The owner suspected immediately what it
must be. His bath! The famous tub of gold! . . . Then with an abrupt
revulsion of feeling, he felt no grief at his loss. He now detested the
ostentatious thing, attributing to it a fatal influence. On account of
it he was here. But, ay! . . . the other furnishings piled up in the
drays! . . . In that moment he suffered the extreme agony of misery and
impotence. It was impossible for him to defend his property, to dispute
with the head thief who was sacking his castle, tranquilly ignoring the
very existence of the owner. "Robbers! thieves!" and he fled back to the
lodge.
He passed the remainder of the morning with his elbow on the table, his
head in his hands, the same as the day before, letting the hours grind
slowly by, trying not to hear the rolling of the vehicles that were
bearing away these credentials of his wealth.
Toward midday, the Keeper announced that an officer who had arrived a
few hours before in an automobile was inquiring for him.
Responding to this summons, Desnoyers encountered outside the lodge,
a captain arrayed like the others in sheathed and pointed helmet,
in mustard-colored uniform, red leather boots, sword, revolver,
field-glasses and geographic map hanging in a case from his belt. He
appeared young; on his sleeve was the staff emblem.
"Do you know me? .
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