All Chapters of Dark souls: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60
71 chapters
47
The young man looked from the captain to Bertrand.I only said what I heard from the consul. Despite his youth, his eyes shone with the mind of a mature person. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Lieutenant Corte and Lieutenant Villandre, at your service. He nodded, clicking his heels. His friend in the background did the same. Michele looked at the young people carefully. Forgetfulness about his own idea seemed unmilitary to him. “Who then are these youths? he thought. - Young former aristocrats who crawled into the regiment in order to have weight with those around them? No, aristocrats don't have money, especially now. Sons of the new aristocracy? May be. Former shopkeepers and grooms who became ministers always had money. And how do I know their names? Corte and Villandre – interesting.” Bertrand, hearing their names, also looked at them attentively. But their faces were expressionless.If you want to be present while I get what I promised the First Consul, pleas
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48
Even at the entrance to the city, Michele noticed that his companion fell into some kind of strange stupor. He cast sidelong glances at the estranged Bertrand several times, but said nothing. It just frowned more and more. Bertrand, on the other hand, fell into a state that his father taught and which his mother, who was also his aunt, helped to develop. Living in Spain, they passed on to him much of the knowledge of their family. And when he spoke about his ancestor, who learned the secrets of the Egyptian priests, he did not lie at all in this. The ability of the Hindus to pretend to be dead and later resurrect themselves, the ability of the Egyptian priests to control the minds of others and force them to act in their own way, all this was more or less accessible to the Go and Mui clan. It was with the help of this gift that Bertrand hoped to mentally find Villardet and instill in him the same about Corta that he had inspired Michel. Michele, watching him, he didn't like him
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49
After examining Villardet, the doctor turned to Michele.I can’t say for sure, but this person most likely has a rupture of the vessels of the head. Metropolitan doctors would call it a stroke. But what could have affected his head so much, I find it difficult to say.So his death was due to natural causes? Michele stated.I can’t say for sure, but I don’t find any traces of the murder, - Aesculapius again folded his hands on his stomachI don’t dare to detain you any longer, - Michele nodded to the doctor, and he headed for the door.Dear, - Michele turned to the owner, who followed them like a shadow from room to room. “Do you have a clean sheet and a cold room?” I must return to Paris. What is urgent. If these two were okay, we would leave tomorrow morning. But now I must leave them to you. The owner frowned.I will add more, although I am not obliged to do so, - Michele stepped closer and lowered his voice. “That I am Captain Michele, orderly of the First Consul. Her
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50
So, - said Bertrand, pouring himself a full glass of water. - You still opened our respected host incognito?His basement will be very useful to Willarda while I return here with the hearse,” Michele grumbled, biting into the fragrant roast.With a hearse? Bertrand pushed the glass he was about to drink from his lips. Is Willard dead?Yes. The local doctor said that he had a rupture of some vessels in his head. Bertrand raised the glass to his lips again. A shadow passed over his face, but there was still surprise in his eyes.Strange,” he finally said, pushing the empty glass away. “It always seemed to me that healthy young people are being recruited into the army.In the insides, and especially in the head, it is quite difficult, you know, to penetrate, - Michele looked up from the plate. The mocking look of cold eyes angered him.Good, good, - Bertrand raised both hands with a smile in a conciliatory gesture. – I am a non-military, I don’t know how the recruitment takes pl
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51
History has not preserved the name of Jean Michele. For the simple reason that he was neither a famous military leader, nor a political figure, nor a famous writer or actor. And since he was the personal orderly of the First Consul, the memory of him remained in the personal records of Napoleon Bonaparte, who regretted that his faithful friend and assistant disappeared without a trace upon his arrival in Paris. Describing rumors that he had died in an inn, Napoleon sadly rejected this, because, knowing his executive orderly well, he could not believe that something other than an illness could lead him to a hotel, and not send him immediately with a report to him. Bertrand, who presented himself, handed over to the First Consul what he had gone for. The vicissitudes of the Spear of Destiny are also notable. History knows several tips that claim this name. It is not known whether the consul believed Bertrand, but historians describe a curious case of Napoleon's pursuit of the s
