He seemed to have recovered his
self-control.
"No, Monsieur."
"Think, Monsieur! For, if you persist in your strange refusal, I
shall be under the painful necessity of keeping you at my
disposition."
"I refuse."
"Monsieur Darzac!--in the name of the law, I arrest you!"
The magistrate had no sooner pronounced the words than I saw
Rouletabille move quickly towards Monsieur Darzac. He would
certainly have spoken to him, but Darzac, by a gesture, held
him off. As the gendarme approached his prisoner, a despairing
cry rang through the room:
"Robert!--Robert!"
We recognised the voice of Mademoiselle Stangerson. We all
shuddered. Larsan himself turned pale. Monsieur Darzac, in response
to the cry, had flown back into the room.
The magistrate, the gendarme, and Larsan followed closely after.
Rouletabille and I remained on the threshold. It was a
heart-breaking sight that met our eyes. Mademoiselle Stangerson,
with a face of deathly pallor, had risen on her bed, in spite of
the restraining efforts of two doctors and her father.
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