THE EXTRAORDINARY ADVENTURES OF ARSÈNE LUPIN, GENTLEMAN-BURGLAR

By Maurice Leblanc

 Table of Contents:

 I. The Arrest of Arsène Lupin II. Arsène Lupin in Prison III. The Escape of Arsène Lupin IV. The Mysterious Traveller V. The Queen's Necklace VI. The Seven of Hearts VII. Madame Imbert's Safe VIII. The Black Pearl IX. Sherlock Holmes Arrives Too Late

I. The Arrest of Arsène Lupin

It was a strange ending to a voyage that had commenced in a mostauspicious manner. The transatlantic steamship `La Provence' was a swiftand comfortable vessel, under the command of a most affable man. Thepassengers constituted a select and delightful society. The charm ofnew acquaintances and improvised amusements served to make the time passagreeably. We enjoyed the pleasant sensation of being separated fromthe world, living, as it were, upon an unknown island, and consequentlyobliged to be sociable with each other. 

Have you ever stopped to consider how much originality and spontaneityemanate from these various individuals who, on the preceding evening, did not even know each other, and who are now, for several days, condemned to lead a life of extreme intimacy, jointly defying the angerof the ocean, the terrible onslaught of the waves, the violence of thetempest and the agonizing monotony of the calm and sleepy water? Sucha life becomes a sort of tragic existence, with its storms and itsgrandeurs, its monotony and its diversity; and that is why, perhaps, we embark upon that short voyage with mingled feelings of pleasure andfear. 

But, during the past few years, a new sensation had been added to thelife of the transatlantic traveler. The little floating island is nowattached to the world from which it was once quite free. A bond unitedthem, even in the very heart of the watery wastes of the Atlantic. Thatbond is the wireless telegraph, by means of which we receive news inthe most mysterious manner. We know full well that the message is nottransported by the medium of a hollow wire. No, the mystery is even moreinexplicable, more romantic, and we must have recourse to the wings ofthe air in order to explain this new miracle. During the first day ofthe voyage, we felt that we were being followed, escorted, precededeven, by that distant voice, which, from time to time, whispered to oneof us a few words from the receding world. Two friends spoke to me. Ten, twenty others sent gay or somber words of parting to other passengers. 

On the second day, at a distance of five hundred miles from the Frenchcoast, in the midst of a violent storm, we received the followingmessage by means of the wireless telegraph:

"Arsène Lupin is on your vessel, first cabin, blonde hair, wound rightfore-arm, traveling alone under name of R. .. .. .. . "

At that moment, a terrible flash of lightning rent the stormy skies. The electric waves were interrupted. The remainder of the dispatch neverreached us. Of the name under which Arsène Lupin was concealing himself, we knew only the initial. 

If the news had been of some other character, I have no doubt that thesecret would have been carefully guarded by the telegraphic operator aswell as by the officers of the vessel. But it was one of those eventscalculated to escape from the most rigorous discretion. The same day, noone knew how, the incident became a matter of current gossip and everypassenger was aware that the famous Arsène Lupin was hiding in ourmidst. 

Arsène Lupin in our midst! the irresponsible burglar whose exploitshad been narrated in all the newspapers during the past few months! themysterious individual with whom Ganimard, our shrewdest detective, had been engaged in an implacable conflict amidst interesting andpicturesque surroundings. Arsène Lupin, the eccentric gentleman whooperates only in the chateaux and salons, and who, one night, enteredthe residence of Baron Schormann, but emerged empty-handed, leaving, however, his card on which he had scribbled these words: "Arsène Lupin, gentleman-burglar, will return when the furniture is genuine. " ArsèneLupin, the man of a thousand disguises: in turn a chauffer, detective, bookmaker, Russian physician, Spanish bull-fighter, commercial traveler, robust youth, or decrepit old man. 

Then consider this startling situation: Arsène Lupin was wandering aboutwithin the limited bounds of a transatlantic steamer; in that very smallcorner of the world, in that dining saloon, in that smoking room, inthat music room! Arsène Lupin was, perhaps, this gentleman. .. . Or thatone. .. . My neighbor at the table. .. . The sharer of my stateroom. .. . 

"And this condition of affairs will last for five days!" exclaimed MissNelly Underdown, next morning. "It is unbearable! I hope he will bearrested. "

Then, addressing me, she added:

"And you, Monsieur d'Andrézy, you are on intimate terms with thecaptain; surely you know something?"

I should have been delighted had I possessed any information that wouldinterest Miss Nelly. She was one of those magnificent creatures whoinevitably attract attention in every assembly. Wealth and beauty forman irresistible combination, and Nelly possessed both. 

Educated in Paris under the care of a French mother, she was now goingto visit her father, the millionaire Underdown of Chicago. She wasaccompanied by one of her friends, Lady Jerland. 

At first, I had decided to open a flirtation with her; but, in therapidly growing intimacy of the voyage, I was soon impressed by hercharming manner and my feelings became too deep and reverential for amere flirtation. Moreover, she accepted my attentions with a certaindegree of favor. She condescended to laugh at my witticisms and displayan interest in my stories. Yet I felt that I had a rival in the personof a young man with quiet and refined tastes; and it struck me, attimes, that she preferred his taciturn humor to my Parisian frivolity. He formed one in the circle of admirers that surrounded Miss Nellyat the time she addressed to me the foregoing question. We were allcomfortably seated in our deck-chairs. The storm of the precedingevening had cleared the sky. The weather was now delightful. 

"I have no definite knowledge, mademoiselle, " I replied, "but can notwe, ourselves, investigate the mystery quite as well as the detectiveGanimard, the personal enemy of Arsène Lupin?"

"Oh! oh! you are progressing very fast, monsieur. "

"Not at all, mademoiselle. In the first place, let me ask, do you findthe problem a complicated one?"

"Very complicated. "

"Have you forgotten the key we hold for the solution to the problem?"

"What key?"

"In the first place, Lupin calls himself Monsieur R-------. "

"Rather vague information, " she replied. 

"Secondly, he is traveling alone. "

"Does that help you?" she asked. 

"Thirdly, he is blonde. "

"Well?"

"Then we have only to peruse the passenger-list, and proceed by processof elimination. "

I had that list in my pocket. I took it out and glanced through it. ThenI remarked:

"I find that there are only thirteen men on the passenger-list whosenames begin with the letter R. "

"Only thirteen?"

"Yes, in the first cabin. And of those thirteen, I find that nine ofthem are accompanied by women, children or servants. That leaves onlyfour who are traveling alone. First, the Marquis de Raverdan----"

"Secretary to the American Ambassador, " interrupted Miss Nelly. "I knowhim. "

"Major Rawson, " I continued. 

"He is my uncle, " some one said. 

"Mon. Rivolta. "

"Here!" exclaimed an Italian, whose face was concealed beneath a heavyblack beard. 

Miss Nelly burst into laughter, and exclaimed: "That gentleman canscarcely be called a blonde. "

"Very well, then, " I said, "we are forced to the conclusion that theguilty party is the last one on the list. "

"What is his name?"

"Mon. Rozaine. Does anyone know him?"

No one answered. But Miss Nelly turned to the taciturn young man, whoseattentions to her had annoyed me, and said:

"Well, Monsieur Rozaine, why do you not answer?"

All eyes were now turned upon him. He was a blonde. I must confessthat I myself felt a shock of surprise, and the profound silence thatfollowed her question indicated that the others present also viewedthe situation with a feeling of sudden alarm. However, the idea was anabsurd one, because the gentleman in question presented an air of themost perfect innocence. 

"Why do I not answer?" he said. "Because, considering my name, myposition as a solitary traveler and the color of my hair, I have alreadyreached the same conclusion, and now think that I should be arrested. "

He presented a strange appearance as he uttered these words. His thinlips were drawn closer than usual and his face was ghastly pale, whilsthis eyes were streaked with blood. Of course, he was joking, yet hisappearance and attitude impressed us strangely. 

"But you have not the wound?" said Miss Nelly, naively. 

"That is true, " he replied, "I lack the wound. "

Then he pulled up his sleeve, removing his cuff, and showed us his arm. But that action did not deceive me. He had shown us his left arm, andI was on the point of calling his attention to the fact, when anotherincident diverted our attention. Lady Jerland, Miss Nelly's friend, camerunning towards us in a state of great excitement, exclaiming:

"My jewels, my pearls! Some one has stolen them all!"

No, they were not all gone, as we soon found out. The thief had takenonly part of them; a very curious thing. Of the diamond sunbursts, jeweled pendants, bracelets and necklaces, the thief had taken, notthe largest but the finest and most valuable stones. The mountings werelying upon the table. I saw them there, despoiled of their jewels, likeflowers from which the beautiful colored petals had been ruthlesslyplucked. And this theft must have been committed at the time LadyJerland was taking her tea; in broad daylight, in a stateroom openingon a much frequented corridor; moreover, the thief had been obliged toforce open the door of the stateroom, search for the jewel-case, whichwas hidden at the bottom of a hat-box, open it, select his booty andremove it from the mountings. 

Of course, all the passengers instantly reached the same conclusion; itwas the work of Arsène Lupin. 

That day, at the dinner table, the seats to the right and left ofRozaine remained vacant; and, during the evening, it was rumored thatthe captain had placed him under arrest, which information produced afeeling of safety and relief. We breathed once more. That evening, weresumed our games and dances. Miss Nelly, especially, displayed a spiritof thoughtless gayety which convinced me that if Rozaine's attentionshad been agreeable to her in the beginning, she had already forgottenthem. Her charm and good-humor completed my conquest. At midnight, undera bright moon, I declared my devotion with an ardor that did not seem todisplease her. 

But, next day, to our general amazement, Rozaine was at liberty. We learned that the evidence against him was not sufficient. He hadproduced documents that were perfectly regular, which showed that hewas the son of a wealthy merchant of Bordeaux. Besides, his arms did notbear the slightest trace of a wound. 

"Documents! Certificates of birth!" exclaimed the enemies of Rozaine, "of course, Arsène Lupin will furnish you as many as you desire. And asto the wound, he never had it, or he has removed it. "

Then it was proven that, at the time of the theft, Rozaine waspromenading on the deck. To which fact, his enemies replied that a manlike Arsène Lupin could commit a crime without being actually present. And then, apart from all other circumstances, there remained one pointwhich even the most skeptical could not answer: Who except Rozaine, wastraveling alone, was a blonde, and bore a name beginning with R? To whomdid the telegram point, if it were not Rozaine?

And when Rozaine, a few minutes before breakfast, came boldly toward ourgroup, Miss Nelly and Lady Jerland arose and walked away. 

An hour later, a manuscript circular was passed from hand to handamongst the sailors, the stewards, and the passengers of all classes. It announced that Mon. Louis Rozaine offered a reward of ten thousandfrancs for the discovery of Arsène Lupin or other person in possessionof the stolen jewels. 

"And if no one assists me, I will unmask the scoundrel myself, " declaredRozaine. 

Rozaine against Arsène Lupin, or rather, according to current opinion, Arsène Lupin himself against Arsène Lupin; the contest promised to beinteresting. 

Nothing developed during the next two days. We saw Rozaine wanderingabout, day and night, searching, questioning, investigating. Thecaptain, also, displayed commendable activity. He caused the vessel tobe searched from stern to stern; ransacked every stateroom under theplausible theory that the jewels might be concealed anywhere, except inthe thief's own room. 

"I suppose they will find out something soon, " remarked Miss Nelly tome. "He may be a wizard, but he cannot make diamonds and pearls becomeinvisible. "

"Certainly not, " I replied, "but he should examine the lining of ourhats and vests and everything we carry with us. "

Then, exhibiting my Kodak, a 9x12 with which I had been photographingher in various poses, I added: "In an apparatus no larger than that, aperson could hide all of Lady Jerland's jewels. He could pretend to takepictures and no one would suspect the game. "

"But I have heard it said that every thief leaves some clue behind him. "

"That may be generally true, " I replied, "but there is one exception:Arsène Lupin. "

"Why?"

"Because he concentrates his thoughts not only on the theft, but on allthe circumstances connected with it that could serve as a clue to hisidentity. "

"A few days ago, you were more confident. "

"Yes, but since I have seen him at work. "

"And what do you think about it now?" she asked. 

"Well, in my opinion, we are wasting our time. "

And, as a matter of fact, the investigation had produced no result. But, in the meantime, the captain's watch had been stolen. He was furious. Hequickened his efforts and watched Rozaine more closely than before. But, on the following day, the watch was found in the second officer's collarbox. 

This incident caused considerable astonishment, and displayed thehumorous side of Arsène Lupin, burglar though he was, but dilettante aswell. He combined business with pleasure. He reminded us of theauthor who almost died in a fit of laughter provoked by his own play. Certainly, he was an artist in his particular line of work, and wheneverI saw Rozaine, gloomy and reserved, and thought of the double role thathe was playing, I accorded him a certain measure of admiration. 

On the following evening, the officer on deck duty heard groansemanating from the darkest corner of the ship. He approached and found aman lying there, his head enveloped in a thick gray scarf and his handstied together with a heavy cord. It was Rozaine. He had been assaulted, thrown down and robbed. A card, pinned to his coat, bore these words:"Arsène Lupin accepts with pleasure the ten thousand francs offered byMon. Rozaine. " As a matter of fact, the stolen pocket-book containedtwenty thousand francs. 

Of course, some accused the unfortunate man of having simulated thisattack on himself. But, apart from the fact that he could not have boundhimself in that manner, it was established that the writing on thecard was entirely different from that of Rozaine, but, on the contrary, resembled the handwriting of Arsène Lupin as it was reproduced in an oldnewspaper found on board. 

Thus it appeared that Rozaine was not Arsène Lupin; but was Rozaine, theson of a Bordeaux merchant. And the presence of Arsène Lupin was oncemore affirmed, and that in a most alarming manner. 

Such was the state of terror amongst the passengers that none wouldremain alone in a stateroom or wander singly in unfrequented parts ofthe vessel. We clung together as a matter of safety. And yet the mostintimate acquaintances were estranged by a mutual feeling of distrust. Arsène Lupin was, now, anybody and everybody. Our excited imaginationsattributed to him miraculous and unlimited power. We supposed himcapable of assuming the most unexpected disguises; of being, by turns, the highly respectable Major Rawson or the noble Marquis de Raverdan, or even--for we no longer stopped with the accusing letter of R--or evensuch or such a person well known to all of us, and having wife, childrenand servants. 

The first wireless dispatches from America brought no news; atleast, the captain did not communicate any to us. The silence was notreassuring. 

Our last day on the steamer seemed interminable. We lived in constantfear of some disaster. This time, it would not be a simple theft or acomparatively harmless assault; it would be a crime, a murder. No oneimagined that Arsène Lupin would confine himself to those two triflingoffenses. Absolute master of the ship, the authorities powerless, hecould do whatever he pleased; our property and lives were at his mercy. 

Yet those were delightful hours for me, since they secured to me theconfidence of Miss Nelly. Deeply moved by those startling events andbeing of a highly nervous nature, she spontaneously sought at my sidea protection and security that I was pleased to give her. Inwardly, Iblessed Arsène Lupin. Had he not been the means of bringing me andMiss Nelly closer to each other? Thanks to him, I could now indulge indelicious dreams of love and happiness--dreams that, I felt, were notunwelcome to Miss Nelly. Her smiling eyes authorized me to make them;the softness of her voice bade me hope. 

As we approached the American shore, the active search for the thief wasapparently abandoned, and we were anxiously awaiting the supreme momentin which the mysterious enigma would be explained. Who was ArsèneLupin? Under what name, under what disguise was the famous Arsène Lupinconcealing himself? And, at last, that supreme moment arrived. If I liveone hundred years, I shall not forget the slightest details of it. 

"How pale you are, Miss Nelly, " I said to my companion, as she leanedupon my arm, almost fainting. 

"And you!" she replied, "ah! you are so changed. "

"Just think! this is a most exciting moment, and I am delighted tospend it with you, Miss Nelly. I hope that your memory will sometimesrevert---"

But she was not listening. She was nervous and excited. The gangway wasplaced in position, but, before we could use it, the uniformed customsofficers came on board. Miss Nelly murmured:

"I shouldn't be surprised to hear that Arsène Lupin escaped from thevessel during the voyage. "

"Perhaps he preferred death to dishonor, and plunged into the Atlanticrather than be arrested. "

"Oh, do not laugh, " she said. 

Suddenly I started, and, in answer to her question, I said:

"Do you see that little old man standing at the bottom of the gangway?"

"With an umbrella and an olive-green coat?"

"It is Ganimard. "

"Ganimard?"

"Yes, the celebrated detective who has sworn to capture Arsène Lupin. Ah! I can understand now why we did not receive any news from this sideof the Atlantic. Ganimard was here! and he always keeps his businesssecret. "

"Then you think he will arrest Arsène Lupin?"

"Who can tell? The unexpected always happens when Arsène Lupin isconcerned in the affair. "

"Oh!" she exclaimed, with that morbid curiosity peculiar to women, "Ishould like to see him arrested. "

"You will have to be patient. No doubt, Arsène Lupin has already seenhis enemy and will not be in a hurry to leave the steamer. "

The passengers were now leaving the steamer. Leaning on his umbrella, with an air of careless indifference, Ganimard appeared to be paying noattention to the crowd that was hurrying down the gangway. The Marquisde Raverdan, Major Rawson, the Italian Rivolta, and many others hadalready left the vessel before Rozaine appeared. Poor Rozaine!

"Perhaps it is he, after all, " said Miss Nelly to me. "What do youthink?"

"I think it would be very interesting to have Ganimard and Rozaine inthe same picture. You take the camera. I am loaded down. "

I gave her the camera, but too late for her to use it. Rozaine wasalready passing the detective. An American officer, standing behindGanimard, leaned forward and whispered in his ear. The French detectiveshrugged his shoulders and Rozaine passed on. Then, my God, who wasArsène Lupin?

"Yes, " said Miss Nelly, aloud, "who can it be?"

Not more than twenty people now remained on board. She scrutinized themone by one, fearful that Arsène Lupin was not amongst them. 

"We cannot wait much longer, " I said to her. 

She started toward the gangway. I followed. But we had not taken tensteps when Ganimard barred our passage. 

"Well, what is it?" I exclaimed. 

"One moment, monsieur. What's your hurry?"

"I am escorting mademoiselle. "

"One moment, " he repeated, in a tone of authority. Then, gazing into myeyes, he said:

"Arsène Lupin, is it not?"

I laughed, and replied: "No, simply Bernard d'Andrézy. "

"Bernard d'Andrézy died in Macedonia three years ago. "

"If Bernard d'Andrézy were dead, I should not be here. But you aremistaken. Here are my papers. "

"They are his; and I can tell you exactly how they came into yourpossession. "

"You are a fool!" I exclaimed. "Arsène Lupin sailed under the name ofR---"

"Yes, another of your tricks; a false scent that deceived them at Havre. You play a good game, my boy, but this time luck is against you. "

I hesitated a moment. Then he hit me a sharp blow on the right arm, which caused me to utter a cry of pain. He had struck the wound, yetunhealed, referred to in the telegram. 

I was obliged to surrender. There was no alternative. I turned to MissNelly, who had heard everything. Our eyes met; then she glanced at theKodak I had placed in her hands, and made a gesture that conveyed to methe impression that she understood everything. Yes, there, between thenarrow folds of black leather, in the hollow centre of the small objectthat I had taken the precaution to place in her hands before Ganimardarrested me, it was there I had deposited Rozaine's twenty thousandfrancs and Lady Jerland's pearls and diamonds. 

Oh! I pledge my oath that, at that solemn moment, when I was in thegrasp of Ganimard and his two assistants, I was perfectly indifferent toeverything, to my arrest, the hostility of the people, everythingexcept this one question: what will Miss Nelly do with the things I hadconfided to her?

In the absence of that material and conclusive proof, I had nothingto fear; but would Miss Nelly decide to furnish that proof? Would shebetray me? Would she act the part of an enemy who cannot forgive, orthat of a woman whose scorn is softened by feelings of indulgence andinvoluntary sympathy?

She passed in front of me. I said nothing, but bowed very low. Mingledwith the other passengers, she advanced to the gangway with my kodakin her hand. It occurred to me that she would not dare to expose mepublicly, but she might do so when she reached a more private place. However, when she had passed only a few feet down the gangway, witha movement of simulated awkwardness, she let the camera fall into thewater between the vessel and the pier. Then she walked down the gangway, and was quickly lost to sight in the crowd. She had passed out of mylife forever. 

For a moment, I stood motionless. Then, to Ganimard's greatastonishment, I muttered:

"What a pity that I am not an honest man!"

Such was the story of his arrest as narrated to me by Arsène Lupinhimself. The various incidents, which I shall record in writing at alater day, have established between us certain ties. .. . Shall I say offriendship? Yes, I venture to believe that Arsène Lupin honors me withhis friendship, and that it is through friendship that he occasionallycalls on me, and brings, into the silence of my library, his youthfulexuberance of spirits, the contagion of his enthusiasm, and the mirth ofa man for whom destiny has naught but favors and smiles. 

His portrait? How can I describe him? I have seen him twenty times andeach time he was a different person; even he himself said to me on oneoccasion: "I no longer know who I am. I cannot recognize myself in themirror. " Certainly, he was a great actor, and possessed a marvelousfaculty for disguising himself. Without the slightest effort, he couldadopt the voice, gestures and mannerisms of another person. 

"Why, " said he, "why should I retain a definite form and feature? Whynot avoid the danger of a personality that is ever the same? My actionswill serve to identify me. "

Then he added, with a touch of pride:

"So much the better if no one can ever say with absolute certainty:There is Arsène Lupin! The essential point is that the public may beable to refer to my work and say, without fear of mistake: Arsène Lupindid that!"

II. Arsène Lupin in Prison

There is no tourist worthy of the name who does not know the banks ofthe Seine, and has not noticed, in passing, the little feudal castle ofthe Malaquis, built upon a rock in the centre of the river. An archedbridge connects it with the shore. All around it, the calm waters of thegreat river play peacefully amongst the reeds, and the wagtails flutterover the moist crests of the stones. 

The history of the Malaquis castle is stormy like its name, harsh likeits outlines. It has passed through a long series of combats, sieges, assaults, rapines and massacres. A recital of the crimes that have beencommitted there would cause the stoutest heart to tremble. There aremany mysterious legends connected with the castle, and they tell us ofa famous subterranean tunnel that formerly led to the abbey of Jumiegesand to the manor of Agnes Sorel, mistress of Charles VII. 

In that ancient habitation of heroes and brigands, the Baron NathanCahorn now lived; or Baron Satan as he was formerly called on theBourse, where he had acquired a fortune with incredible rapidity. Thelords of Malaquis, absolutely ruined, had been obliged to sellthe ancient castle at a great sacrifice. It contained an admirablecollection of furniture, pictures, wood carvings, and faience. The Baronlived there alone, attended by three old servants. No one ever entersthe place. No one had ever beheld the three Rubens that he possessed, his two Watteau, his Jean Goujon pulpit, and the many other treasuresthat he had acquired by a vast expenditure of money at public sales. 

Baron Satan lived in constant fear, not for himself, but for thetreasures that he had accumulated with such an earnest devotion and withso much perspicacity that the shrewdest merchant could not say thatthe Baron had ever erred in his taste or judgment. He loved them--hisbibelots. He loved them intensely, like a miser; jealously, like alover. Every day, at sunset, the iron gates at either end of the bridgeand at the entrance to the court of honor are closed and barred. Atthe least touch on these gates, electric bells will ring throughout thecastle. 

One Thursday in September, a letter-carrier presented himself at thegate at the head of the bridge, and, as usual, it was the Baron himselfwho partially opened the heavy portal. He scrutinized the man asminutely as if he were a stranger, although the honest face andtwinkling eyes of the postman had been familiar to the Baron for manyyears. The man laughed, as he said:

"It is only I, Monsieur le Baron. It is not another man wearing my capand blouse. "

"One can never tell, " muttered the Baron. 

The man handed him a number of newspapers, and then said:

"And now, Monsieur le Baron, here is something new. "

"Something new?"

"Yes, a letter. A registered letter. "

Living as a recluse, without friends or business relations, the baronnever received any letters, and the one now presented to him immediatelyaroused within him a feeling of suspicion and distrust. It was like anevil omen. Who was this mysterious correspondent that dared to disturbthe tranquility of his retreat?

"You must sign for it, Monsieur le Baron. "

He signed; then took the letter, waited until the postman haddisappeared beyond the bend in the road, and, after walking nervously toand fro for a few minutes, he leaned against the parapet of the bridgeand opened the envelope. It contained a sheet of paper, bearing thisheading: Prison de la Santé, Paris. He looked at the signature: ArsèneLupin. Then he read:

 "Monsieur le Baron:

 "There is, in the gallery in your castle, a picture of Philippe de Champaigne, of exquisite finish, which pleases me beyond measure. Your Rubens are also to my taste, as well as your smallest Watteau. In the salon to the right, I have noticed the Louis XIII cadence-table, the tapestries of Beauvais, the Empire gueridon signed `Jacob, ' and the Renaissance chest. In the salon to the left, all the cabinet full of jewels and miniatures. 

 "For the present, I will content myself with those articles that can be conveniently removed. I will therefore ask you to pack them carefully and ship them to me, charges prepaid, to the station at Batignolles, within eight days, otherwise I shall be obliged to remove them myself during the night of 27 September; but, under those circumstances, I shall not content myself with the articles above mentioned. 

 "Accept my apologies for any inconvenience I may cause you, and believe me to be your humble servant, "Arsène Lupin. "

 "P. S. --Please do not send the largest Watteau. Although you paid thirty thousand francs for it, it is only a copy, the original having been burned, under the Directoire by Barras, during a night of debauchery. Consult the memoirs of Garat. 

 "I do not care for the Louis XV chatelaine, as I doubt its authenticity. "

That letter completely upset the baron. Had it borne any othersignature, he would have been greatly alarmed--but signed by ArsèneLupin!

As an habitual reader of the newspapers, he was versed in the historyof recent crimes, and was therefore well acquainted with the exploits ofthe mysterious burglar. Of course, he knew that Lupin had been arrestedin America by his enemy Ganimard and was at present incarcerated in thePrison de la Santé. But he knew also that any miracle might be expectedfrom Arsène Lupin. Moreover, that exact knowledge of the castle, thelocation of the pictures and furniture, gave the affair an alarmingaspect. How could he have acquired that information concerning thingsthat no one had ever seen?

The baron raised his eyes and contemplated the stern outlines of thecastle, its steep rocky pedestal, the depth of the surrounding water, and shrugged his shoulders. Certainly, there was no danger. No one inthe world could force an entrance to the sanctuary that contained hispriceless treasures. 

No one, perhaps, but Arsène Lupin! For him, gates, walls and drawbridgesdid not exist. What use were the most formidable obstacles or the mostcareful precautions, if Arsène Lupin had decided to effect an entrance?

That evening, he wrote to the Procurer of the Republique at Rouen. Heenclosed the threatening letter and solicited aid and protection. 

The reply came at once to the effect that Arsène Lupin was in custody inthe Prison de la Santé, under close surveillance, with no opportunityto write such a letter, which was, no doubt, the work of some imposter. But, as an act of precaution, the Procurer had submitted the letterto an expert in handwriting, who declared that, in spite of certainresemblances, the writing was not that of the prisoner. 

But the words "in spite of certain resemblances" caught the attention ofthe baron; in them, he read the possibility of a doubt which appeared tohim quite sufficient to warrant the intervention of the law. His fearsincreased. He read Lupin's letter over and over again. "I shall beobliged to remove them myself. " And then there was the fixed date: thenight of 27 September. 

To confide in his servants was a proceeding repugnant to his nature; butnow, for the first time in many years, he experienced the necessity ofseeking counsel with some one. Abandoned by the legal official ofhis own district, and feeling unable to defend himself with his ownresources, he was on the point of going to Paris to engage the servicesof a detective. 

Two days passed; on the third day, he was filled with hope and joy ashe read the following item in the `Reveil de Caudebec', a newspaperpublished in a neighboring town:

"We have the pleasure of entertaining in our city, at the present time, the veteran detective Mon. Ganimard who acquired a world-wide reputationby his clever capture of Arsène Lupin. He has come here for rest andrecreation, and, being an enthusiastic fisherman, he threatens tocapture all the fish in our river. "

Ganimard! Ah, here is the assistance desired by Baron Cahorn! Who couldbaffle the schemes of Arsène Lupin better than Ganimard, the patient andastute detective? He was the man for the place. 

The baron did not hesitate. The town of Caudebec was only six kilometersfrom the castle, a short distance to a man whose step was accelerated bythe hope of safety. 

After several fruitless attempts to ascertain the detective's address, the baron visited the office of the `Reveil, ' situated on the quai. There he found the writer of the article who, approaching the window, exclaimed:

"Ganimard? Why, you are sure to see him somewhere on the quai with hisfishing-pole. I met him there and chanced to read his name engraved onhis rod. Ah, there he is now, under the trees. "

"That little man, wearing a straw hat?"

"Exactly. He is a gruff fellow, with little to say. "

Five minutes later, the baron approached the celebrated Ganimard, introduced himself, and sought to commence a conversation, but thatwas a failure. Then he broached the real object of his interview, and briefly stated his case. The other listened, motionless, with hisattention riveted on his fishing-rod. When the baron had finished hisstory, the fisherman turned, with an air of profound pity, and said:

"Monsieur, it is not customary for thieves to warn people they are aboutto rob. Arsène Lupin, especially, would not commit such a folly. "

"But---"

"Monsieur, if I had the least doubt, believe me, the pleasure ofagain capturing Arsène Lupin would place me at your disposal. But, unfortunately, that young man is already under lock and key. "

"He may have escaped. "

"No one ever escaped from the Santé. "

"But, he---"

"He, no more than any other. "

"Yet---"

"Well, if he escapes, so much the better. I will catch him again. Meanwhile, you go home and sleep soundly. That will do for the present. You frighten the fish. "

The conversation was ended. The baron returned to the castle, reassuredto some extent by Ganimard's indifference. He examined the bolts, watched the servants, and, during the next forty-eight hours, he becamealmost persuaded that his fears were groundless. Certainly, as Ganimardhad said, thieves do not warn people they are about to rob. 

The fateful day was close at hand. It was now the twenty-sixth ofSeptember and nothing had happened. But at three o'clock the bell rang. A boy brought this telegram:

"No goods at Batignolles station. Prepare everything for tomorrow night. Arsène. "

This telegram threw the baron into such a state of excitement that heeven considered the advisability of yielding to Lupin's demands. 

However, he hastened to Caudebec. Ganimard was fishing at the sameplace, seated on a campstool. Without a word, he handed him thetelegram. 

"Well, what of it?" said the detective. 

"What of it? But it is tomorrow. "

"What is tomorrow?"

"The robbery! The pillage of my collections!"

Ganimard laid down his fishing-rod, turned to the baron, and exclaimed, in a tone of impatience:

"Ah! Do you think I am going to bother myself about such a silly storyas that!"

"How much do you ask to pass tomorrow night in the castle?"

"Not a sou. Now, leave me alone. "

"Name your own price. I am rich and can pay it. "

This offer disconcerted Ganimard, who replied, calmly:

"I am here on a vacation. I have no right to undertake such work. "

"No one will know. I promise to keep it secret. "

"Oh! nothing will happen. "

"Come! three thousand francs. Will that be enough?"

The detective, after a moment's reflection, said:

"Very well. But I must warn you that you are throwing your money out ofthe window. "

"I do not care. "

"In that case. .. But, after all, what do we know about this devil Lupin!He may have quite a numerous band of robbers with him. Are you sure ofyour servants?"

"My faith---"

"Better not count on them. I will telegraph for two of my men to helpme. And now, go! It is better for us not to be seen together. Tomorrowevening about nine o'clock. "

* * * * *

The following day--the date fixed by Arsène Lupin--Baron Cahorn arrangedall his panoply of war, furbished his weapons, and, like a sentinel, paced to and fro in front of the castle. He saw nothing, heard nothing. At half-past eight o'clock in the evening, he dismissed his servants. They occupied rooms in a wing of the building, in a retired spot, wellremoved from the main portion of the castle. Shortly thereafter, thebaron heard the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Ganimard and histwo assistants--great, powerful fellows with immense hands, and neckslike bulls. After asking a few questions relating to the location of thevarious entrances and rooms, Ganimard carefully closed and barricadedall the doors and windows through which one could gain access to thethreatened rooms. He inspected the walls, raised the tapestries, andfinally installed his assistants in the central gallery which waslocated between the two salons. 

"No nonsense! We are not here to sleep. At the slightest sound, open thewindows of the court and call me. Pay attention also to the water-side. Ten metres of perpendicular rock is no obstacle to those devils. "

Ganimard locked his assistants in the gallery, carried away the keys, and said to the baron:

"And now, to our post. "

He had chosen for himself a small room located in the thick outer wall, between the two principal doors, and which, in former years, had beenthe watchman's quarters. A peep-hole opened upon the bridge; another onthe court. In one corner, there was an opening to a tunnel. 

