Explore "The Bird of Paradise" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
At the sound of the stroke of the hour of three, a metallic yet somehow significant chime, from the chapel hidden in the lighthouse woods. Mermillon rose slowly to his feet and leaned over the side of the boat. The Baron, in his pyjamas and dressing-gown, had already taken his place there. The seconds passed without a word between the two men. The commander of the French gunboat was evidently qualifying for promotion. The play of the searchlights had ceased some five minutes before. Black darkness enveloped the small bay. The long slanting beam from the Antibes lighthouse passed over the top of the woods, searched the far seas, but it did nothing to illumine the sombre obscurity below. Mermillon drew a little nearer to his companion. A very rare emotion trembled in his voice.
"If Chicotin succeeds," he said, "It will be within the next five minutes."