Coming They Used A Boat; They Returned By Swimming."

 

Her Customary Agitation Reasserted Itself.

 

She Demanded Ardently:

 

"And You Are Sure That He Came Here And That He Left Here?"

 

"Yes,  I Am Sure Of It."

 

"How?"

 

"By The Sitting-Room Window."

 

"It Is Impossible,  For We Found It Locked."

 

"It Is Possible,  If Someone Closed It Behind Him."

 

"Ah!"

 

She Commenced To Tremble Again,  And,  Falling Back Into Her

Nightmarish Horror,  She No Longer Wasted Fond Expletives On Her

Domovoi As On A Dear Little Angel Who Had Just Rendered A Service

Ten Times More Precious To Her Than Life.  While He Listened

Patiently,  She Said Brutally:

 

"Why Did You Keep Me From Throwing Myself On Him,  From Rushing Upon

Part 1 Chapter 7 (Arsenate Of Soda) Pg 81

Him As He Opened The Door?  Ah,  I Would Have,  I Would Have ... We

Would Know."

 

"No.  At The Least Noise He Would Have Closed The Door.  A Turn Of

The Key And He Would Have Escaped Forever.  And He Would Have Been

Warned."

 

"Careless Boy!  Why Then,  If You Knew He Was Going To Come,  Didn't

You Leave Me In The Bedroom And You Watch Below Yourself?"

 

"Because So Long As I Was Below He Would Not Have Come.  He Only

Comes When There Is No One Downstairs."

 

"Ah,  Saints Peter And Paul Pity A Poor Woman.  Who Do You Think It

Is,  Then?  Who Do You Think It Is?  I Can't Think Any More.  Tell

Me,  Tell Me That.  You Ought To Know - You Know Everything.  Come

- Who?  I Demand The Truth.  Who?  Still Some Agent Of The Committee,

Of The Central Committee?  Still The Nihilists?"

 

"If It Was Only That!" Said Rouletabille Quietly.

 

"You Have Sworn To Drive Me Mad!  What Do You Mean By Your 'If It

Was Only That'?"

 

Rouletabille,  Imperturbable,  Did Not Reply.

 

"What Have You Done With The Potion?" Said He.

 

"The Potion?  The Glass Of The Crime! I Have Locked It In My Room,

In The Cupboard - Safe,  Safe!"

 

"Ah,  But,  Madame,  It Is Necessary To Replace It Where You Took

It From."

 

"What!"

 

"Yes,  After Having Poured The Poison Into A Phial,  To Wash The Glass

And Fill It With Another Potion."

 

"You Are Right.  You Think Of Everything.  If The General Wakes And

Wants His Potion,  He Must Not Be Suspicious Of Anything,  And He Must

Be Able To Have His Drink."

 

"It Is Not Necessary That He Should Drink."

 

"Well,  Then,  Why Have The Drink There?"

 

"So That The Person Can Be Sure,  Madame,  That If He Has Not Drunk

It Is Simply Because He Has Not Wished To.  A Pure Chance,  Madame,

That He Is Not Poisoned.  You Understand Me This Time?"

 

"Yes,  Yes.  O Christ! But How Now,  If The General Wakes And Wishes

To Drink His Narcotic?"

 

"Tell Him I Forbid It.  And Here Is Another Thing You Must Do.

When - Someone - Comes Into The General's Chamber,  In The Morning,

You Must Quite Openly And Naturally Throw Out The Potion,  Useless

And Vapid,  You See,  And So Someone Will Have No Right To Be

Astonished That The General Continues To Enjoy Excellent Health."

 

"Yes,  Yes,  Little One; You Are Wiser Than King Solomon.  And What

Will I Do With The Phial Of Poison?"

 

"Bring It To Me."

 

"Right Away."

 

She Went For It And Returned Five Minutes Later.

 

"He Is Still Asleep.  I Have Put The Glass On The Table,  Out Of His

Reach.  He Will Have To Call Me."

 

"Very Good.  Then Push The Door To,  Close It; We Have To Talk

Things Over."

 

"But If Someone Goes Back Up The Servants' Staircase?"

 

"Be Easy About That.  They Think The General Is Poisoned Already.

It Is The First Care-Free Moment I Have Been Able To Enjoy In This

House."

 

"When Will You Stop Making Me Shake With Horror,  Little Demon!  You

Keep Your Secret Well,  I Must Say.  The General Is Sleeping Better

Than If He Really Were Poisoned.  But What Shall We Do About Natacha?

I Dare Ask You That - You And You Alone."

 

"Nothing At All."

 

"How - Nothing?"

 

"We Will Watch Her..."

 

"Ah,  Yes,  Yes."