"I believe you told me, Monsieur le Baron, that this tunnel is the onlysubterranean entrance to the castle and that it has been closed up fortime immemorial?"

"Yes. "

"Then, unless there is some other entrance, known only to Arsène Lupin, we are quite safe. "

He placed three chairs together, stretched himself upon them, lightedhis pipe and sighed:

"Really, Monsieur le Baron, I feel ashamed to accept your money for sucha sinecure as this. I will tell the story to my friend Lupin. He willenjoy it immensely. "

The baron did not laugh. He was anxiously listening, but heard nothingsave the beating of his own heart. From time to time, he leaned over thetunnel and cast a fearful eye into its depths. He heard the clock strikeeleven, twelve, one. 

Suddenly, he seized Ganimard's arm. The latter leaped up, awakened fromhis sleep. 

"Do you hear?" asked the baron, in a whisper. 

"Yes. "

"What is it?"

"I was snoring, I suppose. "

"No, no, listen. "

"Ah! yes, it is the horn of an automobile. "

"Well?"

"Well! it is very improbable that Lupin would use an automobile like abattering-ram to demolish your castle. Come, Monsieur le Baron, returnto your post. I am going to sleep. Good-night. "

That was the only alarm. Ganimard resumed his interrupted slumbers, andthe baron heard nothing except the regular snoring of his companion. Atbreak of day, they left the room. The castle was enveloped in a profoundcalm; it was a peaceful dawn on the bosom of a tranquil river. Theymounted the stairs, Cahorn radiant with joy, Ganimard calm as usual. They heard no sound; they saw nothing to arouse suspicion. 

"What did I tell you, Monsieur le Baron? Really, I should not haveaccepted your offer. I am ashamed. "

He unlocked the door and entered the gallery. Upon two chairs, withdrooping heads and pendent arms, the detective's two assistants wereasleep. 

"Tonnerre de nom d'un chien!" exclaimed Ganimard. At the same moment, the baron cried out:

"The pictures! The credence!"

He stammered, choked, with arms outstretched toward the empty places, toward the denuded walls where naught remained but the useless nailsand cords. The Watteau, disappeared! The Rubens, carried away! Thetapestries taken down! The cabinets, despoiled of their jewels!

"And my Louis XVI candelabra! And the Regent chandelier!. .. And mytwelfth-century Virgin!"

He ran from one spot to another in wildest despair. He recalled thepurchase price of each article, added up the figures, counted hislosses, pell-mell, in confused words and unfinished phrases. He stampedwith rage; he groaned with grief. He acted like a ruined man whose onlyhope is suicide. 

If anything could have consoled him, it would have been the stupefactiondisplayed by Ganimard. The famous detective did not move. He appearedto be petrified; he examined the room in a listless manner. Thewindows?. .. . Closed. The locks on the doors?. .. . Intact. Not a break inthe ceiling; not a hole in the floor. Everything was in perfect order. The theft had been carried out methodically, according to a logical andinexorable plan. 

"Arsène Lupin. .. . Arsène Lupin, " he muttered. 

Suddenly, as if moved by anger, he rushed upon his two assistants andshook them violently. They did not awaken. 

"The devil!" he cried. "Can it be possible?"

He leaned over them and, in turn, examined them closely. They wereasleep; but their response was unnatural. 

"They have been drugged, " he said to the baron. 

"By whom?"

"By him, of course, or his men under his discretion. That work bears hisstamp. "

"In that case, I am lost--nothing can be done. "

"Nothing, " assented Ganimard. 

"It is dreadful; it is monstrous. "

"Lodge a complaint. "

"What good will that do?"

"Oh; it is well to try it. The law has some resources. "

"The law! Bah! it is useless. You represent the law, and, at thismoment, when you should be looking for a clue and trying to discoversomething, you do not even stir. "

"Discover something with Arsène Lupin! Why, my dear monsieur, ArsèneLupin never leaves any clue behind him. He leaves nothing to chance. Sometimes I think he put himself in my way and simply allowed me toarrest him in America. "

"Then, I must renounce my pictures! He has taken the gems of mycollection. I would give a fortune to recover them. If there is no otherway, let him name his own price. "

Ganimard regarded the baron attentively, as he said:

"Now, that is sensible. Will you stick to it?"

"Yes, yes. But why?"

"An idea that I have. "

"What is it?"

"We will discuss it later--if the official examination does not succeed. But, not one word about me, if you wish my assistance. "

He added, between his teeth:

"It is true I have nothing to boast of in this affair. "

The assistants were gradually regaining consciousness with thebewildered air of people who come out of an hypnotic sleep. They openedtheir eyes and looked about them in astonishment. Ganimard questionedthem; they remembered nothing. 

"But you must have seen some one?"

"No. "

"Can't you remember?"

"No, no. "

"Did you drink anything?"

They considered a moment, and then one of them replied:

"Yes, I drank a little water. "

"Out of that carafe?"

"Yes. "

"So did I, " declared the other. 

Ganimard smelled and tasted it. It had no particular taste and no odor. 

"Come, " he said, "we are wasting our time here. One can't decide anArsène Lupin problem in five minutes. But, morbleau! I swear I willcatch him again. "

The same day, a charge of burglary was duly performed by Baron Cahornagainst Arsène Lupin, a prisoner in the Prison de la Santé. 

* * * * *

The baron afterwards regretted making the charge against Lupin when hesaw his castle delivered over to the gendarmes, the procureur, the judged'instruction, the newspaper reporters and photographers, and a throngof idle curiosity-seekers. 

The affair soon became a topic of general discussion, and the name ofArsène Lupin excited the public imagination to such an extent that thenewspapers filled their columns with the most fantastic stories of hisexploits which found ready credence amongst their readers. 

But the letter of Arsène Lupin that was published in the `Echo deFrance' (no once ever knew how the newspaper obtained it), that letterin which Baron Cahorn was impudently warned of the coming theft, causedconsiderable excitement. The most fabulous theories were advanced. Somerecalled the existence of the famous subterranean tunnels, and that wasthe line of research pursued by the officers of the law, who searchedthe house from top to bottom, questioned every stone, studied thewainscoting and the chimneys, the window-frames and the girders in theceilings. By the light of torches, they examined the immense cellarswhere the lords of Malaquis were wont to store their munitions andprovisions. They sounded the rocky foundation to its very centre. But itwas all in vain. They discovered no trace of a subterranean tunnel. Nosecret passage existed. 

But the eager public declared that the pictures and furniture could notvanish like so many ghosts. They are substantial, material things andrequire doors and windows for their exits and their entrances, and sodo the people that remove them. Who were those people? How did they gainaccess to the castle? And how did they leave it?

The police officers of Rouen, convinced of their own impotence, solicited the assistance of the Parisian detective force. Mon. Dudouis, chief of the Sûreté, sent the best sleuths of the iron brigade. Hehimself spent forty-eight hours at the castle, but met with no success. Then he sent for Ganimard, whose past services had proved so useful whenall else failed. 

Ganimard listened, in silence, to the instructions of his superior;then, shaking his head, he said:

"In my opinion, it is useless to ransack the castle. The solution of theproblem lies elsewhere. "

"Where, then?"

"With Arsène Lupin. "

"With Arsène Lupin! To support that theory, we must admit hisintervention. "

"I do admit it. In fact, I consider it quite certain. "

"Come, Ganimard, that is absurd. Arsène Lupin is in prison. "

"I grant you that Arsène Lupin is in prison, closely guarded; but hemust have fetters on his feet, manacles on his wrists, and gag in hismouth before I change my opinion. "

"Why so obstinate, Ganimard?"

"Because Arsène Lupin is the only man in France of sufficient calibre toinvent and carry out a scheme of that magnitude. "

"Mere words, Ganimard. "

"But true ones. Look! What are they doing? Searching for subterraneanpassages, stones swinging on pivots, and other nonsense of that kind. But Lupin doesn't employ such old-fashioned methods. He is a moderncracksman, right up to date. "

"And how would you proceed?"

"I should ask your permission to spend an hour with him. "

"In his cell?"

"Yes. During the return trip from America we became very friendly, andI venture to say that if he can give me any information withoutcompromising himself he will not hesitate to save me from incurringuseless trouble. "

It was shortly after noon when Ganimard entered the cell of ArsèneLupin. The latter, who was lying on his bed, raised his head and uttereda cry of apparent joy. 

"Ah! This is a real surprise. My dear Ganimard, here!"

"Ganimard himself. "

"In my chosen retreat, I have felt a desire for many things, but myfondest wish was to receive you here. "

"Very kind of you, I am sure. "

"Not at all. You know I hold you in the highest regard. "

"I am proud of it. "

"I have always said: Ganimard is our best detective. He is almost, --yousee how candid I am!--he is almost as clever as Sherlock Holmes. But Iam sorry that I cannot offer you anything better than this hard stool. And no refreshments! Not even a glass of beer! Of course, you willexcuse me, as I am here only temporarily. "

Ganimard smiled, and accepted the proffered seat. Then the prisonercontinued:

"Mon Dieu, how pleased I am to see the face of an honest man. I am sotired of those devils of spies who come here ten times a day to ransackmy pockets and my cell to satisfy themselves that I am not preparing toescape. The government is very solicitous on my account. "

"It is quite right. "

"Why so? I should be quite contented if they would allow me to live inmy own quiet way. "

"On other people's money. "

"Quite so. That would be so simple. But here, I am joking, and you are, no doubt, in a hurry. So let us come to business, Ganimard. To what do Iowe the honor of this visit?

"The Cahorn affair, " declared Ganimard, frankly. 

"Ah! Wait, one moment. You see I have had so many affairs! First, let mefix in my mind the circumstances of this particular case. .. . Ah! yes, nowI have it. The Cahorn affair, Malaquis castle, Seine-Inférieure. .. . TwoRubens, a Watteau, and a few trifling articles. "

"Trifling!"

"Oh! ma foi, all that is of slight importance. But it suffices to knowthat the affair interests you. How can I serve you, Ganimard?"

"Must I explain to you what steps the authorities have taken in thematter?"

"Not at all. I have read the newspapers and I will frankly state thatyou have made very little progress. "

"And that is the reason I have come to see you. "

"I am entirely at your service. "

"In the first place, the Cahorn affair was managed by you?"

"From A to Z. "

"The letter of warning? the telegram?"

"All mine. I ought to have the receipts somewhere. "

Arsène opened the drawer of a small table of plain white wood which, with the bed and stool, constituted all the furniture in his cell, andtook therefrom two scraps of paper which he handed to Ganimard. 

"Ah!" exclaimed the detective, in surprise, "I though you were closelyguarded and searched, and I find that you read the newspapers andcollect postal receipts. "

"Bah! these people are so stupid! They open the lining of my vest, theyexamine the soles of my shoes, they sound the walls of my cell, but theynever imagine that Arsène Lupin would be foolish enough to choose such asimple hiding place. "

Ganimard laughed, as he said:

"What a droll fellow you are! Really, you bewilder me. But, come now, tell me about the Cahorn affair. "

"Oh! oh! not quite so fast! You would rob me of all my secrets; exposeall my little tricks. That is a very serious matter. "

"Was I wrong to count on your complaisance?"

"No, Ganimard, and since you insist---"

Arsène Lupin paced his cell two or three times, then, stopping beforeGanimard, he asked:

"What do you think of my letter to the baron?"

"I think you were amusing yourself by playing to the gallery. "

"Ah! playing to the gallery! Come, Ganimard, I thought you knew mebetter. Do I, Arsène Lupin, ever waste my time on such puerilities?Would I have written that letter if I could have robbed the baronwithout writing to him? I want you to understand that the letter wasindispensable; it was the motor that set the whole machine in motion. Now, let us discuss together a scheme for the robbery of the Malaquiscastle. Are you willing?"

"Yes, proceed. "

"Well, let us suppose a castle carefully closed and barricaded likethat of the Baron Cahorn. Am I to abandon my scheme and renounce thetreasures that I covet, upon the pretext that the castle which holdsthem is inaccessible?"

"Evidently not. "

"Should I make an assault upon the castle at the head of a band ofadventurers as they did in ancient times?"

"That would be foolish. "

"Can I gain admittance by stealth or cunning?"

"Impossible. "

"Then there is only one way open to me. I must have the owner of thecastle invite me to it. "

"That is surely an original method. "

"And how easy! Let us suppose that one day the owner receives a letterwarning him that a notorious burglar known as Arsène Lupin is plottingto rob him. What will he do?"

"Send a letter to the Procureur. "

"Who will laugh at him, *because the said Arsène Lupin is actually inprison. * Then, in his anxiety and fear, the simple man will ask theassistance of the first-comer, will he not?"

"Very likely. "

"And if he happens to read in a country newspaper that a celebrateddetective is spending his vacation in a neighboring town---"

"He will seek that detective. "

"Of course. But, on the other hand, let us presume that, having foreseenthat state of affairs, the said Arsène Lupin has requested one of hisfriends to visit Caudebec, make the acquaintance of the editor of the`Réveil, ' a newspaper to which the baron is a subscriber, and let saideditor understand that such person is the celebrated detective--then, what will happen?"

"The editor will announce in the `Réveil' the presence in Caudebec ofsaid detective. "

"Exactly; and one of two things will happen: either the fish--I meanCahorn--will not bite, and nothing will happen; or, what is more likely, he will run and greedily swallow the bait. Thus, behold my Baron Cahornimploring the assistance of one of my friends against me. "

"Original, indeed!"

"Of course, the pseudo-detective at first refuses to give anyassistance. On top of that comes the telegram from Arsène Lupin. Thefrightened baron rushes once more to my friend and offers him a definitesum of money for his services. My friend accepts and summons two membersof our band, who, during the night, whilst Cahorn is under the watchfuleye of his protector, removes certain articles by way of the windowand lowers them with ropes into a nice little launch chartered for theoccasion. Simple, isn't it?"

"Marvelous! Marvelous!" exclaimed Ganimard. "The boldness of the schemeand the ingenuity of all its details are beyond criticism. But who isthe detective whose name and fame served as a magnet to attract thebaron and draw him into your net?"

"There is only one name could do it--only one. "

"And that is?"

"Arsène Lupin's personal enemy--the most illustrious Ganimard. "

"I?"

"Yourself, Ganimard. And, really, it is very funny. If you go there, andthe baron decides to talk, you will find that it will be your duty toarrest yourself, just as you arrested me in America. Hein! the revengeis really amusing: I cause Ganimard to arrest Ganimard. "

Arsène Lupin laughed heartily. The detective, greatly vexed, bit hislips; to him the joke was quite devoid of humor. The arrival of a prisonguard gave Ganimard an opportunity to recover himself. The man broughtArsène Lupin's luncheon, furnished by a neighboring restaurant. Afterdepositing the tray upon the table, the guard retired. Lupin broke hisbread, ate a few morsels, and continued:

"But, rest easy, my dear Ganimard, you will not go to Malaquis. I cantell you something that will astonish you: the Cahorn affair is on thepoint of being settled. "

"Excuse me; I have just seen the Chief of the Sureté. "

"What of that? Does Mon. Dudouis know my business better than Ido myself? You will learn that Ganimard--excuse me--that thepseudo-Ganimard still remains on very good terms with the baron. Thelatter has authorized him to negotiate a very delicate transaction withme, and, at the present moment, in consideration of a certain sum, itis probable that the baron has recovered possession of his pictures andother treasures. And on their return, he will withdraw his complaint. Thus, there is no longer any theft, and the law must abandon the case. "

Ganimard regarded the prisoner with a bewildered air. 

"And how do you know all that?"

"I have just received the telegram I was expecting. "

"You have just received a telegram?"

"This very moment, my dear friend. Out of politeness, I did not wish toread it in your presence. But if you will permit me---"

"You are joking, Lupin. "

"My dear friend, if you will be so kind as to break that egg, you willlearn for yourself that I am not joking. "

Mechanically, Ganimard obeyed, and cracked the egg-shell with the bladeof a knife. He uttered a cry of surprise. The shell contained nothingbut a small piece of blue paper. At the request of Arsène he unfoldedit. It was a telegram, or rather a portion of a telegram from which thepost-marks had been removed. It read as follows:

"Contract closed. Hundred thousand balls delivered. All well. "

"One hundred thousand balls?" said Ganimard. 

"Yes, one hundred thousand francs. Very little, but then, you know, these are hard times. .. . And I have some heavy bills to meet. If you onlyknew my budget. .. . Living in the city comes very high. "

Ganimard arose. His ill humor had disappeared. He reflected for amoment, glancing over the whole affair in an effort to discover a weakpoint; then, in a tone and manner that betrayed his admiration of theprisoner, he said:

"Fortunately, we do not have a dozen such as you to deal with; if wedid, we would have to close up shop. "

Arsène Lupin assumed a modest air, as he replied:

"Bah! a person must have some diversion to occupy his leisure hours, especially when he is in prison. "

"What!" exclaimed Ganimard, "your trial, your defense, theexamination--isn't that sufficient to occupy your mind?"

"No, because I have decided not to be present at my trial. "

"Oh! oh!"

Arsène Lupin repeated, positively:

"I shall not be present at my trial. "

"Really!"

"Ah! my dear monsieur, do you suppose I am going to rot upon the wetstraw? You insult me. Arsène Lupin remains in prison just as long as itpleases him, and not one minute more. "

"Perhaps it would have been more prudent if you had avoided gettingthere, " said the detective, ironically. 

"Ah! monsieur jests? Monsieur must remember that he had the honor toeffect my arrest. Know then, my worthy friend, that no one, not evenyou, could have placed a hand upon me if a much more important event hadnot occupied my attention at that critical moment. "

"You astonish me. "

"A woman was looking at me, Ganimard, and I loved her. Do you fullyunderstand what that means: to be under the eyes of a woman that oneloves? I cared for nothing in the world but that. And that is why I amhere. "

"Permit me to say: you have been here a long time. "

"In the first place, I wished to forget. Do not laugh; it was adelightful adventure and it is still a tender memory. Besides, I havebeen suffering from neurasthenia. Life is so feverish these days that itis necessary to take the `rest cure' occasionally, and I find this spota sovereign remedy for my tired nerves. "

"Arsène Lupin, you are not a bad fellow, after all. "

"Thank you, " said Lupin. "Ganimard, this is Friday. On Wednesday next, at four o'clock in the afternoon, I will smoke my cigar at your house inthe rue Pergolese. "

"Arsène Lupin, I will expect you. "

They shook hands like two old friends who valued each other at theirtrue worth; then the detective stepped to the door. 

"Ganimard!"

"What is it?" asked Ganimard, as he turned back. 

"You have forgotten your watch. "

"My watch?"

"Yes, it strayed into my pocket. "

He returned the watch, excusing himself. 

"Pardon me. .. . A bad habit. Because they have taken mine is no reason whyI should take yours. Besides, I have a chronometer here that satisfiesme fairly well. "

He took from the drawer a large gold watch and heavy chain. 

"From whose pocket did that come?" asked Ganimard. 

Arsène Lupin gave a hasty glance at the initials engraved on the watch. 

"J. B. .. .. Who the devil can that be?. .. . Ah! yes, I remember. JulesBouvier, the judge who conducted my examination. A charming fellow!. .. . "

III. The Escape of Arsène Lupin

Arsène Lupin had just finished his repast and taken from his pocket anexcellent cigar, with a gold band, which he was examining with unusualcare, when the door of his cell was opened. He had barely time tothrow the cigar into the drawer and move away from the table. The guardentered. It was the hour for exercise. 

"I was waiting for you, my dear boy, " exclaimed Lupin, in his accustomedgood humor. 

They went out together. As soon as they had disappeared at a turn in thecorridor, two men entered the cell and commenced a minute examinationof it. One was Inspector Dieuzy; the other was Inspector Folenfant. Theywished to verify their suspicion that Arsène Lupin was in communicationwith his accomplices outside of the prison. On the preceding evening, the `Grand Journal' had published these lines addressed to its courtreporter:

"Monsieur:

"In a recent article you referred to me in most unjustifiableterms. Some days before the opening of my trial I will call you toaccount. Arsène Lupin. "

The handwriting was certainly that of Arsène Lupin. Consequently, hesent letters; and, no doubt, received letters. It was certain that hewas preparing for that escape thus arrogantly announced by him. 

The situation had become intolerable. Acting in conjunction with theexamining judge, the chief of the Sûreté, Mon. Dudouis, had visited theprison and instructed the gaoler in regard to the precautions necessaryto insure Lupin's safety. At the same time, he sent the two men toexamine the prisoner's cell. They raised every stone, ransacked the bed, did everything customary in such a case, but they discovered nothing, and were about to abandon their investigation when the guard enteredhastily and said:

"The drawer. .. . Look in the table-drawer. When I entered just now he wasclosing it. "

They opened the drawer, and Dieuzy exclaimed:

"Ah! we have him this time. "

Folenfant stopped him. 

"Wait a moment. The chief will want to make an inventory. "

"This is a very choice cigar. "

"Leave it there, and notify the chief. "

Two minutes later Mon. Dudouis examined the contents of the drawer. First he discovered a bundle of newspaper clippings relating to ArsèneLupin taken from the `Argus de la Presse, ' then a tobacco-box, a pipe, some paper called "onion-peel, " and two books. He read the titles of thebooks. One was an English edition of Carlyle's "Hero-worship"; the otherwas a charming elzevir, in modern binding, the "Manual of Epictetus, " aGerman translation published at Leyden in 1634. On examining the books, he found that all the pages were underlined and annotated. Were theyprepared as a code for correspondence, or did they simply express thestudious character of the reader? Then he examined the tobacco-box andthe pipe. Finally, he took up the famous cigar with its gold band. 

"Fichtre!" he exclaimed. "Our friend smokes a good cigar. It's a HenryClay. "

With the mechanical action of an habitual smoker, he placed the cigarclose to his ear and squeezed it to make it crack. Immediately heuttered a cry of surprise. The cigar had yielded under the pressureof his fingers. He examined it more closely, and quickly discoveredsomething white between the leaves of tobacco. Delicately, with the aidof a pin, he withdrew a roll of very thin paper, scarcely larger thana toothpick. It was a letter. He unrolled it, and found these words, written in a feminine handwriting:

"The basket has taken the place of the others. Eight out of ten areready. On pressing the outer foot the plate goes downward. From twelveto sixteen every day, H-P will wait. But where? Reply at once. Resteasy; your friend is watching over you. "

Mon. Dudouis reflected a moment, then said:

"It is quite clear. .. . The basket. .. . The eight compartments. .. . Fromtwelve to sixteen means from twelve to four o'clock. "

"But this H-P, that will wait?"

"H-P must mean automobile. H-P, horsepower, is the way they indicatestrength of the motor. A twenty-four H-P is an automobile of twenty-fourhorsepower. "

Then he rose, and asked:

"Had the prisoner finished his breakfast?"

"Yes. "

"And as he has not yet read the message, which is proved by thecondition of the cigar, it is probable that he had just received it. "

"How?"

"In his food. Concealed in his bread or in a potato, perhaps. "

"Impossible. His food was allowed to be brought in simply to trap him, but we have never found anything in it. "

"We will look for Lupin's reply this evening. Detain him outside for afew minutes. I shall take this to the examining judge, and, if he agreeswith me, we will have the letter photographed at once, and in an houryou can replace the letter in the drawer in a cigar similar to this. Theprisoner must have no cause for suspicion. "

It was not without a certain curiosity that Mon. Dudouis returned tothe prison in the evening, accompanied by Inspector Dieuzy. Three emptyplates were sitting on the stove in the corner. 

"He has eaten?"

"Yes, " replied the guard. 

"Dieuzy, please cut that macaroni into very small pieces, and open thatbread-roll. .. . Nothing?"

"No, chief. "

Mon. Dudouis examined the plates, the fork, the spoon, and the knife--anordinary knife with a rounded blade. He turned the handle to the left;then to the right. It yielded and unscrewed. The knife was hollow, andserved as a hiding-place for a sheet of paper. 

"Peuh!" he said, "that is not very clever for a man like Arsène. But wemustn't lose any time. You, Dieuzy, go and search the restaurant. "

Then he read the note:

"I trust to you, H-P will follow at a distance every day. I will goahead. Au revoir, dear friend. "

"At last, " cried Mon. Dudouis, rubbing his hands gleefully, "I think wehave the affair in our own hands. A little strategy on our part, and theescape will be a success in so far as the arrest of his confederates areconcerned. "

"But if Arsène Lupin slips through your fingers?" suggested the guard. 

"We will have a sufficient number of men to prevent that. If, however, he displays too much cleverness, ma foi, so much the worse for him! Asto his band of robbers, since the chief refuses to speak, the othersmust. "

* * * * *

And, as a matter of fact, Arsène Lupin had very little to say. Forseveral months, Mon. Jules Bouvier, the examining judge, hadexerted himself in vain. The investigation had been reduced to a fewuninteresting arguments between the judge and the advocate, MaîtreDanval, one of the leaders of the bar. From time to time, throughcourtesy, Arsène Lupin would speak. One day he said:

"Yes, monsieur, le judge, I quite agree with you: the robbery of theCrédit Lyonnais, the theft in the rue de Babylone, the issue ofthe counterfeit bank-notes, the burglaries at the various châteaux, Armesnil, Gouret, Imblevain, Groseillers, Malaquis, all my work, monsieur, I did it all. "

"Then will you explain to me---"

"It is useless. I confess everything in a lump, everything and even tentimes more than you know nothing about. "

Wearied by his fruitless task, the judge had suspended his examinations, but he resumed them after the two intercepted messages were brought tohis attention; and regularly, at mid-day, Arsène Lupin was taken fromthe prison to the Dépôt in the prison-van with a certain number of otherprisoners. They returned about three or four o'clock. 

Now, one afternoon, this return trip was made under unusual conditions. The other prisoners not having been examined, it was decided to takeback Arsène Lupin first, thus he found himself alone in the vehicle. 

These prison-vans, vulgarly called "panniers à salade"--orsalad-baskets--are divided lengthwise by a central corridor from whichopen ten compartments, five on either side. Each compartment is soarranged that the occupant must assume and retain a sitting posture, and, consequently, the five prisoners are seated one upon the other, and yet separated one from the other by partitions. A municipal guard, standing at one end, watches over the corridor. 

Arsène was placed in the third cell on the right, and the heavy vehiclestarted. He carefully calculated when they left the quai de l'Horloge, and when they passed the Palais de Justice. Then, about the centre ofthe bridge Saint Michel, with his outer foot, that is to say, his rightfoot, he pressed upon the metal plate that closed his cell. Immediatelysomething clicked, and the metal plate moved. He was able to ascertainthat he was located between the two wheels. 

He waited, keeping a sharp look-out. The vehicle was proceeding slowlyalong the boulevard Saint Michel. At the corner of Saint Germain itstopped. A truck horse had fallen. The traffic having been interrupted, a vast throng of fiacres and omnibuses had gathered there. Arsène Lupinlooked out. Another prison-van had stopped close to the one he occupied. He moved the plate still farther, put his foot on one of the spokesof the wheel and leaped to the ground. A coachman saw him, roared withlaughter, then tried to raise an outcry, but his voice was lost in thenoise of the traffic that had commenced to move again. Moreover, ArsèneLupin was already far away. 

He had run for a few steps; but, once upon the sidewalk, he turnedand looked around; he seemed to scent the wind like a person who isuncertain which direction to take. Then, having decided, he put hishands in his pockets, and, with the careless air of an idle stroller, he proceeded up the boulevard. It was a warm, bright autumn day, andthe cafés were full. He took a seat on the terrace of one of them. Heordered a bock and a package of cigarettes. He emptied his glass slowly, smoked one cigarette and lighted a second. Then he asked the waiter tosend the proprietor to him. When the proprietor came, Arsène spoke tohim in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone:

"I regret to say, monsieur, I have forgotten my pocketbook. Perhaps, onthe strength of my name, you will be pleased to give me credit for a fewdays. I am Arsène Lupin. "

The proprietor looked at him, thinking he was joking. But Arsènerepeated:

"Lupin, prisoner at the Santé, but now a fugitive. I venture to assumethat the name inspires you with perfect confidence in me. "

And he walked away, amidst shouts of laughter, whilst the proprietorstood amazed. 

Lupin strolled along the rue Soufflot, and turned into the rue SaintJacques. He pursued his way slowly, smoking his cigarettes and lookinginto the shop-windows. At the Boulevard de Port Royal he took hisbearings, discovered where he was, and then walked in the direction ofthe rue de la Santé. The high forbidding walls of the prison werenow before him. He pulled his hat forward to shade his face; then, approaching the sentinel, he asked:

"It this the prison de la Santé?"

"Yes. "

"I wish to regain my cell. The van left me on the way, and I would notabuse--"

"Now, young man, move along--quick!" growled the sentinel. 

"Pardon me, but I must pass through that gate. And if you prevent ArsèneLupin from entering the prison it will cost you dear, my friend. "

"Arsène Lupin! What are you talking about!"

"I am sorry I haven't a card with me, " said Arsène, fumbling in hispockets. 

The sentinel eyed him from head to foot, in astonishment. Then, withouta word, he rang a bell. The iron gate was partly opened, and Arsènestepped inside. Almost immediately he encountered the keeper of theprison, gesticulating and feigning a violent anger. Arsène smiled andsaid:

"Come, monsieur, don't play that game with me. What! they takethe precaution to carry me alone in the van, prepare a nice littleobstruction, and imagine I am going to take to my heels and rejoinmy friends. Well, and what about the twenty agents of the Sûreté whoaccompanied us on foot, in fiacres and on bicycles? No, the arrangementdid not please me. I should not have got away alive. Tell me, monsieur, did they count on that?"

He shrugged his shoulders, and added:

"I beg of you, monsieur, not to worry about me. When I wish to escape Ishall not require any assistance. "

On the second day thereafter, the `Echo de France, ' which had apparentlybecome the official reporter of the exploits of Arsène Lupin, --it wassaid that he was one of its principal shareholders--published a mostcomplete account of this attempted escape. The exact wording of themessages exchanged between the prisoner and his mysterious friend, themeans by which correspondence was constructed, the complicity of thepolice, the promenade on the Boulevard Saint Michel, the incident at thecafé Soufflot, everything was disclosed. It was known that the search ofthe restaurant and its waiters by Inspector Dieuzy had been fruitless. And the public also learned an extraordinary thing which demonstratedthe infinite variety of resources that Lupin possessed: the prison-van, in which he was being carried, was prepared for the occasion andsubstituted by his accomplices for one of the six vans which did serviceat the prison. 

The next escape of Arsène Lupin was not doubted by anyone. He announcedit himself, in categorical terms, in a reply to Mon. Bouvier on the dayfollowing his attempted escape. The judge having made a jest aboutthe affair, Arsène was annoyed, and, firmly eyeing the judge, he said, emphatically:

"Listen to me, monsieur! I give you my word of honor that this attemptedflight was simply preliminary to my general plan of escape. "

"I do not understand, " said the judge. 

"It is not necessary that you should understand. "

And when the judge, in the course of that examination which was reportedat length in the columns of the `Echo de France, ' when the judge soughtto resume his investigation, Arsène Lupin exclaimed, with an assumed airof lassitude:

"Mon Dieu, Mon Dieu, what's the use! All these questions are of noimportance!"

"What! No importance?" cried the judge. 

"No; because I shall not be present at the trial. "

"You will not be present?"

"No; I have fully decided on that, and nothing will change my mind. "

Such assurance combined with the inexplicable indiscretions that Arsènecommitted every day served to annoy and mystify the officers of the law. There were secrets known only to Arsène Lupin; secrets that he alonecould divulge. But for what purpose did he reveal them? And how?

Arsène Lupin was changed to another cell. The judge closed hispreliminary investigation. No further proceedings were taken in his casefor a period of two months, during which time Arsène was seen almostconstantly lying on his bed with his face turned toward the wall. Thechanging of his cell seemed to discourage him. He refused to see hisadvocate. He exchanged only a few necessary words with his keepers. 

During the fortnight preceding his trial, he resumed his vigorous life. He complained of want of air. Consequently, early every morning he wasallowed to exercise in the courtyard, guarded by two men. 

Public curiosity had not died out; every day it expected to be regaledwith news of his escape; and, it is true, he had gained a considerableamount of public sympathy by reason of his verve, his gayety, hisdiversity, his inventive genius and the mystery of his life. ArsèneLupin must escape. It was his inevitable fate. The public expected it, and was surprised that the event had been delayed so long. Every morningthe Préfect of Police asked his secretary:

"Well, has he escaped yet?"

"No, Monsieur le Préfect. "

"To-morrow, probably. "

And, on the day before the trial, a gentleman called at the office ofthe `Grand Journal, ' asked to see the court reporter, threw his card inthe reporter's face, and walked rapidly away. These words were writtenon the card: "Arsène Lupin always keeps his promises. "

* * * * *

It was under these conditions that the trial commenced. An enormouscrowd gathered at the court. Everybody wished to see the famous ArsèneLupin. They had a gleeful anticipation that the prisoner would play someaudacious pranks upon the judge. Advocates and magistrates, reportersand men of the world, actresses and society women were crowded togetheron the benches provided for the public. 

