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Stevenson, Robert Louis

"The Wrecker"


There was but one place reserved, the garden-room,
whither Lady Ann had now retired. I paused a moment on
the outside of the door, and smiled to myself. The
situation was indeed strange, and these thin boards
divided the secret of the FLYING SCUD.
All the while, as I went to and fro, I was considering
the visit and departure of Bellairs. That he had got
the address, I was quite certain; that he had not got
it by direct questioning, I was convinced; some
ingenuity, some lucky accident, had served him. A
similar chance, an equal ingenuity, was required, or I
was left helpless; the ferret must run down his prey,
the great oaks fall, the Raphaels be scattered, the
house let to some stockbroker suddenly made rich, and
the name which now filled the mouths of five or six
parishes dwindle to a memory. Strange that such great
matters, so old a mansion, a family so ancient and so
dull, should come to depend for perpetuity upon the
intelligence, the discretion, and the cunning of a
Latin-Quarter student! What Bellairs had done, I must
do likewise.


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