[Illustration: "_Suddenly he rushed at her and caught her by the arm_"]

 THE INTERNATIONAL ADVENTURE LIBRARY

 THREE OWLS EDITION

 THE CONFESSIONS OF ARSÈNE LUPIN

 An Adventure Story

 BY MAURICE LEBLANC Author of "Arsène Lupin"

 W. R. CALDWELL & CO. NEW YORK

 _Copyright, 1912, 1913, by_ Maurice Leblanc

 _All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian_

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND FRANCS REWARD! 1

 II. THE WEDDING-RING 36

 III. THE SIGN OF THE SHADOW 66

 IV. THE INFERNAL TRAP 101

 V. THE RED SILK SCARF 138

 VI. SHADOWED BY DEATH 177

 VII. A TRAGEDY IN THE FOREST OF MORGUES 210

 VIII. LUPIN'S MARRIAGE 228

 IX. THE INVISIBLE PRISONER 266

 X. EDITH SWAN-NECK 291

THE CONFESSIONS OF ARSÈNE LUPIN

THE CONFESSIONS OF ARSÈNE LUPIN

I

TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND FRANCS REWARD!. .. 

"Lupin, " I said, "tell me something about yourself. "

"Why, what would you have me tell you? Everybody knows my life!" repliedLupin, who lay drowsing on the sofa in my study. 

"Nobody knows it!" I protested. "People know from your letters in thenewspapers that you were mixed up in this case, that you started thatcase. But the part which you played in it all, the plain facts of thestory, the upshot of the mystery: these are things of which they knownothing. "

"Pooh! A heap of uninteresting twaddle!"

"What! Your present of fifty thousand francs to Nicolas Dugrival's wife!Do you call that uninteresting? And what about the way in which yousolved the puzzle of the three pictures?"

Lupin laughed:

"Yes, that was a queer puzzle, certainly. I can suggest a title for youif you like: what do you say to _The Sign of the Shadow_?"

"And your successes in society and with the fair sex?" I continued. "Thedashing Arsène's love-affairs!. .. And the clue to your good actions?Those chapters in your life to which you have so often alluded under thenames of _The Wedding-ring_, _Shadowed by Death_, and so on!. .. Whydelay these confidences and confessions, my dear Lupin?. .. Come, do whatI ask you!. .. "

It was at the time when Lupin, though already famous, had not yet foughthis biggest battles; the time that preceded the great adventures of _TheHollow Needle_ and _813_. He had not yet dreamt of annexing theaccumulated treasures of the French Royal House[A] nor of changing themap of Europe under the Kaiser's nose[B]: he contented himself withmilder surprises and humbler profits, making his daily effort, doingevil from day to day and doing a little good as well, naturally and forthe love of the thing, like a whimsical and compassionate Don Quixote. 

 [A] _The Hollow Needle. _ By Maurice Leblanc. Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos (Eveleigh Nash). 

 [B] _813. _ By Maurice Leblanc. Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos (Mills & Boon). 

He was silent; and I insisted:

"Lupin, I wish you would!"

To my astonishment, he replied:

"Take a sheet of paper, old fellow, and a pencil. "

I obeyed with alacrity, delighted at the thought that he at last meantto dictate to me some of those pages which he knows how to clothe withsuch vigour and fancy, pages which I, unfortunately, am obliged to spoilwith tedious explanations and boring developments. 

"Are you ready?" he asked. 

"Quite. "

"Write down, 20, 1, 11, 5, 14, 15. "

"What?"

"Write it down, I tell you. "

He was now sitting up, with his eyes turned to the open window and hisfingers rolling a Turkish cigarette. He continued:

"Write down, 21, 14, 14, 5. .. . "

He stopped. Then he went on:

"3, 5, 19, 19 . .. "

And, after a pause:

"5, 18, 25 . .. "

Was he mad? I looked at him hard and, presently, I saw that his eyeswere no longer listless, as they had been a little before, but keen andattentive and that they seemed to be watching, somewhere, in space, asight that apparently captivated them. 

Meanwhile, he dictated, with intervals between each number:

"18, 9, 19, 11, 19 . .. "

There was hardly anything to be seen through the window but a patch ofblue sky on the right and the front of the building opposite, an oldprivate house, whose shutters were closed as usual. There was nothingparticular about all this, no detail that struck me as new among thosewhich I had had before my eyes for years. .. . 

"1, 2. .. . "

And suddenly I understood . .. Or rather I thought I understood, for howcould I admit that Lupin, a man so essentially level-headed under hismask of frivolity, could waste his time upon such childish nonsense?What he was counting was the intermittent flashes of a ray of sunlightplaying on the dingy front of the opposite house, at the height of thesecond floor!

"15, 22 . .. " said Lupin. 

The flash disappeared for a few seconds and then struck the house again, successively, at regular intervals, and disappeared once more. 

I had instinctively counted the flashes and I said, aloud:

"5. .. . "

"Caught the idea? I congratulate you!" he replied, sarcastically. 

He went to the window and leant out, as though to discover the exactdirection followed by the ray of light. Then he came and lay on the sofaagain, saying:

"It's your turn now. Count away!"

The fellow seemed so positive that I did as he told me. Besides, I couldnot help confessing that there was something rather curious about theordered frequency of those gleams on the front of the house opposite, those appearances and disappearances, turn and turn about, like so manyflash signals. 

They obviously came from a house on our side of the street, for the sunwas entering my windows slantwise. It was as though some one werealternately opening and shutting a casement, or, more likely, amusinghimself by making sunlight flashes with a pocket-mirror. 

"It's a child having a game!" I cried, after a moment or two, feeling alittle irritated by the trivial occupation that had been thrust upon me. 

"Never mind, go on!"

And I counted away. .. . And I put down rows of figures. .. . And the suncontinued to play in front of me, with mathematical precision. 

"Well?" said Lupin, after a longer pause than usual. 

"Why, it seems finished. .. . There has been nothing for someminutes. .. . "

We waited and, as no more light flashed through space, I said, jestingly:

"My idea is that we have been wasting our time. A few figures on paper:a poor result!"

Lupin, without stirring from his sofa, rejoined:

"Oblige me, old chap, by putting in the place of each of those numbersthe corresponding letter of the alphabet. Count A as 1, B as 2 and soon. Do you follow me?"

"But it's idiotic!"

"Absolutely idiotic, but we do such a lot of idiotic things in thislife. .. . One more or less, you know!. .. "

I sat down to this silly work and wrote out the first letters:

 "_Take no. .. . _"

I broke off in surprise:

"Words!" I exclaimed. "Two English words meaning. .. . "

"Go on, old chap. "

And I went on and the next letters formed two more words, which Iseparated as they appeared. And, to my great amazement, a completeEnglish sentence lay before my eyes. 

"Done?" asked Lupin, after a time. 

"Done!. .. By the way, there are mistakes in the spelling. .. . "

"Never mind those and read it out, please. .. . Read slowly. "

Thereupon I read out the following unfinished communication, which Iwill set down as it appeared on the paper in front of me:

 "_Take no unnecessery risks. Above all, avoid atacks, approach ennemy with great prudance and. .. . _"

I began to laugh:

"And there you are! _Fiat lux!_ We're simply dazed with light! But, after all, Lupin, confess that this advice, dribbled out by akitchen-maid, doesn't help you much!"

Lupin rose, without breaking his contemptuous silence, and took thesheet of paper. 

I remembered soon after that, at this moment, I happened to look at theclock. It was eighteen minutes past five. 

Lupin was standing with the paper in his hand; and I was able at my easeto watch, on his youthful features, that extraordinary mobility ofexpression which baffles all observers and constitutes his greatstrength and his chief safeguard. By what signs can one hope to identifya face which changes at pleasure, even without the help of make-up, andwhose every transient expression seems to be the final, definiteexpression?. .. By what signs? There was one which I knew well, aninvariable sign: Two little crossed wrinkles that marked his foreheadwhenever he made a powerful effort of concentration. And I saw it atthat moment, saw the tiny tell-tale cross, plainly and deeply scored. 

He put down the sheet of paper and muttered:

"Child's play!"

The clock struck half-past five. 

"What!" I cried. "Have you succeeded?. .. In twelve minutes?. .. "

He took a few steps up and down the room, lit a cigarette and said:

"You might ring up Baron Repstein, if you don't mind, and tell him Ishall be with him at ten o'clock this evening. "

"Baron Repstein?" I asked. "The husband of the famous baroness?"

"Yes. "

"Are you serious?"

"Quite serious. "

Feeling absolutely at a loss, but incapable of resisting him, I openedthe telephone-directory and unhooked the receiver. But, at that moment, Lupin stopped me with a peremptory gesture and said, with his eyes onthe paper, which he had taken up again:

"No, don't say anything. .. . It's no use letting him know. .. . There'ssomething more urgent . .. A queer thing that puzzles me. .. . Why onearth wasn't the last sentence finished? Why is the sentence. .. . "

He snatched up his hat and stick:

"Let's be off. If I'm not mistaken, this is a business that requiresimmediate solution; and I don't believe I _am_ mistaken. "

He put his arm through mine, as we went down the stairs, and said:

"I know what everybody knows. Baron Repstein, the company-promoter andracing-man, whose colt Etna won the Derby and the Grand Prix this year, has been victimized by his wife. The wife, who was well known for herfair hair, her dress and her extravagance, ran away a fortnight ago, taking with her a sum of three million francs, stolen from her husband, and quite a collection of diamonds, pearls and jewellery which thePrincesse de Berny had placed in her hands and which she was supposed tobuy. For two weeks the police have been pursuing the baroness acrossFrance and the continent: an easy job, as she scatters gold and jewelswherever she goes. They think they have her every moment. Two days ago, our champion detective, the egregious Ganimard, arrested a visitor at abig hotel in Belgium, a woman against whom the most positive evidenceseemed to be heaped up. On enquiry, the lady turned out to be anotorious chorus-girl called Nelly Darbal. As for the baroness, she hasvanished. The baron, on his side, has offered a reward of two hundredthousand francs to whosoever finds his wife. The money is in the handsof a solicitor. Moreover, he has sold his racing-stud, his house on theBoulevard Haussmann and his country-seat of Roquencourt in one lump, sothat he may indemnify the Princesse de Berny for her loss. "

"And the proceeds of the sale, " I added, "are to be paid over at once. The papers say that the princess will have her money to-morrow. Only, frankly, I fail to see the connection between this story, which you havetold very well, and the puzzling sentence. .. . "

Lupin did not condescend to reply. 

We had been walking down the street in which I live and had passed somefour or five houses, when he stepped off the pavement and began toexamine a block of flats, not of the latest construction, which lookedas if it contained a large number of tenants:

"According to my calculations, " he said, "this is where the signals camefrom, probably from that open window. "

"On the third floor?"

"Yes. "

He went to the portress and asked her:

"Does one of your tenants happen to be acquainted with Baron Repstein?"

"Why, of course!" replied the woman. "We have M. Lavernoux here, such anice gentleman; he is the baron's secretary and agent. I look after hisflat. "

"And can we see him?"

"See him?. .. The poor gentleman is very ill. "

"Ill?"

"He's been ill a fortnight . .. Ever since the trouble with thebaroness. .. . He came home the next day with a temperature and took tohis bed. "

"But he gets up, surely?"

"Ah, that I can't say!"

"How do you mean, you can't say?"

"No, his doctor won't let any one into his room. He took my key fromme. "

"Who did?"

"The doctor. He comes and sees to his wants, two or three times a day. He left the house only twenty minutes ago . .. An old gentleman with agrey beard and spectacles. .. . Walks quite bent. .. . But where are yougoing sir?"

"I'm going up, show me the way, " said Lupin, with his foot on thestairs. "It's the third floor, isn't it, on the left?"

"But I mustn't!" moaned the portress, running after him. "Besides, Ihaven't the key . .. The doctor. .. . "

They climbed the three flights, one behind the other. On the landing, Lupin took a tool from his pocket and, disregarding the woman'sprotests, inserted it in the lock. The door yielded almost immediately. We went in. 

At the back of a small dark room we saw a streak of light filteringthrough a door that had been left ajar. Lupin ran across the room and, on reaching the threshold, gave a cry:

"Too late! Oh, hang it all!"

The portress fell on her knees, as though fainting. 

I entered the bedroom, in my turn, and saw a man lying half-dressed onthe carpet, with his legs drawn up under him, his arms contorted and hisface quite white, an emaciated, fleshless face, with the eyes stillstaring in terror and the mouth twisted into a hideous grin. 

"He's dead, " said Lupin, after a rapid examination. 

"But why?" I exclaimed. "There's not a trace of blood!"

"Yes, yes, there is, " replied Lupin, pointing to two or three drops thatshowed on the chest, through the open shirt. "Look, they must have takenhim by the throat with one hand and pricked him to the heart with theother. I say, 'pricked, ' because really the wound can't be seen. Itsuggests a hole made by a very long needle. "

[Illustration: "_Lupin took a tool from his pocket . .. And inserted itin the lock_"]

He looked on the floor, all round the corpse. There was nothing toattract his attention, except a little pocket-mirror, the little mirrorwith which M. Lavernoux had amused himself by making the sunbeams dancethrough space. 

But, suddenly, as the portress was breaking into lamentations andcalling for help, Lupin flung himself on her and shook her:

"Stop that!. .. Listen to me . .. You can call out later. .. . Listen to meand answer me. It is most important. M. Lavernoux had a friend living inthis street, had he not? On the same side, to the right? An intimatefriend?"

"Yes. "

"A friend whom he used to meet at the café in the evening and with whomhe exchanged the illustrated papers?"

"Yes. "

"Was the friend an Englishman?"

"Yes. "

"What's his name?"

"Mr. Hargrove. "

"Where does he live?"

"At No. 92 in this street. "

"One word more: had that old doctor been attending him long?"

"No. I did not know him. He came on the evening when M. Lavernoux wastaken ill. "

Without another word, Lupin dragged me away once more, ran down thestairs and, once in the street, turned to the right, which took us pastmy flat again. Four doors further, he stopped at No. 92, a small, low-storied house, of which the ground-floor was occupied by theproprietor of a dram-shop, who stood smoking in his doorway, next to theentrance-passage. Lupin asked if Mr. Hargrove was at home. 

"Mr. Hargrove went out about half-an-hour ago, " said the publican. "Heseemed very much excited and took a taxi-cab, a thing he doesn't oftendo. "

"And you don't know. .. . "

"Where he was going? Well, there's no secret about it He shouted it loudenough! 'Prefecture of Police' is what he said to the driver. .. . "

Lupin was himself just hailing a taxi, when he changed his mind; and Iheard him mutter:

"What's the good? He's got too much start of us. .. . "

He asked if any one called after Mr. Hargrove had gone. 

"Yes, an old gentleman with a grey beard and spectacles. He went up toMr. Hargrove's, rang the bell, and went away again. "

"I am much obliged, " said Lupin, touching his hat. 