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52
A young man of slim build looked thoughtfully at the ghostly crescent of the moon, barely visible in the blue evening sky. His white face harmonized pleasantly with the white clouds drifting slowly past his window.It is, of course, good that you decided to celebrate the Boss's birthday, - he said without turning around. But I don't see much point in it.Won't you come with us? – the pale young man even got up from the chair in which he had been sitting before.No Justine. I don't want to waste time on this. You can manage without me. By the way, have you already chosen a victim?Yes, Bertrand, said another pale young man. Unlike the one they called Justine, he looked older and sterner. “He is a young man, an aspiring scientist. Or rather, he thinks so. Obsessed with English folklore. On this we caught him: we promised to show the wedding ceremony of one of the tribes of England that have sunk into oblivion, whose descendants we “accidentally” stumbled upon.A wedding, the young ma
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53
... They were driving for a long time among the walls of the forest, interspersed with small stop-stations and dark glades. At rare stops, a few passengers entered. Some of them threw sidelong glances at the four fellow travelers, among whose white faces stood out the infantile pink face of a young man framed by blond curly hair. Fellow travelers called him Charles and tried their best to please him. They must take me for a fan of male love, he thought irritably. Defiantly slamming the notebook, which he had previously kept on his knees, from time to time making some notes in it, he reached into his pocket and took out a thin cigarette.Not now, my friend. The dark-haired man sitting next to him gently placed his dainty hand, with its long manicured nails, on Charlie's plump hand. - Be patient a little. We'll be on our way soon. Charlie sighed and put away his cigarette. Then he opened the notebook and, sighing again, looked out the window. It was slowly but sure
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Upon closer examination, Charlie's gaze appeared to be a flat area, in the center of which burned the same fire that he had noticed from below. Around the fire, at a distance of about 9 yards, a circle was made of small fires of dry grass. Inside the circle was a pentagram, at the corners of which were driven five white pillars, previously noticed by Charlie, with dry bundles at the base. The sixth pillar stood somewhat at a distance from the fire, the pentagram and the circle. It had a horizontal bar and the same bundles of brushwood at the base. Charlie was breathless at what he saw, and he ignored the hooded men emerging from the darkness of the trees that surrounded the playground and the fire pit. One of them separated from the group and approached Charlie. He shuddered. Eyes as black as two coals looked at him from under the hood. At the bottom of those eyes, Charlie noticed a familiar red fire. This time it seemed to him that the fire was growing brighter and brighte
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They never found him! A pale young man ran in and slammed his fist on a massive table littered with papers, newspapers, maps, pencils and pens. Some of the impact rolled and fell to the floor, splattering the last of the ink. Bertrand de Gault calmly raised his eyes from the newspaper he was reading at that moment, and from under his forehead looked at the man who had run in.Peter, it's been several years since I expressed my desire to find Jack the Ripper," he said calmly. “Eight, to be exact. This is not a joke. They have already forgotten here, and few in France remember the “Boulanger case” *, and the collapse of the Panama Canal construction company **, and the Dreyfus affair ***, and the unrest of trade unions ****, which no one knows how else to end. There are many events, they do not keep up with each other, but every time you run into my office, like into a tavern. Yes, I know they didn't find it. What versions were put forward, one another is more interesting. They
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Many years have passed since the incomprehensible and terrible crimes of Jack the Ripper. But until now, his secret, like the secret of Jack the Jumper, who has been appearing in London for eighty years, has not been revealed. The suspects were from different walks of life. These are surgeons, since the bodies were gutted with skill, and crazy policemen, and the agent of the tsarist secret police, Russian doctor Mikhail Ostrog, and the grandson of Queen Victoria, Prince Albert Victor, and a certain Montague John Druitt, whose body was found in the Thames after last kill. Author William Stewart suggested that the Ripper was a female midwife who traded in clandestine abortions. John Ross, a former police officer who in the last years of his life was in charge of the police museum, claimed that the Ripper is Kosminsky, about whom almost nothing is known, except for his last name. In February 1894 analyst Sir Melvy D. McNaughton, Mr. Ross's predecessor, compiled a seven-page observation
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