It was a dark, sombre day, with a steady downpour of rain. Only adim light pervaded the courtroom, and the spectators caught a veryindistinct view of the prisoner when the guards brought him in. But hisheavy, shambling walk, the manner in which he dropped into his seat, andhis passive, stupid appearance were not at all prepossessing. Severaltimes his advocate--one of Mon. Danval's assistants--spoke to him, buthe simply shook his head and said nothing. 

The clerk read the indictment, then the judge spoke:

"Prisoner at the bar, stand up. Your name, age, and occupation?"

Not receiving any reply, the judge repeated:

"Your name? I ask you your name?"

A thick, slow voice muttered:

"Baudru, Désiré. "

A murmur of surprise pervaded the courtroom. But the judge proceeded:

"Baudru, Désiré? Ah! a new alias! Well, as you have already assumed adozen different names and this one is, no doubt, as imaginary as theothers, we will adhere to the name of Arsène Lupin, by which you aremore generally known. "

The judge referred to his notes, and continued:

"For, despite the most diligent search, your past history remainsunknown. Your case is unique in the annals of crime. We know not whomyou are, whence you came, your birth and breeding--all is a mysteryto us. Three years ago you appeared in our midst as Arsène Lupin, presenting to us a strange combination of intelligence and perversion, immorality and generosity. Our knowledge of your life prior to that dateis vague and problematical. It may be that the man called Rostat who, eight years ago, worked with Dickson, the prestidigitator, was noneother than Arsène Lupin. It is probable that the Russian student who, six years ago, attended the laboratory of Doctor Altier at the SaintLouis Hospital, and who often astonished the doctor by the ingenuityof his hypotheses on subjects of bacteriology and the boldness of hisexperiments in diseases of the skin, was none other than Arsène Lupin. It is probable, also, that Arsène Lupin was the professor who introducedthe Japanese art of jiu-jitsu to the Parisian public. We have somereason to believe that Arsène Lupin was the bicyclist who won the GrandPrix de l'Exposition, received his ten thousand francs, and was neverheard of again. Arsène Lupin may have been, also, the person who savedso many lives through the little dormer-window at the Charity Bazaar;and, at the same time, picked their pockets. "

The judge paused for a moment, then continued:

"Such is that epoch which seems to have been utilized by you in athorough preparation for the warfare you have since waged againstsociety; a methodical apprenticeship in which you developed yourstrength, energy and skill to the highest point possible. Do youacknowledge the accuracy of these facts?"

During this discourse the prisoner had stood balancing himself, firston one foot, then on the other, with shoulders stooped and arms inert. Under the strongest light one could observe his extreme thinness, hishollow cheeks, his projecting cheek-bones, his earthen-colored facedotted with small red spots and framed in a rough, straggling beard. Prison life had caused him to age and wither. He had lost theyouthful face and elegant figure we had seen portrayed so often in thenewspapers. 

It appeared as if he had not heard the question propounded by thejudge. Twice it was repeated to him. Then he raised his eyes, seemed toreflect, then, making a desperate effort, he murmured:

"Baudru, Désiré. "

The judge smiled, as he said:

"I do not understand the theory of your defense, Arsène Lupin. If youare seeking to avoid responsibility for your crimes on the ground ofimbecility, such a line of defense is open to you. But I shall proceedwith the trial and pay no heed to your vagaries. "

He then narrated at length the various thefts, swindles and forgeriescharged against Lupin. Sometimes he questioned the prisoner, but thelatter simply grunted or remained silent. The examination of witnessescommenced. Some of the evidence given was immaterial; other portionsof it seemed more important, but through all of it there ran a vein ofcontradictions and inconsistencies. A wearisome obscurity envelopedthe proceedings, until Detective Ganimard was called as a witness; theninterest was revived. 

From the beginning the actions of the veteran detective appeared strangeand unaccountable. He was nervous and ill at ease. Several times helooked at the prisoner, with obvious doubt and anxiety. Then, with hishands resting on the rail in front of him, he recounted the events inwhich he had participated, including his pursuit of the prisoneracross Europe and his arrival in America. He was listened to with greatavidity, as his capture of Arsène Lupin was well known to everyonethrough the medium of the press. Toward the close of his testimony, after referring to his conversations with Arsène Lupin, he stopped, twice, embarrassed and undecided. It was apparent that he was possessedof some thought which he feared to utter. The judge said to him, sympathetically:

"If you are ill, you may retire for the present. "

"No, no, but---"

He stopped, looked sharply at the prisoner, and said:

"I ask permission to scrutinize the prisoner at closer range. There issome mystery about him that I must solve. "

He approached the accused man, examined him attentively for severalminutes, then returned to the witness-stand, and, in an almost solemnvoice, he said:

"I declare, on oath, that the prisoner now before me is not ArsèneLupin. "

A profound silence followed the statement. The judge, nonplused for amoment, exclaimed:

"Ah! What do you mean? That is absurd!"

The detective continued:

"At first sight there is a certain resemblance, but if you carefullyconsider the nose, the mouth, the hair, the color of skin, you willsee that it is not Arsène Lupin. And the eyes! Did he ever have thosealcoholic eyes!"

"Come, come, witness! What do you mean? Do you pretend to say that weare trying the wrong man?"

"In my opinion, yes. Arsène Lupin has, in some manner, contrived to putthis poor devil in his place, unless this man is a willing accomplice. "

This dramatic dénouement caused much laughter and excitement amongst thespectators. The judge adjourned the trial, and sent for Mon. Bouvier, the gaoler, and guards employed in the prison. 

When the trial was resumed, Mon. Bouvier and the gaoler examined theaccused and declared that there was only a very slight resemblancebetween the prisoner and Arsène Lupin. 

"Well, then!" exclaimed the judge, "who is this man? Where does he comefrom? What is he in prison for?"

Two of the prison-guards were called and both of them declared that theprisoner was Arsène Lupin. The judged breathed once more. 

But one of the guards then said:

"Yes, yes, I think it is he. "

"What!" cried the judge, impatiently, "you *think* it is he! What do youmean by that?"

"Well, I saw very little of the prisoner. He was placed in my charge inthe evening and, for two months, he seldom stirred, but laid on his bedwith his face to the wall. "

"What about the time prior to those two months?"

"Before that he occupied a cell in another part of the prison. He wasnot in cell 24. "

Here the head gaoler interrupted, and said:

"We changed him to another cell after his attempted escape. "

"But you, monsieur, you have seen him during those two months?"

"I had no occasion to see him. He was always quiet and orderly. "

"And this prisoner is not Arsène Lupin?"

"No. "

"Then who is he?" demanded the judge. 

"I do not know. "

"Then we have before us a man who was substituted for Arsène Lupin, twomonths ago. How do you explain that?"

"I cannot. "

In absolute despair, the judge turned to the accused and addressed himin a conciliatory tone:

"Prisoner, can you tell me how, and since when, you became an inmate ofthe Prison de la Santé?"

The engaging manner of the judge was calculated to disarm the mistrustand awaken the understanding of the accused man. He tried to reply. Finally, under clever and gentle questioning, he succeeded in framing afew phrases from which the following story was gleaned: Two months agohe had been taken to the Dépôt, examined and released. As he was leavingthe building, a free man, he was seized by two guards and placed in theprison-van. Since then he had occupied cell 24. He was contented there, plenty to eat, and he slept well--so he did not complain. 

All that seemed probable; and, amidst the mirth and excitement of thespectators, the judge adjourned the trial until the story could beinvestigated and verified. 

* * * * *

The following facts were at once established by an examination of theprison records: Eight weeks before a man named Baudru Désiré had sleptat the Dépôt. He was released the next day, and left the Dépôt at twoo'clock in the afternoon. On the same day at two o'clock, having beenexamined for the last time, Arsène Lupin left the Dépôt in a prison-van. 

Had the guards made a mistake? Had they been deceived by the resemblanceand carelessly substituted this man for their prisoner?

Another question suggested itself: Had the substitution been arranged inadvance? In that event Baudru must have been an accomplice and must havecaused his own arrest for the express purpose of taking Lupin'splace. But then, by what miracle had such a plan, based on a series ofimprobable chances, been carried to success?

Baudru Désiré was turned over to the anthropological service; theyhad never seen anything like him. However, they easily traced his pasthistory. He was known at Courbevois, at Asnières and at Levallois. He lived on alms and slept in one of those rag-picker's huts near thebarrier de Ternes. He had disappeared from there a year ago. 

Had he been enticed away by Arsène Lupin? There was no evidence to thateffect. And even if that was so, it did not explain the flight of theprisoner. That still remained a mystery. Amongst twenty theories whichsought to explain it, not one was satisfactory. Of the escape itself, there was no doubt; an escape that was incomprehensible, sensational, in which the public, as well as the officers of the law, could detecta carefully prepared plan, a combination of circumstances marvelouslydove-tailed, whereof the dénouement fully justified the confidentprediction of Arsène Lupin: "I shall not be present at my trial. "

After a month of patient investigation, the problem remained unsolved. The poor devil of a Baudru could not be kept in prison indefinitely, andto place him on trial would be ridiculous. There was no charge againsthim. Consequently, he was released; but the chief of the Sûrété resolvedto keep him under surveillance. This idea originated with Ganimard. Fromhis point of view there was neither complicity nor chance. Baudru wasan instrument upon which Arsène Lupin had played with his extraordinaryskill. Baudru, when set at liberty, would lead them to Arsène Lupin or, at least, to some of his accomplices. The two inspectors, Folenfant andDieuzy, were assigned to assist Ganimard. 

One foggy morning in January the prison gates opened and Baudru Désiréstepped forth--a free man. At first he appeared to be quite embarrassed, and walked like a person who has no precise idea whither he is going. He followed the rue de la Santé and the rue Saint Jacques. He stopped infront of an old-clothes shop, removed his jacket and his vest, sold hisvest on which he realized a few sous; then, replacing his jacket, heproceeded on his way. He crossed the Seine. At the Châtelet anomnibus passed him. He wished to enter it, but there was no place. The controller advised him to secure a number, so he entered thewaiting-room. 

Ganimard called to his two assistants, and, without removing his eyesfrom the waiting room, he said to them:

"Stop a carriage. .. . No, two. That will be better. I will go with one ofyou, and we will follow him. "

The men obeyed. Yet Baudru did not appear. Ganimard entered thewaiting-room. It was empty. 

"Idiot that I am!" he muttered, "I forgot there was another exit. "

There was an interior corridor extending from the waiting-room to therue Saint Martin. Ganimard rushed through it and arrived just in time toobserve Baudru upon the top of the Batignolles-Jardin de Plates omnibusas it was turning the corner of the rue de Rivoli. He ran and caughtthe omnibus. But he had lost his two assistants. He must continue thepursuit alone. In his anger he was inclined to seize the man by thecollar without ceremony. Was it not with premeditation and by means ofan ingenious ruse that his pretended imbecile had separated him from hisassistants?

He looked at Baudru. The latter was asleep on the bench, his headrolling from side to side, his mouth half-opened, and an incredibleexpression of stupidity on his blotched face. No, such an adversary wasincapable of deceiving old Ganimard. It was a stroke of luck--nothingmore. 

At the Galleries-Lafayette, the man leaped from the omnibus and tookthe La Muette tramway, following the boulevard Haussmann and theavenue Victor Hugo. Baudru alighted at La Muette station; and, with anonchalant air, strolled into the Bois de Boulogne. 

He wandered through one path after another, and sometimes retraced hissteps. What was he seeking? Had he any definite object? At the end ofan hour, he appeared to be faint from fatigue, and, noticing a bench, hesat down. The spot, not far from Auteuil, on the edge of a pond hiddenamongst the trees, was absolutely deserted. After the lapse of anotherhalf-hour, Ganimard became impatient and resolved to speak to the man. He approached and took a seat beside Baudru, lighted a cigarette, tracedsome figures in the sand with the end of his cane, and said:

"It's a pleasant day. "

No response. But, suddenly the man burst into laughter, a happy, mirthful laugh, spontaneous and irresistible. Ganimard felt his hairstand on end in horror and surprise. It was that laugh, that infernallaugh he knew so well!

With a sudden movement, he seized the man by the collar and looked athim with a keen, penetrating gaze; and found that he no longer saw theman Baudru. To be sure, he saw Baudru; but, at the same time, he saw theother, the real man, Lupin. He discovered the intense life in the eyes, he filled up the shrunken features, he perceived the real flesh beneaththe flabby skin, the real mouth through the grimaces that deformed it. Those were the eyes and mouth of the other, and especially his keen, alert, mocking expression, so clear and youthful!

"Arsène Lupin, Arsène Lupin, " he stammered. 

Then, in a sudden fit of rage, he seized Lupin by the throat and triedto hold him down. In spite of his fifty years, he still possessedunusual strength, whilst his adversary was apparently in a weakcondition. But the struggle was a brief one. Arsène Lupin made only aslight movement, and, as suddenly as he had made the attack, Ganimardreleased his hold. His right arm fell inert, useless. 

"If you had taken lessons in jiu-jitsu at the quai des Orfèvres, " saidLupin, "you would know that that blow is called udi-shi-ghi in Japanese. A second more, and I would have broken your arm and that would have beenjust what you deserve. I am surprised that you, an old friend whom Irespect and before whom I voluntarily expose my incognito, should abusemy confidence in that violent manner. It is unworthy--Ah! What's thematter?"

Ganimard did not reply. That escape for which he deemed himselfresponsible--was it not he, Ganimard, who, by his sensational evidence, had led the court into serious error? That escape appeared to him likea dark cloud on his professional career. A tear rolled down his cheek tohis gray moustache. 

"Oh! mon Dieu, Ganimard, don't take it to heart. If you had not spoken, I would have arranged for some one else to do it. I couldn't allow poorBaudru Désiré to be convicted. "

"Then, " murmured Ganimard, "it was you that was there? And now you arehere?"

"It is I, always I, only I. "

"Can it be possible?"

"Oh, it is not the work of a sorcerer. Simply, as the judge remarked atthe trial, the apprenticeship of a dozen years that equips a man to copesuccessfully with all the obstacles in life. "

"But your face? Your eyes?"

"You can understand that if I worked eighteen months with Doctor Altierat the Saint-Louis hospital, it was not out of love for the work. Iconsidered that he, who would one day have the honor of calling himselfArsène Lupin, ought to be exempt from the ordinary laws governingappearance and identity. Appearance? That can be modified at will. Forinstance, a hypodermic injection of paraffine will puff up the skin atthe desired spot. Pyrogallic acid will change your skin to that of anIndian. The juice of the greater celandine will adorn you with the mostbeautiful eruptions and tumors. Another chemical affects the growth ofyour beard and hair; another changes the tone of your voice. Add to thattwo months of dieting in cell 24; exercises repeated a thousand times toenable me to hold my features in a certain grimace, to carry my headat a certain inclination, and adapt my back and shoulders to a stoopingposture. Then five drops of atropine in the eyes to make them haggardand wild, and the trick is done. "

"I do not understand how you deceived the guards. "

"The change was progressive. The evolution was so gradual that theyfailed to notice it. "

"But Baudru Désiré?" "Baudru exists. He is a poor, harmless fellow whomI met last year; and, really, he bears a certain resemblance to me. Considering my arrest as a possible event, I took charge of Baudru andstudied the points wherein we differed in appearance with a view tocorrect them in my own person. My friends caused him to remain at theDépôt overnight, and to leave there next day about the same hour as Idid--a coincidence easily arranged. Of course, it was necessary to havea record of his detention at the Dépôt in order to establish the factthat such a person was a reality; otherwise, the police would havesought elsewhere to find out my identity. But, in offering to them thisexcellent Baudru, it was inevitable, you understand, inevitable thatthey would seize upon him, and, despite the insurmountable difficultiesof a substitution, they would prefer to believe in a substitution thanconfess their ignorance. "

"Yes, yes, of course, " said Ganimard. 

"And then, " exclaimed Arsène Lupin, "I held in my hands a trump-card: ananxious public watching and waiting for my escape. And that is the fatalerror into which you fell, you and the others, in the course of thatfascinating game pending between me and the officers of the law whereinthe stake was my liberty. And you supposed that I was playing to thegallery; that I was intoxicated with my success. I, Arsène Lupin, guiltyof such weakness! Oh, no! And, no longer ago than the Cahorn affair, yousaid: "When Arsène Lupin cries from the housetops that he will escape, he has some object in view. " But, sapristi, you must understand thatin order to escape I must create, in advance, a public belief inthat escape, a belief amounting to an article of faith, an absoluteconviction, a reality as glittering as the sun. And I did create thatbelief that Arsène Lupin would escape, that Arsène Lupin would not bepresent at his trial. And when you gave your evidence and said: "Thatman is not Arsène Lupin, " everybody was prepared to believe you. Had oneperson doubted it, had any one uttered this simple restriction: Supposeit is Arsène Lupin?--from that moment, I was lost. If anyone hadscrutinized my face, not imbued with the idea that I was not ArsèneLupin, as you and the others did at my trial, but with the idea that Imight be Arsène Lupin; then, despite all my precautions, I should havebeen recognized. But I had no fear. Logically, psychologically, no oncecould entertain the idea that I was Arsène Lupin. "

He grasped Ganimard's hand. 

"Come, Ganimard, confess that on the Wednesday after our conversation inthe prison de la Santé, you expected me at your house at four o'clock, exactly as I said I would go. "

"And your prison-van?" said Ganimard, evading the question. 

"A bluff! Some of my friends secured that old unused van and wishedto make the attempt. But I considered it impractical without theconcurrence of a number of unusual circumstances. However, I foundit useful to carry out that attempted escape and give it the widestpublicity. An audaciously planned escape, though not completed, gave tothe succeeding one the character of reality simply by anticipation. "

"So that the cigar. .. . "

"Hollowed by myself, as well as the knife. "

"And the letters?"

"Written by me. "

"And the mysterious correspondent?"

"Did not exist. "

Ganimard reflected a moment, then said:

"When the anthropological service had Baudru's case under consideration, why did they not perceive that his measurements coincided with those ofArsène Lupin?"

"My measurements are not in existence. "

"Indeed!"

"At least, they are false. I have given considerable attention tothat question. In the first place, the Bertillon system of records thevisible marks of identification--and you have seen that they are notinfallible--and, after that, the measurements of the head, thefingers, the ears, etc. Of course, such measurements are more or lessinfallible. "

"Absolutely. "

"No; but it costs money to get around them. Before we left America, oneof the employees of the service there accepted so much money to insertfalse figures in my measurements. Consequently, Baudru's measurementsshould not agree with those of Arsène Lupin. "

After a short silence, Ganimard asked:

"What are you going to do now?"

"Now, " replied Lupin, "I am going to take a rest, enjoy the best of foodand drink and gradually recover my former healthy condition. It is allvery well to become Baudru or some other person, on occasion, and tochange your personality as you do your shirt, but you soon grow weary ofthe change. I feel exactly as I imagine the man who lost his shadow musthave felt, and I shall be glad to be Arsène Lupin once more. "

He walked to and fro for a few minutes, then, stopping in front ofGanimard, he said:

"You have nothing more to say, I suppose?"

"Yes. I should like to know if you intend to reveal the true state offacts connected with your escape. The mistake that I made---"

"Oh! no one will ever know that it was Arsène Lupin who was discharged. It is to my own interest to surround myself with mystery, and thereforeI shall permit my escape to retain its almost miraculous character. So, have no fear on that score, my dear friend. I shall say nothing. Andnow, good-bye. I am going out to dinner this evening, and have onlysufficient time to dress. "

"I though you wanted a rest. "

"Ah! there are duties to society that one cannot avoid. To-morrow, Ishall rest. "

"Where do you dine to-night?"

"With the British Ambassador!"

IV. The Mysterious Traveller

The evening before, I had sent my automobile to Rouen by the highway. I was to travel to Rouen by rail, on my way to visit some friends thatlive on the banks of the Seine. 

At Paris, a few minutes before the train started, seven gentlemenentered my compartment; five of them were smoking. No matter that thejourney was a short one, the thought of traveling with such a companywas not agreeable to me, especially as the car was built on the oldmodel, without a corridor. I picked up my overcoat, my newspapers and mytime-table, and sought refuge in a neighboring compartment. 

It was occupied by a lady, who, at sight of me, made a gesture ofannoyance that did not escape my notice, and she leaned toward agentleman who was standing on the step and was, no doubt, her husband. The gentleman scrutinized me closely, and, apparently, my appearance didnot displease him, for he smiled as he spoke to his wife with the airof one who reassures a frightened child. She smiled also, and gave me afriendly glance as if she now understood that I was one of those gallantmen with whom a woman can remain shut up for two hours in a little box, six feet square, and have nothing to fear. 

Her husband said to her:

"I have an important appointment, my dear, and cannot wait any longer. Adieu. "

He kissed her affectionately and went away. His wife threw him a fewkisses and waved her handkerchief. The whistle sounded, and the trainstarted. 

At that precise moment, and despite the protests of the guards, the doorwas opened, and a man rushed into our compartment. My companion, whowas standing and arranging her luggage, uttered a cry of terror and fellupon the seat. I am not a coward--far from it--but I confess that suchintrusions at the last minute are always disconcerting. They have asuspicious, unnatural aspect. 

However, the appearance of the new arrival greatly modified theunfavorable impression produced by his precipitant action. He wascorrectly and elegantly dressed, wore a tasteful cravat, correct gloves, and his face was refined and intelligent. But, where the devil had Iseen that face before? Because, beyond all possible doubt, I had seenit. And yet the memory of it was so vague and indistinct that I felt itwould be useless to try to recall it at that time. 

Then, directing my attention to the lady, I was amazed at the pallorand anxiety I saw in her face. She was looking at her neighbor--theyoccupied seats on the same side of the compartment--with an expressionof intense alarm, and I perceived that one of her trembling hands wasslowly gliding toward a little traveling bag that was lying on the seatabout twenty inches from her. She finished by seizing it and nervouslydrawing it to her. Our eyes met, and I read in hers so much anxiety andfear that I could not refrain from speaking to her:

"Are you ill, madame? Shall I open the window?"

Her only reply was a gesture indicating that she was afraid of ourcompanion. I smiled, as her husband had done, shrugged my shoulders, andexplained to her, in pantomime, that she had nothing to fear, that Iwas there, and, besides, the gentleman appeared to be a very harmlessindividual. At that moment, he turned toward us, scrutinized both of usfrom head to foot, then settled down in his corner and paid us no moreattention. 

After a short silence, the lady, as if she had mustered all her energyto perform a desperate act, said to me, in an almost inaudible voice:

"Do you know who is on our train?"

"Who?"

"He. .. . He. .. . I assure you. .. . "

"Who is he?"

"Arsène Lupin!"

She had not taken her eyes off our companion, and it was to him ratherthan to me that she uttered the syllables of that disquieting name. He drew his hat over his face. Was that to conceal his agitation or, simply, to arrange himself for sleep? Then I said to her:

"Yesterday, through contumacy, Arsène Lupin was sentenced to twentyyears' imprisonment at hard labor. Therefore it is improbable that hewould be so imprudent, to-day, as to show himself in public. Moreover, the newspapers have announced his appearance in Turkey since his escapefrom the Santé. "

"But he is on this train at the present moment, " the lady proclaimed, with the obvious intention of being heard by our companion; "my husbandis one of the directors in the penitentiary service, and it was thestationmaster himself who told us that a search was being made forArsène Lupin. "

"They may have been mistaken---"

"No; he was seen in the waiting-room. He bought a first-class ticket forRouen. "

"He has disappeared. The guard at the waiting-room door did not see himpass, and it is supposed that he had got into the express that leavesten minutes after us. "

"In that case, they will be sure to catch him. "

"Unless, at the last moment, he leaped from that train to come here, into our train. .. . Which is quite probable. .. . Which is almost certain. "

"If so, he will be arrested just the same; for the employees and guardswould no doubt observe his passage from one train to the other, and, when we arrive at Rouen, they will arrest him there. "

"Him--never! He will find some means of escape. "

"In that case, I wish him 'bon voyage. '"

"But, in the meantime, think what he may do!"

"What?"

"I don't know. He may do anything. "

She was greatly agitated, and, truly, the situation justified, to someextent, her nervous excitement. I was impelled to say to her:

"Of course, there are many strange coincidences, but you need have nofear. Admitting that Arsène Lupin is on this train, he will not commitany indiscretion; he will be only too happy to escape the peril thatalready threatens him. "

My words did not reassure her, but she remained silent for a time. Iunfolded my newspapers and read reports of Arsène Lupin's trial, but, asthey contained nothing that was new to me, I was not greatly interested. Moreover, I was tired and sleepy. I felt my eyelids close and my headdrop. 

"But, monsieur, you are not going to sleep!"

She seized my newspaper, and looked at me with indignation. 

"Certainly not, " I said. 

"That would be very imprudent. "

"Of course, " I assented. 

I struggled to keep awake. I looked through the window at the landscapeand the fleeting clouds, but in a short time all that became confusedand indistinct; the image of the nervous lady and the drowsy gentlemanwere effaced from my memory, and I was buried in the soothing depths ofa profound sleep. The tranquility of my response was soon disturbed bydisquieting dreams, wherein a creature that had played the part and borethe name of Arsène Lupin held an important place. He appeared to mewith his back laden with articles of value; he leaped over walls, andplundered castles. But the outlines of that creature, who was no longerArsène Lupin, assumed a more definite form. He came toward me, growinglarger and larger, leaped into the compartment with incredible agility, and landed squarely on my chest. With a cry of fright and pain, I awoke. The man, the traveller, our companion, with his knee on my breast, heldme by the throat. 

My sight was very indistinct, for my eyes were suffused with blood. I could see the lady, in a corner of the compartment, convulsedwith fright. I tried even not to resist. Besides, I did not have thestrength. My temples throbbed; I was almost strangled. One minute more, and I would have breathed my last. The man must have realized it, for herelaxed his grip, but did not remove his hand. Then he took a cord, inwhich he had prepared a slip-knot, and tied my wrists together. In aninstant, I was bound, gagged, and helpless. 

Certainly, he accomplished the trick with an ease and skill thatrevealed the hand of a master; he was, no doubt, a professional thief. Not a word, not a nervous movement; only coolness and audacity. And Iwas there, lying on the bench, bound like a mummy, I--Arsène Lupin!

It was anything but a laughing matter, and yet, despite the gravityof the situation, I keenly appreciated the humor and irony that itinvolved. Arsène Lupin seized and bound like a novice! robbed as if Iwere an unsophisticated rustic--for, you must understand, the scoundrelhad deprived me of my purse and wallet! Arsène Lupin, a victim, duped, vanquished. .. . What an adventure!

The lady did not move. He did not even notice her. He contented himselfwith picking up her traveling-bag that had fallen to the floor andtaking from it the jewels, purse, and gold and silver trinkets that itcontained. The lady opened her eyes, trembled with fear, drew the ringsfrom her fingers and handed them to the man as if she wished to sparehim unnecessary trouble. He took the rings and looked at her. Sheswooned. 

Then, quite unruffled, he resumed his seat, lighted a cigarette, andproceeded to examine the treasure that he had acquired. The examinationappeared to give him perfect satisfaction. 

But I was not so well satisfied. I do not speak of the twelve thousandfrancs of which I had been unduly deprived: that was only a temporaryloss, because I was certain that I would recover possession of thatmoney after a very brief delay, together with the important paperscontained in my wallet: plans, specifications, addresses, lists ofcorrespondents, and compromising letters. But, for the moment, a moreimmediate and more serious question troubled me: How would this affairend? What would be the outcome of this adventure?

As you can imagine, the disturbance created by my passage through theSaint-Lazare station has not escaped my notice. Going to visit friendswho knew me under the name of Guillaume Berlat, and amongst whom myresemblance to Arsène Lupin was a subject of many innocent jests, Icould not assume a disguise, and my presence had been remarked. So, beyond question, the commissary of police at Rouen, notified bytelegraph, and assisted by numerous agents, would be awaiting the train, would question all suspicious passengers, and proceed to search thecars. 

Of course, I had foreseen all that, but it had not disturbed me, as Iwas certain that the police of Rouen would not be any shrewder than thepolice of Paris and that I could escape recognition; would it not besufficient for me to carelessly display my card as "député, " thanksto which I had inspired complete confidence in the gate-keeper atSaint-Lazare?--But the situation was greatly changed. I was no longerfree. It was impossible to attempt one of my usual tricks. In one ofthe compartments, the commissary of police would find Mon. Arsène Lupin, bound hand and foot, as docile as a lamb, packed up, all ready to bedumped into a prison-van. He would have simply to accept delivery of theparcel, the same as if it were so much merchandise or a basket of fruitand vegetables. Yet, to avoid that shameful dénouement, what could Ido?--bound and gagged, as I was? And the train was rushing on towardRouen, the next and only station. 

Another problem was presented, in which I was less interested, butthe solution of which aroused my professional curiosity. What were theintentions of my rascally companion? Of course, if I had been alone, hecould, on our arrival at Rouen, leave the car slowly and fearlessly. Butthe lady? As soon as the door of the compartment should be opened, thelady, now so quiet and humble, would scream and call for help. That wasthe dilemma that perplexed me! Why had he not reduced her to a helplesscondition similar to mine? That would have given him ample time todisappear before his double crime was discovered. 

He was still smoking, with his eyes fixed upon the window that wasnow being streaked with drops of rain. Once he turned, picked up mytime-table, and consulted it. 

The lady had to feign a continued lack of consciousness in order todeceive the enemy. But fits of coughing, provoked by the smoke, exposedher true condition. As to me, I was very uncomfortable, and very tired. And I meditated; I plotted. 

The train was rushing on, joyously, intoxicated with its own speed. 

Saint Etienne!. .. . At that moment, the man arose and took two stepstoward us, which caused the lady to utter a cry of alarm and fall intoa genuine swoon. What was the man about to do? He lowered the windowon our side. A heavy rain was now falling, and, by a gesture, the manexpressed his annoyance at his not having an umbrella or an overcoat. Heglanced at the rack. The lady's umbrella was there. He took it. He alsotook my overcoat and put it on. 

We were now crossing the Seine. He turned up the bottoms of histrousers, then leaned over and raised the exterior latch of the door. Was he going to throw himself upon the track? At that speed, it wouldhave been instant death. We now entered a tunnel. The man opened thedoor half-way and stood on the upper step. What folly! The darkness, thesmoke, the noise, all gave a fantastic appearance to his actions. Butsuddenly, the train diminished its speed. A moment later it increasedits speed, then slowed up again. Probably, some repairs were being madein that part of the tunnel which obliged the trains to diminish theirspeed, and the man was aware of the fact. He immediately stepped down tothe lower step, closed the door behind him, and leaped to the ground. Hewas gone. 

The lady immediately recovered her wits, and her first act was to lamentthe loss of her jewels. I gave her an imploring look. She understood, and quickly removed the gag that stifled me. She wished to untie thecords that bound me, but I prevented her. 

"No, no, the police must see everything exactly as it stands. I wantthem to see what the rascal did to us. "

"Suppose I pull the alarm-bell?"

"Too late. You should have done that when he made the attack on me. "

"But he would have killed me. Ah! monsieur, didn't I tell you that hewas on this train. I recognized him from his portrait. And now he hasgone off with my jewels. "

"Don't worry. The police will catch him. "

"Catch Arsène Lupin! Never. "

"That depends on you, madame. Listen. When we arrive at Rouen, be at thedoor and call. Make a noise. The police and the railway employees willcome. Tell what you have seen: the assault made on me and the flight ofArsène Lupin. Give a description of him--soft hat, umbrella--yours--grayovercoat. .. . "

"Yours, " said she. 

"What! mine? Not at all. It was his. I didn't have any. "

"It seems to me he didn't have one when he came in. "

"Yes, yes. .. . Unless the coat was one that some one had forgotten andleft in the rack. At all events, he had it when he went away, and thatis the essential point. A gray overcoat--remember!. .. . Ah! I forgot. You must tell your name, first thing you do. Your husband's officialposition will stimulate the zeal of the police. "

We arrived at the station. I gave her some further instructions in arather imperious tone:

"Tell them my name--Guillaume Berlat. If necessary, say that you knowme. That will save time. We must expedite the preliminary investigation. The important thing is the pursuit of Arsène Lupin. Your jewels, remember! Let there be no mistake. Guillaume Berlat, a friend of yourhusband. "

"I understand. .. . Guillaume Berlat. "

She was already calling and gesticulating. As soon as the train stopped, several men entered the compartment. The critical moment had come. 

Panting for breath, the lady exclaimed:

"Arsène Lupin. .. . He attacked us. .. . He stole my jewels. .. . I am MadameRenaud. .. . My husband is a director of the penitentiary service. .. . Ah!here is my brother, Georges Ardelle, director of the CréditRouennais. .. . You must know. .. . "

She embraced a young man who had just joined us, and whom the commissarysaluted. Then she continued, weeping:

"Yes, Arsène Lupin. .. . While monsieur was sleeping, he seized him by thethroat. .. . Mon. Berlat, a friend of my husband. "

The commissary asked:

"But where is Arsène Lupin?"

"He leaped from the train, when passing through the tunnel. "

"Are you sure that it was he?"

"Am I sure! I recognized him perfectly. Besides, he was seen at theSaint-Lazare station. He wore a soft hat---"

"No, a hard felt, like that, " said the commissary, pointing to my hat. 

"He had a soft hat, I am sure, " repeated Madame Renaud, "and a grayovercoat. "

"Yes, that is right, " replied the commissary, "the telegram says he worea gray overcoat with a black velvet collar. "

"Exactly, a black velvet collar, " exclaimed Madame Renaud, triumphantly. 

I breathed freely. Ah! the excellent friend I had in that little woman. 

The police agents had now released me. I bit my lips until they ranblood. Stooping over, with my handkerchief over my mouth, an attitudequite natural in a person who has remained for a long time in anuncomfortable position, and whose mouth shows the bloody marks of thegag, I addressed the commissary, in a weak voice:

"Monsieur, it was Arsène Lupin. There is no doubt about that. If we makehaste, he can be caught yet. I think I may be of some service to you. "

The railway car, in which the crime occurred, was detached from thetrain to serve as a mute witness at the official investigation. Thetrain continued on its way to Havre. We were then conducted to thestation-master's office through a crowd of curious spectators. 

Then, I had a sudden access of doubt and discretion. Under some pretextor other, I must gain my automobile, and escape. To remain there wasdangerous. Something might happen; for instance, a telegram from Paris, and I would be lost. 

Yes, but what about my thief? Abandoned to my own resources, in anunfamiliar country, I could not hope to catch him. 

"Bah! I must make the attempt, " I said to myself. "It may be a difficultgame, but an amusing one, and the stake is well worth the trouble. "

And when the commissary asked us to repeat the story of the robbery, Iexclaimed:

"Monsieur, really, Arsène Lupin is getting the start of us. Myautomobile is waiting in the courtyard. If you will be so kind as to useit, we can try. .. . "

The commissary smiled, and replied:

"The idea is a good one; so good, indeed, that it is already beingcarried out. Two of my men have set out on bicycles. They have been gonefor some time. "

"Where did they go?"

"To the entrance of the tunnel. There, they will gather evidence, securewitnesses, and follow on the track of Arsène Lupin. "

I could not refrain from shrugging my shoulders, as I replied:

"Your men will not secure any evidence or any witnesses. "

"Really!"

"Arsène Lupin will not allow anyone to see him emerge from the tunnel. He will take the first road---"

"To Rouen, where we will arrest him. "

"He will not go to Rouen. "

"Then he will remain in the vicinity, where his capture will be evenmore certain. "

"He will not remain in the vicinity. "

"Oh! oh! And where will he hide?"

I looked at my watch, and said:

"At the present moment, Arsène Lupin is prowling around the station atDarnétal. At ten fifty, that is, in twenty-two minutes from now, he willtake the train that goes from Rouen to Amiens. "

"Do you think so? How do you know it?"

"Oh! it is quite simple. While we were in the car, Arsène Lupinconsulted my railway guide. Why did he do it? Was there, not far fromthe spot where he disappeared, another line of railway, a stationupon that line, and a train stopping at that station? On consulting myrailway guide, I found such to be the case. "

"Really, monsieur, " said the commissary, "that is a marvelous deduction. I congratulate you on your skill. "

I was now convinced that I had made a mistake in displaying so muchcleverness. The commissary regarded me with astonishment, and I thoughta slight suspicion entered his official mind. .. . Oh! scarcely that, forthe photographs distributed broadcast by the police department were tooimperfect; they presented an Arsène Lupin so different from the one hehad before him, that he could not possibly recognize me by it. But, allthe same, he was troubled, confused and ill-at-ease. 

"Mon Dieu! nothing stimulates the comprehension so much as the loss of apocketbook and the desire to recover it. And it seems to me that if youwill give me two of your men, we may be able. .. . "

"Oh! I beg of you, monsieur le commissaire, " cried Madame Renaud, "listen to Mon. Berlat. "

The intervention of my excellent friend was decisive. Pronounced by her, the wife of an influential official, the name of Berlat became reallymy own, and gave me an identity that no mere suspicion could affect. Thecommissary arose, and said:

"Believe me, Monsieur Berlat, I shall be delighted to see you succeed. Iam as much interested as you are in the arrest of Arsène Lupin. "

He accompanied me to the automobile, and introduced two of his men, Honoré Massol and Gaston Delivet, who were assigned to assist me. Mychauffer cranked up the car and I took my place at the wheel. A fewseconds later, we left the station. I was saved. 

Ah! I must confess that in rolling over the boulevards that surroundedthe old Norman city, in my swift thirty-five horse-power Moreau-Lepton, I experienced a deep feeling of pride, and the motor responded, sympathetically to my desires. At right and left, the trees flew pastus with startling rapidity, and I, free, out of danger, had simply toarrange my little personal affairs with the two honest representativesof the Rouen police who were sitting behind me. Arsène Lupin was goingin search of Arsène Lupin!

Modest guardians of social order--Gaston Delivet and Honoré Massol--howvaluable was your assistance! What would I have done without you?Without you, many times, at the cross-roads, I might have taken thewrong route! Without you, Arsène Lupin would have made a mistake, andthe other would have escaped!

But the end was not yet. Far from it. I had yet to capture the thief andrecover the stolen papers. Under no circumstances must my two acolytesbe permitted to see those papers, much less to seize them. That was apoint that might give me some difficulty. 

We arrived at Darnétal three minutes after the departure of the train. True, I had the consolation of learning that a man wearing a grayovercoat with a black velvet collar had taken the train at the station. He had bought a second-class ticket for Amiens. Certainly, my début asdetective was a promising one. 

Delivet said to me:

"The train is express, and the next stop is Montérolier-Buchy innineteen minutes. If we do not reach there before Arsène Lupin, he canproceed to Amiens, or change for the train going to Clères, and, fromthat point, reach Dieppe or Paris. "

"How far to Montérolier?"

"Twenty-three kilometres. "

"Twenty-three kilometres in nineteen minutes. .. . We will be there aheadof him. "

We were off again! Never had my faithful Moreau-Repton responded tomy impatience with such ardor and regularity. It participated in myanxiety. It indorsed my determination. It comprehended my animosityagainst that rascally Arsène Lupin. The knave! The traitor!

"Turn to the right, " cried Delivet, "then to the left. "

We fairly flew, scarcely touching the ground. The mile-stones lookedlike little timid beasts that vanished at our approach. Suddenly, at aturn of the road, we saw a vortex of smoke. It was the Northern Express. For a kilometre, it was a struggle, side by side, but an unequalstruggle in which the issue was certain. We won the race by twentylengths. 

In three seconds we were on the platform standing before thesecond-class carriages. The doors were opened, and some passengersalighted, but not my thief. We made a search through the compartments. No sign of Arsène Lupin. 

"Sapristi!" I cried, "he must have recognized me in the automobile as wewere racing, side by side, and he leaped from the train. "

"Ah! there he is now! crossing the track. "

I started in pursuit of the man, followed by my two acolytes, or ratherfollowed by one of them, for the other, Massol, proved himself to be arunner of exceptional speed and endurance. In a few moments, he had madean appreciable gain upon the fugitive. The man noticed it, leaped overa hedge, scampered across a meadow, and entered a thick grove. When wereached this grove, Massol was waiting for us. He went no farther, forfear of losing us. 

"Quite right, my dear friend, " I said. "After such a run, our victimmust be out of wind. We will catch him now. "

I examined the surroundings with the idea of proceeding alone in thearrest of the fugitive, in order to recover my papers, concerning whichthe authorities would doubtless ask many disagreeable questions. Then Ireturned to my companions, and said:

"It is all quite easy. You, Massol, take your place at the left; you, Delivet, at the right. From there, you can observe the entire posteriorline of the bush, and he cannot escape without you seeing him, except bythat ravine, and I shall watch it. If he does not come out voluntarily, I will enter and drive him out toward one or the other of you. You havesimply to wait. Ah! I forgot: in case I need you, a pistol shot. "

Massol and Delivet walked away to their respective posts. As soon asthey had disappeared, I entered the grove with the greatest precautionso as to be neither seen nor heard. I encountered dense thickets, through which narrow paths had been cut, but the overhanging boughscompelled me to adopt a stooping posture. One of these paths led to aclearing in which I found footsteps upon the wet grass. I followed them;they led me to the foot of a mound which was surmounted by a deserted, dilapidated hovel. 

"He must be there, " I said to myself. "It is a well-chosen retreat. "

I crept cautiously to the side of the building. A slight noise informedme that he was there; and, then, through an opening, I saw him. His backwas turned toward me. In two bounds, I was upon him. He tried to firea revolver that he held in his hand. But he had no time. I threw him tothe ground, in such a manner that his arms were beneath him, twisted andhelpless, whilst I held him down with my knee on his breast. 

"Listen, my boy, " I whispered in his ear. "I am Arsène Lupin. You areto deliver over to me, immediately and gracefully, my pocketbook and thelady's jewels, and, in return therefore, I will save you from the policeand enroll you amongst my friends. One word: yes or no?"

"Yes, " he murmured. 

"Very good. Your escape, this morning, was well planned. I congratulateyou. "

I arose. He fumbled in his pocket, drew out a large knife and tried tostrike me with it. 

"Imbecile!" I exclaimed. 

With one hand, I parried the attack; with the other, I gave him a sharpblow on the carotid artery. He fell--stunned!

In my pocketbook, I recovered my papers and bank-notes. Out ofcuriosity, I took his. Upon an envelope, addressed to him, I read hisname: Pierre Onfrey. It startled me. Pierre Onfrey, the assassin of therue Lafontaine at Auteuil! Pierre Onfrey, he who had cut the throats ofMadame Delbois and her two daughters. I leaned over him. Yes, those werethe features which, in the compartment, had evoked in me the memory of aface I could not then recall. 

But time was passing. I placed in an envelope two bank-notes of onehundred francs each, with a card bearing these words: "Arsène Lupinto his worthy colleagues Honoré Massol and Gaston Delivet, as a slighttoken of his gratitude. " I placed it in a prominent spot in the room, where they would be sure to find it. Beside it, I placed Madame Renaud'shandbag. Why could I not return it to the lady who had befriended me?I must confess that I had taken from it everything that possessed anyinterest or value, leaving there only a shell comb, a stick of rougeDorin for the lips, and an empty purse. But, you know, businessis business. And then, really, her husband is engaged in such adishonorable vocation!

The man was becoming conscious. What was I to do? I was unable to savehim or condemn him. So I took his revolver and fired a shot in the air. 

"My two acolytes will come and attend to his case, " I said to myself, asI hastened away by the road through the ravine. Twenty minutes later, Iwas seated in my automobile. 

At four o'clock, I telegraphed to my friends at Rouen that an unexpectedevent would prevent me from making my promised visit. Between ourselves, considering what my friends must now know, my visit is postponedindefinitely. A cruel disillusion for them!

At six o'clock I was in Paris. The evening newspapers informed me thatPierre Onfrey had been captured at last. 

Next day, --let us not despise the advantages of judiciousadvertising, --the `Echo de France' published this sensational item:

"Yesterday, near Buchy, after numerous exciting incidents, Arsène Lupineffected the arrest of Pierre Onfrey. The assassin of the rue Lafontainehad robbed Madame Renaud, wife of the director in the penitentiaryservice, in a railway carriage on the Paris-Havre line. Arsène Lupinrestored to Madame Renaud the hand-bag that contained her jewels, andgave a generous recompense to the two detectives who had assisted him inmaking that dramatic arrest. "

V. The Queen's Necklace

Two or three times each year, on occasions of unusual importance, such as the balls at the Austrian Embassy or the soirées of LadyBillingstone, the Countess de Dreux-Soubise wore upon her whiteshoulders "The Queen's Necklace. "

It was, indeed, the famous necklace, the legendary necklace thatBohmer and Bassenge, court jewelers, had made for Madame Du Barry; theveritable necklace that the Cardinal de Rohan-Soubise intended to giveto Marie-Antoinette, Queen of France; and the same that the adventuressJeanne de Valois, Countess de la Motte, had pulled to pieces one eveningin February, 1785, with the aid of her husband and their accomplice, Rétaux de Villette. 

To tell the truth, the mounting alone was genuine. Rétaux de Villettehad kept it, whilst the Count de la Motte and his wife scattered to thefour winds of heaven the beautiful stones so carefully chosen by Bohmer. Later, he sold the mounting to Gaston de Dreux-Soubise, nephew and heirof the Cardinal, who re-purchased the few diamonds that remained inthe possession of the English jeweler, Jeffreys; supplemented them withother stones of the same size but of much inferior quality, and thusrestored the marvelous necklace to the form in which it had come fromthe hands of Bohmer and Bassenge. 

For nearly a century, the house of Dreux-Soubise had prided itself uponthe possession of this historic jewel. Although adverse circumstanceshad greatly reduced their fortune, they preferred to curtail theirhousehold expenses rather than part with this relic of royalty. Moreparticularly, the present count clung to it as a man clings to thehome of his ancestors. As a matter of prudence, he had rented asafety-deposit box at the Crédit Lyonnais in which to keep it. He wentfor it himself on the afternoon of the day on which his wife wished towear it, and he, himself, carried it back next morning. 

On this particular evening, at the reception given at the Palaisde Castille, the Countess achieved a remarkable success; and KingChristian, in whose honor the fête was given, commented on her graceand beauty. The thousand facets of the diamond sparkled and shone likeflames of fire about her shapely neck and shoulders, and it is safe tosay that none but she could have borne the weight of such an ornamentwith so much ease and grace. 

This was a double triumph, and the Count de Dreux was highly elatedwhen they returned to their chamber in the old house of the faubourgSaint-Germain. He was proud of his wife, and quite as proud, perhaps, of the necklace that had conferred added luster to his noble housefor generations. His wife, also, regarded the necklace with an almostchildish vanity, and it was not without regret that she removed itfrom her shoulders and handed it to her husband who admired it aspassionately as if he had never seen it before. Then, having placed itin its case of red leather, stamped with the Cardinal's arms, he passedinto an adjoining room which was simply an alcove or cabinet that hadbeen cut off from their chamber, and which could be entered only bymeans of a door at the foot of their bed. As he had done on previousoccasions, he hid it on a high shelf amongst hat-boxes and piles oflinen. He closed the door, and retired. 

Next morning, he arose about nine o'clock, intending to go to the CréditLyonnais before breakfast. He dressed, drank a cup of coffee, and wentto the stables to give his orders. The condition of one of the horsesworried him. He caused it to be exercised in his presence. Then hereturned to his wife, who had not yet left the chamber. Her maid wasdressing her hair. When her husband entered, she asked:

"Are you going out?"

"Yes, as far as the bank. "

"Of course. That is wise. "

He entered the cabinet; but, after a few seconds, and without any signof astonishment, he asked:

"Did you take it, my dear?"

"What?. .. . No, I have not taken anything. "

"You must have moved it. "

"Not at all. I have not even opened that door. "

He appeared at the door, disconcerted, and stammered, in a scarcelyintelligible voice:

"You haven't. .. . It wasn't you?. .. . Then. .. . "

She hastened to his assistance, and, together, they made a thoroughsearch, throwing the boxes to the floor and overturning the piles oflinen. Then the count said, quite discouraged:

"It is useless to look any more. I put it here, on this shelf. "

"You must be mistaken. "

"No, no, it was on this shelf--nowhere else. "

They lighted a candle, as the room was quite dark, and then carried outall the linen and other articles that the room contained. And, when theroom was emptied, they confessed, in despair, that the famous necklacehad disappeared. Without losing time in vain lamentations, the countessnotified the commissary of police, Mon. Valorbe, who came at once, and, after hearing their story, inquired of the count:

"Are you sure that no one passed through your chamber during the night?"

"Absolutely sure, as I am a very light sleeper. Besides, the chamberdoor was bolted, and I remember unbolting it this morning when my wiferang for her maid. "

"And there is no other entrance to the cabinet?"

"None. "

"No windows?"

"Yes, but it is closed up. "

"I will look at it. "

Candles were lighted, and Mon. Valorbe observed at once that the lowerhalf of the window was covered by a large press which was, however, sonarrow that it did not touch the casement on either side. 

"On what does this window open?"

"A small inner court. "

"And you have a floor above this?"

"Two; but, on a level with the servant's floor, there is a close gratingover the court. That is why this room is so dark. "

When the press was moved, they found that the window was fastened, whichwould not have been the case if anyone had entered that way. 

"Unless, " said the count, "they went out through our chamber. "

"In that case, you would have found the door unbolted. "

The commissary considered the situation for a moment, then asked thecountess:

"Did any of your servants know that you wore the necklace last evening?"

"Certainly; I didn't conceal the fact. But nobody knew that it washidden in that cabinet. "

"No one?"

"No one. .. . Unless. .. . "

"Be quite sure, madam, as it is a very important point. "

She turned to her husband, and said:

"I was thinking of Henriette. "

"Henriette? She didn't know where we kept it. "

"Are you sure?"

"Who is this woman Henriette?" asked Mon. Valorbe. 

"A school-mate, who was disowned by her family for marrying beneath her. After her husband's death, I furnished an apartment in this house forher and her son. She is clever with her needle and has done some workfor me. "

"What floor is she on?"

"Same as ours. .. . At the end of the corridor. .. . And I think. .. . Thewindow of her kitchen. .. . "

"Opens on this little court, does it not?"

"Yes, just opposite ours. "

Mon. Valorbe then asked to see Henriette. They went to her apartment;she was sewing, whilst her son Raoul, about six years old, was sittingbeside her, reading. The commissary was surprised to see the wretchedapartment that had been provided for the woman. It consisted of one roomwithout a fireplace, and a very small room that served as a kitchen. Thecommissary proceeded to question her. She appeared to be overwhelmed onlearning of the theft. Last evening she had herself dressed the countessand placed the necklace upon her shoulders. 

"Good God!" she exclaimed, "it can't be possible!"

"And you have no idea? Not the least suspicion? Is it possible that thethief may have passed through your room?"

She laughed heartily, never supposing that she could be an object ofsuspicion. 

"But I have not left my room. I never go out. And, perhaps, you have notseen?"

She opened the kitchen window, and said:

"See, it is at least three metres to the ledge of the opposite window. "

"Who told you that we supposed the theft might have been committed inthat way?"

"But. .. . The necklace was in the cabinet, wasn't it?"

"How do you know that?"

"Why, I have always known that it was kept there at night. It had beenmentioned in my presence. "

Her face, though still young, bore unmistakable traces of sorrow andresignation. And it now assumed an expression of anxiety as if somedanger threatened her. She drew her son toward her. The child took herhand, and kissed it affectionately. 

When they were alone again, the count said to the commissary:

"I do not suppose you suspect Henriette. I can answer for her. She ishonesty itself. "

"I quite agree with you, " replied Mon. Valorbe. "At most, I thoughtthere might have been an unconscious complicity. But I confess that eventhat theory must be abandoned, as it does not help solve the problem nowbefore us. "

The commissary of police abandoned the investigation, which was nowtaken up and completed by the examining judge. He questioned theservants, examined the condition of the bolt, experimented with theopening and closing of the cabinet window, and explored the little courtfrom top to bottom. All was in vain. The bolt was intact. The windowcould not be opened or closed from the outside. 

The inquiries especially concerned Henriette, for, in spite ofeverything, they always turned in her direction. They made a thoroughinvestigation of her past life, and ascertained that, during the lastthree years, she had left the house only four times, and her business, on those occasions, was satisfactorily explained. As a matter of fact, she acted as chambermaid and seamstress to the countess, who treated herwith great strictness and even severity. 

At the end of a week, the examining judge had secured no more definiteinformation than the commissary of police. The judge said:

"Admitting that we know the guilty party, which we do not, we areconfronted by the fact that we do not know how the theft wascommitted. We are brought face to face with two obstacles: a door and awindow--both closed and fastened. It is thus a double mystery. How couldanyone enter, and, moreover, how could any one escape, leaving behindhim a bolted door and a fastened window?"

At the end of four months, the secret opinion of the judge was that thecount and countess, being hard pressed for money, which was their normalcondition, had sold the Queen's Necklace. He closed the investigation. 

The loss of the famous jewel was a severe blow to the Dreux-Soubise. Their credit being no longer propped up by the reserve fund that such atreasure constituted, they found themselves confronted by more exactingcreditors and money-lenders. They were obliged to cut down to the quick, to sell or mortgage every article that possessed any commercial value. In brief, it would have been their ruin, if two large legacies from somedistant relatives had not saved them. 

Their pride also suffered a downfall, as if they had lost a quarteringfrom their escutcheon. And, strange to relate, it was upon her formerschoolmate, Henriette, that the countess vented her spleen. Towardher, the countess displayed the most spiteful feelings, and even openlyaccused her. First, Henriette was relegated to the servants' quarters, and, next day, discharged. 

For some time, the count and countess passed an uneventful life. Theytraveled a great deal. Only one incident of record occurred during thatperiod. Some months after the departure of Henriette, the countess wassurprised when she received and read the following letter, signed byHenriette:

"Madame, " "I do not know how to thank you; for it was you, was it not, who sent me that? It could not have been anyone else. No one but youknows where I live. If I am wrong, excuse me, and accept my sincerethanks for your past favors. .. . "

What did the letter mean? The present or past favors of the countessconsisted principally of injustice and neglect. Why, then, this letterof thanks?

When asked for an explanation, Henriette replied that she had receiveda letter, through the mails, enclosing two bank-notes of one thousandfrancs each. The envelope, which she enclosed with her reply, bore theParis post-mark, and was addressed in a handwriting that was obviouslydisguised. Now, whence came those two thousand francs? Who had sentthem? And why had they sent them?

Henriette received a similar letter and a like sum of money twelvemonths later. And a third time; and a fourth; and each year for a periodof six years, with this difference, that in the fifth and sixth yearsthe sum was doubled. There was another difference: the post-officeauthorities having seized one of the letters under the pretext that itwas not registered, the last two letters were duly sent according to thepostal regulations, the first dated from Saint-Germain, the other fromSuresnes. The writer signed the first one, "Anquety"; and the other, "Péchard. " The addresses that he gave were false. 

At the end of six years, Henriette died, and the mystery remainedunsolved. 

* * * * *

All these events are known to the public. The case was one of thosewhich excite public interest, and it was a strange coincidence that thisnecklace, which had caused such a great commotion in France at the closeof the eighteenth century, should create a similar commotion a centurylater. But what I am about to relate is known only to the partiesdirectly interested and a few others from whom the count exacted apromise of secrecy. As it is probable that some day or other thatpromise will be broken, I have no hesitation in rending the veil andthus disclosing the key to the mystery, the explanation of the letterpublished in the morning papers two days ago; an extraordinary letterwhich increased, if possible, the mists and shadows that envelope thisinscrutable drama. 

Five days ago, a number of guests were dining with the Count deDreux-Soubise. There were several ladies present, including his twonieces and his cousin, and the following gentlemen: the president ofEssaville, the deputy Bochas, the chevalier Floriani, whom the count hadknown in Sicily, and General Marquis de Rouzières, and old club friend. 

After the repast, coffee was served by the ladies, who gave thegentlemen permission to smoke their cigarettes, provided they would notdesert the salon. The conversation was general, and finally one of theguests chanced to speak of celebrated crimes. And that gave the Marquisde Rouzières, who delighted to tease the count, an opportunity tomention the affair of the Queen's Necklace, a subject that the countdetested. 

Each one expressed his own opinion of the affair; and, of course, theirvarious theories were not only contradictory but impossible. 

"And you, monsieur, " said the countess to the chevalier Floriani, "whatis your opinion?"

"Oh! I--I have no opinion, madame. "

All the guests protested; for the chevalier had just related in anentertaining manner various adventures in which he had participated withhis father, a magistrate at Palermo, and which established his judgmentand taste in such manners. 

"I confess, " said he, "I have sometimes succeeded in unravelingmysteries that the cleverest detectives have renounced; yet I do notclaim to be Sherlock Holmes. Moreover, I know very little about theaffair of the Queen's Necklace. "

Everybody now turned to the count, who was thus obliged, quiteunwillingly, to narrate all the circumstances connected with the theft. The chevalier listened, reflected, asked a few questions, and said:

"It is very strange. .. . At first sight, the problem appears to be a verysimple one. "

The count shrugged his shoulders. The others drew closer to thechevalier, who continued, in a dogmatic tone:

"As a general rule, in order to find the author of a crime or a theft, it is necessary to determine how that crime or theft was committed, or, at least, how it could have been committed. In the present case, nothingis more simple, because we are face to face, not with several theories, but with one positive fact, that is to say: the thief could only enterby the chamber door or the window of the cabinet. Now, a person cannotopen a bolted door from the outside. Therefore, he must have enteredthrough the window. "

"But it was closed and fastened, and we found it fastened afterward, "declared the count. 

"In order to do that, " continued Floriani, without heeding theinterruption, "he had simply to construct a bridge, a plank or a ladder, between the balcony of the kitchen and the ledge of the window, and asthe jewel-case---"

"But I repeat that the window was fastened, " exclaimed the count, impatiently. 

This time, Floriani was obliged to reply. He did so with the greatesttranquility, as if the objection was the most insignificant affair inthe world. 

"I will admit that it was; but is there not a transom in the upper partof the window?"

"How do you know that?"

"In the first place, that was customary in houses of that date; and, in the second place, without such a transom, the theft cannot beexplained. "

"Yes, there is one, but it was closed, the same as the window. Consequently, we did not pay attention to it. "

"That was a mistake; for, if you had examined it, you would have foundthat it had been opened. "

"But how?"

"I presume that, like all others, it opens by means of a wire with aring on the lower end. "

"Yes, but I do not see---"

"Now, through a hole in the window, a person could, by the aid of someinstrument, let us say a poker with a hook at the end, grip the ring, pull down, and open the transom. "

The count laughed and said:

"Excellent! excellent! Your scheme is very cleverly constructed, but youoverlook one thing, monsieur, there is no hole in the window. "

"There was a hole. "

"Nonsense, we would have seen it. "

"In order to see it, you must look for it, and no one has looked. Thehole is there; it must be there, at the side of the window, in theputty. In a vertical direction, of course. "

The count arose. He was greatly excited. He paced up and down the room, two or three times, in a nervous manner; then, approaching Floriani, said:

"Nobody has been in that room since; nothing has been changed. "

"Very well, monsieur, you can easily satisfy yourself that myexplanation is correct. "

"It does not agree with the facts established by the examining judge. You have seen nothing, and yet you contradict all that we have seen andall that we know. "

Floriani paid no attention to the count's petulance. He simply smiledand said:

"Mon Dieu, monsieur, I submit my theory; that is all. If I am mistaken, you can easily prove it. "

"I will do so at once. .. . I confess that your assurance---"

The count muttered a few more words; then suddenly rushed to the doorand passed out. Not a word was uttered in his absence; and this profoundsilence gave the situation an air of almost tragic importance. Finally, the count returned. He was pale and nervous. He said to his friends, ina trembling voice:

"I beg your pardon. .. . The revelations of the chevalier were sounexpected. .. . I should never have thought. .. . "

His wife questioned him, eagerly:

"Speak. .. . What is it?"

He stammered: "The hole is there, at the very spot, at the side of thewindow---"

He seized the chevalier's arm, and said to him in an imperious tone:

"Now, monsieur, proceed. I admit that you are right so far, butnow. .. . That is not all. .. . Go on. .. . Tell us the rest of it. "

Floriani disengaged his arm gently, and, after a moment, continued:

"Well, in my opinion, this is what happened. The thief, knowing that thecountess was going to wear the necklace that evening, had prepared hisgangway or bridge during your absence. He watched you through the windowand saw you hide the necklace. Afterward, he cut the glass and pulledthe ring. "

"Ah! but the distance was so great that it would be impossible for himto reach the window-fastening through the transom. "

"Well, then, if he could not open the window by reaching through thetransom, he must have crawled through the transom. "

"Impossible; it is too small. No man could crawl through it. "

"Then it was not a man, " declared Floriani. 

"What!"

"If the transom is too small to admit a man, it must have been a child. "

"A child!"

"Did you not say that your friend Henriette had a son?"

"Yes; a son named Raoul. "

"Then, in all probability, it was Raoul who committed the theft. "

"What proof have you of that?"

"What proof! Plenty of it. .. . For instance---"

He stopped, and reflected for a moment, then continued:

"For instance, that gangway or bridge. It is improbable that the childcould have brought it in from outside the house and carried it awayagain without being observed. He must have used something close at hand. In the little room used by Henriette as a kitchen, were there not someshelves against the wall on which she placed her pans and dishes?"

"Two shelves, to the best of my memory. "

"Are you sure that those shelves are really fastened to the woodenbrackets that support them? For, if they are not, we could be justifiedin presuming that the child removed them, fastened them together, andthus formed his bridge. Perhaps, also, since there was a stove, we mightfind the bent poker that he used to open the transom. "

Without saying a word, the count left the room; and, this time, thosepresent did not feel the nervous anxiety they had experienced thefirst time. They were confident that Floriani was right, and no one wassurprised when the count returned and declared:

"It was the child. Everything proves it. "

"You have seen the shelves and the poker?"

"Yes. The shelves have been unnailed, and the poker is there yet. "

But the countess exclaimed:

"You had better say it was his mother. Henriette is the guilty party. She must have compelled her son---"

"No, " declared the chevalier, "the mother had nothing to do with it. "

"Nonsense! they occupied the same room. The child could not have done itwithout the mother's knowledge. "

"True, they lived in the same room, but all this happened in theadjoining room, during the night, while the mother was asleep. "

"And the necklace?" said the count. "It would have been found amongstthe child's things. "

"Pardon me! He had been out. That morning, on which you found himreading, he had just come from school, and perhaps the commissary ofpolice, instead of wasting his time on the innocent mother, wouldhave been better employed in searching the child's desk amongst hisschool-books. "

"But how do you explain those two thousand francs that Henriettereceived each year? Are they not evidence of her complicity?"

"If she had been an accomplice, would she have thanked you for thatmoney? And then, was she not closely watched? But the child, being free, could easily go to a neighboring city, negotiate with some dealer andsell him one diamond or two diamonds, as he might wish, upon conditionthat the money should be sent from Paris, and that proceeding could berepeated from year to year. "

An indescribable anxiety oppressed the Dreux-Soubise and their guests. There was something in the tone and attitude of Floriani--something morethan the chevalier's assurance which, from the beginning, had so annoyedthe count. There was a touch of irony, that seemed rather hostile thansympathetic. But the count affected to laugh, as he said:

"All that is very ingenious and interesting, and I congratulate you uponyour vivid imagination. "

"No, not at all, " replied Floriani, with the utmost gravity, "I imaginenothing. I simply describe the events as they must have occurred. "

"But what do you know about them?"

"What you yourself have told me. I picture to myself the life of themother and child down there in the country; the illness of the mother, the schemes of and inventions of the child sell the precious stones inorder to save his mother's life, or, at least, soothe her dying moments. Her illness overcomes her. She dies. Years roll on. The child becomesa man; and then--and now I will give my imagination a free rein--letus suppose that the man feels a desire to return to the home of hischildhood, that he does so, and that he meets there certain people whosuspect and accuse his mother. .. . Do you realize the sorrow and anguishof such an interview in the very house wherein the original drama wasplayed?"

His words seemed to echo for a few seconds in the ensuing silence, and one could read upon the faces of the Count and Countess de Dreux abewildered effort to comprehend his meaning and, at the same time, thefear and anguish of such a comprehension. The count spoke at last, andsaid:

"Who are you, monsieur?"

"I? The chevalier Floriani, whom you met at Palermo, and whom you havebeen gracious enough to invite to your house on several occasions. "

"Then what does this story mean?"

"Oh! nothing at all! It is simply a pastime, so far as I am concerned. Iendeavor to depict the pleasure that Henriette's son, if he still lives, would have in telling you that he was the guilty party, and that he didit because his mother was unhappy, as she was on the point of losingthe place of a. .. . Servant, by which she lived, and because the childsuffered at sight of his mother's sorrow. "

He spoke with suppressed emotion, rose partially and inclined towardthe countess. There could be no doubt that the chevalier Floriani wasHenriette's son. His attitude and words proclaimed it. Besides, was itnot his obvious intention and desire to be recognized as such?

The count hesitated. What action would he take against the audaciousguest? Ring? Provoke a scandal? Unmask the man who had once robbed him?But that was a long time ago! And who would believe that absurd storyabout the guilty child? No; better far to accept the situation, andpretend not to comprehend the true meaning of it. So the count, turningto Floriani, exclaimed:

"Your story is very curious, very entertaining; I enjoyed it much. Butwhat do you think has become of this young man, this model son? Ihope he has not abandoned the career in which he made such a brilliantdébut. "

"Oh! certainly not. "

"After such a début! To steal the Queen's Necklace at six years of age;the celebrated necklace that was coveted by Marie-Antoinette!"

"And to steal it, " remarked Floriani, falling in with the count's mood, "without costing him the slightest trouble, without anyone thinking toexamine the condition of the window, or to observe that the window-sillwas too clean--that window-sill which he had wiped in order to effacethe marks he had made in the thick dust. We must admit that it wassufficient to turn the head of a boy at that age. It was all so easy. Hehad simply to desire the thing, and reach out his hand to get it. "

"And he reached out his hand. "

"Both hands, " replied the chevalier, laughing. 

His companions received a shock. What mystery surrounded the life ofthe so-called Floriani? How wonderful must have been the life of thatadventurer, a thief at six years of age, and who, to-day, in search ofexcitement or, at most, to gratify a feeling of resentment, had come tobrave his victim in her own house, audaciously, foolishly, and yet withall the grace and delicacy of a courteous guest!

He arose and approached the countess to bid her adieu. She recoiled, unconsciously. He smiled. 

"Oh! Madame, you are afraid of me! Did I pursue my role ofparlor-magician a step too far?"

She controlled herself, and replied, with her accustomed ease:

"Not at all, monsieur. The legend of that dutiful son interested me verymuch, and I am pleased to know that my necklace had such a brilliantdestiny. But do you not think that the son of that woman, thatHenriette, was the victim of hereditary influence in the choice of hisvocation?"

He shuddered, feeling the point, and replied:

"I am sure of it; and, moreover, his natural tendency to crime must havebeen very strong or he would have been discouraged. "

"Why so?"

"Because, as you must know, the majority of the diamonds were false. Theonly genuine stones were the few purchased from the English jeweler, theothers having been sold, one by one, to meet the cruel necessities oflife. "

"It was still the Queen's Necklace, monsieur, " replied the countess, haughtily, "and that is something that he, Henriette's son, could notappreciate. "

"He was able to appreciate, madame, that, whether true or false, the necklace was nothing more that an object of parade, an emblem ofsenseless pride. "

The count made a threatening gesture, but his wife stopped him. 

"Monsieur, " she said, "if the man to whom you allude has the slightestsense of honor---"

She stopped, intimidated by Floriani's cool manner. 

"If that man has the slightest sense of honor, " he repeated. 

She felt that she would not gain anything by speaking to him in thatmanner, and in spite of her anger and indignation, trembling as she wasfrom humiliated pride, she said to him, almost politely:

"Monsieur, the legend says that Rétaux de Villette, when in possessionof the Queen's Necklace, did not disfigure the mounting. He understoodthat the diamonds were simply the ornament, the accessory, and thatthe mounting was the essential work, the creation of the artist, andhe respected it accordingly. Do you think that this man had the samefeeling?"

"I have no doubt that the mounting still exists. The child respectedit. "

"Well, monsieur, if you should happen to meet him, will you tell himthat he unjustly keeps possession of a relic that is the property andpride of a certain family, and that, although the stones havebeen removed, the Queen's necklace still belongs to the house ofDreux-Soubise. It belongs to us as much as our name or our honor. "

The chevalier replied, simply:

"I shall tell him, madame. "

He bowed to her, saluted the count and the other guests, and departed. 

* * * * *

Four days later, the countess de Dreux found upon the table in herchamber a red leather case bearing the cardinal's arms. She opened it, and found the Queen's Necklace. 

But as all things must, in the life of a man who strives for unity andlogic, converge toward the same goal--and as a little advertising neverdoes any harm--on the following day, the `Echo de France' publishedthese sensational lines:

"The Queen's Necklace, the famous historical jewelry stolen fromthe family of Dreux-Soubise, has been recovered by Arsène Lupin, whohastened to restore it to its rightful owner. We cannot too highlycommend such a delicate and chivalrous act. "

VI. The Seven of Hearts

I am frequently asked this question: "How did you make the acquaintanceof Arsène Lupin?"

My connection with Arsène Lupin was well known. The details that Igather concerning that mysterious man, the irrefutable facts that Ipresent, the new evidence that I produce, the interpretation that Iplace on certain acts of which the public has seen only the exteriormanifestations without being able to discover the secret reasons orthe invisible mechanism, all establish, if not an intimacy, at leastamicable relations and regular confidences. 

But how did I make his acquaintance? Why was I selected to be hishistoriographer? Why I, and not some one else?

The answer is simple: chance alone presided over my choice; my merit wasnot considered. It was chance that put me in his way. It was by chancethat I was participant in one of his strangest and most mysteriousadventures; and by chance that I was an actor in a drama of which he wasthe marvelous stage director; an obscure and intricate drama, bristlingwith such thrilling events that I feel a certain embarrassment inundertaking to describe it. 

The first act takes place during that memorable night of 22 June, ofwhich so much has already been said. And, for my part, I attribute theanomalous conduct of which I was guilty on that occasion to the unusualframe of mind in which I found myself on my return home. I had dinedwith some friends at the Cascade restaurant, and, the entire evening, whilst we smoked and the orchestra played melancholy waltzes, we talkedonly of crimes and thefts, and dark and frightful intrigues. That isalways a poor overture to a night's sleep. 

The Saint-Martins went away in an automobile. Jean Daspry--thatdelightful, heedless Daspry who, six months later, was killed in such atragic manner on the frontier of Morocco--Jean Daspry and I returnedon foot through the dark, warm night. When we arrived in front ofthe little house in which I had lived for a year at Neuilly, on theboulevard Maillot, he said to me:

"Are you afraid?"

"What an idea!"

"But this house is so isolated. .. . No neighbors. .. . Vacant lots. .. . Really, I am not a coward, and yet---"

"Well, you are very cheering, I must say. "

"Oh! I say that as I would say anything else. The Saint-Martins haveimpressed me with their stories of brigands and thieves. "

We shook hands and said good-night. I took out my key and opened thedoor. 

"Well, that is good, " I murmured, "Antoine has forgotten to light acandle. "

Then I recalled the fact that Antoine was away; I had given him ashort leave of absence. Forthwith, I was disagreeably oppressed by thedarkness and silence of the night. I ascended the stairs on tiptoe, and reached my room as quickly as possible; then, contrary to my usualhabit, I turned the key and pushed the bolt. 

The light of my candle restored my courage. Yet I was careful to take myrevolver from its case--a large, powerful weapon--and place it besidemy bed. That precaution completed my reassurance. I laid down and, asusual, took a book from my night-table to read myself to sleep. Then Ireceived a great surprise. Instead of the paper-knife with which I hadmarked my place on the preceding, I found an envelope, closed withfive seals of red wax. I seized it eagerly. It was addressed to me, andmarked: "Urgent. "

A letter! A letter addressed to me! Who could have put it in that place?Nervously, I tore open the envelope, and read:

"From the moment you open this letter, whatever happens, whatever youmay hear, do not move, do not utter one cry. Otherwise you are doomed. "

I am not a coward, and, quite as well as another, I can face realdanger, or smile at the visionary perils of imagination. But, let merepeat, I was in an anomalous condition of mind, with my nerves set onedge by the events of the evening. Besides, was there not, in my presentsituation, something startling and mysterious, calculated to disturb themost courageous spirit?

My feverish fingers clutched the sheet of paper, and I read and re-readthose threatening words: "Do not move, do not utter one cry. Otherwise, you are doomed. "

"Nonsense!" I thought. "It is a joke; the work of some cheerful idiot. "

I was about to laugh--a good loud laugh. Who prevented me? What hauntingfear compressed my throat?

At least, I would blow out the candle. No, I could not do it. "Do notmove, or you are doomed, " were the words he had written. 

These auto-suggestions are frequently more imperious than the mostpositive realities; but why should I struggle against them? I had simplyto close my eyes. I did so. 

At that moment, I heard a slight noise, followed by crackling sounds, proceeding from a large room used by me as a library. A small room orantechamber was situated between the library and my bedchamber. 

The approach of an actual danger greatly excited me, and I felt a desireto get up, seize my revolver, and rush into the library. I did not rise;I saw one of the curtains of the left window move. There was no doubtabout it: the curtain had moved. It was still moving. And I saw--oh! Isaw quite distinctly--in the narrow space between the curtains and thewindow, a human form; a bulky mass that prevented the curtains fromhanging straight. And it is equally certain that the man saw me throughthe large meshes of the curtain. Then, I understood the situation. His mission was to guard me while the others carried away their booty. Should I rise and seize my revolver? Impossible! He was there! At theleast movement, at the least cry, I was doomed. 

Then came a terrific noise that shook the house; this was followedby lighter sounds, two or three together, like those of a hammer thatrebounded. At least, that was the impression formed in my confusedbrain. These were mingled with other sounds, thus creating a veritableuproar which proved that the intruders were not only bold, but feltthemselves secure from interruption. 

They were right. I did not move. Was it cowardice? No, rather weakness, a total inability to move any portion of my body, combined withdiscretion; for why should I struggle? Behind that man, there were tenothers who would come to his assistance. Should I risk my life to save afew tapestries and bibelots?

Throughout the night, my torture endured. Insufferable torture, terribleanguish! The noises had stopped, but I was in constant fear of theirrenewal. And the man! The man who was guarding me, weapon in hand. Myfearful eyes remained cast in his direction. And my heart beat! And aprofuse perspiration oozed from every pore of my body!

Suddenly, I experienced an immense relief; a milk-wagon, whose sound wasfamiliar to me, passed along the boulevard; and, at the same time, I hadan impression that the light of a new day was trying to steal throughthe closed window-blinds. 

At last, daylight penetrated the room; other vehicles passed along theboulevard; and all the phantoms of the night vanished. Then I put onearm out of the bed, slowly and cautiously. My eyes were fixed upon thecurtain, locating the exact spot at which I must fire; I made an exactcalculation of the movements I must make; then, quickly, I seized myrevolver and fired. 

I leaped from my bed with a cry of deliverance, and rushed to thewindow. The bullet had passed through the curtain and the window-glass, but it had not touched the man--for the very good reason that there wasnone there. Nobody! Thus, during the entire night, I had beenhypnotized by a fold of the curtain. And, during that time, themalefactors. .. . Furiously, with an enthusiasm that nothing could havestopped, I turned the key, opened the door, crossed the antechamber, opened another door, and rushed into the library. But amazement stoppedme on the threshold, panting, astounded, more astonished than I hadbeen by the absence of the man. All the things that I supposed had beenstolen, furniture, books, pictures, old tapestries, everything was inits proper place. 

It was incredible. I could not believe my eyes. Notwithstanding thatuproar, those noises of removal. .. . I made a tour, I inspected the walls, I made a mental inventory of all the familiar objects. Nothing wasmissing. And, what was more disconcerting, there was no clue to theintruders, not a sign, not a chair disturbed, not the trace of afootstep. 

"Well! Well!" I said to myself, pressing my hands on my bewildered head, "surely I am not crazy! I hear something!"

Inch by inch, I made a careful examination of the room. It was in vain. Unless I could consider this as a discovery: Under a small Persian rug, I found a card--an ordinary playing card. It was the seven of hearts;it was like any other seven of hearts in French playing-cards, with thisslight but curious exception: The extreme point of each of the seven redspots or hearts was pierced by a hole, round and regular as if made withthe point of an awl. 

Nothing more. A card and a letter found in a book. But was not thatsufficient to affirm that I had not been the plaything of a dream?

* * * * *

Throughout the day, I continued my searches in the library. It was alarge room, much too large for the requirements of such a house, and thedecoration of which attested the bizarre taste of its founder. Thefloor was a mosaic of multicolored stones, formed into large symmetricaldesigns. The walls were covered with a similar mosaic, arranged inpanels, Pompeiian allegories, Byzantine compositions, frescoes of theMiddle Ages. A Bacchus bestriding a cask. An emperor wearing a goldcrown, a flowing beard, and holding a sword in his right hand. 

Quite high, after the style of an artist's studio, there was a largewindow--the only one in the room. That window being always open atnight, it was probable that the men had entered through it, by the aidof a ladder. But, again, there was no evidence. The bottom of the ladderwould have left some marks in the soft earth beneath the window; butthere were none. Nor were there any traces of footsteps in any part ofthe yard. 

I had no idea of informing the police, because the facts I had before mewere so absurd and inconsistent. They would laugh at me. However, as Iwas then a reporter on the staff of the `Gil Blas, ' I wrote a lengthyaccount of my adventure and it was published in the paper on the secondday thereafter. The article attracted some attention, but no one took itseriously. They regarded it as a work of fiction rather than a storyof real life. The Saint-Martins rallied me. But Daspry, who took aninterest in such matters, came to see me, made a study of the affair, but reached no conclusion. 

A few mornings later, the door-bell rang, and Antoine came to informme that a gentleman desired to see me. He would not give his name. Idirected Antoine to show him up. He was a man of about forty years ofage with a very dark complexion, lively features, and whose correctdress, slightly frayed, proclaimed a taste that contrasted strangelywith his rather vulgar manners. Without any preamble, he said to me--ina rough voice that confirmed my suspicion as to his social position:

"Monsieur, whilst in a café, I picked up a copy of the `Gil Blas, ' andread your article. It interested me very much. 

"Thank you. "

"And here I am. "

"Ah!"

"Yes, to talk to you. Are all the facts related by you quite correct?"

"Absolutely so. "

"Well, in that case, I can, perhaps, give you some information. "

"Very well; proceed. "

"No, not yet. First, I must be sure that the facts are exactly as youhave related them. "

"I have given you my word. What further proof do you want?"

"I must remain alone in this room. "

"I do not understand, " I said, with surprise. 

"It's an idea that occurred to me when reading your article. Certaindetails established an extraordinary coincidence with another case thatcame under my notice. If I am mistaken, I shall say nothing more. Andthe only means of ascertaining the truth is by my remaining in the roomalone. "

What was at the bottom of this proposition? Later, I recalled that theman was exceedingly nervous; but, at the same time, although somewhatastonished, I found nothing particularly abnormal about the man or therequest he had made. Moreover, my curiosity was aroused; so I replied:

"Very well. How much time do you require?"

"Oh! three minutes--not longer. Three minutes from now, I will rejoinyou. "

I left the room, and went downstairs. I took out my watch. One minutepassed. Two minutes. Why did I feel so depressed? Why did those momentsseem so solemn and weird? Two minutes and a half. .. . Two minutes andthree quarters. Then I heard a pistol shot. 

I bounded up the stairs and entered the room. A cry of horror escapedme. In the middle of the room, the man was lying on his left side, motionless. Blood was flowing from a wound in his forehead. Near hishand was a revolver, still smoking. 

But, in addition to this frightful spectacle, my attention was attractedby another object. At two feet from the body, upon the floor, I sawa playing-card. It was the seven of hearts. I picked it up. The lowerextremity of each of the seven spots was pierced with a small roundhole. 

* * * * *

A half-hour later, the commissary of police arrived, then the coronerand the chief of the Sûreté, Mon. Dudouis. I had been careful not totouch the corpse. The preliminary inquiry was very brief, and disclosednothing. There were no papers in the pockets of the deceased; no nameupon his clothes; no initial upon his linen; nothing to give any clueto his identity. The room was in the same perfect order as before. Thefurniture had not been disturbed. Yet this man had not come to my housesolely for the purpose of killing himself, or because he considered myplace the most convenient one for his suicide! There must have been amotive for his act of despair, and that motive was, no doubt, the resultof some new fact ascertained by him during the three minutes he wasalone. 

What was that fact? What had he seen? What frightful secret had beenrevealed to him? There was no answer to these questions. But, at thelast moment, an incident occurred that appeared to us of considerableimportance. As two policemen were raising the body to place it on astretcher, the left hand thus being disturbed, a crumpled card fell fromit. The card bore these words: "Georges Andermatt, 37 Rue de Berry. "

What did that mean? Georges Andermatt was a rich banker in Paris, thefounder and president of the Metal Exchange which had given such animpulse to the metallic industries in France. He lived in princelystyle; was the possessor of numerous automobiles, coaches, and anexpensive racing-stable. His social affairs were very select, and MadameAndermatt was noted for her grace and beauty. 

"Can that be the man's name?" I asked. ---------------

The chief of the Sûreté leaned over him. 

"It is not he. Mon. Andermatt is a thin man, and slightly grey. "

"But why this card?"

"Have you a telephone, monsieur?"

"Yes, in the vestibule. Come with me. "

He looked in the directory, and then asked for number 415. 21. 

"Is Mon. Andermatt at home?. .. . Please tell him that Mon. Dudouis wishedhim to come at once to 102 Boulevard Maillot. Very important. "

Twenty minutes later, Mon. Andermatt arrived in his automobile. Afterthe circumstances had been explained to him, he was taken in to see thecorpse. He displayed considerable emotion, and spoke, in a low tone, andapparently unwillingly:

"Etienne Varin, " he said. 

"You know him?"

"No. .. . Or, at least, yes. .. . By sight only. His brother. .. . "

"Ah! he has a brother?"

"Yes, Alfred Varin. He came to see me once on some matter ofbusiness. .. . I forget what it was. "

"Where does he live?"

"The two brothers live together--rue de Provence, I think. "

"Do you know any reason why he should commit suicide?"

"None. "

"He held a card in his hand. It was your card with your address. "

"I do not understand that. It must have been there by some chance thatwill be disclosed by the investigation. "

A very strange chance, I thought; and I felt that the others entertainedthe same impression. 

I discovered the same impression in the papers next day, and amongstall my friends with whom I discussed the affair. Amid the mysteries thatenveloped it, after the double discovery of the seven of hearts piercedwith seven holes, after the two inscrutable events that had happened inmy house, that visiting card promised to throw some light on theaffair. Through it, the truth may be revealed. But, contrary to ourexpectations, Mon. Andermatt furnished no explanation. He said:

"I have told you all I know. What more can I do? I am greatly surprisedthat my card should be found in such a place, and I sincerely hope thepoint will be cleared up. "

It was not. The official investigation established that the Varinbrothers were of Swiss origin, had led a shifting life under variousnames, frequenting gambling resorts, associating with a band offoreigners who had been dispersed by the police after a series ofrobberies in which their participation was established only by theirflight. At number 24 rue de Provence, where the Varin brothers had livedsix years before, no one knew what had become of them. 

I confess that, for my part, the case seemed to me so complicated and somysterious that I did not think the problem would ever be solved, soI concluded to waste no more time upon it. But Jean Daspry, whom Ifrequently met at that period, became more and more interested in iteach day. It was he who pointed out to me that item from a foreignnewspaper which was reproduced and commented upon by the entire press. It was as follows:

"The first trial of a new model of submarine boat, which is expectedto revolutionize naval warfare, will be given in presence of the formerEmperor at a place that will be kept secret until the last minute. Anindiscretion has revealed its name; it is called `The Seven-of-Hearts. '"

The Seven-of-Hearts! That presented a new problem. Could a connection beestablished between the name of the sub-marine and the incidents whichwe have related? But a connection of what nature? What had happened herecould have no possible relation with the sub-marine. 

"What do you know about it?" said Daspry to me. "The most diverseeffects often proceed from the same cause. "

Two days later, the following foreign news item was received andpublished:

"It is said that the plans of the new sub-marine `Seven-of-Hearts' wereprepared by French engineers, who, having sought, in vain, the supportof their compatriots, subsequently entered into negotiations with theBritish Admiralty, without success. "

I do not wish to give undue publicity to certain delicate matters whichonce provoked considerable excitement. Yet, since all danger of injurytherefrom has now come to an end, I must speak of the article thatappeared in the `Echo de France, ' which aroused so much comment atthat time, and which threw considerable light upon the mystery ofthe Seven-of-Hearts. This is the article as it was published over thesignature of Salvator:

 "THE AFFAIR OF THE SEVEN-OF-HEARTS. 

 "A CORNER OF THE VEIL RAISED. 

 "We will be brief. Ten years ago, a young mining engineer, Louis Lacombe, wishing to devote his time and fortune to certain studies, resigned his position he then held, and rented number 102 boulevard Maillot, a small house that had been recently built and decorated for an Italian count. Through the agency of the Varin brothers of Lausanne, one of whom assisted in the preliminary experiments and the other acted as financial agent, the young engineer was introduced to Georges Andermatt, the founder of the Metal Exchange. 

 "After several interviews, he succeeded in interesting the banker in a sub-marine boat on which he was working, and it was agreed that as soon as the invention was perfected, Mon. Andermatt would use his influence with the Minister of Marine to obtain a series of trials under the direction of the government. For two years, Louis Lacombe was a frequent visitor at Andermatt's house, and he submitted to the banker the various improvements he made upon his original plans, until one day, being satisfied with the perfection of his work, he asked Mon. Andermatt to communicate with the Minister of Marine. That day, Louis Lacombe dined at Mon. Andermatt's house. He left there about half-past eleven at night. He has not been seen since. 

 "A perusal of the newspapers of that date will show that the young man's family caused every possible inquiry to be made, but without success; and it was the general opinion that Louis Lacombe-- who was known as an original and visionary youth--had quietly left for parts unknown. 

 "Let us accept that theory--improbable, though it be, --and let us consider another question, which is a most important one for our country: What has become of the plans of the sub-marine? Did Louis Lacombe carry them away? Are they destroyed?

 "After making a thorough investigation, we are able to assert, positively, that the plans are in existence, and are now in the possession of the two brothers Varin. How did they acquire such a possession? That is a question not yet determined; nor do we know why they have not tried to sell them at an earlier date. Did they fear that their title to them would be called in question? If so, they have lost that fear, and we can announce definitely, that the plans of Louis Lacombe are now the property of foreign power, and we are in a position to publish the correspondence that passed between the Varin brothers and the representative of that power. The `Seven-of-Hearts' invented by Louis Lacombe has been actually constructed by our neighbor. 

 "Will the invention fulfill the optimistic expectations of those who were concerned in that treacherous act?"

And a post-script adds:

 "Later. --Our special correspondent informs us that the preliminary trial of the `Seven-of-Hearts' has not been satisfactory. It is quite likely that the plans sold and delivered by the Varin brothers did not include the final document carried by Louis Lacombe to Mon. Andermatt on the day of his disappearance, a document that was indispensable to a thorough understanding of the invention. It contained a summary of the final conclusions of the inventor, and estimates and figures not contained in the other papers. Without this document, the plans are incomplete; on the other hand, without the plans, the document is worthless. 

 "Now is the time to act and recover what belongs to us. It may be a difficult matter, but we rely upon the assistance of Mon. Andermatt. It will be to his interest to explain his conduct which has hitherto been so strange and inscrutable. He will explain not only why he concealed these facts at the time of the suicide of Etienne Varin, but also why he has never revealed the disappearance of the paper--a fact well known to him. He will tell why, during the last six years, he paid spies to watch the movements of the Varin brothers. We expect from him, not only words, but acts. And at once. Otherwise---"

The threat was plainly expressed. But of what did it consist? What whipwas Salvator, the anonymous writer of the article, holding over the headof Mon. Andermatt?

An army of reporters attacked the banker, and ten interviewers announcedthe scornful manner in which they were treated. Thereupon, the `Echo deFrance' announced its position in these words:

"Whether Mon. Andermatt is willing or not, he will be, henceforth, ourcollaborator in the work we have undertaken. "

* * * * *

Daspry and I were dining together on the day on which that announcementappeared. That evening, with the newspapers spread over my table, wediscussed the affair and examined it from every point of view with thatexasperation that a person feels when walking in the dark and findinghimself constantly falling over the same obstacles. Suddenly, withoutany warning whatsoever, the door opened and a lady entered. Her face washidden behind a thick veil. I rose at once and approached her. 

"Is it you, monsieur, who lives here?" she asked. 

"Yes, madame, but I do not understand---"

"The gate was not locked, " she explained. 

"But the vestibule door?"

She did not reply, and it occurred to me that she had used the servants'entrance. How did she know the way? Then there was a silence that wasquite embarrassing. She looked at Daspry, and I was obliged to introducehim. I asked her to be seated and explain the object of her visit. Sheraised her veil, and I saw that she was a brunette with regular featuresand, though not handsome, she was attractive--principally, on account ofher sad, dark eyes. 

"I am Madame Andermatt, " she said. 

"Madame Andermatt!" I repeated, with astonishment. 

After a brief pause, she continued with a voice and manner that werequite easy and natural:

"I have come to see you about that affair--you know. I thought I mightbe able to obtain some information---"

"Mon Dieu, madame, I know nothing but what has already appeared in thepapers. But if you will point out in what way I can help you. .. . "

"I do not know. .. . I do not know. "

Not until then did I suspect that her calm demeanor was assumed, andthat some poignant grief was concealed beneath that air of tranquility. For a moment, we were silent and embarrassed. Then Daspry steppedforward, and said:

"Will you permit me to ask you a few questions?"

"Yes, yes, " she cried. "I will answer. "

"You will answer. .. . Whatever those questions may be?"

"Yes. "

"Did you know Louis Lacombe?" he asked. 

"Yes, through my husband. "

"When did you see him for the last time?"

"The evening he dined with us. "

"At that time, was there anything to lead you to believe that you wouldnever see him again?"

"No. But he had spoken of a trip to Russia--in a vague way. "

"Then you expected to see him again?"

"Yes. He was to dine with us, two days later. "

"How do you explain his disappearance?"

"I cannot explain it. "

"And Mon. Andermatt?"

"I do not know. "

"Yet the article published in the `Echo de France' indicates---"

"Yes, that the Varin brothers had something to do with hisdisappearance. "

"Is that your opinion?"

"Yes. "

"On what do you base your opinion?"

"When he left our house, Louis Lacombe carried a satchel containing allthe papers relating to his invention. Two days later, my husband, ina conversation with one of the Varin brothers, learned that the paperswere in their possession. "

"And he did not denounce them?"

"No. "

"Why not?"

"Because there was something else in the satchel--something besides thepapers of Louis Lacombe. "

"What was it?"

She hesitated; was on the point of speaking, but, finally, remainedsilent. Daspry continued:

"I presume that is why your husband has kept a close watch over theirmovements instead of informing the police. He hoped to recover thepapers and, at the same time, that compromising article which hasenabled the two brothers to hold over him threats of exposure andblackmail. "

"Over him, and over me. "

"Ah! over you, also?"

"Over me, in particular. "

She uttered the last words in a hollow voice. Daspry observed it; hepaced to and fro for a moment, then, turning to her, asked:

"Had you written to Louis Lacombe?"

"Of course. My husband had business with him--"

"Apart from those business letters, had you written to LouisLacombe. .. . Other letters? Excuse my insistence, but it is absolutelynecessary that I should know the truth. Did you write other letters?"

"Yes, " she replied, blushing. 

"And those letters came into the possession of the Varin brothers?"

"Yes. "

"Does Mon. Andermatt know it?"

"He has not seen them, but Alfred Varin has told him of their existenceand threatened to publish them if my husband should take any stepsagainst him. My husband was afraid. .. . Of a scandal. "

"But he has tried to recover the letters?"

"I think so; but I do not know. You see, after that last interview withAlfred Varin, and after some harsh words between me and my husband inwhich he called me to account--we live as strangers. "

"In that case, as you have nothing to lose, what do you fear?"

"I may be indifferent to him now, but I am the woman that he has loved, the one he would still love--oh! I am quite sure of that, " she murmured, in a fervent voice, "he would still love me if he had not got hold ofthose cursed letters----"

"What! Did he succeed?. .. . But the two brothers still defied him?"

"Yes, and they boasted of having a secure hiding-place. "

"Well?"

"I believe my husband discovered that hiding-place. "

"Well?"

"I believe my husband has discovered that hiding-place. "

"Ah! where was it?"

"Here. "

"Here!" I cried in alarm. 

"Yes. I always had that suspicion. Louis Lacombe was very ingeniousand amused himself in his leisure hours, by making safes and locks. Nodoubt, the Varin brothers were aware of that fact and utilized one ofLacombe's safes in which to conceal the letters. .. . And other things, perhaps. "

"But they did not live here, " I said. 

"Before you came, four months ago, the house had been vacant for sometime. And they may have thought that your presence here would notinterfere with them when they wanted to get the papers. But they did notcount on my husband, who came here on the night of 22 June, forced thesafe, took what he was seeking, and left his card to inform the twobrothers that he feared them no more, and that their positions were nowreversed. Two days later, after reading the article in the `Gil Blas, 'Etienne Varin came here, remained alone in this room, found the safeempty, and. .. . Killed himself. "

After a moment, Daspry said:

"A very simple theory. .. . Has Mon. Andermatt spoken to you since then?"

"No. "

"Has his attitude toward you changed in any way? Does he appear moregloomy, more anxious?"

"No, I haven't noticed any change. "

"And yet you think he has secured the letters. Now, in my opinion, hehas not got those letters, and it was not he who came here on the nightof 22 June. "

"Who was it, then?"

"The mysterious individual who is managing this affair, who holds allthe threads in his hands, and whose invisible but far-reaching power wehave felt from the beginning. It was he and his friends who enteredthis house on 22 June; it was he who discovered the hiding-place of thepapers; it was he who left Mon. Andermatt's card; it is he who nowholds the correspondence and the evidence of the treachery of the Varinbrothers. "

"Who is he?" I asked, impatiently. 

"The man who writes letters to the `Echo de France'. .. . Salvator! Havewe not convincing evidence of that fact? Does he not mention in hisletters certain details that no one could know, except the man who hadthus discovered the secrets of the two brothers?"

"Well, then, " stammered Madame Andermatt, in great alarm, "he has myletters also, and it is he who now threatens my husband. Mon Dieu! Whatam I to do?"

"Write to him, " declared Daspry. "Confide in him without reserve. Tellhim all you know and all you may hereafter learn. Your interest and hisinterest are the same. He is not working against Mon. Andermatt, butagainst Alfred Varin. Help him. "

"How?"

"Has your husband the document that completes the plans of LouisLacombe?"

"Yes. "

"Tell that to Salvator, and, if possible, procure the document for him. Write to him at once. You risk nothing. "

The advice was bold, dangerous even at first sight, but Madame Andermatthad no choice. Besides, as Daspry had said, she ran no risk. Ifthe unknown writer were an enemy, that step would not aggravate thesituation. If he were a stranger seeking to accomplish a particularpurpose, he would attach to those letters only a secondary importance. Whatever might happen, it was the only solution offered to her, andshe, in her anxiety, was only too glad to act on it. She thanked useffusively, and promised to keep us informed. 

In fact, two days later, she sent us the following letter that she hadreceived from Salvator:

"Have not found the letters, but I will get them. Rest easy. I amwatching everything. S. "

I looked at the letter. It was in the same handwriting as the note Ifound in my book on the night of 22 June. 

Daspry was right. Salvator was, indeed, the originator of that affair. 

* * * * *

We were beginning to see a little light coming out of the darkness thatsurrounded us, and an unexpected light was thrown on certain points; butother points yet remained obscure--for instance, the finding of the twoseven-of-hearts. Perhaps I was unnecessarily concerned about thosetwo cards whose seven punctured spots had appeared to me under suchstartling circumstances! Yet I could not refrain from asking myself:What role will they play in the drama? What importance do theybear? What conclusion must be drawn from the fact that the submarineconstructed from the plans of Louis Lacombe bore the name of`Seven-of-Hearts'?

Daspry gave little thought to the other two cards; he devoted all hisattention to another problem which he considered more urgent; he wasseeking the famous hiding-place. 

"And who knows, " said he, "I may find the letters that Salvator did notfind--by inadvertence, perhaps. It is improbable that the Varin brotherswould have removed from a spot, which they deemed inaccessible, theweapon which was so valuable to them. "

And he continued to search. In a short time, the large room held no moresecrets for him, so he extended his investigations to the other rooms. He examined the interior and the exterior, the stones of the foundation, the bricks in the walls; he raised the slates of the roof. 

One day, he came with a pickaxe and a spade, gave me the spade, kept thepickaxe, pointed to the adjacent vacant lots, and said: "Come. "

I followed him, but I lacked his enthusiasm. He divided the vacant landinto several sections which he examined in turn. At last, in a corner, at the angle formed by the walls of two neighboring proprietors, a smallpile of earth and gravel, covered with briers and grass, attracted hisattention. He attacked it. I was obliged to help him. For an hour, undera hot sun, we labored without success. I was discouraged, but Daspryurged me on. His ardor was as strong as ever. 

At last, Daspry's pickaxe unearthed some bones--the remains of askeleton to which some scraps of clothing still hung. Suddenly, I turnedpale. I had discovered, sticking in the earth, a small piece of iron cutin the form of a rectangle, on which I thought I could see red spots. Istooped and picked it up. That little iron plate was the exact size of aplaying-card, and the red spots, made with red lead, were arranged uponit in a manner similar to the seven-of-hearts, and each spot was piercedwith a round hole similar to the perforations in the two playing cards. 

"Listen, Daspry, I have had enough of this. You can stay if it interestsyou. But I am going. "

Was that simply the expression of my excited nerves? Or was it theresult of a laborious task executed under a burning sun? I know thatI trembled as I walked away, and that I went to bed, where I remainedforty-eight hours, restless and feverish, haunted by skeletons thatdanced around me and threw their bleeding hearts at my head. 

Daspry was faithful to me. He came to my house every day, and remainedthree or four hours, which he spent in the large room, ferreting, thumping, tapping. 

"The letters are here, in this room, " he said, from time to time, "theyare here. I will stake my life on it. "

On the morning of the third day I arose--feeble yet, but cured. Asubstantial breakfast cheered me up. But a letter that I received thatafternoon contributed, more than anything else, to my complete recovery, and aroused in me a lively curiosity. This was the letter:

 "Monsieur, "The drama, the first act of which transpired on the night of 22 June, is now drawing to a close. Force of circumstances compel me to bring the two principal actors in that drama face to face, and I wish that meeting to take place in your house, if you will be so kind as to give me the use of it for this evening from nine o'clock to eleven. It will be advisable to give your servant leave of absence for the evening, and, perhaps, you will be so kind as to leave the field open to the two adversaries. You will remember that when I visited your house on the night of 22 June, I took excellent care of your property. I feel that I would do you an injustice if I should doubt, for one moment, your absolute discretion in this affair. Your devoted, "SALVATOR. "

I was amused at the facetious tone of his letter and also at thewhimsical nature of his request. There was a charming display ofconfidence and candor in his language, and nothing in the world couldhave induced me to deceive him or repay his confidence with ingratitude. 

I gave my servant a theatre ticket, and he left the house at eighto'clock. A few minutes later, Daspry arrived. I showed him the letter. 

"Well?" said he. 

"Well, I have left the garden gate unlocked, so anyone can enter. "

"And you--are you going away?"

"Not at all. I intend to stay right here. "

"But he asks you to go---"

"But I am not going. I will be discreet, but I am resolved to see whattakes place. "

"Ma foi!" exclaimed Daspry, laughing, "you are right, and I shall staywith you. I shouldn't like to miss it. "

We were interrupted by the sound of the door-bell. 

"Here already?" said Daspry, "twenty minutes ahead of time! Incredible!"

I went to the door and ushered in the visitor. It was Madame Andermatt. She was faint and nervous, and in a stammering voice, she ejaculated:

"My husband. .. . Is coming. .. . He has an appointment. .. . They intend togive him the letters. .. . "

"How do you know?" I asked. 

"By chance. A message came for my husband while we were at dinner. Theservant gave it to me by mistake. My husband grabbed it quickly, but hewas too late. I had read it. "

"You read it?"

"Yes. It was something like this: `At nine o'clock this evening, beat Boulevard Maillot with the papers connected with the affair. Inexchange, the letters. ' So, after dinner, I hastened here. "

"Unknown to your husband?"

"Yes. "

"What do you think about it?" asked Daspry, turning to me. 

"I think as you do, that Mon. Andermatt is one of the invited guests. "

"Yes, but for what purpose?"

"That is what we are going to find out. "

I led the men to a large room. The three of us could hide comfortablybehind the velvet chimney-mantle, and observe all that should happenin the room. We seated ourselves there, with Madame Andermatt in thecentre. 

The clock struck nine. A few minutes later, the garden gate creaked uponits hinges. I confess that I was greatly agitated. I was about to learnthe key to the mystery. The startling events of the last few weeks wereabout to be explained, and, under my eyes, the last battle was going tobe fought. Daspry seized the hand of Madame Andermatt, and said to her:

"Not a word, not a movement! Whatever you may see or hear, keep quiet!"

Some one entered. It was Alfred Varin. I recognized him at once, owingto the close resemblance he bore to his brother Etienne. There wasthe same slouching gait; the same cadaverous face covered with a blackbeard. 

He entered with the nervous air of a man who is accustomed to fear thepresence of traps and ambushes; who scents and avoids them. He glancedabout the room, and I had the impression that the chimney, masked witha velvet portiere, did not please him. He took three steps in ourdirection, when something caused him to turn and walk toward the oldmosaic king, with the flowing beard and flamboyant sword, which heexamined minutely, mounting on a chair and following with his fingersthe outlines of the shoulders and head and feeling certain parts of theface. Suddenly, he leaped from the chair and walked away from it. He hadheard the sound of approaching footsteps. Mon. Andermatt appeared at thedoor. 

"You! You!" exclaimed the banker. "Was it you who brought me here?"

"I? By no means, " protested Varin, in a rough, jerky voice that remindedme of his brother, "on the contrary, it was your letter that brought mehere. "

"My letter?"

"A letter signed by you, in which you offered---"

"I never wrote to you, " declared Mon. Andermatt. 

"You did not write to me!"

Instinctively, Varin was put on his guard, not against the banker, butagainst the unknown enemy who had drawn him into this trap. A secondtime, he looked in our direction, then walked toward the door. But Mon. Andermatt barred his passage. 

"Well, where are you going, Varin?"

"There is something about this affair I don't like. I am going home. Good evening. "

"One moment!"

"No need of that, Mon. Andermatt. I have nothing to say to you. "

"But I have something to say to you, and this is a good time to say it. "

"Let me pass. "

"No, you will not pass. "

Varin recoiled before the resolute attitude of the banker, as hemuttered:

"Well, then, be quick about it. "

One thing astonished me; and I have no doubt my two companionsexperienced a similar feeling. Why was Salvator not there? Was he not anecessary party at this conference? Or was he satisfied to let these twoadversaries fight it out between themselves? At all events, his absencewas a great disappointment, although it did not detract from thedramatic strength of the situation. 

After a moment, Mon. Andermatt approached Varin and, face to face, eyeto eye, said:

"Now, after all these years and when you have nothing more to fear, youcan answer me candidly: What have you done with Louis Lacombe?"

"What a question! AS if I knew anything about him!"

"You do know! You and your brother were his constant companions, almostlived with him in this very house. You knew all about his plans and hiswork. And the last night I ever saw Louis Lacombe, when I parted withhim at my door, I saw two men slinking away in the shadows of the trees. That, I am ready to swear to. "

"Well, what has that to do with me?"

"The two men were you and your brother. "

"Prove it. "

"The best proof is that, two days later, you yourself showed me thepapers and the plans that belonged to Lacombe and offered to sell them. How did these papers come into your possession?"

"I have already told you, Mon. Andermatt, that we found them on LouisLacombe's table, the morning after his disappearance. "

"That is a lie!"

"Prove it. "

"The law will prove it. "

"Why did you not appeal to the law?"

"Why? Ah! Why---, " stammered the banker, with a slight display ofemotion. 

"You know very well, Mon. Andermatt, if you had the least certainty ofour guilt, our little threat would not have stopped you. "

"What threat? Those letters? Do you suppose I ever gave those letters amoment's thought?"

"If you did not care for the letters, why did you offer me thousands offrancs for their return? And why did you have my brother and me trackedlike wild beasts?"

"To recover the plans. "

"Nonsense! You wanted the letters. You knew that as soon as you had theletters in your possession, you could denounce us. Oh! no, I couldn'tpart with them!"

He laughed heartily, but stopped suddenly, and said:

"But, enough of this! We are merely going over old ground. We make noheadway. We had better let things stand as they are. "

"We will not let them stand as they are, " said the banker, "and sinceyou have referred to the letters, let me tell you that you will notleave this house until you deliver up those letters. "

"I shall go when I please. "

"You will not. "

"Be careful, Mon. Andermatt. I warn you---"

"I say, you shall not go. "

"We will see about that, " cried Varin, in such a rage that MadameAndermatt could not suppress a cry of fear. Varin must have heard it, for he now tried to force his way out. Mon. Andermatt pushed him back. Then I saw him put his hand into his coat pocket. 

"For the last time, let me pass, " he cried. 

"The letters, first!"

Varin drew a revolver and, pointing it at Mon. Andermatt, said:

"Yes or no?"

The banker stooped quickly. There was the sound of a pistol-shot. Theweapon fell from Varin's hand. I was amazed. The shot was fired closeto me. It was Daspry who had fired it at Varin, causing him to drop therevolver. In a moment, Daspry was standing between the two men, facingVarin; he said to him, with a sneer:

"You were lucky, my friend, very lucky. I fired at your hand and struckonly the revolver. "

Both of them looked at him, surprised. Then he turned to the banker, andsaid:

"I beg your pardon, monsieur, for meddling in your business; but, really, you play a very poor game. Let me hold the cards. "

Turning again to Varin, Daspry said:

"It's between us two, comrade, and play fair, if you please. Hearts aretrumps, and I play the seven. "

Then Daspry held up, before Varin's bewildered eyes, the little ironplate, marked with the seven red spots. It was a terrible shock toVarin. With livid features, staring eyes, and an air of intense agony, the man seemed to be hypnotized at the sight of it. 

"Who are you?" he gasped. 

"One who meddles in other people's business, down to the very bottom. "

"What do you want?"

"What you brought here tonight. "

"I brought nothing. "

"Yes, you did, or you wouldn't have come. This morning, you receivedan invitation to come here at nine o'clock, and bring with you all thepapers held by you. You are here. Where are the papers?"

There was in Daspry's voice and manner a tone of authority that I didnot understand; his manner was usually quite mild and conciliatory. Absolutely conquered, Varin placed his hand on one of his pockets, andsaid:

"The papers are here. "

"All of them?"

"Yes. "

"All that you took from Louis Lacombe and afterwards sold to Major vonLieben?"

"Yes. "

"Are these the copies or the originals?"

"I have the originals. "

"How much do you want for them?"

"One hundred thousand francs. "

"You are crazy, " said Daspry. "Why, the major gave you only twentythousand, and that was like money thrown into the sea, as the boat was afailure at the preliminary trials. "

"They didn't understand the plans. "

"The plans are not complete. "

"Then, why do you ask me for them?"

"Because I want them. I offer you five thousand francs--not a sou more. "

"Ten thousand. Not a sou less. "

"Agreed, " said Daspry, who now turned to Mon. Andermatt, and said:

"Monsieur will kindly sign a check for the amount. "

"But. .. . I haven't got---"

"Your check-book? Here it is. "

Astounded, Mon. Andermatt examined the check-book that Daspry handed tohim. 

"It is mine, " he gasped. "How does that happen?"

"No idle words, monsieur, if you please. You have merely to sign. "

The banker took out his fountain pen, filled out the check and signedit. Varin held out his hand for it. 

"Put down your hand, " said Daspry, "there is something more. " Then, tothe banker, he said: "You asked for some letters, did you not?"

"Yes, a package of letters. "

"Where are they, Varin?"

"I haven't got them. "

"Where are they, Varin?"

"I don't know. My brother had charge of them. "

"They are hidden in this room. "

"In that case, you know where they are. "

"How should I know?"

"Was it not you who found the hiding-place? You appear to be as wellinformed. .. . As Salvator. "

"The letters are not in the hiding-place. "

"They are. "

"Open it. "

Varin looked at him, defiantly. Were not Daspry and Salvator the sameperson? Everything pointed to that conclusion. If so, Varin riskednothing in disclosing a hiding-place already known. 

"Open it, " repeated Daspry. 

"I have not got the seven of hearts. "

"Yes, here it is, " said Daspry, handing him the iron plate. Varinrecoiled in terror, and cried:

"No, no, I will not. "

"Never mind, " replied Daspry, as he walked toward the bearded king, climbed on a chair and applied the seven of hearts to the lower part ofthe sword in such a manner that the edges of the iron plate coincidedexactly with the two edges of the sword. Then, with the assistance ofan awl which he introduced alternately into each of the seven holes, hepressed upon seven of the little mosaic stones. As he pressed upon theseventh one, a clicking sound was heard, and the entire bust of the Kingturned upon a pivot, disclosing a large opening lined with steel. It wasreally a fire-proof safe. 

"You can see, Varin, the safe is empty. "

"So I see. Then, my brother has taken out the letters. "

Daspry stepped down from the chair, approached Varin, and said:

"Now, no more nonsense with me. There is another hiding-place. Where isit?"

"There is none. "

"Is it money you want? How much?"

"Ten thousand. "

"Monsieur Andermatt, are those letters worth then thousand francs toyou?"

"Yes, " said the banker, firmly. 

Varin closed the safe, took the seven of hearts and placed it again onthe sword at the same spot. He thrust the awl into each of the sevenholes. There was the same clicking sound, but this time, strange torelate, it was only a portion of the safe that revolved on the pivot, disclosing quite a small safe that was built within the door of thelarger one. The packet of letters was here, tied with a tape, andsealed. Varin handed the packet to Daspry. The latter turned to thebanker, and asked:

"Is the check ready, Monsieur Andermatt?"

"Yes. "

"And you have also the last document that you received from LouisLacombe--the one that completes the plans of the sub-marine?"

"Yes. "

The exchange was made. Daspry pocketed the document and the checks, andoffered the packet of letters to Mon. Andermatt. 

"This is what you wanted, Monsieur. "

The banker hesitated a moment, as if he were afraid to touch thosecursed letters that he had sought so eagerly. Then, with a nervousmovement, he took them. Close to me, I heard a moan. I grasped MadameAndermatt's hand. It was cold. 

"I believe, monsieur, " said Daspry to the banker, "that our business isended. Oh! no thanks. It was only by a mere chance that I have been ableto do you a good turn. Good-night. "

Mon. Andermatt retired. He carried with him the letters written by hiswife to Louis Lacombe. 

"Marvelous!" exclaimed Daspry, delighted. "Everything is coming ourway. Now, we have only to close our little affair, comrade. You have thepapers?"

"Here they are--all of them. "

Daspry examined them carefully, and then placed them in his pocket. 

"Quite right. You have kept your word, " he said. 

"But---"

"But what?"

"The two checks? The money?" said Varin, eagerly. 

"Well, you have a great deal of assurance, my man. How dare you ask sucha thing?"

"I ask only what is due to me. "

"Can you ask pay for returning papers that you stole? Well, I thinknot!"

Varin was beside himself. He trembled with rage; his eyes werebloodshot. 

"The money. .. . The twenty thousand. .. . " he stammered. 

"Impossible! I need it myself. "

"The money!"

"Come, be reasonable, and don't get excited. It won't do you any good. "

Daspry seized his arm so forcibly, that Varin uttered a cry of pain. Daspry continued:

"Now, you can go. The air will do you good. Perhaps you want me to showyou the way. Ah! yes, we will go together to the vacant lot near here, and I will show you a little mound of earth and stones and under it---"

"That is false! That is false!"

"Oh! no, it is true. That little iron plate with the seven spots on itcame from there. Louis Lacombe always carried it, and you buried it withthe body--and with some other things that will prove very interesting toa judge and jury. "

Varin covered his face with his hands, and muttered:

"All right, I am beaten. Say no more. But I want to ask you onequestion. I should like to know---"

"What is it?"

"Was there a little casket in the large safe?"

"Yes. "

"Was it there on the night of 22 June?"

"Yes. "

"What did it contain?"

"Everything that the Varin brothers had put in it--a very prettycollection of diamonds and pearls picked up here and there by the saidbrothers. "

"And did you take it?"

"Of course I did. Do you blame me?"

"I understand. .. . It was the disappearance of that casket that caused mybrother to kill himself. "

"Probably. The disappearance of your correspondence was not a sufficientmotive. But the disappearance of the casket. .. . Is that all you wish toask me?"

"One thing more: your name?"

"You ask that with an idea of seeking revenge. "

"Parbleu! The tables may be turned. Today, you are on top. To-morrow---"

"It will be you. "

"I hope so. Your name?"

"Arsène Lupin. "

"Arsène Lupin!"

The man staggered, as though stunned by a heavy blow. Those two wordshad deprived him of all hope. 

Daspry laughed, and said:

"Ah! did you imagine that a Monsieur Durand or Dupont could manage anaffair like this? No, it required the skill and cunning of Arsène Lupin. And now that you have my name, go and prepare your revenge. Arsène Lupinwill wait for you. "

Then he pushed the bewildered Varin through the door. 

"Daspry! Daspry!" I cried, pushing aside the curtain. He ran to me. 

"What? What's the matter?"

"Madame Andermatt is ill. "

He hastened to her, caused her to inhale some salts, and, while caringfor her, questioned me:

"Well, what did it?"

"The letters of Louis Lacombe that you gave to her husband. "

He struck his forehead and said:

"Did she think that I could do such a thing!. .. But, of course she would. Imbecile that I am!"

Madame Andermatt was now revived. Daspry took from his pocket a smallpackage exactly similar to the one that Mon. Andermatt had carried away. 

"Here are your letters, Madame. These are the genuine letters. "

"But. .. . The others?"

"The others are the same, rewritten by me and carefully worded. Yourhusband will not find anything objectionable in them, and will neversuspect the substitution since they were taken from the safe in hispresence. "

"But the handwriting---"

"There is no handwriting that cannot be imitated. "

She thanked him in the same words she might have used to a man in herown social circle, so I concluded that she had not witnessed the finalscene between Varin and Arsène Lupin. But the surprising revelationcaused me considerable embarrassment. Lupin! My club companion was noneother than Arsène Lupin. I could not realize it. But he said, quite athis ease:

"You can say farewell to Jean Daspry. "

"Ah!"

"Yes, Jean Daspry is going on a long journey. I shall send him toMorocco. There, he may find a death worthy of him. I may say that thatis his expectation. "

"But Arsène Lupin will remain?"

"Oh! Decidedly. Arsène Lupin is simply at the threshold of his career, and he expects---"

I was impelled by curiosity to interrupt him, and, leading him away fromthe hearing of Madame Andermatt, I asked:

"Did you discover the smaller safe yourself--the one that held theletters?"

"Yes, after a great deal of trouble. I found it yesterday afternoonwhile you were asleep. And yet, God knows it was simple enough! Butthe simplest things are the ones that usually escape our notice. " Then, showing me the seven-of-hearts, he added: "Of course I had guessed that, in order to open the larger safe, this card must be placed on the swordof the mosaic king. "

"How did you guess that?"

"Quite easily. Through private information, I knew that fact when I camehere on the evening of 22 June---"

"After you left me---"

"Yes, after turning the subject of our conversation to stories of crimeand robbery which were sure to reduce you to such a nervous conditionthat you would not leave your bed, but would allow me to complete mysearch uninterrupted. "

"The scheme worked perfectly. "

"Well, I knew when I came here that there was a casket concealed in asafe with a secret lock, and that the seven-of-hearts was the keyto that lock. I had merely to place the card upon the spot that wasobviously intended for it. An hour's examination showed me where thespot was. "

"One hour!"

"Observe the fellow in mosaic. "

"The old emperor?"

"That old emperor is an exact representation of the king of hearts onall playing cards. "

"That's right. But how does the seven of hearts open the larger safe atone time and the smaller safe at another time? And why did you open onlythe larger safe in the first instance? I mean on the night of 22 June. "

"Why? Because I always placed the seven of hearts in the same way. Inever changed the position. But, yesterday, I observed that by reversingthe card, by turning it upside down, the arrangement of the seven spotson the mosaic was changed. "

"Parbleu!"

"Of course, parbleu! But a person has to think of those things. "

"There is something else: you did not know the history of those lettersuntil Madame Andermatt---"

"Spoke of them before me? No. Because I found in the safe, besidesthe casket, nothing but the correspondence of the two brothers whichdisclosed their treachery in regard to the plans. "

"Then it was by chance that you were led, first, to investigate thehistory of the two brothers, and then to search for the plans anddocuments relating to the sub-marine?"

"Simply by chance. "

"For what purpose did you make the search?"

"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Daspry, laughing, "how deeply interested you are!"

"The subject fascinates me. "

"Very well, presently, after I have escorted Madame Andermatt to acarriage, and dispatched a short story to the `Echo de France, ' I willreturn and tell you all about it. "

He sat down and wrote one of those short, clear-cut articles whichserved to amuse and mystify the public. Who does not recall thesensation that followed that article produced throughout the entireworld?

"Arsène Lupin has solved the problem recently submitted by Salvator. Having acquired possession of all the documents and original plansof the engineer Louis Lacombe, he has placed them in the hands ofthe Minister of Marine, and he has headed a subscription list for thepurpose of presenting to the nation the first submarine constructed fromthose plans. His subscription is twenty thousand francs. "

"Twenty thousand francs! The checks of Mon. Andermatt?" I exclaimed, when he had given me the paper to read. 

"Exactly. It was quite right that Varin should redeem his treachery. "

* * * * *

And that is how I made the acquaintance of Arsène Lupin. That is howI learned that Jean Daspry, a member of my club, was none other thanArsène Lupin, gentleman-thief. That is how I formed very agreeable tiesof friendship with that famous man, and, thanks to the confidencewith which he honored me, how I became his very humble and faithfulhistoriographer. 

VII. Madame Imbert's Safe

At three o'clock in the morning, there were still half a dozen carriagesin front of one of those small houses which form only the side of theboulevard Berthier. The door of that house opened, and a number ofguests, male and female, emerged. The majority of them entered theircarriages and were quickly driven away, leaving behind only two men whowalked down Courcelles, where they parted, as one of them lived in thatstreet. The other decided to return on foot as far as the Porte-Maillot. It was a beautiful winter's night, clear and cold; a night on which abrisk walk is agreeable and refreshing. 

But, at the end of a few minutes, he had the disagreeable impressionthat he was being followed. Turning around, he saw a man sulking amongstthe trees. He was not a coward; yet he felt it advisable to increase hisspeed. Then his pursuer commenced to run; and he deemed it prudent todraw his revolver and face him. But he had no time. The man rushed athim and attacked him violently. Immediately, they were engaged in adesperate struggle, wherein he felt that his unknown assailant had theadvantage. He called for help, struggled, and was thrown down on a pileof gravel, seized by the throat, and gagged with a handkerchief that hisassailant forced into his mouth. His eyes closed, and the man whowas smothering him with his weight arose to defend himself against anunexpected attack. A blow from a cane and a kick from a boot; theman uttered two cries of pain, and fled, limping and cursing. Withoutdeigning to pursue the fugitive, the new arrival stooped over theprostrate man and inquired:

"Are you hurt, monsieur?"

He was not injured, but he was dazed and unable to stand. His rescuerprocured a carriage, placed him in it, and accompanied him to his houseon the avenue de la Grande-Armée. On his arrival there, quite recovered, he overwhelmed his saviour with thanks. 

"I owe you my life, monsieur, and I shall not forget it. I do not wishto alarm my wife at this time of night, but, to-morrow, she will bepleased to thank you personally. Come and breakfast with us. My name isLudovic Imbert. May I ask yours?"

"Certainly, monsieur. "

And he handed Mon. Imbert a card bearing the name: "Arsène Lupin. "

* * * * *

At that time, Arsène Lupin did not enjoy the celebrity which the Cahornaffair, his escape from the Prison de la Santé, and other brilliantexploits, afterwards gained for him. He had not even used the name ofArsène Lupin. The name was specially invented to designate the rescuerof Mon. Imbert; that is to say, it was in that affair that ArsèneLupin was baptized. Fully armed and ready for the fray, it is true, butlacking the resources and authority which command success, Arsène Lupinwas then merely an apprentice in a profession wherein he soon became amaster. 

With what a thrill of joy he recalled the invitation he received thatnight! At last, he had reached his goal! At last, he had undertakena task worthy of his strength and skill! The Imbert millions! What amagnificent feast for an appetite like his!

He prepared a special toilet for the occasion; a shabby frock-coat, baggy trousers, a frayed silk hat, well-worn collar and cuffs, all quitecorrect in form, but bearing the unmistakable stamp of poverty. Hiscravat was a black ribbon pinned with a false diamond. Thus accoutred, he descended the stairs of the house in which he lived at Montmartre. Atthe third floor, without stopping, he rapped on a closed door with thehead of his cane. He walked to the exterior boulevards. A tram-car waspassing. He boarded it, and some one who had been following him took aseat beside him. It was the lodger who occupied the room on the thirdfloor. A moment later, this man said to Lupin:

"Well, governor?"

"Well, it is all fixed. "

"How?"

"I am going there to breakfast. "

"You breakfast--there!"

"Certainly. Why not? I rescued Mon. Ludovic Imbert from certain deathat your hands. Mon. Imbert is not devoid of gratitude. He invited me tobreakfast. "

There was a brief silence. Then the other said:

"But you are not going to throw up the scheme?"

"My dear boy, " said Lupin, "When I arranged that little case of assaultand battery, when I took the trouble at three o'clock in the morning, torap you with my cane and tap you with my boot at the risk of injuringmy only friend, it was not my intention to forego the advantages to begained from a rescue so well arranged and executed. Oh! no, not at all. "

"But the strange rumors we hear about their fortune?"

"Never mind about that. For six months, I have worked on this affair, investigated it, studied it, questioned the servants, the money-lendersand men of straw; for six months, I have shadowed the husband and wife. Consequently, I know what I am talking about. Whether the fortune cameto them from old Brawford, as they pretend, or from some other source, I do not care. I know that it is a reality; that it exists. And some dayit will be mine. "

"Bigre! One hundred millions!"

"Let us say ten, or even five--that is enough! They have a safe fullof bonds, and there will be the devil to pay if I can't get my hands onthem. "

The tram-car stopped at the Place de l'Etoile. The man whispered toLupin:

"What am I to do now?"

"Nothing, at present. You will hear from me. There is no hurry. "

Five minutes later, Arsène Lupin was ascending the magnificent flightof stairs in the Imbert mansion, and Mon. Imbert introduced him tohis wife. Madame Gervaise Imbert was a short plump woman, and verytalkative. She gave Lupin a cordial welcome. 

"I desired that we should be alone to entertain our saviour, " she said. 

From the outset, they treated "our saviour" as an old and valued friend. By the time dessert was served, their friendship was well cemented, andprivate confidences were being exchanged. Arsène related the story ofhis life, the life of his father as a magistrate, the sorrows of hischildhood, and his present difficulties. Gervaise, in turn, spoke ofher youth, her marriage, the kindness of the aged Brawford, the hundredmillions that she had inherited, the obstacles that prevented her fromobtaining the enjoyment of her inheritance, the moneys she had beenobliged to borrow at an exorbitant rate of interest, her endlesscontentions with Brawford's nephews, and the litigation! theinjunctions! in fact, everything!

"Just think of it, Monsieur Lupin, the bonds are there, in my husband'soffice, and if we detach a single coupon, we lose everything! They arethere, in our safe, and we dare not touch them. "

Monsieur Lupin shivered at the bare idea of his proximity to so muchwealth. Yet he felt quite certain that Monsieur Lupin would never sufferfrom the same difficulty as his fair hostess who declared she dare nottouch the money. 

"Ah! they are there!" he repeated, to himself; "they are there!"

A friendship formed under such circumstances soon led to closerrelations. When discreetly questioned, Arsène Lupin confessed hispoverty and distress. Immediately, the unfortunate young man wasappointed private secretary to the Imberts, husband and wife, at asalary of one hundred francs a month. He was to come to the house everyday and receive orders for his work, and a room on the second floorwas set apart as his office. This room was directly over Mon. Imbert'soffice. 

Arsène soon realized that his position as secretary was essentiallya sinecure. During the first two months, he had only four importantletters to recopy, and was called only once to Mon. Imbert's office;consequently, he had only one opportunity to contemplate, officially, the Imbert safe. Moreover, he noticed that the secretary was not invitedto the social functions of the employer. But he did not complain, as hepreferred to remain, modestly, in the shade and maintain his peace andfreedom. 

However, he was not wasting any time. From the beginning, he madeclandestine visits to Mon. Imbert's office, and paid his respects to thesafe, which was hermetically closed. It was an immense block of iron andsteel, cold and stern in appearance, which could not be forced openby the ordinary tools of the burglar's trade. But Arsène Lupin was notdiscouraged. 

"Where force fails, cunning prevails, " he said to himself. "Theessential thing is to be on the spot when the opportunity occurs. In themeantime, I must watch and wait. "

He made immediately some preliminary preparations. After carefulsoundings made upon the floor of his room, he introduced a lead pipewhich penetrated the ceiling of Mon. Imbert's office at a point betweenthe two screeds of the cornice. By means of this pipe, he hoped to seeand hear what transpired in the room below. 

Henceforth, he passed his days stretched at full length upon the floor. He frequently saw the Imberts holding a consultation in front of thesafe, investigating books and papers. When they turned the combinationlock, he tried to learn the figures and the number of turns they made tothe right and left. He watched their movements; he sought to catch theirwords. There was also a key necessary to complete the opening of thesafe. What did they do with it? Did they hide it?

One day, he saw them leave the room without locking the safe. Hedescended the stairs quickly, and boldly entered the room. But they hadreturned. 

"Oh! excuse me, " said, "I made a mistake in the door. "

"Come in, Monsieur Lupin, come in, " cried Madame Imbert, "are you not athome here? We want your advice. What bonds should we sell? The foreignsecurities or the government annuities?"

"But the injunction?" said Lupin, with surprise. 

"Oh! it doesn't cover all the bonds. "

She opened the door of the safe and withdrew a package of bonds. But herhusband protested. 

"No, no, Gervaise, it would be foolish to sell the foreign bonds. Theyare going up, whilst the annuities are as high as they ever will be. What do you think, my dear friend?"

The dear friend had no opinion; yet he advised the sacrifice of theannuities. Then she withdrew another package and, from it, she tooka paper at random. It proved to be a three-per-cent annuity worth twothousand francs. Ludovic placed the package of bonds in his pocket. That afternoon, accompanied by his secretary, he sold the annuities to astock-broker and realized forty-six thousand francs. 

Whatever Madame Imbert might have said about it, Arsène Lupin did notfeel at home in the Imbert house. On the contrary, his position therewas a peculiar one. He learned that the servants did not even know hisname. They called him "monsieur. " Ludovic always spoke of him in thesame way: "You will tell monsieur. Has monsieur arrived?" Why thatmysterious appellation?

Moreover, after their first outburst of enthusiasm, the Imberts seldomspoke to him, and, although treating him with the consideration due toa benefactor, they gave him little or no attention. They appeared toregard him as an eccentric character who did not like to be disturbed, and they respected his isolation as if it were a stringent rule on hispart. On one occasion, while passing through the vestibule, he heardMadame Imbert say to the two gentlemen:

"He is such a barbarian!"

"Very well, " he said to himself, "I am a barbarian. "

And, without seeking to solve the question of their strange conduct, heproceeded with the execution of his own plans. He had decided that hecould not depend on chance, nor on the negligence of Madame Imbert, whocarried the key of the safe, and who, on locking the safe, invariablyscattered the letters forming the combination of the lock. Consequently, he must act for himself. 

Finally, an incident precipitated matters; it was the vehement campaigninstituted against the Imberts by certain newspapers that accusedthe Imberts of swindling. Arsène Lupin was present at certain familyconferences when this new vicissitude was discussed. He decided that ifhe waited much longer, he would lose everything. During the next fivedays, instead of leaving the house about six o'clock, according to hisusual habit, he locked himself in his room. It was supposed that he hadgone out. But he was lying on the floor surveying the office of Mon. Imbert. During those five evenings, the favorable opportunity that heawaited did not take place. He left the house about midnight by a sidedoor to which he held the key. 

But on the sixth day, he learned that the Imberts, actuated by themalevolent insinuations of their enemies, proposed to make an inventoryof the contents of the safe. 

"They will do it to-night, " thought Lupin. 

And truly, after dinner, Imbert and his wife retired to the office andcommenced to examine the books of account and the securities containedin the safe. Thus, one hour after another passed away. He heard theservants go upstairs to their rooms. No one now remained on the firstfloor. Midnight! The Imberts were still at work. 

"I must get to work, " murmured Lupin. 

He opened his window. It opened on a court. Outside, everything wasdark and quiet. He took from his desk a knotted rope, fastened it tothe balcony in front of his window, and quietly descended as far as thewindow below, which was that of the of Imbert's office. He stood uponthe balcony for a moment, motionless, with attentive ear and watchfuleye, but the heavy curtains effectually concealed the interior of theroom. He cautiously pushed on the double window. If no one had examinedit, it ought to yield to the slightest pressure, for, during theafternoon, he had so fixed the bolt that it would not enter the staple. 

The window yielded to his touch. Then, with infinite care, he pushedit open sufficiently to admit his head. He parted the curtains a fewinches, looked in, and saw Mon. Imbert and his wife sitting in frontof the safe, deeply absorbed in their work and speaking softly to eachother at rare intervals. 

He calculated the distance between him and them, considered the exactmovements he would require to make in order to overcome them, one afterthe other, before they could call for help, and he was about to rushupon them, when Madame Imbert said:

"Ah! the room is getting quite cold. I am going to bed. And you, mydear?"

"I shall stay and finish. "

"Finish! Why, that will take you all night. "

"Not at all. An hour, at the most. "

She retired. Twenty minutes, thirty minutes passed. Arsène pushed thewindow a little farther open. The curtains shook. He pushed once more. Mon. Imbert turned, and, seeing the curtains blown by the wind, he roseto close the window. 

There was not a cry, not the trace of struggle. With a few precisemoments, and without causing him the least injury, Arsène stunned him, wrapped the curtain about his head, bound him hand and foot, and did itall in such a manner that Mon. Imbert had no opportunity to recognizehis assailant. 

Quickly, he approached the safe, seized two packages that he placedunder his arm, left the office, and opened the servants' gate. Acarriage was stationed in the street. 

"Take that, first--and follow me, " he said to the coachman. He returnedto the office, and, in two trips, they emptied the safe. Then Arsènewent to his own room, removed the rope, and all other traces of hisclandestine work. 