He walked away slowly without speaking to me, wearing a thoughtful air. There was no doubt that the problem struck him as very difficult, andthat he saw none too clearly in the darkness through which he seemed tobe moving with such certainty. 

He himself, for that matter, confessed to me:

"These are cases that require much more intuition than reflection. Butthis one, I may tell you, is well worth taking pains about. "

We had now reached the boulevards. Lupin entered a public reading-roomand spent a long time consulting the last fortnight's newspapers. Nowand again, he mumbled:

"Yes . .. Yes . .. Of course . .. It's only a guess, but it explainseverything. .. . Well, a guess that answers every question is not far frombeing the truth. .. . "

It was now dark. We dined at a little restaurant and I noticed thatLupin's face became gradually more animated. His gestures were moredecided. He recovered his spirits, his liveliness. When we left, duringthe walk which he made me take along the Boulevard Haussmann, towardsBaron Repstein's house, he was the real Lupin of the great occasions, the Lupin who had made up his mind to go in and win. 

We slackened our pace just short of the Rue de Courcelles. BaronRepstein lived on the left-hand side, between this street and theFaubourg Saint-Honoré, in a three-storied private house of which wecould see the front, decorated with columns and caryatides. 

"Stop!" said Lupin, suddenly. 

"What is it?"

"Another proof to confirm my supposition. .. . "

"What proof? I see nothing. "

"I do. .. . That's enough. .. . "

He turned up the collar of his coat, lowered the brim of his soft hatand said:

"By Jove, it'll be a stiff fight! Go to bed, my friend. I'll tell youabout my expedition to-morrow . .. If it doesn't cost me my life. "

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I know what I'm saying! I'm risking a lot. First of all, gettingarrested, which isn't much. Next, getting killed, which is worse. But. .. . " He gripped my shoulder. "But there's a third thing I'm risking, which is getting hold of two millions. .. . And, once I possess a capitalof two millions, I'll show people what I can do! Good-night, old chap, and, if you never see me again. .. . " He spouted Musset's lines:

 "Plant a willow by my grave, The weeping willow that I love. .. . "

I walked away. Three minutes later--I am continuing the narrative as hetold it to me next day--three minutes later, Lupin rang at the door ofthe Hôtel Repstein. 

 * * * * *

"Is monsieur le baron at home?"

"Yes, " replied the butler, examining the intruder with an air ofsurprise, "but monsieur le baron does not see people as late as this. "

"Does monsieur le baron know of the murder of M. Lavernoux, hisland-agent?"

"Certainly. "

"Well, please tell monsieur le baron that I have come about the murderand that there is not a moment to lose. "

A voice called from above:

"Show the gentleman up, Antoine. "

In obedience to this peremptory order, the butler led the way to thefirst floor. In an open doorway stood a gentleman whom Lupin recognizedfrom his photograph in the papers as Baron Repstein, husband of thefamous baroness and owner of Etna, the horse of the year. 

He was an exceedingly tall, square-shouldered man. His clean-shaven facewore a pleasant, almost smiling expression, which was not affected bythe sadness of his eyes. He was dressed in a well-cut morning-coat, witha tan waistcoat and a dark tie fastened with a pearl pin, the value ofwhich struck Lupin as considerable. 

He took Lupin into his study, a large, three-windowed room, lined withbook-cases, sets of pigeonholes, an American desk and a safe. And he atonce asked, with ill-concealed eagerness:

"Do you know anything?"

"Yes, monsieur le baron. "

"About the murder of that poor Lavernoux?"

"Yes, monsieur le baron, and about madame le baronne also. "

"Do you really mean it? Quick, I entreat you. .. . "

He pushed forward a chair. Lupin sat down and began:

"Monsieur le baron, the circumstances are very serious. I will bebrief. "

"Yes, do, please. "

"Well, monsieur le baron, in a few words, it amounts to this: five orsix hours ago, Lavernoux, who, for the last fortnight, had been kept ina sort of enforced confinement by his doctor, Lavernoux--how shall I putit?--telegraphed certain revelations by means of signals which werepartly taken down by me and which put me on the track of this case. Hehimself was surprised in the act of making this communication and wasmurdered. "

"But by whom? By whom?"

"By his doctor. "

"Who is this doctor?"

"I don't know. But one of M. Lavernoux's friends, an Englishman calledHargrove, the friend, in fact, with whom he was communicating, is boundto know and is also bound to know the exact and complete meaning of thecommunication, because, without waiting for the end, he jumped into amotor-cab and drove to the Prefecture of Police. "

"Why? Why?. .. And what is the result of that step?"

"The result, monsieur le baron, is that your house is surrounded. Thereare twelve detectives under your windows. The moment the sun rises, theywill enter in the name of the law and arrest the criminal. "

"Then is Lavernoux's murderer concealed in my house? Who is he? One ofthe servants? But no, for you were speaking of a doctor!. .. "

"I would remark, monsieur le baron, that when this Mr. Hargrove went tothe police to tell them of the revelations made by his friend Lavernoux, he was not aware that his friend Lavernoux was going to be murdered. Thestep taken by Mr Hargrove had to do with something else. .. . "

"With what?"

"With the disappearance of madame la baronne, of which he knew thesecret, thanks to the communication made by Lavernoux. "

"What! They know at last! They have found the baroness! Where is she?And the jewels? And the money she robbed me of?"

Baron Repstein was talking in a great state of excitement. He rose and, almost shouting at Lupin, cried:

"Finish your story, sir! I can't endure this suspense!"

Lupin continued, in a slow and hesitating voice:

"The fact is . .. You see . .. It is rather difficult to explain . .. Foryou and I are looking at the thing from a totally different point ofview. "

"I don't understand. "

"And yet you ought to understand, monsieur le baron. .. . We begin bysaying--I am quoting the newspapers--by saying, do we not, that BaronessRepstein knew all the secrets of your business and that she was able toopen not only that safe over there, but also the one at the CréditLyonnais in which you kept your securities locked up?"

"Yes. "

"Well, one evening, a fortnight ago, while you were at your club, Baroness Repstein, who, unknown to yourself, had converted all thosesecurities into cash, left this house with a travelling-bag, containingyour money and all the Princesse de Berny's jewels?"

"Yes. "

"And, since then, she has not been seen?"

"No. "

"Well, there is an excellent reason why she has not been seen. "

"What reason?"

"This, that Baroness Repstein has been murdered. .. . "

"Murdered!. .. The baroness!. .. But you're mad!"

"Murdered . .. And probably that same evening. "

"I tell you again, you are mad! How can the baroness have been murdered, when the police are following her tracks, so to speak, step by step?"

"They are following the tracks of another woman. "

"What woman?"

"The murderer's accomplice. "

"And who is the murderer?"

"The same man who, for the last fortnight, knowing that Lavernoux, through the situation which he occupied in this house, had discoveredthe truth, kept him imprisoned, forced him to silence, threatened him, terrorized him; the same man who, finding Lavernoux in the act ofcommunicating with a friend, made away with him in cold blood bystabbing him to the heart. "

"The doctor, therefore?"

"Yes. "

"But who is this doctor? Who is this malevolent genius, this infernalbeing who appears and disappears, who slays in the dark and whom nobodysuspects?"

"Can't you guess?"

"No. "

"And do you want to know?"

"Do I want to know?. .. Why, speak, man, speak!. .. You know where he ishiding?"

"Yes. "

"In this house?"

"Yes. "

"And it is he whom the police are after?"

"Yes. "

"And I know him?"

"Yes. "

"Who is it?"

"You!"

"I!. .. "

Lupin had not been more than ten minutes with the baron; and the duelwas commencing. The accusation was hurled, definitely, violently, implacably. 

Lupin repeated:

"You yourself, got up in a false beard and a pair of spectacles, bent intwo, like an old man. In short, you, Baron Repstein; and it is you fora very good reason, of which nobody has thought, which is that, if itwas not you who contrived the whole plot, the case becomes inexplicable. Whereas, taking you as the criminal, you as murdering the baroness inorder to get rid of her and run through those millions with anotherwoman, you as murdering Lavernoux, your agent, in order to suppress anunimpeachable witness, oh, then the whole case is explained! Well, is itpretty clear? And are not you yourself convinced?"

The baron, who, throughout this conversation, had stood bending over hisvisitor, waiting for each of his words with feverish avidity, now drewhimself up and looked at Lupin as though he undoubtedly had to do with amadman. When Lupin had finished speaking, the baron stepped back two orthree paces, seemed on the point of uttering words which he ended by notsaying, and then, without taking his eyes from his strange visitor, wentto the fireplace and rang the bell. 

Lupin did not make a movement. He waited smiling. 

The butler entered. His master said:

"You can go to bed, Antoine. I will let this gentleman out. "

"Shall I put out the lights, sir?"

"Leave a light in the hall. "

Antoine left the room and the baron, after taking a revolver from hisdesk, at once came back to Lupin, put the weapon in his pocket and said, very calmly:

"You must excuse this little precaution, sir. I am obliged to take it incase you should be mad, though that does not seem likely. No, you arenot mad. But you have come here with an object which I fail to grasp;and you have sprung upon me an accusation of so astounding a characterthat I am curious to know the reason. I have experienced so muchdisappointment and undergone so much suffering that an outrage of thiskind leaves me indifferent. Continue, please. "

His voice shook with emotion and his sad eyes seemed moist with tears. 

Lupin shuddered. Had he made a mistake? Was the surmise which hisintuition had suggested to him and which was based upon a frailgroundwork of slight facts, was this surmise wrong?

His attention was caught by a detail: through the opening in the baron'swaistcoat he saw the point of the pin fixed in the tie and was thus ableto realize the unusual length of the pin. Moreover, the gold stem wastriangular and formed a sort of miniature dagger, very thin and verydelicate, yet formidable in an expert hand. 

And Lupin had no doubt but that the pin attached to that magnificentpearl was the weapon which had pierced the heart of the unfortunate M. Lavernoux. 

He muttered:

"You're jolly clever, monsieur le baron!"

The other, maintaining a rather scornful gravity, kept silence, asthough he did not understand and as though waiting for the explanationto which he felt himself entitled. And, in spite of everything, thisimpassive attitude worried Arsène Lupin. Nevertheless, his convictionwas so profound and, besides, he had staked so much on the adventurethat he repeated:

"Yes, jolly clever, for it is evident that the baroness only obeyed yourorders in realizing your securities and also in borrowing the princess'sjewels on the pretence of buying them. And it is evident that the personwho walked out of your house with a bag was not your wife, but anaccomplice, that chorus-girl probably, and that it is your chorus-girlwho is deliberately allowing herself to be chased across the continentby our worthy Ganimard. And I look upon the trick as marvellous. Whatdoes the woman risk, seeing that it is the baroness who is being lookedfor? And how could they look for any other woman than the baroness, seeing that you have promised a reward of two hundred thousand francs tothe person who finds the baroness?. .. Oh, that two hundred thousandfrancs lodged with a solicitor: what a stroke of genius! It has dazzledthe police! It has thrown dust in the eyes of the most clear-sighted! Agentleman who lodges two hundred thousand francs with a solicitor is agentleman who speaks the truth. .. . So they go on hunting the baroness!And they leave you quietly to settle your affairs, to sell your stud andyour two houses to the highest bidder and to prepare your flight!Heavens, what a joke!"

The baron did not wince. He walked up to Lupin and asked, withoutabandoning his imperturbable coolness:

"Who are you?"

Lupin burst out laughing. 

"What can it matter who I am? Take it that I am an emissary of fate, looming out of the darkness for your destruction!"

He sprang from his chair, seized the baron by the shoulder and jerkedout:

"Yes, for your destruction, my bold baron! Listen to me! Your wife'sthree millions, almost all the princess's jewels, the money you receivedto-day from the sale of your stud and your real estate: it's all there, in your pocket, or in that safe. Your flight is prepared. Look, I cansee the leather of your portmanteau behind that hanging. The papers onyour desk are in order. This very night, you would have done a guy. This very night, disguised beyond recognition, after taking all yourprecautions, you would have joined your chorus-girl, the creature forwhose sake you have committed murder, that same Nelly Darbal, no doubt, whom Ganimard arrested in Belgium. But for one sudden, unforeseenobstacle: the police, the twelve detectives who, thanks to Lavernoux'srevelations, have been posted under your windows. They've cooked yourgoose, old chap!. .. Well, I'll save you. A word through the telephone;and, by three or four o'clock in the morning, twenty of my friends willhave removed the obstacle, polished off the twelve detectives, and youand I will slip away quietly. My conditions? Almost nothing; a trifle toyou: we share the millions and the jewels. Is it a bargain?"

He was leaning over the baron, thundering at him with irresistibleenergy. The baron whispered:

"I'm beginning to understand. It's blackmail. .. . "

"Blackmail or not, call it what you please, my boy, but you've got to gothrough with it and do as I say. And don't imagine that I shall give wayat the last moment. Don't say to yourself, 'Here's a gentleman whom thefear of the police will cause to think twice. If I run a big risk inrefusing, he also will be risking the handcuffs, the cells and the restof it, seeing that we are both being hunted down like wild beasts. ' Thatwould be a mistake, monsieur le baron. I can always get out of it. It'sa question of yourself, of yourself alone. .. . Your money or your life, my lord! Share and share alike . .. If not, the scaffold! Is it abargain?"

A quick movement. The baron released himself, grasped his revolver andfired. 

But Lupin was prepared for the attack, the more so as the baron's facehad lost its assurance and gradually, under the slow impulse of rage andfear, acquired an expression of almost bestial ferocity that heraldedthe rebellion so long kept under control. 

He fired twice. Lupin first flung himself to one side and then dived atthe baron's knees, seized him by both legs and brought him to theground. The baron freed himself with an effort. The two enemies rolledover in each other's grip; and a stubborn, crafty, brutal, savagestruggle followed. 

Suddenly, Lupin felt a pain at his chest:

"You villain!" he yelled. "That's your Lavernoux trick; the tie-pin!"

Stiffening his muscles with a desperate effort, he overpowered the baronand clutched him by the throat victorious at last and omnipotent. 

"You ass!" he cried. "If you hadn't shown your cards, I might havethrown up the game! You have such a look of the honest man about you!But what a biceps, my lord!. .. I thought for a moment. .. . But it's allover, now!. .. Come, my friend, hand us the pin and look cheerful. .. . No, that's what I call pulling a face. .. . I'm holding you too tight, perhaps? My lord's at his last gasp?. .. Come, be good!. .. That's it, just a wee bit of string round the wrists; do you allow me?. .. Why, youand I are agreeing like two brothers! It's touching!. .. At heart, youknow, I'm rather fond of you. .. . And now, my bonnie lad, mind yourself!And a thousand apologies!. .. "

Half raising himself, with all his strength he caught the other aterrible blow in the pit of the stomach. The baron gave a gurgle and laystunned and unconscious. 

"That comes of having a deficient sense of logic, my friend, " saidLupin. "I offered you half your money. Now I'll give you none at all . .. Provided I know where to find any of it. For that's the main thing. Where has the beggar hidden his dust? In the safe? By George, it'll be atough job! Luckily, I have all the night before me. .. . "

He began to feel in the baron's pockets, came upon a bunch of keys, first made sure that the portmanteau behind the curtain held no papersor jewels, and then went to the safe. 

But, at that moment, he stopped short: he heard a noise somewhere. Theservants? Impossible. Their attics were on the top floor. He listened. The noise came from below. And, suddenly, he understood: the detectives, who had heard the two shots, were banging at the front door, as wastheir duty, without waiting for daybreak. Then an electric bell rang, which Lupin recognized as that in the hall:

"By Jupiter!" he said. "Pretty work! Here are these jokers coming . .. And just as we were about to gather the fruits of our laborious efforts!Tut, tut, Lupin, keep cool! What's expected of you? To open a safe, ofwhich you don't know the secret, in thirty seconds. That's a mere trifleto lose your head about! Come, all you have to do is to discover thesecret! How many letters are there in the word? Four?"

He went on thinking, while talking and listening to the noise outside. He double-locked the door of the outer room and then came back to thesafe:

"Four ciphers. .. . Four letters . .. Four letters. .. . Who can lend me ahand?. .. Who can give me just a tiny hint?. .. Who? Why, Lavernoux, ofcourse! That good Lavernoux, seeing that he took the trouble to indulgein optical telegraphy at the risk of his life. .. . Lord, what a fool Iam!. .. Why, of course, why, of course, that's it!. .. By Jove, this istoo exciting!. .. Lupin, you must count ten and suppress that distractedbeating of your heart. If not, it means bad work. "

He counted ten and, now quite calm, knelt in front of the safe. Heturned the four knobs with careful attention. Next, he examined thebunch of keys, selected one of them, then another, and attempted, invain, to insert them in the lock:

"There's luck in odd numbers, " he muttered, trying a third key. "Victory! This is the right one! Open Sesame, good old Sesame, open!"

The lock turned. The door moved on its hinges. Lupin pulled it to him, after taking out the bunch of keys:

"The millions are ours, " he said. "Baron, I forgive you!"

And then he gave a single bound backward, hiccoughing with fright. Hislegs staggered beneath him. The keys jingled together in his feveredhand with a sinister sound. And, for twenty, for thirty seconds, despitethe din that was being raised and the electric bells that kept ringingthrough the house, he stood there, wild-eyed, gazing at the mosthorrible, the most abominable sight: a woman's body, half-dressed, bentin two in the safe, crammed in, like an over-large parcel . .. And fairhair hanging down . .. And blood . .. Clots of blood . .. And livid flesh, blue in places, decomposing, flaccid. 

"The baroness!" he gasped. "The baroness!. .. Oh, the monster!. .. "

He roused himself from his torpor, suddenly, to spit in the murderer'sface and pound him with his heels:

"Take that, you wretch!. .. Take that, you villain!. .. And, with it, thescaffold, the bran-basket!. .. "

Meanwhile, shouts came from the upper floors in reply to the detectives'ringing. Lupin heard footsteps scurrying down the stairs. It was time tothink of beating a retreat. 

In reality, this did not trouble him greatly. During his conversationwith the baron, the enemy's extraordinary coolness had given him thefeeling that there must be a private outlet. Besides, how could thebaron have begun the fight, if he were not sure of escaping the police?

Lupin went into the next room. It looked out on the garden. At themoment when the detectives were entering the house, he flung his legsover the balcony and let himself down by a rain-pipe. He walked roundthe building. On the opposite side was a wall lined with shrubs. Heslipped in between the shrubs and the wall and at once found a littledoor which he easily opened with one of the keys on the bunch. All thatremained for him to do was to walk across a yard and pass through theempty rooms of a lodge; and in a few moments he found himself in the Ruedu Faubourg Saint-Honoré. Of course--and this he had reckoned on--thepolice had not provided for this secret outlet. 

 * * * * *

"Well, what do you think of Baron Repstein?" cried Lupin, after givingme all the details of that tragic night. "What a dirty scoundrel! Andhow it teaches one to distrust appearances! I swear to you, the fellowlooked a thoroughly honest man!"

"But what about the millions?" I asked. "The princess's jewels?"

"They were in the safe. I remember seeing the parcel. "

"Well?"

"They are there still. "

"Impossible!"

"They are, upon my word! I might tell you that I was afraid of thedetectives, or else plead a sudden attack of delicacy. But the truth issimpler . .. And more prosaic: the smell was too awful!. .. "

"What?"

"Yes, my dear fellow, the smell that came from that safe . .. From thatcoffin. .. . No, I couldn't do it . .. My head swam. .. . Another second andI should have been ill. .. . Isn't it silly?. .. Look, this is all I gotfrom my expedition: the tie-pin. .. . The bed-rock value of the pearl isthirty thousand francs. .. . But all the same, I feel jolly well annoyed. What a sell!"

"One more question, " I said. "The word that opened the safe!"

"Well?"

"How did you guess it?"

"Oh, quite easily! In fact, I am surprised that I didn't think of itsooner. "

"Well, tell me. "

"It was contained in the revelations telegraphed by that poorLavernoux. "

"What?"

"Just think, my dear chap, the mistakes in spelling. .. . "

"The mistakes in spelling?"

"Why, of course! They were deliberate. Surely, you don't imagine thatthe agent, the private secretary of the baron--who was acompany-promoter, mind you, and a racing-man--did not know Englishbetter than to spell 'necessery' with an 'e, ' 'atack' with one 't, ''ennemy' with two 'n's' and 'prudance' with an 'a'! The thing struck meat once. I put the four letters together and got 'Etna, ' the name of thefamous horse. "

"And was that one word enough?"

"Of course! It was enough to start with, to put me on the scent of theRepstein case, of which all the papers were full, and, next, to make meguess that it was the key-word of the safe, because, on the one hand, Lavernoux knew the gruesome contents of the safe and, on the other, hewas denouncing the baron. And it was in the same way that I was led tosuppose that Lavernoux had a friend in the street, that they bothfrequented the same café, that they amused themselves by working out theproblems and cryptograms in the illustrated papers and that they hadcontrived a way of exchanging telegrams from window to window. "

"That makes it all quite simple!" I exclaimed. 

"Very simple. And the incident once more shows that, in the discovery ofcrimes, there is something much more valuable than the examination offacts, than observations, deductions, inferences and all that stuff andnonsense. What I mean is, as I said before, intuition . .. Intuition andintelligence. .. . And Arsène Lupin, without boasting, is deficient inneither one nor the other!. .. "

II

THE WEDDING-RING

Yvonne d'Origny kissed her son and told him to be good:

"You know your grandmother d'Origny is not very found of children. Nowthat she has sent for you to come and see her, you must show her what asensible little boy you are. " And, turning to the governess, "Don'tforget, Fräulein, to bring him home immediately after dinner. .. . Ismonsieur still in the house?"

"Yes, madame, monsieur le comte is in his study. "

As soon as she was alone, Yvonne d'Origny walked to the window to catcha glimpse of her son as he left the house. He was out in the street in amoment, raised his head and blew her a kiss, as was his custom everyday. Then the governess took his hand with, as Yvonne remarked to hersurprise, a movement of unusual violence. Yvonne leant further out ofthe window and, when the boy reached the corner of the boulevard, shesuddenly saw a man step out of a motor-car and go up to him. The man, inwhom she recognized Bernard, her husband's confidential servant, tookthe child by the arm, made both him and the governess get into the car, and ordered the chauffeur to drive off. 

The whole incident did not take ten seconds. 

Yvonne, in her trepidation, ran to her bedroom, seized a wrap and wentto the door. The door was locked; and there was no key in the lock. 

She hurried back to the boudoir. The door of the boudoir also waslocked. 

Then, suddenly, the image of her husband appeared before her, thatgloomy face which no smile ever lit up, those pitiless eyes in which, for years, she had felt so much hatred and malice. 

"It's he . .. It's he!" she said to herself. "He has taken the child. .. . Oh, it's horrible!"

She beat against the door with her fists, with her feet, then flew tothe mantelpiece and pressed the bell fiercely. 

The shrill sound rang through the house from top to bottom. The servantswould be sure to come. Perhaps a crowd would gather in the street. And, impelled by a sort of despairing hope, she kept her finger on thebutton. 

A key turned in the lock. .. . The door was flung wide open. The countappeared on the threshold of the boudoir. And the expression of hisface was so terrible that Yvonne began to tremble. 

He entered the room. Five or six steps separated him from her. With asupreme effort, she tried to stir, but all movement was impossible; and, when she attempted to speak, she could only flutter her lips and emitincoherent sounds. She felt herself lost. The thought of death unhingedher. Her knees gave way beneath her and she sank into a huddled heap, with a moan. 

The count rushed at her and seized her by the throat:

"Hold your tongue . .. Don't call out!" he said, in a low voice. "Thatwill be best for you!. .. "

Seeing that she was not attempting to defend herself, he loosened hishold of her and took from his pocket some strips of canvas ready rolledand of different lengths. In a few minutes, Yvonne was lying on a sofa, with her wrists and ankles bound and her arms fastened close to herbody. 

It was now dark in the boudoir. The count switched on the electric lightand went to a little writing-desk where Yvonne was accustomed to keepher letters. Not succeeding in opening it, he picked the lock with abent wire, emptied the drawers and collected all the contents into abundle, which he carried off in a cardboard file:

"Waste of time, eh?" he grinned. "Nothing but bills and letters of noimportance. .. . No proof against you. .. . Tah! I'll keep my son for allthat; and I swear before Heaven that I will not let him go!"

As he was leaving the room, he was joined, near the door, by his manBernard. The two stopped and talked, in a low voice; but Yvonne heardthese words spoken by the servant:

"I have had an answer from the working jeweller. He says he holdshimself at my disposal. "

And the count replied:

"The thing is put off until twelve o'clock midday, to-morrow. My motherhas just telephoned to say that she could not come before. "

Then Yvonne heard the key turn in the lock and the sound of steps goingdown to the ground-floor, where her husband's study was. 

She long lay inert, her brain reeling with vague, swift ideas that burnther in passing, like flames. She remembered her husband's infamousbehaviour, his humiliating conduct to her, his threats, his plans for adivorce; and she gradually came to understand that she was the victim ofa regular conspiracy, that the servants had been sent away until thefollowing evening by their master's orders, that the governess hadcarried off her son by the count's instructions and with Bernard'sassistance, that her son would not come back and that she would neversee him again. 

"My son!" she cried. "My son!. .. "

Exasperated by her grief, she stiffened herself, with every nerve, withevery muscle tense, to make a violent effort. And she was astonished tofind that her right hand, which the count had fastened too hurriedly, still retained a certain freedom. 

Then a mad hope invaded her; and, slowly, patiently, she began the workof self-deliverance. 

It was long in the doing. She needed a deal of time to widen the knotsufficiently and a deal of time afterward, when the hand was released, to undo those other bonds which tied her arms to her body and thosewhich fastened her ankles. 

Still, the thought of her son sustained her; and the last shackle fellas the clock struck eight. She was free!

She was no sooner on her feet than she flew to the window and flung backthe latch, with the intention of calling the first passer-by. At thatmoment a policeman came walking along the pavement. She leant out. Butthe brisk evening air, striking her face, calmed her. She thought of thescandal, of the judicial investigation, of the cross-examination, of herson. O Heaven! What could she do to get him back? How could she escape?The count might appear at the least sound. And who knew but that, in amoment of fury . .. ?

She shivered from head to foot, seized with a sudden terror. The horrorof death mingled, in her poor brain, with the thought of her son; andshe stammered, with a choking throat:

"Help!. .. Help!. .. "

She stopped and said to herself, several times over, in a low voice, "Help!. .. Help!. .. " as though the word awakened an idea, a memory withinher, and as though the hope of assistance no longer seemed to herimpossible. For some minutes she remained absorbed in deep meditation, broken by fears and starts. Then, with an almost mechanical series ofmovements, she put out her arm to a little set of shelves hanging overthe writing-desk, took down four books, one after the other, turned thepages with a distraught air, replaced them and ended by finding, betweenthe pages of the fifth, a visiting-card on which her eyes spelt thename:

 HORACE VELMONT, followed by an address written in pencil:

 CERCLE DE LA RUE ROYALE. 

And her memory conjured up the strange thing which that man had said toher, a few years before, in that same house, on a day when she was athome to her friends:

"If ever a danger threatens you, if you need help, do not hesitate; postthis card, which you see me put into this book; and, whatever the hour, whatever the obstacles, I will come. "

With what a curious air he had spoken these words and how well he hadconveyed the impression of certainty, of strength, of unlimited power, of indomitable daring!

Abruptly, unconsciously, acting under the impulse of an irresistibledetermination, the consequences of which she refused to anticipate, Yvonne, with the same automatic gestures, took a pneumatic-deliveryenvelope, slipped in the card, sealed it, directed it to "HoraceVelmont, Cercle de la Rue Royale" and went to the open window. Thepoliceman was walking up and down outside. She flung out the envelope, trusting to fate. Perhaps it would be picked up, treated as a lostletter and posted. 

She had hardly completed this act when she realized its absurdity. Itwas mad to suppose that the message would reach the address and madderstill to hope that the man to whom she was sending could come to herassistance, "whatever the hour, whatever the obstacles. "

A reaction followed which was all the greater inasmuch as the effort hadbeen swift and violent. Yvonne staggered, leant against a chair and, losing all energy, let herself fall. 

The hours passed by, the dreary hours of winter evenings when nothingbut the sound of carriages interrupts the silence of the street. Theclock struck, pitilessly. In the half-sleep that numbed her limbs, Yvonne counted the strokes. She also heard certain noises, on differentfloors of the house, which told her that her husband had dined, that hewas going up to his room, that he was going down again to his study. Butall this seemed very shadowy to her; and her torpor was such that shedid not even think of lying down on the sofa, in case he should comein. .. . 

The twelve strokes of midnight. .. . Then half-past twelve . .. Thenone. .. . Yvonne thought of nothing, awaiting the events which werepreparing and against which rebellion was useless. She pictured her sonand herself as one pictures those beings who have suffered much and whosuffer no more and who take each other in their loving arms. But anightmare shattered this dream. For now those two beings were to be tornasunder; and she had the awful feeling, in her delirium, that she wascrying and choking. .. . 

She leapt from her seat. The key had turned in the lock. The count wascoming, attracted by her cries. Yvonne glanced round for a weapon withwhich to defend herself. But the door was pushed back quickly and, astounded, as though the sight that presented itself before her eyesseemed to her the most inexplicable prodigy, she stammered:

"You!. .. You!. .. "

A man was walking up to her, in dress-clothes, with his opera-hat andcape under his arm, and this man, young, slender and elegant, she hadrecognized as Horace Velmont. 

"You!" she repeated. 

He said, with a bow:

"I beg your pardon, madame, but I did not receive your letter until verylate. "

"Is it possible? Is it possible that this is you . .. That you were ableto . .. ?"

He seemed greatly surprised:

"Did I not promise to come in answer to your call?"

"Yes . .. But . .. "

"Well, here I am, " he said, with a smile. 

He examined the strips of canvas from which Yvonne had succeeded infreeing herself and nodded his head, while continuing his inspection:

"So those are the means employed? The Comte d'Origny, I presume?. .. Ialso saw that he locked you in. .. . But then the pneumatic letter?. .. Ah, through the window!. .. How careless of you not to close it!"

He pushed both sides to. Yvonne took fright:

"Suppose they hear!"

"There is no one in the house. I have been over it. "

"Still . .. "

"Your husband went out ten minutes ago. "

"Where is he?"

"With his mother, the Comtesse d'Origny. "

"How do you know?"

"Oh, it's very simple! He was rung up by telephone and I awaited theresult at the corner of this street and the boulevard. As I expected, the count came out hurriedly, followed by his man. I at once entered, with the aid of special keys. "

He told this in the most natural way, just as one tells a meaninglessanecdote in a drawing-room. But Yvonne, suddenly seized with freshalarm, asked:

"Then it's not true?. .. His mother is not ill?. .. In that case, myhusband will be coming back. .. . "

"Certainly, the count will see that a trick has been played on him andin three quarters of an hour at the latest. .. . "

"Let us go. .. . I don't want him to find me here. .. . I must go to myson. .. . "

"One moment. .. . "

"One moment!. .. But don't you know that they have taken him from me?. .. That they are hurting him, perhaps?. .. "

With set face and feverish gestures, she tried to push Velmont back. He, with great gentleness, compelled her to sit down and, leaning over herin a respectful attitude, said, in a serious voice:

"Listen, madame, and let us not waste time, when every minute isvaluable. First of all, remember this: we met four times, six yearsago. .. . And, on the fourth occasion, when I was speaking to you, in thedrawing-room of this house, with too much--what shall I say?--with toomuch feeling, you gave me to understand that my visits were no longerwelcome. Since that day I have not seen you. And, nevertheless, in spiteof all, your faith in me was such that you kept the card which I putbetween the pages of that book and, six years later, you send for me andnone other. That faith in me I ask you to continue. You must obey meblindly. Just as I surmounted every obstacle to come to you, so I willsave you, whatever the position may be. "

Horace Velmont's calmness, his masterful voice, with the friendlyintonation, gradually quieted the countess. Though still very weak, shegained a fresh sense of ease and security in that man's presence. 

"Have no fear, " he went on. "The Comtesse d'Origny lives at the otherend of the Bois de Vincennes. Allowing that your husband finds amotor-cab, it is impossible for him to be back before a quarter-pastthree. Well, it is twenty-five to three now. I swear to take you away atthree o'clock exactly and to take you to your son. But I will not gobefore I know everything. "

"What am I to do?" she asked. 

"Answer me and very plainly. We have twenty minutes. It is enough. Butit is not too much. "

"Ask me what you want to know. "

"Do you think that the count had any . .. Any murderous intentions?"

"No. "

"Then it concerns your son?"

"Yes. "

"He is taking him away, I suppose, because he wants to divorce you andmarry another woman, a former friend of yours, whom you have turned outof your house. Is that it? Oh, I entreat you, answer me frankly! Theseare facts of public notoriety; and your hesitation, your scruples, mustall cease, now that the matter concerns your son. So your husband wishedto marry another woman?

"Yes. "

"The woman has no money. Your husband, on his side, has gambled awayall his property and has no means beyond the allowance which he receivesfrom his mother, the Comtesse d'Origny, and the income of a largefortune which your son inherited from two of your uncles. It is thisfortune which your husband covets and which he would appropriate moreeasily if the child were placed in his hands. There is only one way:divorce. Am I right?"

"Yes. "

"And what has prevented him until now is your refusal?"

"Yes, mine and that of my mother-in-law, whose religious feelings areopposed to divorce. The Comtesse d'Origny would only yield in case . .. "

"In case . .. ?"

"In case they could prove me guilty of shameful conduct. "

Velmont shrugged his shoulders:

"Therefore he is powerless to do anything against you or against yourson. Both from the legal point of view and from that of his owninterests, he stumbles against an obstacle which is the mostinsurmountable of all: the virtue of an honest woman. And yet, in spiteof everything, he suddenly shows fight. "

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, if a man like the count, after so many hesitations andin the face of so many difficulties, risks so doubtful an adventure, itmust be because he thinks he has command of weapons . .. "

"What weapons?"

"I don't know. But they exist . .. Or else he would not have begun bytaking away your son. "

Yvonne gave way to her despair:

"Oh, this is horrible!. .. How do I know what he may have done, what hemay have invented?"

"Try and think. .. . Recall your memories. .. . Tell me, in this desk whichhe has broken open, was there any sort of letter which he could possiblyturn against you?"

"No . .. Only bills and addresses. .. . "

"And, in the words he used to you, in his threats, is there nothing thatallows you to guess?"

"Nothing. "

"Still . .. Still, " Velmont insisted, "there must be something. " And hecontinued, "Has the count a particularly intimate friend . .. In whom heconfides?"

"No. "

"Did anybody come to see him yesterday?"

"No, nobody. "

"Was he alone when he bound you and locked you in?"

"At that moment, yes. "

"But afterward?"

"His man, Bernard, joined him near the door and I heard them talkingabout a working jeweller. .. . "

"Is that all?"

"And about something that was to happen the next day, that is, to-day, at twelve o'clock, because the Comtesse d'Origny could not comeearlier. "

Velmont reflected:

"Has that conversation any meaning that throws a light upon yourhusband's plans?"

"I don't see any. "

"Where are your jewels?"

"My husband has sold them all. "

"You have nothing at all left?"

"No. "

"Not even a ring?"

"No, " she said, showing her hands, "none except this. "

"Which is your wedding-ring?"

"Which is my . .. Wedding--. .. "

She stopped, nonplussed. Velmont saw her flush as she stammered:

"Could it be possible?. .. But no . .. No . .. He doesn't know. .. . "

Velmont at once pressed her with questions and Yvonne stood silent, motionless, anxious-faced. At last, she replied, in a low voice:

"This is not my wedding-ring. One day, long ago, it dropped from themantelpiece in my bedroom, where I had put it a minute before and, huntfor it as I might, I could not find it again. So I ordered another, without saying anything about it . .. And this is the one, on myhand. .. . "

"Did the real ring bear the date of your wedding?"

"Yes . .. The 23rd of October. "

"And the second?"

"This one has no date. "

He perceived a slight hesitation in her and a confusion which, in pointof fact, she did not try to conceal. 

"I implore you, " he exclaimed, "don't hide anything from me. .. . You seehow far we have gone in a few minutes, with a little logic andcalmness. .. . Let us go on, I ask you as a favour. "

"Are you sure, " she said, "that it is necessary?"

"I am sure that the least detail is of importance and that we are nearlyattaining our object. But we must hurry. This is a crucial moment. "

"I have nothing to conceal, " she said, proudly raising her head. "It wasthe most wretched and the most dangerous period of my life. Whilesuffering humiliation at home, outside I was surrounded with attentions, with temptations, with pitfalls, like any woman who is seen to beneglected by her husband. Then I remembered: before my marriage, a manhad been in love with me. I had guessed his unspoken love; and he hasdied since. I had the name of that man engraved inside the ring; and Iwore it as a talisman. There was no love in me, because I was the wifeof another. But, in my secret heart, there was a memory, a sad dream, something sweet and gentle that protected me. .. . "

She had spoken slowly, without embarrassment, and Velmont did not doubtfor a second that she was telling the absolute truth. He kept silent;and she, becoming anxious again, asked:

"Do you suppose . .. That my husband . .. ?"

He took her hand and, while examining the plain gold ring, said:

"The puzzle lies here. Your husband, I don't know how, knows of thesubstitution of one ring for the other. His mother will be here attwelve o'clock. In the presence of witnesses, he will compel you to takeoff your ring; and, in this way, he will obtain the approval of hismother and, at the same time, will be able to obtain his divorce, because he will have the proof for which he was seeking. "

"I am lost!" she moaned. "I am lost!"

"On the contrary, you are saved! Give me that ring . .. And presently hewill find another there, another which I will send you, to reach youbefore twelve, and which will bear the date of the 23rd of October. So. .. "

He suddenly broke off. While he was speaking, Yvonne's hand had turnedice-cold in his; and, raising his eyes, he saw that the young woman waspale, terribly pale:

"What's the matter? I beseech you . .. "

She yielded to a fit of mad despair:

"This is the matter, that I am lost!. .. This is the matter, that I can'tget the ring off! It has grown too small for me!. .. Do youunderstand?. .. It made no difference and I did not give it a thought. .. . But to-day . .. This proof . .. This accusation. .. . Oh, what torture!. .. Look . .. It forms part of my finger . .. It has grown into my flesh . .. And I can't . .. I can't. .. . "

She pulled at the ring, vainly, with all her might, at the risk ofinjuring herself. But the flesh swelled up around the ring; and the ringdid not budge. 

"Oh!" she cried, seized with an idea that terrified her. "I remember . .. The other night . .. A nightmare I had. .. . It seemed to me that some oneentered my room and caught hold of my hand. .. . And I could not wakeup. .. . It was he! It was he! He had put me to sleep, I was sure of it. .. And he was looking at the ring. .. . And presently he will pull it offbefore his mother's eyes. .. . Ah, I understand everything: that workingjeweller!. .. He will cut it from my hand to-morrow. .. . You see, yousee. .. . I am lost!. .. "

She hid her face in her hands and began to weep. But, amid the silence, the clock struck once . .. And twice . .. And yet once more. And Yvonnedrew herself up with a jerk:

"There he is!" she cried. "He is coming!. .. It is three o'clock!. .. Letus go!. .. "

She grabbed at her cloak and ran to the door . .. Velmont barred the wayand, in a masterful tone:

"You shall not go!"

"My son. .. . I want to see him, to take him back. .. . "

"You don't even know where he is!"

"I want to go. "

"You shall not go!. .. It would be madness. .. . "

He took her by the wrists. She tried to release herself; and Velmont hadto employ a little force to overcome her resistance. In the end, hesucceeded in getting her back to the sofa, then in laying her at fulllength and, at once, without heeding her lamentations, he took thecanvas strips and fastened her wrists and ankles:

"Yes, " he said, "It would be madness! Who would have set you free? Whowould have opened that door for you? An accomplice? What an argumentagainst you and what a pretty use your husband would make of it with hismother!. .. And, besides, what's the good? To run away means acceptingdivorce . .. And what might that not lead to?. .. You must stay here. .. . "

She sobbed:

"I'm frightened. .. . I'm frightened . .. This ring burns me. .. . Breakit. .. . Take it away. .. . Don't let him find it!"

"And if it is not found on your finger, who will have broken it? Againan accomplice. .. . No, you must face the music . .. And face it boldly, for I answer for everything. .. . Believe me . .. I answer foreverything. .. . If I have to tackle the Comtesse d'Origny bodily and thusdelay the interview. .. . If I had to come myself before noon . .. It isthe real wedding-ring that shall be taken from your finger--that Iswear!--and your son shall be restored to you. "

Swayed and subdued, Yvonne instinctively held out her hands to thebonds. When he stood up, she was bound as she had been before. 

He looked round the room to make sure that no trace of his visitremained. Then he stooped over the countess again and whispered:

"Think of your son and, whatever happens, fear nothing. .. . I am watchingover you. "

She heard him open and shut the door of the boudoir and, a few minuteslater, the hall-door. 

At half-past three, a motor-cab drew up. The door downstairs was slammedagain; and, almost immediately after, Yvonne saw her husband hurry in, with a furious look in his eyes. He ran up to her, felt to see if shewas still fastened and, snatching her hand, examined the ring. Yvonnefainted. .. . 

 * * * * *

She could not tell, when she woke, how long she had slept. But the broadlight of day was filling the boudoir; and she perceived, at the firstmovement which she made, that her bonds were cut. Then she turned herhead and saw her husband standing beside her, looking at her:

"My son . .. My son . .. " she moaned. "I want my son. .. . "

He replied, in a voice of which she felt the jeering insolence:

"Our son is in a safe place. And, for the moment, it's a question not ofhim, but of you. We are face to face with each other, probably for thelast time, and the explanation between us will be a very serious one. Imust warn you that it will take place before my mother. Have you anyobjection?"

Yvonne tried to hide her agitation and answered:

"None at all. "

"Can I send for her?"

"Yes. Leave me, in the meantime. I shall be ready when she comes. "

"My mother is here. "

"Your mother is here?" cried Yvonne, in dismay, remembering HoraceVelmont's promise. 

"What is there to astonish you in that?"

"And is it now . .. Is it at once that you want to . .. ?

"Yes. "

"Why?. .. Why not this evening?. .. Why not to-morrow?"

"To-day and now, " declared the count. "A rather curious incidenthappened in the course of last night, an incident which I cannot accountfor and which decided me to hasten the explanation. Don't you wantsomething to eat first?"

"No . .. No. .. . "

"Then I will go and fetch my mother. "

He turned to Yvonne's bedroom. Yvonne glanced at the clock. It markedtwenty-five minutes to eleven!

"Ah!" she said, with a shiver of fright. 

Twenty-five minutes to eleven! Horace Velmont would not save her andnobody in the world and nothing in the world would save her, for therewas no miracle that could place the wedding-ring upon her finger. 

The count, returning with the Comtesse d'Origny, asked her to sit down. She was a tall, lank, angular woman, who had always displayed a hostilefeeling to Yvonne. She did not even bid her daughter-in-lawgood-morning, showing that her mind was made up as regards theaccusation:

"I don't think, " she said, "that we need speak at length. In two words, my son maintains. .. . "

"I don't maintain, mother, " said the count, "I declare. I declare on myoath that, three months ago, during the holidays, the upholsterer, whenlaying the carpet in this room and the boudoir, found the wedding-ringwhich I gave my wife lying in a crack in the floor. Here is the ring. The date of the 23rd of October is engraved inside. "

"Then, " said the countess, "the ring which your wife carries. .. . "

"That is another ring, which she ordered in exchange for the real one. Acting on my instructions, Bernard, my man, after long searching, endedby discovering in the outskirts of Paris, where he now lives, the littlejeweller to whom she went. This man remembers perfectly and is willingto bear witness that his customer did not tell him to engrave a date, but a name. He has forgotten the name, but the man who used to work withhim in his shop may be able to remember it. This working jeweller hasbeen informed by letter that I required his services and he repliedyesterday, placing himself at my disposal. Bernard went to fetch him atnine o'clock this morning. They are both waiting in my study. "

He turned to his wife:

"Will you give me that ring of your own free will?"

"You know, " she said, "from the other night, that it won't come off myfinger. "

"In that case, can I have the man up? He has the necessary implementswith him. "

"Yes, " she said, in a voice faint as a whisper. 

She was resigned. She conjured up the future as in a vision: thescandal, the decree of divorce pronounced against herself, the custodyof the child awarded to the father; and she accepted this, thinking thatshe would carry off her son, that she would go with him to the ends ofthe earth and that the two of them would live alone together andhappy. .. . 

Her mother-in-law said:

"You have been very thoughtless, Yvonne. "

Yvonne was on the point of confessing to her and asking for herprotection. But what was the good? How could the Comtesse d'Orignypossibly believe her innocent? She made no reply. 

Besides, the count at once returned, followed by his servant and by aman carrying a bag of tools under his arm. 

And the count said to the man:

"You know what you have to do?"

"Yes, " said the workman. "It's to cut a ring that's grown toosmall. .. . That's easily done. .. . A touch of the nippers. .. . "

"And then you will see, " said the count, "if the inscription inside thering was the one you engraved. "

Yvonne looked at the clock. It was ten minutes to eleven. She seemed tohear, somewhere in the house, a sound of voices raised in argument; and, in spite of herself, she felt a thrill of hope. Perhaps Velmont hassucceeded. .. . But the sound was renewed; and she perceived that it wasproduced by some costermongers passing under her window and movingfarther on. 

It was all over. Horace Velmont had been unable to assist her. And sheunderstood that, to recover her child, she must rely upon her ownstrength, for the promises of others are vain. 

She made a movement of recoil. She had felt the workman's heavy hand onher hand; and that hateful touch revolted her. 

The man apologized, awkwardly. The count said to his wife:

"You must make up your mind, you know. "

Then she put out her slim and trembling hand to the workman, who tookit, turned it over and rested it on the table, with the palm upward. Yvonne felt the cold steel. She longed to die, then and there; and, atonce attracted by that idea of death, she thought of the poisons whichshe would buy and which would send her to sleep almost without herknowing it. 

The operation did not take long. Inserted on the slant, the little steelpliers pushed back the flesh, made room for themselves and bit the ring. A strong effort . .. And the ring broke. The two ends had only to beseparated to remove the ring from the finger. The workman did so. 

The count exclaimed, in triumph:

"At last! Now we shall see!. .. The proof is there! And we are allwitnesses. .. . "

He snatched up the ring and looked at the inscription. A cry ofamazement escaped him. The ring bore the date of his marriage to Yvonne:"23rd of October"!. .. 

 * * * * *

We were sitting on the terrace at Monte Carlo. Lupin finished his story, lit a cigarette and calmly puffed the smoke into the blue air. 

I said:

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Why, the end of the story. .. . "

"The end of the story? But what other end could there be?"

"Come . .. You're joking . .. "

"Not at all. Isn't that enough for you? The countess is saved. Thecount, not possessing the least proof against her, is compelled by hismother to forego the divorce and to give up the child. That is all. Since then, he has left his wife, who is living happily with her son, afine lad of sixteen. "

"Yes . .. Yes . .. But the way in which the countess was saved?"

Lupin burst out laughing:

"My dear old chap"--Lupin sometimes condescends to address me in thisaffectionate manner--"my dear old chap, you may be rather smart atrelating my exploits, but, by Jove, you do want to have the i's dottedfor you! I assure you, the countess did not ask for explanations!"

"Very likely. But there's no pride about me, " I added, laughing. "Dotthose i's for me, will you?"

He took out a five-franc piece and closed his hand over it. 

"What's in my hand?"

"A five-franc piece. "

He opened his hand. The five-franc piece was gone. 

"You see how easy it is! A working jeweller, with his nippers, cuts aring with a date engraved upon it: 23rd of October. It's a simple littletrick of sleight-of-hand, one of many which I have in my bag. By Jove, I didn't spend six months with Dickson, the conjurer, [C] for nothing!"

 [C] _The Exploits of Arsène Lupin. _ By Maurice Leblanc. Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos (Cassell). IV. _The Escape of Arsène Lupin. _

"But then . .. ?"

"Out with it!"

"The working jeweller?"

"Was Horace Velmont! Was good old Lupin! Leaving the countess at threeo'clock in the morning, I employed the few remaining minutes before thehusband's return to have a look round his study. On the table I foundthe letter from the working jeweller. The letter gave me the address. Abribe of a few louis enabled me to take the workman's place; and Iarrived with a wedding-ring ready cut and engraved. Hocus-pocus!Pass!. .. The count couldn't make head or tail of it. "

"Splendid!" I cried. And I added, a little chaffingly, in my turn, "Butdon't you think that you were humbugged a bit yourself, on thisoccasion?"

"Oh! And by whom, pray?"

"By the countess?"

"In what way?"

"Hang it all, that name engraved as a talisman!. .. The mysterious Adoniswho loved her and suffered for her sake!. .. All that story seems veryunlikely; and I wonder whether, Lupin though you be, you did not justdrop upon a pretty love-story, absolutely genuine and . .. None tooinnocent. "

Lupin looked at me out of the corner of his eye:

"No, " he said. 

"How do you know?"

"If the countess made a misstatement in telling me that she knew thatman before her marriage--and that he was dead--and if she really didlove him in her secret heart, I, at least, have a positive proof that itwas an ideal love and that he did not suspect it. "

"And where is the proof?"

"It is inscribed inside the ring which I myself broke on the countess'sfinger . .. And which I carry on me. Here it is. You can read the nameshe had engraved on it. "

He handed me the ring. I read:

"Horace Velmont. "

There was a moment of silence between Lupin and myself; and, noticingit, I also observed on his face a certain emotion, a tinge ofmelancholy. 

I resumed:

"What made you tell me this story . .. To which you have often alluded inmy presence?"

"What made me . .. ?"

He drew my attention to a woman, still exceedingly handsome, who waspassing on a young man's arm. She saw Lupin and bowed. 

"It's she, " he whispered. "She and her son. "

"Then she recognized you?"

"She always recognizes me, whatever my disguise. "

"But since the burglary at the Château de Thibermesnil, [D] the policehave identified the two names of Arsène Lupin and Horace Velmont. "

 [D] _The Exploits of Arsène Lupin. IX. Holmlock Shears arrives too late. _

"Yes. "

"Therefore she knows who you are. "

"Yes. "

"And she bows to you?" I exclaimed, in spite of myself. 

He caught me by the arm and, fiercely:

"Do you think that I am Lupin to her? Do you think that I am a burglarin her eyes, a rogue, a cheat?. .. Why, I might be the lowest ofmiscreants, I might be a murderer even . .. And still she would bow tome!"

"Why? Because she loved you once?"

"Rot! That would be an additional reason, on the contrary, why sheshould now despise me. "

"What then?"

"I am the man who gave her back her son!"

III

THE SIGN OF THE SHADOW

"I received your telegram and here I am, " said a gentleman with a greymoustache, who entered my study, dressed in a dark-brown frock-coat anda wide-brimmed hat, with a red ribbon in his buttonhole. "What's thematter?"

Had I not been expecting Arsène Lupin, I should certainly never haverecognized him in the person of this old half-pay officer:

"What's the matter?" I echoed. "Oh, nothing much: a rather curiouscoincidence, that's all. And, as I know that you would just as soonclear up a mystery as plan one. .. . "

"Well?"

"You seem in a great hurry!"

"I am . .. Unless the mystery in question is worth putting myself outfor. So let us get to the point. "

"Very well. Just begin by casting your eye on this little picture, whichI picked up, a week or two ago, in a grimy old shop on the other sideof the river. I bought it for the sake of its Empire frame, with thepalm-leaf ornaments on the mouldings . .. For the painting is execrable. "

"Execrable, as you say, " said Lupin, after he had examined it, "but thesubject itself is rather nice. That corner of an old courtyard, with itsrotunda of Greek columns, its sun-dial and its fish-pond and that ruinedwell with the Renascence roof and those stone steps and stone benches:all very picturesque. "

"And genuine, " I added. "The picture, good or bad, has never been takenout of its Empire frame. Besides, it is dated. .. . There, in theleft-hand bottom corner: those red figures, 15. 4. 2, which obviouslystand for 15 April, 1802. "

"I dare say . .. I dare say. .. . But you were speaking of a coincidenceand, so far, I fail to see. .. . "

I went to a corner of my study, took a telescope, fixed it on its standand pointed it, through the open window, at the open window of a littleroom facing my flat, on the other side of the street. And I asked Lupinto look through it. 

He stooped forward. The slanting rays of the morning sun lit up the roomopposite, revealing a set of mahogany furniture, all very simple, alarge bed and a child's bed hung with cretonne curtains. 

"Ah!" cried Lupin, suddenly. "The same picture!"

"Exactly the same!" I said. "And the date: do you see the date, in red?15. 4. 2. "

"Yes, I see. .. . And who lives in that room?"

"A lady . .. Or, rather, a workwoman, for she has to work for her living. .. Needlework, hardly enough to keep herself and her child. "

"What is her name?"

"Louise d'Ernemont. .. . From what I hear, she is the great-granddaughterof a farmer-general who was guillotined during the Terror. "

"Yes, on the same day as André Chénier, " said Lupin. "According to thememoirs of the time, this d'Ernemont was supposed to be a very richman. " He raised his head and said, "It's an interesting story. .. . Whydid you wait before telling me?"

"Because this is the 15th of April. "

"Well?"

"Well, I discovered yesterday--I heard them talking about it in theporter's box--that the 15th of April plays an important part in the lifeof Louise d'Ernemont. "

"Nonsense!"

"Contrary to her usual habits, this woman who works every day of herlife, who keeps her two rooms tidy, who cooks the lunch which herlittle girl eats when she comes home from the parish school . .. Thiswoman, on the 15th of April, goes out with the child at ten o'clock inthe morning and does not return until nightfall. And this has happenedfor years and in all weathers. You must admit that there is somethingqueer about this date which I find on an old picture, which is inscribedon another, similar picture and which controls the annual movements ofthe descendant of d'Ernemont the farmer-general. "

"Yes, it's curious . .. You're quite right, " said Lupin, slowly. "Anddon't you know where she goes to?"

"Nobody knows. She does not confide in a soul. As a matter of fact, shetalks very little. "

"Are you sure of your information?"

"Absolutely. And the best proof of its accuracy is that here she comes. "

A door had opened at the back of the room opposite, admitting a littlegirl of seven or eight, who came and looked out of the window. A ladyappeared behind her, tall, good-looking still and wearing a sad andgentle air. Both of them were ready and dressed, in clothes which weresimple in themselves, but which pointed to a love of neatness and acertain elegance on the part of the mother. 

"You see, " I whispered, "they are going out. "

And presently the mother took the child by the hand and they left theroom together. 

Lupin caught up his hat:

"Are you coming?"

My curiosity was too great for me to raise the least objection. I wentdownstairs with Lupin. 

As we stepped into the street, we saw my neighbour enter a baker's shop. She bought two rolls and placed them in a little basket which herdaughter was carrying and which seemed already to contain some otherprovisions. Then they went in the direction of the outer boulevards andfollowed them as far as the Place de l'Étoile, where they turned downthe Avenue Kléber to walk toward Passy. 

Lupin strolled silently along, evidently obsessed by a train of thoughtwhich I was glad to have provoked. From time to time, he uttered asentence which showed me the thread of his reflections; and I was ableto see that the riddle remained as much a mystery to him as to myself. 

Louise d'Ernemont, meanwhile, had branched off to the left, along theRue Raynouard, a quiet old street in which Franklin and Balzac oncelived, one of those streets which, lined with old-fashioned houses andwalled gardens, give you the impression of being in a country-town. TheSeine flows at the foot of the slope which the street crowns; and anumber of lanes run down to the river. 

My neighbour took one of these narrow, winding, deserted lanes. Thefirst building, on the right, was a house the front of which faced theRue Raynouard. Next came a moss-grown wall, of a height above theordinary, supported by buttresses and bristling with broken glass. 

Half-way along the wall was a low, arched door. Louise d'Ernemontstopped in front of this door and opened it with a key which seemed tous enormous. Mother and child entered and closed the door. 

"In any case, " said Lupin, "she has nothing to conceal, for she has notlooked round once. .. . "

He had hardly finished his sentence when we heard the sound of footstepsbehind us. It was two old beggars, a man and a woman, tattered, dirty, squalid, covered in rags. They passed us without paying the leastattention to our presence. The man took from his wallet a key similar tomy neighbour's and put it into the lock. The door closed behind them. 

And, suddenly, at the top of the lane, came the noise of a motor-carstopping. .. . Lupin dragged me fifty yards lower down, to a corner inwhich we were able to hide. And we saw coming down the lane, carrying alittle dog under her arm, a young and very much over-dressed woman, wearing a quantity of jewellery, a young woman whose eyes were too dark, her lips too red, her hair too fair. In front of the door, the sameperformance, with the same key. .. . The lady and the dog disappeared fromview. 

"This promises to be most amusing, " said Lupin, chuckling. "What earthlyconnection can there be between those different people?"

There hove in sight successively two elderly ladies, lean and ratherpoverty-stricken in appearance, very much alike, evidently sisters; afootman in livery; an infantry corporal; a fat gentleman in a soiled andpatched jacket-suit; and, lastly, a workman's family, father, mother, and four children, all six of them pale and sickly, looking like peoplewho never eat their fill. And each of the newcomers carried a basket orstring-bag filled with provisions. 

"It's a picnic!" I cried. 

"It grows more and more surprising, " said Lupin, "and I sha'n't besatisfied till I know what is happening behind that wall. "

To climb it was out of the question. We also saw that it finished, atthe lower as well as at the upper end, at a house none of whose windowsoverlooked the enclosure which the wall contained. 

During the next hour, no one else came along. We vainly cast about fora stratagem; and Lupin, whose fertile brain had exhausted every possibleexpedient, was about to go in search of a ladder, when, suddenly, thelittle door opened and one of the workman's children came out. 

The boy ran up the lane to the Rue Raynouard. A few minutes later hereturned, carrying two bottles of water, which he set down on thepavement to take the big key from his pocket. 

By that time Lupin had left me and was strolling slowly along the wall. When the child, after entering the enclosure, pushed back the door Lupinsprang forward and stuck the point of his knife into the staple of thelock. The bolt failed to catch; and it became an easy matter to push thedoor ajar. 

"That's done the trick!" said Lupin. 

He cautiously put his hand through the doorway and then, to my greatsurprise, entered boldly. But, on following his example, I saw that, tenyards behind the wall, a clump of laurels formed a sort of curtain whichallowed us to come up unobserved. 

Lupin took his stand right in the middle of the clump. I joined him and, like him, pushed aside the branches of one of the shrubs. And the sightwhich presented itself to my eyes was so unexpected that I was unable tosuppress an exclamation, while Lupin, on his side, muttered, betweenhis teeth:

"By Jupiter! This is a funny job!"

We saw before us, within the confined space that lay between the twowindowless houses, the identical scene represented in the old picturewhich I had bought at a second-hand dealer's!

The identical scene! At the back, against the opposite wall, the sameGreek rotunda displayed its slender columns. In the middle, the samestone benches topped a circle of four steps that ran down to a fish-pondwith moss-grown flags. On the left, the same well raised itswrought-iron roof; and, close at hand, the same sun-dial showed itsslanting gnomon and its marble face. 

The identical scene! And what added to the strangeness of the sight wasthe memory, obsessing Lupin and myself, of that date of the 15th ofApril, inscribed in a corner of the picture, and the thought that thisvery day was the 15th of April and that sixteen or seventeen people, sodifferent in age, condition and manners, had chosen the 15th of April tocome together in this forgotten corner of Paris!

All of them, at the moment when we caught sight of them, were sitting inseparate groups on the benches and steps; and all were eating. Not veryfar from my neighbour and her daughter, the workman's family and thebeggar couple were sharing their provisions; while the footman, thegentleman in the soiled suit, the infantry corporal and the two leansisters were making a common stock of their sliced ham, their tins ofsardines and their gruyère cheese. 

The lady with the little dog alone, who had brought no food with her, sat apart from the others, who made a show of turning their backs uponher. But Louise d'Ernemont offered her a sandwich, whereupon her examplewas followed by the two sisters; and the corporal at once began to makehimself as agreeable to the young person as he could. 

It was now half-past one. The beggar-man took out his pipe, as did thefat gentleman; and, when they found that one had no tobacco and theother no matches, their needs soon brought them together. The men wentand smoked by the rotunda and the women joined them. For that matter, all these people seemed to know one another quite well. 

They were at some distance from where we were standing, so that we couldnot hear what they said. However, we gradually perceived that theconversation was becoming animated. The young person with the dog, inparticular, who by this time appeared to be in great request, indulgedin much voluble talk, accompanying her words with many gestures, whichset the little dog barking furiously. 

But, suddenly, there was an outcry, promptly followed by shouts of rage;and one and all, men and women alike, rushed in disorder toward thewell. One of the workman's brats was at that moment coming out of it, fastened by his belt to the hook at the end of the rope; and the threeother urchins were drawing him up by turning the handle. More activethan the rest, the corporal flung himself upon him; and forthwith thefootman and the fat gentleman seized hold of him also, while the beggarsand the lean sisters came to blows with the workman and his family. 

In a few seconds the little boy had not a stitch left on him beyond hisshirt. The footman, who had taken possession of the rest of the clothes, ran away, pursued by the corporal, who snatched away the boy's breeches, which were next torn from the corporal by one of the lean sisters. 

"They are mad!" I muttered, feeling absolutely at sea. 

"Not at all, not at all, " said Lupin. 

"What! Do you mean to say that you can make head or tail of what isgoing on?"

He did not reply. The young lady with the little dog, tucking her petunder her arm, had started running after the child in the shirt, whouttered loud yells. The two of them raced round the laurel-clump inwhich we stood hidden; and the brat flung himself into his mother'sarms. 

At long last, Louise d'Ernemont, who had played a conciliatory part fromthe beginning, succeeded in allaying the tumult. Everybody sat downagain; but there was a reaction in all those exasperated people and theyremained motionless and silent, as though worn out with their exertions. 

And time went by. Losing patience and beginning to feel the pangs ofhunger, I went to the Rue Raynouard to fetch something to eat, which wedivided while watching the actors in the incomprehensible comedy thatwas being performed before our eyes. They hardly stirred. Each minutethat passed seemed to load them with increasing melancholy; and theysank into attitudes of discouragement, bent their backs more and moreand sat absorbed in their meditations. 

The afternoon wore on in this way, under a grey sky that shed a drearylight over the enclosure. 

"Are they going to spend the night here?" I asked, in a bored voice. 

But, at five o'clock or so, the fat gentleman in the soiled jacket-suittook out his watch. The others did the same and all, watch in hand, seemed to be anxiously awaiting an event of no little importance tothemselves. The event did not take place, for, in fifteen or twentyminutes, the fat gentleman gave a gesture of despair, stood up and puton his hat. 

Then lamentations broke forth. The two lean sisters and the workman'swife fell upon their knees and made the sign of the cross. The lady withthe little dog and the beggar-woman kissed each other and sobbed; and wesaw Louise d'Ernemont pressing her daughter sadly to her. 

"Let's go, " said Lupin. 

"You think it's over?"

"Yes; and we have only just time to make ourselves scarce. "

We went out unmolested. At the top of the lane, Lupin turned to the leftand, leaving me outside, entered the first house in the Rue Raynouard, the one that backed on to the enclosure. 

After talking for a few seconds to the porter, he joined me and westopped a passing taxi-cab:

"No. 34 Rue de Turin, " he said to the driver. 

The ground-floor of No. 34 was occupied by a notary's office; and wewere shown in, almost without waiting, to Maître Valandier, a smiling, pleasant-spoken man of a certain age. 

Lupin introduced himself by the name of Captain Jeanniot, retired fromthe army. He said that he wanted to build a house to his own likingand that some one had suggested to him a plot of ground situated nearthe Rue Raynouard. 

"But that plot is not for sale, " said Maître Valandier. 

"Oh, I was told. .. . "

"You have been misinformed, I fear. "

The lawyer rose, went to a cupboard and returned with a picture which heshowed us. I was petrified. It was the same picture which I had bought, the same picture that hung in Louise d'Ernemont's room. 

"This is a painting, " he said, "of the plot of ground to which yourefer. It is known as the Clos d'Ernemont. "

"Precisely. "

"Well, this close, " continued the notary, "once formed part of a largegarden belonging to d'Ernemont, the farmer-general, who was executedduring the Terror. All that could be sold has been sold, piecemeal, bythe heirs. But this last plot has remained and will remain in theirjoint possession . .. Unless. .. . "

The notary began to laugh. 

"Unless what?" asked Lupin. 

"Well, it's quite a romance, a rather curious romance, in fact. I oftenamuse myself by looking through the voluminous documents of the case. "

"Would it be indiscreet, if I asked . .. ?"

"Not at all, not at all, " declared Maître Valandier, who seemeddelighted, on the contrary, to have found a listener for his story. And, without waiting to be pressed, he began: "At the outbreak of theRevolution, Louis Agrippa d'Ernemont, on the pretence of joining hiswife, who was staying at Geneva with their daughter Pauline, shut up hismansion in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, dismissed his servants and, withhis son Charles, came and took up his abode in his pleasure-house atPassy, where he was known to nobody except an old and devotedserving-woman. He remained there in hiding for three years and he hadevery reason to hope that his retreat would not be discovered, when, oneday, after luncheon, as he was having a nap, the old servant burst intohis room. She had seen, at the end of the street, a patrol of armed menwho seemed to be making for the house. Louis d'Ernemont got readyquickly and, at the moment when the men were knocking at the front door, disappeared through the door that led to the garden, shouting to hisson, in a scared voice, to keep them talking, if only for five minutes. He may have intended to escape and found the outlets through the gardenwatched. In any case, he returned in six or seven minutes, replied verycalmly to the questions put to him and raised no difficulty aboutaccompanying the men. His son Charles, although only eighteen years ofage, was arrested also. "

"When did this happen?" asked Lupin. 

"It happened on the 26th day of Germinal, Year II, that is to say, onthe. .. . "

Maître Valandier stopped, with his eyes fixed on a calendar that hung onthe wall, and exclaimed:

"Why, it was on this very day! This is the 15th of April, theanniversary of the farmer-general's arrest. "

"What an odd coincidence!" said Lupin. "And considering the period atwhich it took place, the arrest, no doubt, had serious consequences?"

"Oh, most serious!" said the notary, laughing. "Three months later, atthe beginning of Thermidor, the farmer-general mounted the scaffold. Hisson Charles was forgotten in prison and their property was confiscated. "

"The property was immense, I suppose?" said Lupin. 

"Well, there you are! That's just where the thing becomes complicated. The property, which was, in fact, immense, could never be traced. It wasdiscovered that the Faubourg Saint-Germain mansion had been sold, beforethe Revolution, to an Englishman, together with all the country-seatsand estates and all the jewels, securities and collections belonging tothe farmer-general. The Convention instituted minute inquiries, as didthe Directory afterward. But the inquiries led to no result. "

"There remained, at any rate, the Passy house, " said Lupin. 

"The house at Passy was bought, for a mere song, by a delegate of theCommune, the very man who had arrested d'Ernemont, one Citizen Broquet. Citizen Broquet shut himself up in the house, barricaded the doors, fortified the walls and, when Charles d'Ernemont was at last set freeand appeared outside, received him by firing a musket at him. Charlesinstituted one law-suit after another, lost them all and then proceededto offer large sums of money. But Citizen Broquet proved intractable. Hehad bought the house and he stuck to the house; and he would have stuckto it until his death, if Charles had not obtained the support ofBonaparte. Citizen Broquet cleared out on the 12th of February, 1803;but Charles d'Ernemont's joy was so great and his brain, no doubt, hadbeen so violently unhinged by all that he had gone through, that, onreaching the threshold of the house of which he had at last recoveredthe ownership, even before opening the door he began to dance and singin the street. He had gone clean off his head. "

"By Jove!" said Lupin. "And what became of him?"

"His mother and his sister Pauline, who had ended by marrying a cousinof the same name at Geneva, were both dead. The old servant-woman tookcare of him and they lived together in the Passy house. Years passedwithout any notable event; but, suddenly, in 1812, an unexpectedincident happened. The old servant made a series of strange revelationson her death-bed, in the presence of two witnesses whom she sent for. She declared that the farmer-general had carried to his house at Passy anumber of bags filled with gold and silver and that those bags haddisappeared a few days before the arrest. According to earlierconfidences made by Charles d'Ernemont, who had them from his father, the treasures were hidden in the garden, between the rotunda, thesun-dial and the well. In proof of her statement, she produced threepictures, or rather, for they were not yet framed, three canvases, whichthe farmer-general had painted during his captivity and which he hadsucceeded in conveying to her, with instructions to hand them to hiswife, his son and his daughter. Tempted by the lure of wealth, Charlesand the old servant had kept silence. Then came the law-suits, therecovery of the house, Charles's madness, the servant's own uselesssearches; and the treasures were still there. "

"And they are there now, " chuckled Lupin. 

"And they will be there always, " exclaimed Maître Valandier. "Unless . .. Unless Citizen Broquet, who no doubt smelt a rat, succeeded in ferretingthem out. But this is an unlikely supposition, for Citizen Broquet diedin extreme poverty. "

"So then . .. ?"

"So then everybody began to hunt. The children of Pauline, the sister, hastened from Geneva. It was discovered that Charles had been secretlymarried and that he had sons. All these heirs set to work. "

"But Charles himself?"

"Charles lived in the most absolute retirement. He did not leave hisroom. "

"Never?"

"Well, that is the most extraordinary, the most astounding part of thestory. Once a year, Charles d'Ernemont, impelled by a sort ofsubconscious will-power, came downstairs, took the exact road which hisfather had taken, walked across the garden and sat down either on thesteps of the rotunda, which you see here, in the picture, or on the curbof the well. At twenty-seven minutes past five, he rose and went indoorsagain; and until his death, which occurred in 1820, he never once failedto perform this incomprehensible pilgrimage. Well, the day on which thishappened was invariably the 15th of April, the anniversary of thearrest. "

Maître Valandier was no longer smiling and himself seemed impressed bythe amazing story which he was telling us. 

"And, since Charles's death?" asked Lupin, after a moment's reflection. 

"Since that time, " replied the lawyer, with a certain solemnity ofmanner, "for nearly a hundred years, the heirs of Charles and Paulined'Ernemont have kept up the pilgrimage of the 15th of April. During thefirst few years they made the most thorough excavations. Every inch ofthe garden was searched, every clod of ground dug up. All this is nowover. They take hardly any pains. All they do is, from time to time, forno particular reason, to turn over a stone or explore the well. For themost part, they are content to sit down on the steps of the rotunda, like the poor madman; and, like him, they wait. And that, you see, isthe sad part of their destiny. In those hundred years, all these peoplewho have succeeded one another, from father to son, have lost--whatshall I say?--the energy of life. They have no courage left, noinitiative. They wait. They wait for the 15th of April; and, when the15th of April comes, they wait for a miracle to take place. Poverty hasended by overtaking every one of them. My predecessors and I have soldfirst the house, in order to build another which yields a better rent, followed by bits of the garden and further bits. But, as to that cornerover there, " pointing to the picture, "they would rather die than sellit. On this they are all agreed: Louise d'Ernemont, who is the directheiress of Pauline, as well as the beggars, the workman, the footman, the circus-rider and so on, who represent the unfortunate Charles. "

There was a fresh pause; and Lupin asked:

"What is your own opinion, Maître Valandier?"

"My private opinion is that there's nothing in it. What credit can wegive to the statements of an old servant enfeebled by age? Whatimportance can we attach to the crotchets of a madman? Besides, if thefarmer-general had realized his fortune, don't you think that thatfortune would have been found? One could manage to hide a paper, adocument, in a confined space like that, but not treasures. "

"Still, the pictures?. .. "

"Yes, of course. But, after all, are they a sufficient proof?"

Lupin bent over the copy which the solicitor had taken from the cupboardand, after examining it at length, said:

"You spoke of three pictures. "

"Yes, the one which you see was handed to my predecessor by the heirs ofCharles. Louise d'Ernemont possesses another. As for the third, no oneknows what became of it. "

Lupin looked at me and continued:

"And do they all bear the same date?"

"Yes, the date inscribed by Charles d'Ernemont when he had them framed, not long before his death. .. . The same date, that is to say the 15th ofApril, Year II, according to the revolutionary calendar, as the arresttook place in April, 1794. "

"Oh, yes, of course, " said Lupin. "The figure 2 means. .. . "

He thought for a few moments and resumed:

"One more question, if I may. Did no one ever come forward to solve theproblem?"

Maître Valandier threw up his arms:

"Goodness gracious me!" he cried. "Why, it was the plague of the office!One of my predecessors, Maître Turbon, was summoned to Passy no fewerthan eighteen times, between 1820 and 1843, by the groups of heirs, whomfortune-tellers, clairvoyants, visionaries, impostors of all sorts hadpromised that they would discover the farmer-general's treasures. Atlast, we laid down a rule: any outsider applying to institute a searchwas to begin by depositing a certain sum. "

"What sum?"

"A thousand francs. "

"And did this have the effect of frightening them off?"

"No. Four years ago, an Hungarian hypnotist tried the experiment andmade me waste a whole day. After that, we fixed the deposit at fivethousand francs. In case of success, a third of the treasure goes to thefinder. In case of failure, the deposit is forfeited to the heirs. Sincethen, I have been left in peace. "

"Here are your five thousand francs. "

The lawyer gave a start:

"Eh? What do you say?"