 

"Still,  Matrena,  You Let Me Watch Her By Myself."

 

"Yes,  Yes,  I Promise You.  I Will Not Pay Any Attention To Her.

That Is Promised.  That Is Promised.  Do As You Please.  Why,  Just

Now,  When I Spoke Of The Nihilists To You,  Did You Say,  'If It Were

Only That!'?  You Believe,  Then,  That She Is Not A Nihilist?  She

Reads Such Things - Things Like On The Barricades..."

 

"Madame,  Madame,  You Think Of Nothing But Natacha.  You Have

Promised Me Not To Watch Her; Promise Me Not To Think About Her."

 

"Why,  Why Did You Say,  'If It Was Only That!'?"

 

"Because,  If There Were Only Nihilists In Your Affair,  Dear Madame,

Part 1 Chapter 7 (Arsenate Of Soda) Pg 82

It Would Be Too Simple,  Or,  Rather,  It Would Have Been More Simple.

Can You Possibly Believe,  Madame,  That Simply A Nihilist,  A Nihilist

Who Was Only A Nihilist,  Would Take Pains That His Bomb Exploded

From A Vase Of Flowers?  - That It Would Have Mattered Where,  So

Long As It Overwhelmed The General?  Do You Imagine That The Bomb

Would Have Had Less Effect Behind The Door Than In Front Of It?  And

The Little Cavity Under The Floor,  Do You Believe That A Genuine

Revolutionary,  Such As You Have Here In Russia,  Would Amuse Himself

By Penetrating To The Villa Only To Draw Out Two Nails From A Board,

When One Happens To Give Him Time Between Two Visits To The

Dining-Room?  Do You Suppose That A Revolutionary Who Wished To

Avenge The Dead Of Moscow And Who Could Succeed In Getting So Far

As The Door Behind Which General Trebassof Slept Would Amuse Himself

By Making A Little Hole With A Pin In Order To Draw Back The Bolt

And Amuse Himself By Pouring Poison Into A Glass?  Why,  In Such A

Case,  He Would Have Thrown His Bomb Outright,  Whether It Blew Him

Up Along With The Villa,  Or He Was Arrested On The Spot,  Or Had To

Submit To The Martyrdom Of The Dungeons In The Fortress Of Ss. Peter

And Paul,  Or Be Hung At Schlusselburg.  Isn't That What Always

Happens?  That Is The Way He Would Have Done,  And Not Have Acted

Like A Hotel-Rat!  Now,  There Is Someone In Your Home (Or Who Comes

To Your Home) Who Acts Like A Hotel-Rat Because He Does Not Wish To

Be Seen,  Because He Does Not Wish To Be Discovered,  Because He Does

Not Wish To Be Taken In The Act.  Now,  The Moment That He Fears

Nothing So Much As To Be Taken In The Act,  So That He Plays All

These Tricks Of Legerdemain,  It Is Certain That His Object Lies

Beyond The Act Itself,  Beyond The Bomb,  Beyond The Poison.  Why All

This Necessity For Bombs Of Deferred Explosion,  For Clockwork Placed

Where It Will Be Confused With Other Things,  And Not On A Bare

Staircase Forbidden To Everbody,  Though You Visit It Twenty Times

A Day?"

 

"But This Man Comes In As He Pleases By Day And By Night?  You Don't

Answer.  You Know Who He Is,  Perhaps?"

 

"I Know Him,  Perhaps,  But I Am Not Sure Who It Is Yet."

 

"You Are Not Curious,  Little Domovoi Doukh!  A Friend Of The House,

Certainly,  And Who Enters The House As He Wishes,  By Night,  Because

Someone Opens The Window For Him.  And Who Comes From The Krestowsky

Villa!  Boris Or Michael!  Ah,  Poor Miserable Matrena!  Why Don't

They Kill Poor Matrena?  Their General!  Their General!  And They

Are Soldiers - Soldiers Who Come At Night To Kill Their General.

Aided By - By Whom?  Do You Believe That?  You?  Light Of My Eyes!

You Believe That!  No,  No,  That Is Not Possible!  I Want You To

Understand,  Monsieur Le Domovoi,  That I Am Not Able To Believe

Anything So Horrible.  No,  No,  By Jesus Christ Who Died On The

Cross,  And Who Searches Our Hearts,  I Do Not Believe That Boris

- Who,  However,  Has Very Advanced Ideas,  I Admit - It Is Necessary

Not To Forget That; Very Advanced; And Who Composes Very Advanced

Verses Also,  As I Have Always Told Him - I Will Not Believe That

Boris Is Capable Of Such A Fearful Crime.  As To Michael,  He Is An

Honest Man,  And My Daughter,  My Natacha, 

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