Последний отзыв
Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
Далее
По всем вопросам обращайтесь на: info@litportal.ru
(©) 2003-2025.
✖
813
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
"It's quite obvious! He is making the most of certain curious coincidences, but he knows nothing; and his story about gold coins and his narcotic are so many inventions! If we lend ourselves to his little game any longer, he'll slip out of your fingers. Your car, Waldemar."
The count gave his orders and returned. Lupin had not woke up. The Emperor, who was looking round the room, said to Waldemar:
"This is the Minerva room, is it not?"
"Yes, Sire."
"But then why is there an 'N' in two places?"
There were, in fact, two "N's," one over the chimneypiece, the other over an old dilapidated clock fitted into the wall and displaying a complicated set of works, with weights hanging lifeless at the end of their cords.
"The two 'N's'." said Waldemar.
The Emperor did not listen to the answer. Lupin had moved again, opening his eyes and uttering indistinct syllables. He stood up, walked across the room and fell down from sheer weakness.
Then came the struggle, the desperate struggle of his brain, his nerves, his will against that hideous, paralyzing torpor, the struggle of a dying man against death, the struggle of life against extinction. And the sight was one of infinite sadness.
"He is suffering," muttered Waldemar.
"Or at least, he is pretending to suffer," declared the Emperor, "and pretending very cleverly at that. What an actor!"
Lupin stammered:
"An injection, doctor, an injection of caffeine.. at once.."
"May I, Sire?" asked the doctor.
"Certainly… Until twelve o'clock, do all that he asks. He has my promise."
"How many minutes.. before twelve o'clock?" asked Lupin.
"Forty," said somebody.
"Forty?.. I shall do it… I am sure to do it… I've got to do it.." He took his head in his two hands. "Oh, if I had my brain, the real brain, the brain that thinks! It would be a matter of a second! There is only one dark spot left.. but I cannot.. my thoughts escape me… I can't grasp it.. it's awful."
His shoulders shook. Was he crying?
They heard him repeating:
"813.. 813.." And, in a lower voice, "813.. an '8'.. a '1'.. a '3'.. yes, of course… But why?.. That's not enough.."
The Emperor muttered:
"He impresses me. I find it difficult to believe that a man can play a part like that.."
Half-past eleven struck.. a quarter to twelve..
Lupin remained motionless, with his fists glued to his temples.
The Emperor waited, with his eyes fixed on a chronometer which Waldemar held in his hand.
Ten minutes more.. five minutes more.
"Is the car there, Waldemar?.. Are your men ready?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Is that watch of yours a repeater, Waldemar?"
"Yes, Sire."
"At the last stroke of twelve, then.."
"But."
"At the last stroke of twelve, Waldemar."
There was really something tragic about the scene, that sort of grandeur and solemnity which the hours assume at the approach of a possible miracle, when it seems as though the voice of fate itself were about to find utterance.
The Emperor did not conceal his anguish. This fantastic adventurer who was called Arsène Lupin and whose amazing life he knew, this man troubled him.. and, although he was resolved to make an end of all this dubious story, he could not help waiting.. and hoping.
Two minutes more.. one minute more.
Then they counted by seconds.
Lupin seemed asleep.
"Come, get ready," said the Emperor to the count.
The count went up to Lupin and placed his hand on his shoulder.
The silvery chime of the repeater quivered and struck.. one, two, three, four, five.
"Waldemar, old chap, pull the weights of the old clock."
A moment of stupefaction. It was Lupin's voice, speaking very calmly.
Waldemar, annoyed at the familiarity of the address, shrugged his shoulders.
"Do as he says, Waldemar," said the Emperor.
"Yes, do as I say, my dear count," echoed Lupin, recovering his powers of chaff. "You know the ropes so well.. all you have to do is to pull those of the clock.. in turns.. one, two.. capital!.. That's how they used to wind it up in the old days."
The pendulum, in fact, was started; and they heard its regular ticking.
"Now the hands," said Lupin. "Set them at a little before twelve.. Don't move.. Let me."
He rose and walked to the face of the clock, standing two feet away, at most, with his eyes fixed, with every nerve attentive.
The count gave his orders and returned. Lupin had not woke up. The Emperor, who was looking round the room, said to Waldemar:
"This is the Minerva room, is it not?"
"Yes, Sire."
"But then why is there an 'N' in two places?"
There were, in fact, two "N's," one over the chimneypiece, the other over an old dilapidated clock fitted into the wall and displaying a complicated set of works, with weights hanging lifeless at the end of their cords.
"The two 'N's'." said Waldemar.
The Emperor did not listen to the answer. Lupin had moved again, opening his eyes and uttering indistinct syllables. He stood up, walked across the room and fell down from sheer weakness.
Then came the struggle, the desperate struggle of his brain, his nerves, his will against that hideous, paralyzing torpor, the struggle of a dying man against death, the struggle of life against extinction. And the sight was one of infinite sadness.
"He is suffering," muttered Waldemar.
"Or at least, he is pretending to suffer," declared the Emperor, "and pretending very cleverly at that. What an actor!"
Lupin stammered:
"An injection, doctor, an injection of caffeine.. at once.."
"May I, Sire?" asked the doctor.
"Certainly… Until twelve o'clock, do all that he asks. He has my promise."
"How many minutes.. before twelve o'clock?" asked Lupin.
"Forty," said somebody.
"Forty?.. I shall do it… I am sure to do it… I've got to do it.." He took his head in his two hands. "Oh, if I had my brain, the real brain, the brain that thinks! It would be a matter of a second! There is only one dark spot left.. but I cannot.. my thoughts escape me… I can't grasp it.. it's awful."
His shoulders shook. Was he crying?
They heard him repeating:
"813.. 813.." And, in a lower voice, "813.. an '8'.. a '1'.. a '3'.. yes, of course… But why?.. That's not enough.."
The Emperor muttered:
"He impresses me. I find it difficult to believe that a man can play a part like that.."
Half-past eleven struck.. a quarter to twelve..
Lupin remained motionless, with his fists glued to his temples.
The Emperor waited, with his eyes fixed on a chronometer which Waldemar held in his hand.
Ten minutes more.. five minutes more.
"Is the car there, Waldemar?.. Are your men ready?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Is that watch of yours a repeater, Waldemar?"
"Yes, Sire."
"At the last stroke of twelve, then.."
"But."
"At the last stroke of twelve, Waldemar."
There was really something tragic about the scene, that sort of grandeur and solemnity which the hours assume at the approach of a possible miracle, when it seems as though the voice of fate itself were about to find utterance.
The Emperor did not conceal his anguish. This fantastic adventurer who was called Arsène Lupin and whose amazing life he knew, this man troubled him.. and, although he was resolved to make an end of all this dubious story, he could not help waiting.. and hoping.
Two minutes more.. one minute more.
Then they counted by seconds.
Lupin seemed asleep.
"Come, get ready," said the Emperor to the count.
The count went up to Lupin and placed his hand on his shoulder.
The silvery chime of the repeater quivered and struck.. one, two, three, four, five.
"Waldemar, old chap, pull the weights of the old clock."
A moment of stupefaction. It was Lupin's voice, speaking very calmly.
Waldemar, annoyed at the familiarity of the address, shrugged his shoulders.
"Do as he says, Waldemar," said the Emperor.
"Yes, do as I say, my dear count," echoed Lupin, recovering his powers of chaff. "You know the ropes so well.. all you have to do is to pull those of the clock.. in turns.. one, two.. capital!.. That's how they used to wind it up in the old days."
The pendulum, in fact, was started; and they heard its regular ticking.
"Now the hands," said Lupin. "Set them at a little before twelve.. Don't move.. Let me."
He rose and walked to the face of the clock, standing two feet away, at most, with his eyes fixed, with every nerve attentive.
Другие электронные книги автора Maurice Leblanc
Последний отзыв
Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
Далее