"I say, " repeated Lupin, taking five bank-notes from his pocket andcalmly spreading them on the table, "I say that here is the deposit offive thousand francs. Please give me a receipt and invite all thed'Ernemont heirs to meet me at Passy on the 15th of April next year. "

The notary could not believe his senses. I myself, although Lupin hadaccustomed me to these surprises, was utterly taken back. 

"Are you serious?" asked Maître Valandier. 

"Perfectly serious. "

"But, you know, I told you my opinion. All these improbable stories restupon no evidence of any kind. "

"I don't agree with you, " said Lupin. 

The notary gave him the look which we give to a person who is not quiteright in his head. Then, accepting the situation, he took his pen anddrew up a contract on stamped paper, acknowledging the payment of thedeposit by Captain Jeanniot and promising him a third of such moneys ashe should discover:

"If you change your mind, " he added, "you might let me know a weekbefore the time comes. I shall not inform the d'Ernemont family untilthe last moment, so as not to give those poor people too long a spell ofhope. "

"You can inform them this very day, Maître Valandier. It will make themspend a happier year. "

We said good-bye. Outside, in the street, I cried:

"So you have hit upon something?"

"I?" replied Lupin. "Not a bit of it! And that's just what amuses me. "

"But they have been searching for a hundred years!"

"It is not so much a matter of searching as of thinking. Now I havethree hundred and sixty-five days to think in. It is a great deal morethan I want; and I am afraid that I shall forget all about the business, interesting though it may be. Oblige me by reminding me, will you?"

 * * * * *

I reminded him of it several times during the following months, thoughhe never seemed to attach much importance to the matter. Then came along period during which I had no opportunity of seeing him. It was theperiod, as I afterward learnt, of his visit to Armenia and of theterrible struggle on which he embarked against Abdul the Damned, astruggle which ended in the tyrant's downfall. 

I used to write to him, however, at the address which he gave me and Iwas thus able to send him certain particulars which I had succeeded ingathering, here and there, about my neighbour Louise d'Ernemont, such asthe love which she had conceived, a few years earlier, for a very richyoung man, who still loved her, but who had been compelled by his familyto throw her over; the young widow's despair, and the plucky life whichshe led with her little daughter. 

Lupin replied to none of my letters. I did not know whether they reachedhim; and, meantime, the date was drawing near and I could not helpwondering whether his numerous undertakings would not prevent him fromkeeping the appointment which he himself had fixed. 

As a matter of fact, the morning of the 15th of April arrived and Lupinwas not with me by the time I had finished lunch. It was a quarter-pasttwelve. I left my flat and took a cab to Passy. 

I had no sooner entered the lane than I saw the workman's four bratsstanding outside the door in the wall. Maître Valandier, informed bythem of my arrival, hastened in my direction:

"Well?" he cried. "Where's Captain Jeanniot?"

"Hasn't he come?"

"No; and I can assure you that everybody is very impatient to see him. "

The different groups began to crowd round the lawyer; and I noticed thatall those faces which I recognized had thrown off the gloomy anddespondent expression which they wore a year ago. 

"They are full of hope, " said Maître Valandier, "and it is my fault. Butwhat could I do? Your friend made such an impression upon me that Ispoke to these good people with a confidence . .. Which I cannot say Ifeel. However, he seems a queer sort of fellow, this Captain Jeanniot ofyours. .. . "

He asked me many questions and I gave him a number of more or lessfanciful details about the captain, to which the heirs listened, noddingtheir heads in appreciation of my remarks. 

"Of course, the truth was bound to be discovered sooner or later, " saidthe fat gentleman, in a tone of conviction. 

The infantry corporal, dazzled by the captain's rank, did not entertaina doubt in his mind. 

The lady with the little dog wanted to know if Captain Jeanniot wasyoung. 

But Louise d'Ernemont said:

"And suppose he does not come?"

"We shall still have the five thousand francs to divide, " said thebeggar-man. 

For all that, Louise d'Ernemont's words had damped their enthusiasm. Their faces began to look sullen and I felt an atmosphere as of anguishweighing upon us. 

At half-past one, the two lean sisters felt faint and sat down. Then thefat gentleman in the soiled suit suddenly rounded on the notary:

"It's you, Maître Valandier, who are to blame. .. . You ought to havebrought the captain here by main force. .. . He's a humbug, that's quiteclear. "

He gave me a savage look, and the footman, in his turn, flung mutteredcurses at me. 

I confess that their reproaches seemed to me well-founded and thatLupin's absence annoyed me greatly:

"He won't come now, " I whispered to the lawyer. 

And I was thinking of beating a retreat, when the eldest of the bratsappeared at the door, yelling:

"There's some one coming!. .. A motor-cycle!. .. "

A motor was throbbing on the other side of the wall. A man on amotor-bicycle came tearing down the lane at the risk of breaking hisneck. Suddenly, he put on his brakes, outside the door, and sprang fromhis machine. 

Under the layer of dust which covered him from head to foot, we couldsee that his navy-blue reefer-suit, his carefully creased trousers, hisblack felt hat and patent-leather boots were not the clothes in which aman usually goes cycling. 

"But that's not Captain Jeanniot!" shouted the notary, who failed torecognize him. 

"Yes, it is, " said Lupin, shaking hands with us. "I'm Captain Jeanniotright enough . .. Only I've shaved off my moustache. .. . Besides, MaîtreValandier, here's your receipt. "

He caught one of the workman's children by the arm and said:

"Run to the cab-rank and fetch a taxi to the corner of the RueRaynouard. Look sharp! I have an urgent appointment to keep at twoo'clock, or a quarter-past at the latest. "

There was a murmur of protest. Captain Jeanniot took out his watch:

"Well! It's only twelve minutes to two! I have a good quarter of an hourbefore me. But, by Jingo, how tired I feel! And how hungry into thebargain!"

The corporal thrust his ammunition-bread into Lupin's hand; and hemunched away at it as he sat down and said:

"You must forgive me. I was in the Marseilles express, which left therails between Dijon and Laroche. There were twelve people killed and anynumber injured, whom I had to help. Then I found this motor-cycle in theluggage-van. .. . Maître Valandier, you must be good enough to restore itto the owner. You will find the label fastened to the handle-bar. Ah, you're back, my boy! Is the taxi there? At the corner of the RueRaynouard? Capital!"

He looked at his watch again:

"Hullo! No time to lose!"

I stared at him with eager curiosity. But how great must the excitementof the d'Ernemont heirs have been! True, they had not the same faith inCaptain Jeanniot that I had in Lupin. Nevertheless, their faces werepale and drawn. Captain Jeanniot turned slowly to the left and walked upto the sun-dial. The pedestal represented the figure of a man with apowerful torso, who bore on his shoulders a marble slab the surface ofwhich had been so much worn by time that we could hardly distinguish theengraved lines that marked the hours. Above the slab, a Cupid, withoutspread wings, held an arrow that served as a gnomon. 

The captain stood leaning forward for a minute, with attentive eyes. 

Then he said:

"Somebody lend me a knife, please. "

A clock in the neighbourhood struck two. At that exact moment, theshadow of the arrow was thrown upon the sunlit dial along the line of acrack in the marble which divided the slab very nearly in half. 

The captain took the knife handed to him. And with the point, verygently, he began to scratch the mixture of earth and moss that filledthe narrow cleft. 

Almost immediately, at a couple of inches from the edge, he stopped, asthough his knife had encountered an obstacle, inserted his thumb andforefinger and withdrew a small object which he rubbed between the palmsof his hands and gave to the lawyer:

"Here, Maître Valandier. Something to go on with. "

It was an enormous diamond, the size of a hazelnut and beautifully cut. 

The captain resumed his work. The next moment, a fresh stop. A seconddiamond, magnificent and brilliant as the first, appeared in sight. 

And then came a third and a fourth. 

In a minute's time, following the crack from one edge to the other andcertainly without digging deeper than half an inch, the captain hadtaken out eighteen diamonds of the same size. 

During this minute, there was not a cry, not a movement around thesun-dial. The heirs seemed paralyzed with a sort of stupor. Then the fatgentleman muttered:

"Geminy!"

And the corporal moaned:

"Oh, captain!. .. Oh, captain!. .. "

The two sisters fell in a dead faint. The lady with the little dogdropped on her knees and prayed, while the footman, staggering like adrunken man, held his head in his two hands, and Louise d'Ernemont wept. 

When calm was restored and all became eager to thank Captain Jeanniot, they saw that he was gone. 

 * * * * *

Some years passed before I had an opportunity of talking to Lupin aboutthis business. He was in a confidential vein and answered:

"The business of the eighteen diamonds? By Jove, when I think that threeor four generations of my fellow-men had been hunting for the solution!And the eighteen diamonds were there all the time, under a little mudand dust!"

"But how did you guess?. .. "

"I did not guess. I reflected. I doubt if I need even have reflected. I was struck, from the beginning, by the fact that the wholecircumstance was governed by one primary question: the question of time. When Charles d'Ernemont was still in possession of his wits, he wrote adate upon the three pictures. Later, in the gloom in which he wasstruggling, a faint glimmer of intelligence led him every year to thecentre of the old garden; and the same faint glimmer led him away fromit every year at the same moment, that is to say, at twenty-sevenminutes past five. Something must have acted on the disordered machineryof his brain in this way. What was the superior force that controlledthe poor madman's movements? Obviously, the instinctive notion of timerepresented by the sun-dial in the farmer-general's pictures. It was theannual revolution of the earth around the sun that brought Charlesd'Ernemont back to the garden at a fixed date. And it was the earth'sdaily revolution upon its own axis that took him from it at a fixedhour, that is to say, at the hour, most likely, when the sun, concealedby objects different from those of to-day, ceased to light the Passygarden. Now of all this the sun-dial was the symbol. And that is why Iat once knew where to look. "

"But how did you settle the hour at which to begin looking?"

"Simply by the pictures. A man living at that time, such as Charlesd'Ernemont, would have written either 26 Germinal, Year II, or else 15April, 1794, but not 15 April, Year II. I was astounded that no one hadthought of that. "

"Then the figure 2 stood for two o'clock?"

"Evidently. And what must have happened was this: the farmer-generalbegan by turning his fortune into solid gold and silver money. Then, byway of additional precaution, with this gold and silver he boughteighteen wonderful diamonds. When he was surprised by the arrival of thepatrol, he fled into his garden. Which was the best place to hide thediamonds? Chance caused his eyes to light upon the sun-dial. It was twoo'clock. The shadow of the arrow was then falling along the crack in themarble. He obeyed this sign of the shadow, rammed his eighteen diamondsinto the dust and calmly went back and surrendered to the soldiers. "

"But the shadow of the arrow coincides with the crack in the marbleevery day of the year and not only on the 15th of April. "

"You forget, my dear chap, that we are dealing with a lunatic and thathe remembered only this date of the 15th of April. "

"Very well; but you, once you had solved the riddle, could easily havemade your way into the enclosure and taken the diamonds. "

"Quite true; and I should not have hesitated, if I had had to do withpeople of another description. But I really felt sorry for those poorwretches. And then you know the sort of idiot that Lupin is. The idea ofappearing suddenly as a benevolent genius and amazing his kind would beenough to make him commit any sort of folly. "

"Tah!" I cried. "The folly was not so great as all that. Six magnificentdiamonds! How delighted the d'Ernemont heirs must have been to fulfiltheir part of the contract!"

Lupin looked at me and burst into uncontrollable laughter:

"So you haven't heard? Oh, what a joke! The delight of the d'Ernemontheirs!. .. . Why, my dear fellow, on the next day, that worthy CaptainJeanniot had so many mortal enemies! On the very next day, the two leansisters and the fat gentleman organized an opposition. A contract? Notworth the paper it was written on, because, as could easily be proved, there was no such person as Captain Jeanniot. Where did that adventurerspring from? Just let him sue them and they'd soon show him what waswhat!"

"Louise d'Ernemont too?"

"No, Louise d'Ernemont protested against that piece of rascality. Butwhat could she do against so many? Besides, now that she was rich, shegot back her young man. I haven't heard of her since. "

"So . .. ?"

"So, my dear fellow, I was caught in a trap, with not a leg to stand on, and I had to compromise and accept one modest diamond as my share, thesmallest and the least handsome of the lot. That comes of doing one'sbest to help people!"

And Lupin grumbled between his teeth:

"Oh, gratitude!. .. All humbug!. .. Where should we honest men be if wehad not our conscience and the satisfaction of duty performed to rewardus?"

IV

THE INFERNAL TRAP

When the race was over, a crowd of people, streaming toward the exitfrom the grand stand, pushed against Nicolas Dugrival. He brought hishand smartly to the inside pocket of his jacket. 

"What's the matter?" asked his wife. 

"I still feel nervous . .. With that money on me! I'm afraid of somenasty accident. "

She muttered:

"And I can't understand you. How can you think of carrying such a sumabout with you? Every farthing we possess! Lord knows, it cost ustrouble enough to earn!"

"Pooh!" he said. "No one would guess that it is here, in mypocket-book. "

"Yes, yes, " she grumbled. "That young man-servant whom we dischargedlast week knew all about it, didn't he, Gabriel?"

"Yes, aunt, " said a youth standing beside her. 

Nicolas Dugrival, his wife and his nephew Gabriel were well-knownfigures at the race-meetings, where the regular frequenters saw themalmost every day: Dugrival, a big, fat, red-faced man, who looked as ifhe knew how to enjoy life; his wife, also built on heavy lines, with acoarse, vulgar face, and always dressed in a plum-coloured silk much theworse for wear; the nephew, quite young, slender, with pale features, dark eyes and fair and rather curly hair. 

As a rule, the couple remained seated throughout the afternoon. It wasGabriel who betted for his uncle, watching the horses in the paddock, picking up tips to right and left among the jockeys and stable-lads, running backward and forward between the stands and the _pari-mutuel_. 

Luck had favoured them that day, for, three times, Dugrival's neighbourssaw the young man come back and hand him money. 

The fifth race was just finishing. Dugrival lit a cigar. At that moment, a gentleman in a tight-fitting brown suit, with a face ending in apeaked gray beard, came up to him and asked, in a confidential whisper:

"Does this happen to belong to you, sir?"

And he displayed a gold watch and chain. 

Dugrival gave a start:

"Why, yes . .. It's mine. .. . Look, here are my initials, N. G. : NicolasDugrival!"

And he at once, with a movement of terror, clapped his hand to hisjacket-pocket. The note-case was still there. 

"Ah, " he said, greatly relieved, "that's a piece of luck!. .. But, allthe same, how on earth was it done?. .. Do you know the scoundrel?"

"Yes, we've got him locked up. Pray come with me and we'll soon lookinto the matter. "

"Whom have I the honour . .. ?"

