“I shall be pleased to receive it, captain, but later on. You must excuse me now.”
VII
TWENTY-THREE MINUTES PAST TWELVE
The great hall that ran from Rue Raynouard to the upper terrace of the garden was filled to half its extent by a wide staircase and divided the Essarès house into two parts communicating only by way of the hall.
On the left were the drawing-room and the library, which was followed by an independent block containing a private staircase. On the right were a billiard-room and the dining-room, both with lower ceilings. Above these were Essarès Bey’s bedroom, on the street side, and Coralie’s, overlooking the garden. Beyond was the servants’ wing, where old Siméon also used to sleep.
Patrice was asked to wait in the billiard-room, with the Senegalese. He had been there about a quarter of an hour when Siméon and the maid were shown in.
The old secretary seemed quite paralyzed by the death of his employer and was holding forth under his breath, making queer gestures as he spoke. Patrice asked him how things were going; and the old fellow whispered in his ear:
“It’s not over yet . . . There’s something to fear . . . to fear! . . . To-day . . . presently.”
“Presently?” asked Patrice.
“Yes . . . yes,” said the old man, trembling.