Book-bot.com - read famous books online for free

The Slave of the Lamp by Henry Seton Merriman
page 79 of 314 (25%)
lingered there long. It was not built upon smiling lines at all.

Then he took up his letters. There were only two of them: one bearing
the postmark of a small town in Morbihan, the other hailing from
England.

He replaced the first in his pocket unread; the second he opened. It was
written in French.

"There are difficulties," it said. "Can you come to me? Cross from
Cherbourg to Southampton--train from thence to this place, and ask for
Signor Bruno, an Italian refugee, living at the house of Mrs. Potter, a
_ci-devant_ laundress."

The Citizen Morot rubbed his chin thoughtfully with the back of his
hand, making a sharp, grating sound.

"That old man," he said, "is getting past his work. He is losing nerve;
and nerve is a thing that we cannot afford to lose."

Then he turned to the letter again.

"Ah!" he exclaimed suddenly; "St. Mary Western. He is there--how very
strange. What a singular coincidence!"

He fell into a reverie with the letter before him.

"Carew is dead--but still I can manage it. Perhaps it is just as well
that he is dead. I was always afraid of Carew."

DigitalOcean Referral Badge