eBooks Base 2000

On the back of each had been printed with a rubber stamp the
words:
"Vienna, Paris, Washington.
Chauvenet et Durand."
Armitage snatched up the coat which Chauvenet had so carefully placed on
the back of his chair, ran his hands through the pockets, found them
empty, then gathered the garment tightly in his hands, laughed a little
to himself to feel papers sewn into the lining, and laughed again as he
tore the lining loose and drew forth a flat linen envelope brilliant with
three seals of red wax.
Steps sounded below; a man was running up the back stairs; and from the
kitchen rose sounds of mighty groanings and cursings in the heavy
gutturals of the Servian, as he regained his wits and sought to explain
his plight.
Armitage picked up a chair, ran noiselessly to the head of the back
stairs, and looked down upon Chauvenet, who was hurrying up with a
flaming candle held high above his head, its light showing anxiety and
fear upon his face. He was half-way up the last flight, and Armitage
stood in the dark, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and
something, too, of humor.


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