A few hours later, Arsène Lupin and his assistant examined the stolengoods. Lupin was not disappointed, as he had foreseen that the wealth ofthe Imberts had been greatly exaggerated. It did not consist of hundredsof millions, nor even tens of millions. Yet it amounted to a veryrespectable sum, and Lupin expressed his satisfaction. 

"Of course, " he said, "there will be a considerable loss when we cometo sell the bonds, as we will have to dispose of them surreptitiouslyat reduced prices. In the meantime, they will rest quietly in my deskawaiting a propitious moment. "

Arsène saw no reason why he should not go to the Imbert house the nextday. But a perusal of the morning papers revealed this startling fact:Ludovic and Gervaise Imbert had disappeared. 

When the officers of the law seized the safe and opened it, they foundthere what Arsène Lupin had left--nothing. 

* * * * *

Such are the facts; and I learned the sequel to them, one day, whenArsène Lupin was in a confidential mood. He was pacing to and fro in myroom, with a nervous step and a feverish eye that were unusual to him. 

"After all, " I said to him, "it was your most successful venture. "

Without making a direct reply, he said:

"There are some impenetrable secrets connected with that affair; someobscure points that escape my comprehension. For instance: Whatcaused their flight? Why did they not take advantage of the help Iunconsciously gave them? It would have been so simple to say: `Thehundred millions were in the safe. They are no longer there, becausethey have been stolen. '"

"They lost their nerve. "

"Yes, that is it--they lost their nerve. .. On the other hand, it istrue---"

"What is true?"

"Oh! nothing. "

What was the meaning of Lupin's reticence? It was quite obvious that hehad not told me everything; there was something he was loath to tell. His conduct puzzled me. It must indeed be a very serious matter to causesuch a man as Arsène Lupin even a momentary hesitation. I threw out afew questions at random. 

"Have you seen them since?"

"No. "

"And have you never experienced the slightest degree of pity for thoseunfortunate people?"

"I!" he exclaimed, with a start. 

His sudden excitement astonished me. Had I touched him on a sore spot? Icontinued:

"Of course. If you had not left them alone, they might have been able toface the danger, or, at least, made their escape with full pockets. "

"What do you mean?" he said, indignantly. "I suppose you have an ideathat my soul should be filled with remorse?"

"Call it remorse or regrets--anything you like---"

"They are not worth it. "

"Have you no regrets or remorse for having stolen their fortune?"

"What fortune?"

"The packages of bonds you took from their safe. "

"Oh! I stole their bonds, did I? I deprived them of a portion of theirwealth? Is that my crime? Ah! my dear boy, you do not know the truth. You never imagined that those bonds were not worth the paper they werewritten on. Those bonds were false--they were counterfeit--every one ofthem--do you understand? THEY WERE COUNTERFEIT!"

I looked at him, astounded. 

"Counterfeit! The four or five millions?"

"Yes, counterfeit!" he exclaimed, in a fit of rage. "Only so many scrapsof paper! I couldn't raise a sou on the whole of them! And you ask me ifI have any remorse. THEY are the ones who should have remorse and pity. They played me for a simpleton; and I fell into their trap. I was theirlatest victim, their most stupid gull!"

He was affected by genuine anger--the result of malice and woundedpride. He continued:

"From start to finish, I got the worst of it. Do you know the part Iplayed in that affair, or rather the part they made me play? That ofAndré Brawford! Yes, my boy, that is the truth, and I never suspectedit. It was not until afterwards, on reading the newspapers, that thelight finally dawned in my stupid brain. Whilst I was posing as his"saviour, " as the gentleman who had risked his life to rescue Mon. Imbert from the clutches of an assassin, they were passing me off asBrawford. Wasn't that splendid? That eccentric individual who had aroom on the second floor, that barbarian that was exhibited only at adistance, was Brawford, and Brawford was I! Thanks to me, and to theconfidence that I inspired under the name of Brawford, they were enabledto borrow money from the bankers and other money-lenders. Ha! what anexperience for a novice! And I swear to you that I shall profit by thelesson!"

He stopped, seized my arm, and said to me, in a tone of exasperation:

"My dear fellow, at this very moment, Gervaise Imbert owes me fifteenhundred francs. "

I could not refrain from laughter, his rage was so grotesque. He wasmaking a mountain out of a molehill. In a moment, he laughed himself, and said:

"Yes, my boy, fifteen hundred francs. You must know that I had notreceived one sou of my promised salary, and, more than that, she hadborrowed from me the sum of fifteen hundred francs. All my youthfulsavings! And do you know why? To devote the money to charity! I amgiving you a straight story. She wanted it for some poor people she wasassisting--unknown to her husband. And my hard-earned money was wormedout of me by that silly pretense! Isn't it amusing, hein? Arsène Lupindone out of fifteen hundred francs by the fair lady from whom he stolefour millions in counterfeit bonds! And what a vast amount of time andpatience and cunning I expended to achieve that result! It was the firsttime in my life that I was played for a fool, and I frankly confess thatI was fooled that time to the queen's taste!"

VIII. The Black Pearl

A violent ringing of the bell awakened the concierge of number nine, avenue Hoche. She pulled the doorstring, grumbling:

"I thought everybody was in. It must be three o'clock!"

"Perhaps it is some one for the doctor, " muttered her husband. 

"Third floor, left. But the doctor won't go out at night. "

"He must go to-night. "

The visitor entered the vestibule, ascended to the first floor, thesecond, the third, and, without stopping at the doctor's door, hecontinued to the fifth floor. There, he tried two keys. One of themfitted the lock. 

"Ah! good!" he murmured, "that simplifies the business wonderfully. But before I commence work I had better arrange for my retreat. Let mesee. .. . Have I had sufficient time to rouse the doctor and be dismissedby him? Not yet. .. . A few minutes more. "

At the end of ten minutes, he descended the stairs, grumbling noisilyabout the doctor. The concierge opened the door for him and heard itclick behind him. But the door did not lock, as the man had quicklyinserted a piece of iron in the lock in such a manner that the boltcould not enter. Then, quietly, he entered the house again, unknown tothe concierge. In case of alarm, his retreat was assured. Noiselessly, he ascended to the fifth floor once more. In the antechamber, by thelight of his electric lantern, he placed his hat and overcoat on oneof the chairs, took a seat on another, and covered his heavy shoes withfelt slippers. 

"Ouf! Here I am--and how simple it was! I wonder why more people do notadopt the profitable and pleasant occupation of burglar. With a littlecare and reflection, it becomes a most delightful profession. Not tooquiet and monotonous, of course, as it would then become wearisome. "

He unfolded a detailed plan of the apartment. 

"Let me commence by locating myself. Here, I see the vestibule in whichI am sitting. On the street front, the drawing-room, the boudoir anddining-room. Useless to waste any time there, as it appears that thecountess has a deplorable taste. .. . Not a bibelot of any value!. .. Now, let's get down to business!. .. Ah! here is a corridor; it must lead tothe bed chambers. At a distance of three metres, I should come to thedoor of the wardrobe-closet which connects with the chamber of thecountess. " He folded his plan, extinguished his lantern, and proceededdown the corridor, counting his distance, thus:

"One metre. .. . Two metres. .. . Three metres. .. . Here is the door. .. . MonDieu, how easy it is! Only a small, simple bolt now separates me fromthe chamber, and I know that the bolt is located exactly one metre, forty-three centimeters, from the floor. So that, thanks to a smallincision I am about to make, I can soon get rid of the bolt. "

He drew from his pocket the necessary instruments. Then the followingidea occurred to him:

"Suppose, by chance, the door is not bolted. I will try it first. "

He turned the knob, and the door opened. 

"My brave Lupin, surely fortune favors you. .. . What's to be done now?You know the situation of the rooms; you know the place in which thecountess hides the black pearl. Therefore, in order to secure the blackpearl, you have simply to be more silent than silence, more invisiblethan darkness itself. "

Arsène Lupin was employed fully a half-hour in opening the seconddoor--a glass door that led to the countess' bedchamber. But heaccomplished it with so much skill and precaution, that even had hadthe countess been awake, she would not have heard the slightest sound. According to the plan of the rooms, that he holds, he has merely to passaround a reclining chair and, beyond that, a small table close to thebed. On the table, there was a box of letter-paper, and the black pearlwas concealed in that box. He stooped and crept cautiously over thecarpet, following the outlines of the reclining-chair. When he reachedthe extremity of it, he stopped in order to repress the throbbing ofhis heart. Although he was not moved by any sense of fear, he found itimpossible to overcome the nervous anxiety that one usually feels in themidst of profound silence. That circumstance astonished him, because hehad passed through many more solemn moments without the slightest traceof emotion. No danger threatened him. Then why did his heart throb likean alarm-bell? Was it that sleeping woman who affected him? Was it theproximity of another pulsating heart?

He listened, and thought he could discern the rhythmical breathing of aperson asleep. It gave him confidence, like the presence of a friend. He sought and found the armchair; then, by slow, cautious movements, advanced toward the table, feeling ahead of him with outstretched arm. His right had touched one of the feet of the table. Ah! now, he hadsimply to rise, take the pearl, and escape. That was fortunate, as hisheart was leaping in his breast like a wild beast, and made so muchnoise that he feared it would waken the countess. By a powerful effortof the will, he subdued the wild throbbing of his heart, and was aboutto rise from the floor when his left hand encountered, lying on thefloor, an object which he recognized as a candlestick--an overturnedcandlestick. A moment later, his hand encountered another object:a clock--one of those small traveling clocks, covered with leather. -------

Well! What had happened? He could not understand. That candlestick, thatclock; why were those articles not in their accustomed places? Ah! whathad happened in the dread silence of the night?

Suddenly a cry escaped him. He had touched--oh! some strange, unutterable thing! "No! no!" he thought, "it cannot be. It is somefantasy of my excited brain. " For twenty seconds, thirty seconds, heremained motionless, terrified, his forehead bathed with perspiration, and his fingers still retained the sensation of that dreadful contact. 

Making a desperate effort, he ventured to extend his arm again. Oncemore, his hand encountered that strange, unutterable thing. He feltit. He must feel it and find out what it is. He found that it was hair, human hair, and a human face; and that face was cold, almost icy. 

However frightful the circumstances may be, a man like Arsène Lupincontrols himself and commands the situation as soon as he learns what itis. So, Arsène Lupin quickly brought his lantern into use. A womanwas lying before him, covered with blood. Her neck and shoulderswere covered with gaping wounds. He leaned over her and made a closerexamination. She was dead. 

"Dead! Dead!" he repeated, with a bewildered air. 

He stared at those fixed eyes, that grim mouth, that livid flesh, and that blood--all that blood which had flowed over the carpet andcongealed there in thick, black spots. He arose and turned on theelectric lights. Then he beheld all the marks of a desperate struggle. The bed was in a state of great disorder. On the floor, the candlestick, and the clock, with the hands pointing to twenty minutes after eleven;then, further away, an overturned chair; and, everywhere, there wasblood, spots of blood and pools of blood. 

"And the black pearl?" he murmured. 

The box of letter-paper was in its place. He opened it, eagerly. Thejewel-case was there, but it was empty. 

"Fichtre!" he muttered. "You boasted of your good fortune much too soon, my friend Lupin. With the countess lying cold and dead, and the blackpearl vanished, the situation is anything but pleasant. Get out of hereas soon as you can, or you may get into serious trouble. "

Yet, he did not move. 

"Get out of here? Yes, of course. Any person would, except Arsène Lupin. He has something better to do. Now, to proceed in an orderly way. Atall events, you have a clear conscience. Let us suppose that you arethe commissary of police and that you are proceeding to make an inquiryconcerning this affair----Yes, but in order to do that, I require aclearer brain. Mine is muddled like a ragout. "

He tumbled into an armchair, with his clenched hands pressed against hisburning forehead. 

* * * * *

The murder of the avenue Hoche is one of those which have recentlysurprised and puzzled the Parisian public, and, certainly, I shouldnever have mentioned the affair if the veil of mystery had not beenremoved by Arsène Lupin himself. No one knew the exact truth of thecase. 

Who did not know--from having met her in the Bois--the fair LéotineZalti, the once-famous cantatrice, wife and widow of the Countd'Andillot; the Zalti, whose luxury dazzled all Paris some twenty yearsago; the Zalti who acquired an European reputation for the magnificenceof her diamonds and pearls? It was said that she wore upon her shouldersthe capital of several banking houses and the gold mines of numerousAustralian companies. Skilful jewelers worked for Zalti as they hadformerly wrought for kings and queens. And who does not remember thecatastrophe in which all that wealth was swallowed up? Of all thatmarvelous collection, nothing remained except the famous black pearl. The black pearl! That is to say a fortune, if she had wished to partwith it. 

But she preferred to keep it, to live in a commonplace apartment withher companion, her cook, and a man-servant, rather than sell thatinestimable jewel. There was a reason for it; a reason she was notafraid to disclose: the black pearl was the gift of an emperor! Almostruined, and reduced to the most mediocre existence, she remainedfaithful to the companion of her happy and brilliant youth. The blackpearl never left her possession. She wore it during the day, and, atnight, concealed it in a place known to her alone. 

All these facts, being republished in the columns of the public press, served to stimulate curiosity; and, strange to say, but quite obviousto those who have the key to the mystery, the arrest of the presumedassassin only complicated the question and prolonged the excitement. Twodays later, the newspapers published the following item:

"Information has reached us of the arrest of Victor Danègre, the servantof the Countess d'Andillot. The evidence against him is clear andconvincing. On the silken sleeve of his liveried waistcoat, which chiefdetective Dudouis found in his garret between the mattresses of his bed, several spots of blood were discovered. In addition, a cloth-coveredbutton was missing from that garment, and this button was found beneaththe bed of the victim. 

"It is supposed that, after dinner, in place of going to his own room, Danègre slipped into the wardrobe-closet, and, through the glass door, had seen the countess hide the precious black pearl. This is simplya theory, as yet unverified by any evidence. There is, also, anotherobscure point. At seven o'clock in the morning, Danègre went to thetobacco-shop on the Boulevard de Courcelles; the concierge and theshop-keeper both affirm this fact. On the other hand, the countess'companion and cook, who sleep at the end of the hall, both declare that, when they arose at eight o'clock, the door of the antechamber and thedoor of the kitchen were locked. These two persons have been in theservice of the countess for twenty years, and are above suspicion. Thequestion is: How did Danègre leave the apartment? Did he have anotherkey? These are matters that the police will investigate. "

As a matter of fact, the police investigation threw no light on themystery. It was learned that Victor Danègre was a dangerous criminal, adrunkard and a debauchee. But, as they proceeded with the investigation, the mystery deepened and new complications arose. In the first place, a young woman, Mlle. De Sinclèves, the cousin and sole heiress of thecountess, declared that the countess, a month before her death, hadwritten a letter to her and in it described the manner in which theblack pearl was concealed. The letter disappeared the day after shereceived it. Who had stolen it?

Again, the concierge related how she had opened the door for a personwho had inquired for Doctor Harel. On being questioned, the doctortestified that no one had rung his bell. Then who was that person? Andaccomplice?

The theory of an accomplice was thereupon adopted by the press andpublic, and also by Ganimard, the famous detective. 

"Lupin is at the bottom of this affair, " he said to the judge. 

"Bah!" exclaimed the judge, "you have Lupin on the brain. You see himeverywhere. "

"I see him everywhere, because he is everywhere. "

"Say rather that you see him every time you encounter something youcannot explain. Besides, you overlook the fact that the crime wascommitted at twenty minutes past eleven in the evening, as is shownby the clock, while the nocturnal visit, mentioned by the concierge, occurred at three o'clock in the morning. "

Officers of the law frequently form a hasty conviction as to the guiltof a suspected person, and then distort all subsequent discoveriesto conform to their established theory. The deplorable antecedents ofVictor Danègre, habitual criminal, drunkard and rake, influencedthe judge, and despite the fact that nothing new was discovered incorroboration of the early clues, his official opinion remained firm andunshaken. He closed his investigation, and, a few weeks later, the trialcommenced. It proved to be slow and tedious. The judge was listless, and the public prosecutor presented the case in a careless manner. Underthose circumstances, Danègre's counsel had an easy task. He pointed outthe defects and inconsistencies of the case for the prosecution, andargued that the evidence was quite insufficient to convict the accused. Who had made the key, the indispensable key without which Danègre, onleaving the apartment, could not have locked the door behind him? Whohad ever seen such a key, and what had become of it? Who had seen theassassin's knife, and where is it now?

"In any event, " argued the prisoner's counsel, "the prosecution mustprove, beyond any reasonable doubt, that the prisoner committed themurder. The prosecution must show that the mysterious individual whoentered the house at three o'clock in the morning is not the guiltyparty. To be sure, the clock indicated eleven o'clock. But what of that?I contend, that proves nothing. The assassin could turn the hands of theclock to any hour he pleased, and thus deceive us in regard to the exacthour of the crime. "

Victor Danègre was acquitted. 

He left the prison on Friday about dusk in the evening, weak anddepressed by his six months' imprisonment. The inquisition, thesolitude, the trial, the deliberations of the jury, combined to fillhim with a nervous fear. At night, he had been afflicted with terriblenightmares and haunted by weird visions of the scaffold. He was a mentaland physical wreck. 

Under the assumed name of Anatole Dufour, he rented a small room on theheights of Montmartre, and lived by doing odd jobs wherever he couldfind them. He led a pitiful existence. Three times, he obtained regularemployment, only to be recognized and then discharged. Sometimes, hehad an idea that men were following him--detectives, no doubt, who wereseeking to trap and denounce him. He could almost feel the strong handof the law clutching him by the collar. 

One evening, as he was eating his dinner at a neighboring restaurant, a man entered and took a seat at the same table. He was a person aboutforty years of age, and wore a frock-coat of doubtful cleanliness. Heordered soup, vegetables, and a bottle of wine. After he had finishedhis soup, he turned his eyes on Danègre, and gazed at him intently. Danègre winced. He was certain that this was one of the men who hadbeen following him for several weeks. What did he want? Danègre triedto rise, but failed. His limbs refused to support him. The man pouredhimself a glass of wine, and then filled Danègre's glass. The man raisedhis glass, and said:

"To your health, Victor Danègre. "

Victor started in alarm, and stammered:

"I!. .. . I!. .. . No, no. .. . I swear to you. .. . "

"You will swear what? That you are not yourself? The servant of thecountess?"

"What servant? My name is Dufour. Ask the proprietor. "

"Yes, Anatole Dufour to the proprietor of this restaurant, but VictorDanègre to the officers of the law. "

"That's not true! Some one has lied to you. "

The new-comer took a card from his pocket and handed it to Victor, whoread on it: "Grimaudan, ex-inspector of the detective force. Privatebusiness transacted. " Victor shuddered as he said:

"You are connected with the police?"

"No, not now, but I have a liking for the business and I continue towork at it in a manner more--profitable. From time to time I strike upona golden opportunity--such as your case presents. "

"My case?"

"Yes, yours. I assure you it is a most promising affair, provided youare inclined to be reasonable. "

"But if I am not reasonable?"

"Oh! my good fellow, you are not in a position to refuse me anything Imay ask. "

"What is it. .. . You want?" stammered Victor, fearfully. 

"Well, I will inform you in a few words. I am sent by Mademoiselle deSinclèves, the heiress of the Countess d'Andillot. "

"What for?"

"To recover the black pearl. "

"Black pearl?"

"That you stole. "

"But I haven't got it. "

"You have it. "

"If I had, then I would be the assassin. "

"You are the assassin. "

Danègre showed a forced smile. 

"Fortunately for me, monsieur, the Assizecourt was not of your opinion. The jury returned an unanimous verdict of acquittal. And when a man hasa clear conscience and twelve good men in his favor--"

The ex-inspector seized him by the arm and said:

"No fine phrases, my boy. Now, listen to me and weigh my wordscarefully. You will find they are worthy of your consideration. Now, Danègre, three weeks before the murder, you abstracted the cook's keyto the servants' door, and had a duplicate key made by a locksmith namedOutard, 244 rue Oberkampf. "

"It's a lie--it's a lie!" growled Victor. "No person has seen that key. There is no such key. "

"Here it is. "

After a silence, Grimaudan continued:

"You killed the countess with a knife purchased by you at the Bazar dela Republique on the same day as you ordered the duplicate key. It has atriangular blade with a groove running from end to end. "

"That is all nonsense. You are simply guessing at something you don'tknow. No one ever saw the knife. "

"Here it is. "

Victor Danègre recoiled. The ex-inspector continued:

"There are some spots of rust upon it. Shall I tell you how they camethere?"

"Well!. .. . You have a key and a knife. Who can prove that they belong tome?"

"The locksmith, and the clerk from whom you bought the knife. I havealready refreshed their memories, and, when you confront them, theycannot fail to recognize you. "

His speech was dry and hard, with a tone of firmness and precision. Danègre was trembling with fear, and yet he struggled desperately tomaintain an air of indifference. 

"Is that all the evidence you have?"

"Oh! no, not at all. I have plenty more. For instance, after the crime, you went out the same way you had entered. But, in the centre of thewardrobe-room, being seized by some sudden fear, you leaned against thewall for support. "

"How do you know that? No one could know such a thing, " argued thedesperate man. 

"The police know nothing about it, of course. They never think oflighting a candle and examining the walls. But if they had done so, theywould have found on the white plaster a faint red spot, quite distinct, however, to trace in it the imprint of your thumb which you had pressedagainst the wall while it was wet with blood. Now, as you are wellaware, under the Bertillon system, thumb-marks are one of the principalmeans of identification. "

Victor Danègre was livid; great drops of perspiration rolled down hisface and fell upon the table. He gazed, with a wild look, at the strangeman who had narrated the story of his crime as faithfully as if he hadbeen an invisible witness to it. Overcome and powerless, Victor bowedhis head. He felt that it was useless to struggle against this marvelousman. So he said:

"How much will you give me, if I give you the pearl?"

"Nothing. "

"Oh! you are joking! Or do you mean that I should give you an articleworth thousands and hundreds of thousands and get nothing in return?"

"You will get your life. Is that nothing?"

The unfortunate man shuddered. Then Grimaudan added, in a milder tone:

"Come, Danègre, that pearl has no value in your hands. It is quiteimpossible for you to sell it; so what is the use of your keeping it?"

"There are pawnbrokers. .. . And, some day, I will be able to get somethingfor it. "

"But that day may be too late. "

"Why?"

"Because by that time you may be in the hands of the police, and, with the evidence that I can furnish--the knife, the key, thethumb-mark--what will become of you?"

Victor rested his head on his hands and reflected. He felt that he waslost, irremediably lost, and, at the same time, a sense of weariness anddepression overcame him. He murmured, faintly:

"When must I give it to you?"

"To-night---within an hour. "

"If I refuse?"

"If you refuse, I shall post this letter to the Procureur of theRepublic; in which letter Mademoiselle de Sinclèves denounces you as theassassin. "

Danègre poured out two glasses of wine which he drank in rapidsuccession, then, rising, said:

"Pay the bill, and let us go. I have had enough of the cursed affair. "

Night had fallen. The two men walked down the rue Lepic and followedthe exterior boulevards in the direction of the Place de l'Etoile. They pursued their way in silence; Victor had a stooping carriage and adejected face. When they reached the Parc Monceau, he said:

"We are near the house. "

"Parbleu! You only left the house once, before your arrest, and that wasto go to the tobacco-shop. "

"Here it is, " said Danègre, in a dull voice. 

They passed along the garden wall of the countess' house, and crossed astreet on a corner of which stood the tobacco-shop. A few steps furtheron, Danègre stopped; his limbs shook beneath him, and he sank to abench. 

"Well! what now?" demanded his companion. 

"It is there. "

"Where? Come, now, no nonsense!"

"There--in front of us. "

"Where?"

"Between two paving-stones. "

"Which?"

"Look for it. "

"Which stones?"

Victor made no reply. 

"Ah; I see!" exclaimed Grimaudan, "you want me to pay for theinformation. "

"No. .. . But. .. . I am afraid I will starve to death. "

"So! that is why you hesitate. Well, I'll not be hard on you. How muchdo you want?"

"Enough to buy a steerage pass to America. "

"All right. "

"And a hundred francs to keep me until I get work there. "

"You shall have two hundred. Now, speak. "

"Count the paving-stones to the right from the sewer-hole. The pearl isbetween the twelfth and thirteenth. "

"In the gutter?"

"Yes, close to the sidewalk. "

Grimaudan glanced around to see if anyone were looking. Some tram-carsand pedestrians were passing. But, bah, they will not suspect anything. He opened his pocketknife and thrust it between the twelfth andthirteenth stones. 

"And if it is not there?" he said to Victor. 

"It must be there, unless someone saw me stoop down and hide it. "

Could it be possible that the back pearl had been cast into the mudand filth of the gutter to be picked up by the first comer? The blackpearl--a fortune!

"How far down?" he asked. 

"About ten centimetres. "

He dug up the wet earth. The point of his knife struck something. Heenlarged the hole with his finger. Then he abstracted the black pearlfrom its filthy hiding-place. 

"Good! Here are your two hundred francs. I will send you the ticket forAmerica. "

On the following day, this article was published in the `Echo deFrance, ' and was copied by the leading newspapers throughout the world:

 "Yesterday, the famous black pearl came into the possession of Arsène Lupin, who recovered it from the murderer of the Countess d'Andillot. In a short time, fac-similes of that precious jewel will be exhibited in London, St. Petersburg, Calcutta, Buenos Ayres and New York. 

 "Arsène Lupin will be pleased to consider all propositions submitted to him through his agents. "

* * * * *

"And that is how crime is always punished and virtue rewarded, " saidArsène Lupin, after he had told me the foregoing history of the blackpearl. 

"And that is how you, under the assumed name of Grimaudan, ex-inspectorof detectives, were chosen by fate to deprive the criminal of thebenefit of his crime. "

"Exactly. And I confess that the affair gives me infinite satisfactionand pride. The forty minutes that I passed in the apartment of theCountess d'Andillot, after learning of her death, were the mostthrilling and absorbing moments of my life. In those forty minutes, involved as I was in a most dangerous plight, I calmly studied the sceneof the murder and reached the conclusion that the crime must have beencommitted by one of the house servants. I also decided that, in orderto get the pearl, that servant must be arrested, and so I left thewainscoat button; it was necessary, also, for me to hold some convincingevidence of his guilt, so I carried away the knife which I found uponthe floor, and the key which I found in the lock. I closed andlocked the door, and erased the finger-marks from the plaster in thewardrobe-closet. In my opinion, that was one of those flashes--"

"Of genius, " I said, interrupting. 

"Of genius, if you wish. But, I flatter myself, it would not haveoccurred to the average mortal. To frame, instantly, the two elements ofthe problem--an arrest and an acquittal; to make use of the formidablemachinery of the law to crush and humble my victim, and reduce him to acondition in which, when free, he would be certain to fall into the trapI was laying for him!"

"Poor devil--"

"Poor devil, do you say? Victor Danègre, the assassin! He might havedescended to the lowest depths of vice and crime, if he had retained theblack pearl. Now, he lives! Think of that: Victor Danègre is alive!"

"And you have the black pearl. "

He took it out of one of the secret pockets of his wallet, examined it, gazed at it tenderly, and caressed it with loving fingers, and sighed, as he said:

"What cold Russian prince, what vain and foolish rajah may some daypossess this priceless treasure! Or, perhaps, some American millionaireis destined to become the owner of this morsel of exquisite beauty thatonce adorned the fair bosom of Leontine Zalti, the Countess d'Andillot. "

IX. Sherlock Holmes Arrives Too Late

"It is really remarkable, Velmont, what a close resemblance you bear toArsène Lupin!"

"How do you know?"

"Oh! like everyone else, from photographs, no two of which are alike, but each of them leaves the impression of a face. .. . Something likeyours. "

Horace Velmont displayed some vexation. 

"Quite so, my dear Devanne. And, believe me, you are not the first onewho has noticed it. "

"It is so striking, " persisted Devanne, "that if you had not beenrecommended to me by my cousin d'Estevan, and if you were not thecelebrated artist whose beautiful marine views I so admire, I have nodoubt I should have warned the police of your presence in Dieppe. "

This sally was greeted with an outburst of laughter. The largedining-hall of the Château de Thibermesnil contained on this occasion, besides Valmont, the following guests: Father Gélis, the parish priest, and a dozen officers whose regiments were quartered in the vicinity andwho had accepted the invitation of the banker Georges Devanne and hismother. One of the officers then remarked:

"I understand that an exact description of Arsène Lupin has beenfurnished to all the police along this coast since his daring exploit onthe Paris-Havre express. "

"I suppose so, " said Devanne. "That was three months ago; and a weeklater, I made the acquaintance of our friend Velmont at the casino, and, since then, he has honored me with several visits--an agreeable preambleto a more serious visit that he will pay me one of these days--or, rather, one of these nights. "

This speech evoked another round of laughter, and the guests then passedinto the ancient "Hall of the Guards, " a vast room with a high ceiling, which occupied the entire lower part of the Tour Guillaume--William'sTower--and wherein Georges Devanne had collected the incomparabletreasures which the lords of Thibermesnil had accumulated throughmany centuries. It contained ancient chests, credences, andirons andchandeliers. The stone walls were overhung with magnificent tapestries. The deep embrasures of the four windows were furnished with benches, andthe Gothic windows were composed of small panes of colored glass setin a leaden frame. Between the door and the window to the left stoodan immense bookcase of Renaissance style, on the pediment of which, inletters of gold, was the world "Thibermesnil, " and, below it, the proudfamily device: "Fais ce que veulx" (Do what thou wishest). When theguests had lighted their cigars, Devanne resumed the conversation. 

"And remember, Velmont, you have no time to lose; in fact, to-night isthe last chance you will have. "

"How so?" asked the painter, who appeared to regard the affair as ajoke. Devanne was about to reply, when his mother mentioned to him tokeep silent, but the excitement of the occasion and a desire to interesthis guests urged him to speak. 

"Bah!" he murmured. "I can tell it now. It won't do any harm. "

The guests drew closer, and he commenced to speak with the satisfied airof a man who has an important announcement to make. 

"To-morrow afternoon at four o'clock, Sherlock Holmes, the famousEnglish detective, for whom such a thing as mystery does not exist;Sherlock Holmes, the most remarkable solver of enigmas the world hasever known, that marvelous man who would seem to be the creation of aromantic novelist--Sherlock Holmes will be my guest!"

Immediately, Devanne was the target of numerous eager questions. "IsSherlock Holmes really coming?" "Is it so serious as that?" "Is ArsèneLupin really in this neighborhood?"

"Arsène Lupin and his band are not far away. Besides the robbery of theBaron Cahorn, he is credited with the thefts at Montigny, Gruchet andCrasville. "

"Has he sent you a warning, as he did to Baron Cahorn?"

"No, " replied Devanne, "he can't work the same trick twice. "

"What then?"

"I will show you. "

He rose, and pointing to a small empty space between the two enormousfolios on one of the shelves of the bookcase, he said:

"There used to be a book there--a book of the sixteenth century entitled`Chronique de Thibermesnil, ' which contained the history of the castlesince its construction by Duke Rollo on the site of a former feudalfortress. There were three engraved plates in the book; one of which wasa general view of the whole estate; another, the plan of the buildings;and the third--I call your attention to it, particularly--the third wasthe sketch of a subterranean passage, an entrance to which is outsidethe first line of ramparts, while the other end of the passage is here, in this very room. Well, that book disappeared a month ago. "

"The deuce!" said Velmont, "that looks bad. But it doesn't seem to be asufficient reason for sending for Sherlock Holmes. "

"Certainly, that was not sufficient in itself, but another incidenthappened that gives the disappearance of the book a specialsignificance. There was another copy of this book in the NationalLibrary at Paris, and the two books differed in certain details relatingto the subterranean passage; for instance, each of them containeddrawings and annotations, not printed, but written in ink and more orless effaced. I knew those facts, and I knew that the exact location ofthe passage could be determined only by a comparison of the two books. Now, the day after my book disappeared, the book was called for in theNational Library by a reader who carried it away, and no one knows howthe theft was effected. "

The guests uttered many exclamations of surprise. 

"Certainly, the affair looks serious, " said one. 

"Well, the police investigated the matter, and, as usual, discovered noclue whatever. "

"They never do, when Arsène Lupin is concerned in it. "

"Exactly; and so I decided to ask the assistance of Sherlock Holmes, who replied that he was ready and anxious to enter the lists with ArsèneLupin. "

"What glory for Arsène Lupin!" said Velmont. "But if our national thief, as they call him, has no evil designs on your castle, Sherlock Holmeswill have his trip in vain. "

"There are other things that will interest him, such as the discovery ofthe subterranean passage. "

"But you told us that one end of the passage was outside the rampartsand the other was in this very room!"

"Yes, but in what part of the room? The line which represents thepassage on the charts ends here, with a small circle marked with theletters `T. G. , ' which no doubt stand for `Tour Guillaume. ' But the toweris round, and who can tell the exact spot at which the passage touchesthe tower?"

