“The foreign-post-paper,” he whispered, himself greatly excited, with quivering hands.
There was a long silence. All four felt as if their hearts were ready to burst from their bodies; and they were afraid of what was coming.
“Please, please . . .” stammered Clarisse.
Lupin unfolded the paper.
There was a set of names written one below the other, twenty-seven of them, the twenty-seven names of the famous list: Langeroux, Dechaumont, Vorenglade, d’Albufex, Victorien Mergy and the rest.
And, at the foot, the signature of the chairman of the Two-Seas Canal Company, the signature written in letters of blood.
Lupin looked at his watch:
“A quarter to one,” he said. “We have twenty minutes to spare. Let’s have some lunch.”
“But,” said Clarisse, who was already beginning to lose her head, “don’t forget....”
He simply said: