And so the mysterious cottage was mine to ransack if I could pluck its
secrets from it. I lifted the book which had been left upon the table.
It was Rousseau's 'Social Contract'--excellent literature, but hardly
what one would expect a trader to carry with him whilst awaiting an
appointment with smugglers. On the fly-leaf was written 'Lucien
Lesage,' and beneath it, in a woman's hand, 'Lucien, from Sibylle.'
Lesage, then, was the name of my good-looking but sinister acquaintance.
It only remained for me now to discover what it was which he had
concealed up the chimney. I listened intently, and as there was no
sound from without save the cry of the storm, I stepped on to the edge
of the grate as I had seen him do, and sprang up by the side of the
fire.
It was a very broad, old-fashioned cottage chimney, so that standing on
one side I was not inconvenienced either by the heat or by the smoke,
and the bright glare from below showed me in an instant that for which I
sought. There was a recess at the back, caused by the fall or removal
of one of the stones, and in this was lying a small bundle.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53