Devanne lighted a second cigar and poured himself a glass ofBenedictine. His guests pressed him with questions and he was pleased toobserve the interest that his remarks had created. The he continued:

"The secret is lost. No one knows it. The legend is to the effect thatthe former lords of the castle transmitted the secret from father to sonon their deathbeds, until Geoffroy, the last of the race, was beheadedduring the Revolution in his nineteenth year. "

"That is over a century ago. Surely, someone has looked for it sincethat time?"

"Yes, but they failed to find it. After I purchased the castle, I made adiligent search for it, but without success. You must remember that thistower is surrounded by water and connected with the castle only by abridge; consequently, the passage must be underneath the old moat. Theplan that was in the book in the National Library showed a series ofstairs with a total of forty-eight steps, which indicates a depth ofmore than ten meters. You see, the mystery lies within the walls of thisroom, and yet I dislike to tear them down. "

"Is there nothing to show where it is?"

"Nothing. "

"Mon. Devanne, we should turn our attention to the two quotations, "suggested Father Gélis. 

"Oh!" exclaimed Mon. Devanne, laughing, "our worthy father is fondof reading memoirs and delving into the musty archives of the castle. Everything relating to Thibermesnil interests him greatly. But thequotations that he mentions only serve to complicate the mystery. Hehas read somewhere that two kings of France have known the key to thepuzzle. "

"Two kings of France! Who were they?"

"Henry the Fourth and Louis the Sixteenth. And the legend runs likethis: On the eve of the battle of Arques, Henry the Fourth spent thenight in this castle. At eleven o'clock in the evening, Louise deTancarville, the prettiest woman in Normandy, was brought into thecastle through the subterranean passage by Duke Edgard, who, at thesame time, informed the king of the secret passage. Afterward, the kingconfided the secret to his minister Sully, who, in turn, relates thestory in his book, "Royales Economies d'Etat, " without making anycomment upon it, but linking with it this incomprehensible sentence:`Turn one eye on the bee that shakes, the other eye will lead to God!'"

After a brief silence, Velmont laughed and said:

"Certainly, it doesn't throw a dazzling light upon the subject. "

"No; but Father Gélis claims that Sully concealed the key to themystery in this strange sentence in order to keep the secret from thesecretaries to whom he dictated his memoirs. "

"That is an ingenious theory, " said Velmont. 

"Yes, and it may be nothing more; I cannot see that it throws any lighton the mysterious riddle. "

"And was it also to receive the visit of a lady that Louis the Sixteenthcaused the passage to be opened?"

"I don't know, " said Mon. Devanne. "All I can say is that the kingstopped here one night in 1784, and that the famous Iron Casket foundin the Louvre contained a paper bearing these words in the king's ownwriting: `Thibermesnil 3-4-11. '"

Horace Velmont laughed heartily, and exclaimed:

"At last! And now that we have the magic key, where is the man who canfit it to the invisible lock?"

"Laugh as much as you please, monsieur, " said Father Gèlis, "but I amconfident the solution is contained in those two sentences, and some daywe will find a man able to interpret them. "

"Sherlock Holmes is the man, " said Mon. Devanne, "unless Arsène Lupingets ahead of him. What is your opinion, Velmont?"

Velmont arose, placed his hand on Devanne's shoulder, and declared:

"I think that the information furnished by your book and the book of theNational Library was deficient in a very important detail which you havenow supplied. I thank you for it. "

"What is it?"

"The missing key. Now that I have it, I can go to work at once, " saidVelmont. 

"Of course; without losing a minute, " said Devanne, smiling. 

"Not even a second!" replied Velmont. "To-night, before the arrival ofSherlock Holmes, I must plunder your castle. "

"You have no time to lose. Oh! by the way, I can drive you over thisevening. "

"To Dieppe?"

"Yes. I am going to meet Monsieur and Madame d'Androl and a young ladyof their acquaintance who are to arrive by the midnight train. "

Then addressing the officers, Devanne added:

"Gentlemen, I shall expect to see all of you at breakfast to-morrow. "

The invitation was accepted. The company dispersed, and a few momentslater Devanne and Velmont were speeding toward Dieppe in an automobile. Devanne dropped the artist in front of the Casino, and proceeded to therailway station. At twelve o'clock his friends alighted from the train. A half hour later the automobile was at the entrance to the castle. At one o'clock, after a light supper, they retired. The lights wereextinguished, and the castle was enveloped in the darkness and silenceof the night. 

* * * * *

The moon appeared through a rift in the clouds, and filled thedrawing-room with its bright white light. But only for a moment. Thenthe moon again retired behind its ethereal draperies, and darkness andsilence reigned supreme. No sound could be heard, save the monotonousticking of the clock. It struck two, and then continued its endlessrepetitions of the seconds. Then, three o'clock. 

Suddenly, something clicked, like the opening and closing of asignal-disc that warns the passing train. A thin stream of light flashedto every corner of the room, like an arrow that leaves behind it atrail of light. It shot forth from the central fluting of a column thatsupported the pediment of the bookcase. It rested for a moment onthe panel opposite like a glittering circle of burnished silver, thenflashed in all directions like a guilty eye that scrutinizes everyshadow. It disappeared for a short time, but burst forth again as awhole section of the bookcase revolved on a picot and disclosed a largeopening like a vault. 

A man entered, carrying an electric lantern. He was followed by a secondman, who carried a coil of rope and various tools. The leader inspectedthe room, listened a moment, and said:

"Call the others. "

Then eight men, stout fellows with resolute faces, entered the room, and immediately commenced to remove the furnishings. Arsène Lupin passedquickly from one piece of furniture to another, examined each, and, according to its size or artistic value, he directed his men to take itor leave it. If ordered to be taken, it was carried to the gaping mouthof the tunnel, and ruthlessly thrust into the bowels of the earth. Suchwas the fate of six armchairs, six small Louis XV chairs, a quantityof Aubusson tapestries, some candelabra, paintings by Fragonard andNattier, a bust by Houdon, and some statuettes. Sometimes, Lupin wouldlinger before a beautiful chest or a superb picture, and sigh:

"That is too heavy. .. . Too large. .. . What a pity!"

In forty minutes the room was dismantled; and it had been accomplishedin such an orderly manner and with as little noise as if the variousarticles had been packed and wadded for the occasion. 

Lupin said to the last man who departed by way of the tunnel:

"You need not come back. You understand, that as soon as the auto-van isloaded, you are to proceed to the grange at Roquefort. "

"But you, patron?"

"Leave me the motor-cycle. "

When the man had disappeared, Arsène Lupin pushed the section of thebookcase back into its place, carefully effaced the traces of the men'sfootsteps, raised a portiere, and entered a gallery, which was the onlymeans of communication between the tower and the castle. In the centerof this gallery there was a glass cabinet which had attracted Lupin'sattentions. It contained a valuable collection of watches, snuff-boxes, rings, chatelaines and miniatures of rare and beautiful workmanship. Heforced the lock with a small jimmy, and experienced a great pleasure inhandling those gold and silver ornaments, those exquisite and delicateworks of art. 

He carried a large linen bag, specially prepared for the removal ofsuch knick-knacks. He filled it. Then he filled the pockets of his coat, waistcoat and trousers. And he was just placing over his left arm anumber of pearl reticules when he heard a slight sound. He listened. No, he was not deceived. The noise continued. Then he remembered that, atone end of the gallery, there was a stairway leading to an unoccupiedapartment, but which was probably occupied that night by the young ladywhom Mon. Devanne had brought from Dieppe with his other visitors. 

Immediately he extinguished his lantern, and had scarcely gained thefriendly shelter of a window-embrasure, when the door at the top of thestairway was opened and a feeble light illuminated the gallery. He couldfeel--for, concealed by a curtain, he could not see--that a woman wascautiously descending the upper steps of the stairs. He hoped she wouldcome no closer. Yet, she continued to descend, and even advanced somedistance into the room. Then she uttered a faint cry. No doubt she haddiscovered the broken and dismantled cabinet. 

She advanced again. Now he could smell the perfume, and hear thethrobbing of her heart as she drew closer to the window where he wasconcealed. She passed so close that her skirt brushed against thewindow-curtain, and Lupin felt that she suspected the presence ofanother, behind her, in the shadow, within reach of her hand. Hethought: "She is afraid. She will go away. " But she did not go. Thecandle, that she carried in her trembling hand, grew brighter. Sheturned, hesitated a moment, appeared to listen, then suddenly drew asidethe curtain. 

They stood face to face. Arsène was astounded. He murmured, involuntarily:

"You--you--mademoiselle. "

It was Miss Nelly. Miss Nelly! his fellow passenger on the transatlanticsteamer, who had been the subject of his dreams on that memorablevoyage, who had been a witness to his arrest, and who, rather thanbetray him, had dropped into the water the kodak in which he hadconcealed the bank-notes and diamonds. Miss Nelly! that charmingcreature, the memory of whose face had sometimes sheered, sometimessaddened the long hours of imprisonment. 

It was such an unexpected encounter that brought them face to face inthat castle at that hour of the night, that they could not move, nor utter a word; they were amazed, hypnotized, each at the suddenapparition of the other. Trembling with emotion, Miss Nelly staggered toa seat. He remained standing in front of her. 

Gradually, he realized the situation and conceived the impression hemust have produced at that moment with his arms laden with knick-knacks, and his pockets and a linen sack overflowing with plunder. He wasovercome with confusion, and he actually blushed to find himself inthe position of a thief caught in the act. To her, henceforth, he wasa thief, a man who puts his hand in another's pocket, who steals intohouses and robs people while they sleep. 

A watch fell upon the floor; then another. These were followed by otherarticles which slipped from his grasp one by one. Then, actuated by asudden decision, he dropped the other articles into an armchair, emptiedhis pockets and unpacked his sack. He felt very uncomfortable in Nelly'spresence, and stepped toward her with the intention of speaking to her, but she shuddered, rose quickly and fled toward the salon. The portiereclosed behind her. He followed her. She was standing trembling andamazed at the sight of the devastated room. He said to her, at once:

"To-morrow, at three o'clock, everything will be returned. The furniturewill be brought back. "

She made no reply, so he repeated:

"I promise it. To-morrow, at three o'clock. Nothing in the world couldinduce me to break that promise. .. . To-morrow, at three o'clock. "

Then followed a long silence that he dared not break, whilst theagitation of the young girl caused him a feeling of genuine regret. Quietly, without a word, he turned away, thinking: "I hope she will goaway. I can't endure her presence. " But the young girl suddenly spoke, and stammered:

"Listen. .. . Footsteps. .. . I hear someone. .. . "

He looked at her with astonishment. She seemed to be overwhelmed by thethought of approaching peril. 

"I don't hear anything, " he said. 

"But you must go--you must escape!"

"Why should I go?"

"Because--you must. Oh! do not remain here another minute. Go!"

She ran, quickly, to the door leading to the gallery and listened. No, there was no one there. Perhaps the noise was outside. She waited amoment, then returned reassured. 

But Arsène Lupin had disappeared. 

* * * * *

As soon as Mon. Devanne was informed of the pillage of his castle, hesaid to himself: It was Velmont who did it, and Velmont is Arsène Lupin. That theory explained everything, and there was no other plausibleexplanation. And yet the idea seemed preposterous. It was ridiculous tosuppose that Velmont was anyone else than Velmont, the famous artist, and club-fellow of his cousin d'Estevan. So, when the captain of thegendarmes arrived to investigate the affair, Devanne did not even thinkof mentioning his absurd theory. 

Throughout the forenoon there was a lively commotion at the castle. The gendarmes, the local police, the chief of police from Dieppe, thevillagers, all circulated to and fro in the halls, examining everynook and corner that was open to their inspection. The approach of themaneuvering troops, the rattling fire of the musketry, added to thepicturesque character of the scene. 

The preliminary search furnished no clue. Neither the doors nor windowsshowed any signs of having been disturbed. Consequently, the removal ofthe goods must have been effected by means of the secret passage. Yet, there were no indications of footsteps on the floor, nor any unusualmarks upon the walls. 

Their investigations revealed, however, one curious fact that denotedthe whimsical character of Arsène Lupin: the famous Chronique of thesixteenth century had been restored to its accustomed place in thelibrary and, beside it, there was a similar book, which was none otherthan the volume stolen from the National Library. 

At eleven o'clock the military officers arrived. Devanne welcomed themwith his usual gayety; for, no matter how much chagrin he might sufferfrom the loss of his artistic treasures, his great wealth enabled him tobear his loss philosophically. His guests, Monsieur and Madame d'Androland Miss Nelly, were introduced; and it was then noticed that one of theexpected guests had not arrived. It was Horace Velmont. Would he come?His absence had awakened the suspicions of Mon. Devanne. But at twelveo'clock he arrived. Devanne exclaimed:

"Ah! here you are!"

"Why, am I not punctual?" asked Velmont. 

"Yes, and I am surprised that you are. .. . After such a busy night! Isuppose you know the news?"

"What news?"

"You have robbed the castle. "

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Velmont, smiling. 

"Exactly as I predicted. But, first escort Miss Underdown to thedining-room. Mademoiselle, allow me--"

He stopped, as he remarked the extreme agitation of the young girl. Then, recalling the incident, he said:

"Ah! of course, you met Arsène Lupin on the steamer, before his arrest, and you are astonished at the resemblance. Is that it?"

She did not reply. Velmont stood before her, smiling. He bowed. Shetook his proffered arm. He escorted her to her place, and took his seatopposite her. During the breakfast, the conversation related exclusivelyto Arsène Lupin, the stolen goods, the secret passage, and SherlockHolmes. It was only at the close of the repast, when the conversationhad drifted to other subjects, that Velmont took any part in it. Thenhe was, by turns, amusing and grave, talkative and pensive. And allhis remarks seemed to be directed to the young girl. But she, quiteabsorbed, did not appear to hear them. 

Coffee was served on the terrace overlooking the court of honor andthe flower garden in front of the principal façade. The regimental bandplayed on the lawn, and scores of soldiers and peasants wandered throughthe park. 

Miss Nelly had not forgotten, for one moment, Lupin's solemn promise:"To-morrow, at three o'clock, everything will be returned. "

At three o'clock! And the hands of the great clock in the right wing ofthe castle now marked twenty minutes to three. In spite of herself, hereyes wandered to the clock every minute. She also watched Velmont, whowas calmly swinging to and fro in a comfortable rocking chair. 

Ten minutes to three!. .. . Five minutes to three!. .. . Nelly was impatientand anxious. Was it possible that Arsène Lupin would carry out hispromise at the appointed hour, when the castle, the courtyard, and thepark were filled with people, and at the very moment when the officersof the law were pursuing their investigations? And yet. .. . Arsène Lupinhad given her his solemn promise. "It will be exactly as he said, "thought she, so deeply was she impressed with the authority, energy andassurance of that remarkable man. To her, it no longer assumed the formof a miracle, but, on the contrary, a natural incident that must occurin the ordinary course of events. She blushed, and turned her head. 

Three o'clock! The great clock struck slowly:one. .. . Two. .. . Three. .. . Horace Velmont took out his watch, glanced at theclock, then returned the watch to his pocket. A few seconds passed insilence; and then the crowd in the courtyard parted to give passageto two wagons, that had just entered the park-gate, each drawn by twohorses. They were army-wagons, such as are used for the transportationof provisions, tents, and other necessary military stores. They stoppedin front of the main entrance, and a commissary-sergeant leaped fromone of the wagons and inquired for Mon. Devanne. A moment later, thatgentleman emerged from the house, descended the steps, and, underthe canvas covers of the wagons, beheld his furniture, pictures andornaments carefully packaged and arranged. 

When questioned, the sergeant produced an order that he had receivedfrom the officer of the day. By that order, the second company of thefourth battalion were commanded to proceed to the crossroads of Halleuxin the forest of Arques, gather up the furniture and other articlesdeposited there, and deliver same to Monsieur Georges Devanne, owner ofthe Thibermesnil castle, at three o'clock. Signed: Col. Beauvel. 

"At the crossroads, " explained the sergeant, "we found everything ready, lying on the grass, guarded by some passers-by. It seemed very strange, but the order was imperative. "

One of the officers examined the signature. He declared it a forgery;but a clever imitation. The wagons were unloaded, and the goods restoredto their proper places in the castle. 

During this commotion, Nelly had remained alone at the extreme end ofthe terrace, absorbed by confused and distracted thoughts. Suddenly, sheobserved Velmont approaching her. She would have avoided him, but thebalustrade that surrounded the terrace cut off her retreat. She wascornered. She could not move. A gleam of sunshine, passing through thescant foliage of a bamboo, lighted up her beautiful golden hair. Someone spoke to her in a low voice:

"Have I not kept my promise?"

Arsène Lupin stood close to her. No one else was near. He repeated, in acalm, soft voice:

"Have I not kept my promise?"

He expected a word of thanks, or at least some slight movement thatwould betray her interest in the fulfillment of his promise. But sheremained silent. 

Her scornful attitude annoyed Arsène Lupin; and he realized the vastdistance that separated him from Miss Nelly, now that she had learnedthe truth. He would gladly have justified himself in her eyes, or atleast pleaded extenuating circumstances, but he perceived the absurdityand futility of such an attempt. Finally, dominated by a surging floodof memories, he murmured:

"Ah! how long ago that was! You remember the long hours on the deck ofthe `Provence. ' Then, you carried a rose in your hand, a white rose likethe one you carry to-day. I asked you for it. You pretended you didnot hear me. After you had gone away, I found the rose--forgotten, nodoubt--and I kept it. "

She made no reply. She seemed to be far away. He continued:

"In memory of those happy hours, forget what you have learned since. Separate the past from the present. Do not regard me as the man you sawlast night, but look at me, if only for a moment, as you did in thosefar-off days when I was Bernard d'Andrezy, for a short time. Will you, please?"

She raised her eyes and looked at him as he had requested. Then, withoutsaying a word, she pointed to a ring he was wearing on his forefinger. Only the ring was visible; but the setting, which was turned toward thepalm of his hand, consisted of a magnificent ruby. Arsène Lupin blushed. The ring belonged to Georges Devanne. He smiled bitterly, and said:

"You are right. Nothing can be changed. Arsène Lupin is now and alwayswill be Arsène Lupin. To you, he cannot be even so much as a memory. Pardon me. .. . I should have known that any attention I may now offer youis simply an insult. Forgive me. "

He stepped aside, hat in hand. Nelly passed before him. He was inclinedto detain her and beseech her forgiveness. But his courage failed, andhe contented himself by following her with his eyes, as he had done whenshe descended the gangway to the pier at New York. She mounted the stepsleading to the door, and disappeared within the house. He saw her nomore. 

A cloud obscured the sun. Arsène Lupin stood watching the imprints ofher tiny feet in the sand. Suddenly, he gave a start. Upon the box whichcontained the bamboo, beside which Nelly had been standing, he sawthe rose, the white rose which he had desired but dared not askfor. Forgotten, no doubt--it, also! But how--designedly or throughdistraction? He seized it eagerly. Some of its petals fell to theground. He picked them up, one by one, like precious relics. 

"Come!" he said to himself, "I have nothing more to do here. I mustthink of my safety, before Sherlock Holmes arrives. "

* * * * *

The park was deserted, but some gendarmes were stationed at thepark-gate. He entered a grove of pine trees, leaped over the wall, and, as a short cut to the railroad station, followed a path across thefields. After walking about ten minutes, he arrived at a spot where theroad grew narrower and ran between two steep banks. In this ravine, hemet a man traveling in the opposite direction. It was a man about fiftyyears of age, tall, smooth-shaven, and wearing clothes of a foreign cut. He carried a heavy cane, and a small satchel was strapped across hisshoulder. When they met, the stranger spoke, with a slight Englishaccent:

"Excuse me, monsieur, is this the way to the castle?"

"Yes, monsieur, straight ahead, and turn to the left when you come tothe wall. They are expecting you. "

"Ah!"

"Yes, my friend Devanne told us last night that you were coming, and Iam delighted to be the first to welcome you. Sherlock Holmes has no moreardent admirer than. .. . Myself. "

There was a touch of irony in his voice that he quickly regretted, forSherlock Holmes scrutinized him from head to foot with such a keen, penetrating eye that Arsène Lupin experienced the sensation of beingseized, imprisoned and registered by that look more thoroughly andprecisely than he had ever been by a camera. 

"My negative is taken now, " he thought, "and it will be useless to usea disguise with that man. He would look right through it. But, I wonder, has he recognized me?"

They bowed to each other as if about to part. But, at that moment, theyheard a sound of horses' feet, accompanied by a clinking of steel. Itwas the gendarmes. The two men were obliged to draw back against theembankment, amongst the brushes, to avoid the horses. The gendarmespassed by, but, as they followed each other at a considerable distance, they were several minutes in doing so. And Lupin was thinking:

"It all depends on that question: has he recognized me? If so, he willprobably take advantage of the opportunity. It is a trying situation. "

When the last horseman had passed, Sherlock Holmes stepped forth andbrushed the dust from his clothes. Then, for a moment, he and ArsèneLupin gazed at each other; and, if a person could have seen them at thatmoment, it would have been an interesting sight, and memorable as thefirst meeting of two remarkable men, so strange, so powerfully equipped, both of superior quality, and destined by fate, through their peculiarattributes, to hurl themselves one at the other like two equal forcesthat nature opposes, one against the other, in the realms of space. 

Then the Englishman said: "Thank you, monsieur. "

They parted. Lupin went toward the railway station, and Sherlock Holmescontinued on his way to the castle. 

The local officers had given up the investigation after several hoursof fruitless efforts, and the people at the castle were awaiting thearrival of the English detective with a lively curiosity. At firstsight, they were a little disappointed on account of his commonplaceappearance, which differed so greatly from the pictures they had formedof him in their own minds. He did not in any way resemble the romantichero, the mysterious and diabolical personage that the name of SherlockHolmes had evoked in their imaginations. However, Mon. Devanne exclaimedwith much gusto:

"Ah! monsieur, you are here! I am delighted to see you. It is along-deferred pleasure. Really, I scarcely regret what has happened, since it affords me the opportunity to meet you. But, how did you come?"

"By the train. "

"But I sent my automobile to meet you at the station. "

"An official reception, eh? with music and fireworks! Oh! no, not forme. That is not the way I do business, " grumbled the Englishman. 

This speech disconcerted Devanne, who replied, with a forced smile:

"Fortunately, the business has been greatly simplified since I wrote toyou. "

"In what way?"

"The robbery took place last night. "

"If you had not announced my intended visit, it is probable the robberywould not have been committed last night. "

"When, then?"

"To-morrow, or some other day. "

"And in that case?"

"Lupin would have been trapped, " said the detective. 

"And my furniture?"

"Would not have been carried away. "

"Ah! but my goods are here. They were brought back at three o'clock. "

"By Lupin. "

"By two army-wagons. "

Sherlock Holmes put on his cap and adjusted his satchel. Devanneexclaimed, anxiously:

"But, monsieur, what are you going to do?"

"I am going home. "

"Why?"

"Your goods have been returned; Arsène Lupin is far away--there isnothing for me to do. "

"Yes, there is. I need your assistance. What happened yesterday, mayhappen again to-morrow, as we do not know how he entered, or how heescaped, or why, a few hours later, he returned the goods. "

"Ah! you don't know--"

The idea of a problem to be solved quickened the interest of SherlockHolmes. 

"Very well, let us make a search--at once--and alone, if possible. "

Devanne understood, and conducted the Englishman to the salon. In a dry, crisp voice, in sentences that seemed to have been prepared in advance, Holmes asked a number of questions about the events of the precedingevening, and enquired also concerning the guests and the members of thehousehold. Then he examined the two volumes of the "Chronique, " comparedthe plans of the subterranean passage, requested a repetition of thesentences discovered by Father Gélis, and then asked:

"Was yesterday the first time you have spoken hose two sentences to anyone?"

"Yes. "

"You had never communicated then to Horace Velmont?"

"No. "

"Well, order the automobile. I must leave in an hour. "

"In an hour?"

"Yes; within that time, Arsène Lupin solved the problem that you placedbefore him. "

"I. .. . Placed before him--"

"Yes, Arsène Lupin or Horace Velmont--same thing. "

"I thought so. Ah! the scoundrel!"

"Now, let us see, " said Holmes, "last night at ten o'clock, youfurnished Lupin with the information that he lacked, and that he hadbeen seeking for many weeks. During the night, he found time to solvethe problem, collect his men, and rob the castle. I shall be quite asexpeditious. "

He walked from end to end of the room, in deep thought, then sat down, crossed his long legs and closed his eyes. 

Devanne waited, quite embarrassed. Thought he: "Is the man asleep? Or ishe only meditating?" However, he left the room to give some orders, andwhen he returned he found the detective on his knees scrutinizing thecarpet at the foot of the stairs in the gallery. 

"What is it?" he enquired. 

"Look. .. . There. .. . Spots from a candle. "

"You are right--and quite fresh. "

"And you will also find them at the top of the stairs, and aroundthe cabinet that Arsène Lupin broke into, and from which he took thebibelots that he afterward placed in this armchair. "

"What do you conclude from that?"

"Nothing. These facts would doubtless explain the cause for therestitution, but that is a side issue that I cannot wait to investigate. The main question is the secret passage. First, tell me, is there achapel some two or three hundred metres from the castle?"

"Yes, a ruined chapel, containing the tomb of Duke Rollo. "

"Tell your chauffer to wait for us near that chapel. "

"My chauffer hasn't returned. If he had, they would have informed me. Doyou think the secret passage runs to the chapel? What reason have--"

"I would ask you, monsieur, " interrupted the detective, "to furnish mewith a ladder and a lantern. "

"What! do you require a ladder and a lantern?"

"Certainly, or I shouldn't have asked for them. "

Devanne, somewhat disconcerted by this crude logic, rang the bell. Thetwo articles were given with the sternness and precision of militarycommands. 

"Place the ladder against the bookcase, to the left of the wordThibermesnil. "

Devanne placed the ladder as directed, and the Englishman continued:

"More to the left. .. . To the right. .. . There!. .. . Now, climb up. .. . All theletters are in relief, aren't they?"

"Yes. "

"First, turn the letter I one way or the other. "

"Which one? There are two of them. "

"The first one. "

Devanne took hold of the letter, and exclaimed:

"Ah! yes, it turns toward the right. Who told you that?"

Sherlock Holmes did not reply to the question, but continued hisdirections:

"Now, take the letter B. Move it back and forth as you would a bolt. "

Devanne did so, and, to his great surprise, it produced a clickingsound. 

"Quite right, " said Holmes. "Now, we will go to the other end of theword Thibermesnil, try the letter I, and see if it will open like awicket. "

With a certain degree of solemnity, Devanne seized the letter. Itopened, but Devanne fell from the ladder, for the entire section of thebookcase, lying between the first and last letters of the words, turnedon a picot and disclosed the subterranean passage. 

Sherlock Holmes said, coolly:

"You are not hurt?"

"No, no, " said Devanne, as he rose to his feet, "not hurt, onlybewildered. I can't understand now. .. . Those letters turn. .. . The secretpassage opens. .. . "

"Certainly. Doesn't that agree exactly with the formula given by Sully?Turn one eye on the bee that shakes, the other eye will lead to God. "

"But Louis the sixteenth?" asked Devanne. 

"Louis the sixteenth was a clever locksmith. I have read a book he wroteabout combination locks. It was a good idea on the part of the owner ofThibermesnil to show His Majesty a clever bit of mechanism. As an aidto his memory, the king wrote: 3-4-11, that is to say, the third, fourthand eleventh letters of the word. "

"Exactly. I understand that. It explains how Lupin got out of the room, but it does not explain how he entered. And it is certain he came fromthe outside. "

Sherlock Holmes lighted his lantern, and stepped into the passage. 

"Look! All the mechanism is exposed here, like the works of a clock, and the reverse side of the letters can be reached. Lupin worked thecombination from this side--that is all. "

"What proof is there of that?"

"Proof? Why, look at that puddle of oil. Lupin foresaw that the wheelswould require oiling. "

"Did he know about the other entrance?"

"As well as I know it, " said Holmes. "Follow me. "

"Into that dark passage?"

"Are you afraid?"

"No, but are you sure you can find the way out?"

"With my eyes closed. "

At first, they descended twelve steps, then twelve more, and, fartheron, two other flights of twelve steps each. Then they walked through along passageway, the brick walls of which showed the marks of successiverestorations, and, in spots, were dripping with water. The earth, also, was very damp. 

"We are passing under the pond, " said Devanne, somewhat nervously. 

At last, they came to a stairway of twelve steps, followed by threeothers of twelve steps each, which they mounted with difficulty, andthen found themselves in a small cavity cut in the rock. They could gono further. 

"The deuce!" muttered Holmes, "nothing but bare walls. This isprovoking. "

"Let us go back, " said Devanne. "I have seen enough to satisfy me. "

But the Englishman raised his eye and uttered a sigh of relief. There, he saw the same mechanism and the same word as before. He had merely towork the three letters. He did so, and a block of granite swung out ofplace. On the other side, this granite block formed the tombstone ofDuke Rollo, and the word "Thibermesnil" was engraved on it in relief. Now, they were in the little ruined chapel, and the detective said:

"The other eye leads to God; that means, to the chapel. "

"It is marvelous!" exclaimed Devanne, amazed at the clairvoyance andvivacity of the Englishman. "Can it be possible that those few wordswere sufficient for you?"

"Bah!" declared Holmes, "they weren't even necessary. In the chart inthe book of the National Library, the drawing terminates at the left, asyou know, in a circle, and at the right, as you do not know, in a cross. Now, that cross must refer to the chapel in which we now stand. "

Poor Devanne could not believe his ears. It was all so new, so novel tohim. He exclaimed:

"It is incredible, miraculous, and yet of a childish simplicity! How isit that no one has ever solved the mystery?"

"Because no one has ever united the essential elements, that is tosay, the two books and the two sentences. No one, but Arsène Lupin andmyself. "

"But, Father Gélis and I knew all about those things, and, likewise--"

Holmes smiled, and said:

"Monsieur Devanne, everybody cannot solve riddles. "

"I have been trying for ten years to accomplish what you did in tenminutes. "

"Bah! I am used to it. "

They emerged from the chapel, and found an automobile. 

"Ah! there's an auto waiting for us. "

"Yes, it is mine, " said Devanne. 

"Yours? You said your chauffeur hadn't returned. "

They approached the machine, and Mon. Devanne questioned the chauffer:

"Edouard, who gave you orders to come here?"

"Why, it was Monsieur Velmont. "

"Mon. Velmont? Did you meet him?"

"Near the railway station, and he told me to come to the chapel. "

"To come to the chapel! What for?"

"To wait for you, monsieur, and your friend. "

Devanne and Holmes exchanged looks, and Mon. Devanne said:

"He knew the mystery would be a simple one for you. It is a delicatecompliment. "

A smile of satisfaction lighted up the detective's serious features fora moment. The compliment pleased him. He shook his head, as he said:

"A clever man! I knew that when I saw him. "

"Have you seen him?"

"I met him a short time ago--on my way from the station. "

"And you knew it was Horace Velmont--I mean, Arsène Lupin?"

"That is right. I wonder how it came--"

"No, but I supposed it was--from a certain ironical speech he made. "

"And you allowed him to escape?"

"Of course I did. And yet I had everything on my side, such as fivegendarmes who passed us. "

"Sacrableu!" cried Devanne. "You should have taken advantage of theopportunity. "

"Really, monsieur, " said the Englishman, haughtily, "when I encounteran adversary like Arsène Lupin, I do not take advantage of chanceopportunities, I create them. "

But time pressed, and since Lupin had been so kind as to send theautomobile, they resolved to profit by it. They seated themselves inthe comfortable limousine; Edouard took his place at the wheel, and awaythey went toward the railway station. Suddenly, Devanne's eyes fell upona small package in one of the pockets of the carriage. 

"Ah! what is that? A package! Whose is it? Why, it is for you. "

"For me?"

"Yes, it is addressed: Sherlock Holmes, from Arsène Lupin. "

The Englishman took the package, opened it, and found that it containeda watch. 

"Ah!" he exclaimed, with an angry gesture. 

"A watch, " said Devanne. "How did it come there?"

The detective did not reply. 

"Oh! it is your watch! Arsène Lupin returns your watch! But, in order toreturn it, he must have taken it. Ah! I see! He took your watch! Thatis a good one! Sherlock Holmes' watch stolen by Arsène Lupin! Mon Dieu!that is funny! Really. .. . You must excuse me. .. . I can't help it. "

He roared with laughter, unable to control himself. After which, hesaid, in a tone of earnest conviction:

"A clever man, indeed!"

The Englishman never moved a muscle. On the way to Dieppe, he neverspoke a word, but fixed his gaze on the flying landscape. His silencewas terrible, unfathomable, more violent than the wildest rage. At therailway station, he spoke calmly, but in a voice that impressed one withthe vast energy and will power of that famous man. He said:

"Yes, he is a clever man, but some day I shall have the pleasure ofplacing on his shoulder the hand I now offer to you, Monsieur Devanne. And I believe that Arsène Lupin and Sherlock Holmes will meet againsome day. Yes, the world is too small--we will meet--we must meet--andthen--"

 *****--The further startling and thrilling adventures of Arsène Lupin will befound in the book entitled "Arsène Lupin versus Herlock Sholmes. "--