The Hollow Needle Maurice Leblanc (good short books .txt) đ
- Author: Maurice Leblanc
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âNo, not either.â
Isidore continued his inquiries all through the morning. He was on the point of leaving for Quillebeuf, when the waiter of the inn at which he had spent the night said:
âI came back from my thirteen daysâ training on the morning of which you are speaking and I saw a cart, but it did not go across.â
âReally?â
âNo, they unloaded it onto a flat boat, a barge of sorts, which was moored to the wharf.â
âAnd where did the cart come from?â
âOh, I knew it at once. It belonged to Master Vatinel, the carter.â
âAnd where does he live?â
âAt Louvetot.â
Beautrelet consulted his military map. The hamlet of Louvetot lay where the highroad between Yvetot and Caudebec was crossed by a little winding road that ran through the woods to La Mailleraie.
Not until six oâclock in the evening did Isidore succeed in discovering Master Vatinel, in a pothouse. Master Vatinel was one of those artful old Normans who are always on their guard, who distrust strangers, but who are unable to resist the lure of a gold coin or the influence of a glass or two:
âWell, yes, sir, the men in the motor car that morning had told me to meet them at five oâclock at the crossroads. They gave me four great, big things, as high as that. One of them went with me and we carted the things to the barge.â
âYou speak of them as if you knew them before.â
âI should think I did know them! It was the sixth time they were employing me.â
Isidore gave a start:
âThe sixth time, you say? And since when?â
âWhy every day before that one, to be sure! But it was other things thenâ âgreat blocks of stoneâ âor else smaller, longish ones, wrapped up in newspapers, which they carried as if they were worth I donât know what. Oh, I mustnât touch those on any account!â âBut whatâs the matter? Youâve turned quite white.â
âNothingâ âthe heat of the roomâ ââ
Beautrelet staggered out into the air. The joy, the surprise of the discovery made him feel giddy. He went back very quietly to Varengeville, slept in the village, spent an hour at the mayorâs offices with the schoolmaster and returned to the chĂąteau. There he found a letter awaiting him âcare of M. le Comte de Gesvres.â It consisted of a single line:
âSecond warning. Hold your tongue. If notâ ââ
âCome,â he muttered. âI shall have to make up my mind and take a few precautions for my personal safety. If not, as they sayâ ââ
It was nine oâclock. He strolled about among the ruins and then lay down near the cloisters and closed his eyes.
âWell, young man, are you satisfied with the results of your campaign?â
It was M. Filleul.
âDelighted, Monsieur le Juge dâInstruction.â
âBy which you mean to sayâ â?â
âBy which I mean to say that I am prepared to keep my promiseâ âin spite of this very uninviting letter.â
He showed the letter to M. Filleul.
âPooh! Stuff and nonsense!â cried the magistrate. âI hope you wonât let that prevent youâ ââ
âFrom telling you what I know? No, Monsieur le Juge dâInstruction. I have given my word and I shall keep it. In less than ten minutes, you shall knowâ âa part of the truth.â
âA part?â
âYes, in my opinion, Lupinâs hiding-place does not constitute the whole of the problem. Far from it. But we shall see later on.â
âM. Beautrelet, nothing that you do could astonish me now. But how were you able to discoverâ â?â
âOh, in a very natural way! In the letter from old man Harlington to M. Ătienne de Vaudreix, or rather to Lupinâ ââ
âThe intercepted letter?â
âYes. There is a phrase which always puzzled me. After saying that the pictures are to be forwarded as arranged, he goes on to say, âYou may add the rest, if you are able to succeed, which I doubt.âââ
âYes, I remember.â
âWhat was this ârestâ? A work of art, a curiosity? The chĂąteau contains nothing of any value besides the Rubenses and the tapestries. Jewelry? There is very little and what there is of it is not worth much. In that case, what could it be?â âOn the other hand, was it conceivable that people so prodigiously clever as Lupin should not have succeeded in adding âthe rest,â which they themselves had evidently suggested? A difficult undertaking, very likely; exceptional, surprising, I dare say; but possible and therefore certain, since Lupin wished it.â
âAnd yet he failed: nothing has disappeared.â
âHe did not fail: something has disappeared.â
âYes, the Rubensesâ âbutâ ââ
âThe Rubenses and something besidesâ âsomething which has been replaced by a similar thing, as in the case of the Rubenses; something much more uncommon, much rarer, much more valuable than the Rubenses.â
âWell, what? Youâre killing me with this procrastination!â
While talking, the two men had crossed the ruins, turned toward the little door and were now walking beside the chapel. Beautrelet stopped:
âDo you really want to know, Monsieur le Juge dâInstruction?â
âOf course, I do.â
Beautrelet was carrying a walking-stick, a strong, knotted stick. Suddenly, with a back stroke of this stick, he smashed one of the little statues that adorned the front of the chapel.
âWhy, youâre mad!â shouted M. Filleul, beside himself, rushing at the broken pieces of the statue. âYouâre mad! That old saint was an admirable bit of workâ ââ
âAn admirable bit of work!â echoed Isidore, giving a whirl which brought down the Virgin Mary.
M. Filleul took hold of him round the body:
âYoung man, I wonât allow you to commitâ ââ
A wise man of the East came toppling to the ground, followed by a manger containing the Mother and Child.â ââ âŠ
âIf you stir another limb, I fire!â
The Comte de Gesvres had appeared upon the scene and was cocking his revolver. Beautrelet burst out laughing:
âThatâs right, Monsieur le Comte, blaze away!â âTake a shot at them, as if you were at a fair!â âWait a bitâ âthis chap carrying his head in his handsâ ââ
St. John the Baptist fell, shattered to pieces.
âOh!â shouted the count, pointing his revolver. âYou young vandal!â âThose masterpieces!â
âSham, Monsieur le Comte!â
âWhat? Whatâs that?â roared M. Filleul, wresting the
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