"M. Delangle, detective-inspector. I have sent to let M. Marquenne, themagistrate, know. "

Nicolas Dugrival went out with the inspector; and the two of themstarted for the commissary's office, some distance behind the grandstand. They were within fifty yards of it, when the inspector wasaccosted by a man who said to him, hurriedly:

"The fellow with the watch has blabbed; we are on the tracks of a wholegang. M. Marquenne wants you to wait for him at the _pari-mutuel_ and tokeep a look-out near the fourth booth. "

There was a crowd outside the betting-booths and Inspector Delanglemuttered:

"It's an absurd arrangement. .. . Whom am I to look out for?. .. That'sjust like M. Marquenne!. .. "

He pushed aside a group of people who were crowding too close upon him:

"By Jove, one has to use one's elbows here and keep a tight hold onone's purse. That's the way you got your watch pinched, M. Dugrival!"

"I can't understand. .. . "

"Oh, if you knew how those gentry go to work! One never guesses whatthey're up to next. One of them treads on your foot, another gives you apoke in the eye with his stick and the third picks your pocket beforeyou know where you are. .. . I've been had that way myself. " He stoppedand then continued, angrily. "But, bother it, what's the use of hangingabout here! What a mob! It's unbearable!. .. Ah, there's M. Marquennemaking signs to us!. .. One moment, please . .. And be sure and wait forme here. "

He shouldered his way through the crowd. Nicolas Dugrival followed himfor a moment with his eyes. Once the inspector was out of sight, hestood a little to one side, to avoid being hustled. 

A few minutes passed. The sixth race was about to start, when Dugrivalsaw his wife and nephew looking for him. He explained to them thatInspector Delangle was arranging matters with the magistrate. 

"Have you your money still?" asked his wife. 

"Why, of course I have!" he replied. "The inspector and I took goodcare, I assure you, not to let the crowd jostle us. "

He felt his jacket, gave a stifled cry, thrust his hand into his pocketand began to stammer inarticulate syllables, while Mme. Dugrival gasped, in dismay:

"What is it? What's the matter?"

"Stolen!" he moaned. "The pocket-book . .. The fifty notes!. .. "

"It's not true!" she screamed. "It's not true!"

"Yes, the inspector . .. A common sharper . .. He's the man. .. . "

She uttered absolute yells:

"Thief! Thief! Stop thief!. .. My husband's been robbed!. .. Fiftythousand francs!. .. We are ruined!. .. Thief! Thief . .. "

In a moment they were surrounded by policemen and taken to thecommissary's office. Dugrival went like a lamb, absolutely bewildered. His wife continued to shriek at the top of her voice, piling upexplanations, railing against the inspector:

"Have him looked for!. .. Have him found!. .. A brown suit. .. . A pointedbeard. .. . Oh, the villain, to think what he's robbed us of!. .. Fiftythousand francs!. .. Why . .. Why, Dugrival, what are you doing?"

With one bound, she flung herself upon her husband. Too late! He hadpressed the barrel of a revolver against his temple. A shot rang out. Dugrival fell. He was dead. 

 * * * * *

The reader cannot have forgotten the commotion made by the newspapers inconnection with this case, nor how they jumped at the opportunity oncemore to accuse the police of carelessness and blundering. Was itconceivable that a pick-pocket could play the part of an inspector likethat, in broad daylight and in a public place, and rob a respectable manwith impunity?

Nicolas Dugrival's widow kept the controversy alive, thanks to herjeremiads and to the interviews which she granted on every hand. Areporter had secured a snapshot of her in front of her husband's body, holding up her hand and swearing to revenge his death. Her nephewGabriel was standing beside her, with hatred pictured in his face. He, too, it appeared, in a few words uttered in a whisper, but in a tone offierce determination, had taken an oath to pursue and catch themurderer. 

The accounts described the humble apartment which they occupied at theBatignolles; and, as they had been robbed of all their means, asporting-paper opened a subscription on their behalf. 

As for the mysterious Delangle, he remained undiscovered. Two men werearrested, but had to be released forthwith. The police took up a numberof clues, which were at once abandoned; more than one name wasmentioned; and, lastly, they accused Arsène Lupin, an action whichprovoked the famous burglar's celebrated cable, dispatched from New Yorksix days after the incident:

 "Protest indignantly against calumny invented by baffled police. Send my condolences to unhappy victims. Instructing my bankers to remit them fifty thousand francs. 

 "LUPIN. "

True enough, on the day after the publication of the cable, a strangerrang at Mme. Dugrival's door and handed her an envelope. The envelopecontained fifty thousand-franc notes. 

This theatrical stroke was not at all calculated to allay the universalcomment. But an event soon occurred which provided any amount ofadditional excitement. Two days later, the people living in the samehouse as Mme. Dugrival and her nephew were awakened, at four o'clock inthe morning, by horrible cries and shrill calls for help. They rushed tothe flat. The porter succeeded in opening the door. By the light of alantern carried by one of the neighbours, he found Gabriel stretched atfull-length in his bedroom, with his wrists and ankles bound and a gagforced into his mouth, while, in the next room, Mme. Dugrival lay withher life's blood ebbing away through a great gash in her breast. 

She whispered:

"The money. .. . I've been robbed. .. . All the notes gone. .. . "

And she fainted away. 

What had happened? Gabriel said--and, as soon as she was able to speak, Mme. Dugrival completed her nephew's story--that he was startled fromhis sleep by finding himself attacked by two men, one of whom gaggedhim, while the other fastened him down. He was unable to see the men inthe dark, but he heard the noise of the struggle between them and hisaunt. It was a terrible struggle, Mme. Dugrival declared. The ruffians, who obviously knew their way about, guided by some intuition, madestraight for the little cupboard containing the money and, in spite ofher resistance and outcries, laid hands upon the bundle of bank-notes. As they left, one of them, whom she had bitten in the arm, stabbed herwith a knife, whereupon the men had both fled. 

"Which way?" she was asked. 

"Through the door of my bedroom and afterward, I suppose, through thehall-door. "

"Impossible! The porter would have noticed them. "

For the whole mystery lay in this: how had the ruffians entered thehouse and how did they manage to leave it? There was no outlet open tothem. Was it one of the tenants? A careful inquiry proved the absurdityof such a supposition. 

What then?

Chief-inspector Ganimard, who was placed in special charge of the case, confessed that he had never known anything more bewildering:

"It's very like Lupin, " he said, "and yet it's not Lupin. .. . No, there'smore in it than meets the eye, something very doubtful andsuspicious. .. . Besides, if it were Lupin, why should he take back thefifty thousand francs which he sent? There's another question thatpuzzles me: what is the connection between the second robbery and thefirst, the one on the race-course? The whole thing is incomprehensibleand I have a sort of feeling--which is very rare with me--that it is nouse hunting. For my part, I give it up. "

The examining-magistrate threw himself into the case with heart andsoul. The reporters united their efforts with those of the police. Afamous English sleuth-hound crossed the Channel. A wealthy American, whose head had been turned by detective-stories, offered a big reward towhosoever should supply the first information leading to the discoveryof the truth. Six weeks later, no one was any the wiser. The publicadopted Ganimard's view; and the examining-magistrate himself grew tiredof struggling in a darkness which only became denser as time went on. 

And life continued as usual with Dugrival's widow. Nursed by her nephew, she soon recovered from her wound. In the mornings, Gabriel settled herin an easy-chair at the dining-room window, did the rooms and then wentout marketing. He cooked their lunch without even accepting theproffered assistance of the porter's wife. 

Worried by the police investigations and especially by the requests forinterviews, the aunt and nephew refused to see anybody. Not even theportress, whose chatter disturbed and wearied Mme. Dugrival, wasadmitted. She fell back upon Gabriel, whom she accosted each time thathe passed her room:

"Take care, M. Gabriel, you're both of you being spied upon. There aremen watching you. Why, only last night, my husband caught a fellowstaring up at your windows. "

"Nonsense!" said Gabriel. "It's all right. That's the police, protectingus. "

One afternoon, at about four o'clock, there was a violent altercationbetween two costermongers at the bottom of the street. The porter's wifeat once left her room to listen to the invectives which the adversarieswere hurling at each other's heads. Her back was no sooner turned thana man, young, of medium height and dressed in a gray suit ofirreproachable cut, slipped into the house and ran up the staircase. 

When he came to the third floor, he rang the bell. Receiving no answer, he rang again. At the third summons, the door opened. 

"Mme. Dugrival?" he asked, taking off his hat. 

"Mme. Dugrival is still an invalid and unable to see any one, " saidGabriel, who stood in the hall. 

"It's most important that I should speak to her. "

"I am her nephew and perhaps I could take her a message. .. . "

"Very well, " said the man. "Please tell Mme. Dugrival that an accidenthas supplied me with valuable information concerning the robbery fromwhich she has suffered and that I should like to go over the flat andascertain certain particulars for myself. I am accustomed to this sortof inquiry; and my call is sure to be of use to her. "

Gabriel examined the visitor for a moment, reflected and said:

"In that case, I suppose my aunt will consent . .. Pray come in. "

He opened the door of the dining-room and stepped back to allow theother to pass. The stranger walked to the threshold, but, at the momentwhen he was crossing it, Gabriel raised his arm and, with a swiftmovement, struck him with a dagger over the right shoulder. 

A burst of laughter rang through the room:

"Got him!" cried Mme. Dugrival, darting up from her chair. "Well done, Gabriel! But, I say, you haven't killed the scoundrel, have you?"

"I don't think so, aunt. It's a small blade and I didn't strike him toohard. "

The man was staggering, with his hands stretched in front of him and hisface deathly pale. 

"You fool!" sneered the widow. "So you've fallen into the trap . .. And agood job too! We've been looking out for you a long time. Come, my finefellow, down with you! You don't care about it, do you? But you can'thelp yourself, you see. That's right: one knee on the ground, before themissus . .. Now the other knee. .. . How well we've been brought up!. .. Crash, there we go on the floor! Lord, if my poor Dugrival could onlysee him like that!. .. And now, Gabriel, to work!"

She went to her bedroom and opened one of the doors of a hangingwardrobe filled with dresses. Pulling these aside, she pushed openanother door which formed the back of the wardrobe and led to a room inthe next house:

"Help me carry him, Gabriel. And you'll nurse him as well as you can, won't you? For the present, he's worth his weight in gold to us, theartist!. .. "

 * * * * *

The hours succeeded one another. Days passed. 

One morning, the wounded man regained a moment's consciousness. Heraised his eyelids and looked around him. 

He was lying in a room larger than that in which he had been stabbed, aroom sparsely furnished, with thick curtains hanging before the windowsfrom top to bottom. There was light enough, however, to enable him tosee young Gabriel Dugrival seated on a chair beside him and watchinghim. 

"Ah, it's you, youngster!" he murmured. "I congratulate you, my lad. Youhave a sure and pretty touch with the dagger. "

And he fell asleep again. 

That day and the following days, he woke up several times and, eachtime, he saw the stripling's pale face, his thin lips and his dark eyes, with the hard look in them:

"You frighten me, " he said. "If you have sworn to do for me, don't standon ceremony. But cheer up, for goodness' sake. The thought of death hasalways struck me as the most humorous thing in the world. Whereas, withyou, old chap, it simply becomes lugubrious. I prefer to go to sleep. Good-night!"

Still, Gabriel, in obedience to Mme. Dugrival's orders, continued tonurse him with the utmost care and attention. The patient was almostfree from fever and was beginning to take beef-tea and milk. He gained alittle strength and jested:

"When will the convalescent be allowed his first drive? Is thebath-chair there? Why, cheer up, stupid! You look like a weeping-willowcontemplating a crime. Come, just one little smile for daddy!"

One day, on waking, he had a very unpleasant feeling of constraint. After a few efforts, he perceived that, during his sleep, his legs, chest and arms had been fastened to the bedstead with thin wire strandsthat cut into his flesh at the least movements. 

"Ah, " he said to his keeper, "this time it's the great performance! Thechicken's going to be bled. Are you operating, Angel Gabriel? If so, seethat your razor's nice and clean, old chap! The antiseptic treatment, _if_ you please!"

But he was interrupted by the sound of a key grating in the lock. Thedoor opposite opened and Mme. Dugrival appeared. 

She approached slowly, took a chair and, producing a revolver from herpocket, cocked it and laid it on the table by the bedside. 

"Brrrrr!" said the prisoner. "We might be at the Ambigu!. .. Fourth act:the Traitor's Doom. And the fair sex to do the deed. .. . The hand of theGraces. .. . What an honour!. .. Mme. Dugrival, I rely on you not todisfigure me. "

"Hold your tongue, Lupin. "

"Ah, so you know?. .. By Jove, how clever we are!"

"Hold your tongue, Lupin. "

There was a solemn note in her voice that impressed the captive andcompelled him to silence. He watched his two gaolers in turns. Thebloated features and red complexion of Mme. Dugrival formed a strikingcontrast with her nephew's refined face; but they both wore the same airof implacable resolve. 

The widow leant forward and said:

"Are you prepared to answer my questions?"

"Why not?"

"Then listen to me. How did you know that Dugrival carried all his moneyin his pocket?"

"Servants' gossip. .. . "

"A young man-servant whom we had in our employ: was that it?"

"Yes. "

"And did you steal Dugrival's watch in order to give it back to him andinspire him with confidence?"

"Yes. "

She suppressed a movement of fury:

"You fool! You fool!. .. What! You rob my man, you drive him to killhimself and, instead of making tracks to the uttermost ends of the earthand hiding yourself, you go on playing Lupin in the heart of Paris!. .. Did you forget that I swore, on my dead husband's head, to find hismurderer?"

"That's what staggers me, " said Lupin. "How did you come to suspect me?"

"How? Why, you gave yourself away!"

"I did?. .. "

"Of course. .. . The fifty thousand francs. .. . "

"Well, what about it? A present. .. . "

"Yes, a present which you gave cabled instructions to have sent to me, so as to make believe that you were in America on the day of the races. A present, indeed! What humbug! The fact is, you didn't like to think ofthe poor fellow whom you had murdered. So you restored the money to thewidow, publicly, of course, because you love playing to the gallery andranting and posing, like the mountebank that you are. That was all verynicely thought out. Only, my fine fellow, you ought not to have sent methe selfsame notes that were stolen from Dugrival! Yes, you silly fool, the selfsame notes and no others! We knew the numbers, Dugrival and Idid. And you were stupid enough to send the bundle to me. Now do youunderstand your folly?"

Lupin began to laugh:

"It was a pretty blunder, I confess. I'm not responsible; I gavedifferent orders. But, all the same I can't blame any one exceptmyself. "

"Ah, so you admit it! You signed your theft and you signed your ruin atthe same time. There was nothing left to be done but to find you. Findyou? No, better than that. Sensible people don't find Lupin: they makehim come to them! That was a masterly notion. It belongs to my youngnephew, who loathes you as much as I do, if possible, and who knows youthoroughly, through reading all the books that have been written aboutyou. He knows your prying nature, your need to be always plotting, yourmania for hunting in the dark and unravelling what others have failed tounravel. He also knows that sort of sham kindness of yours, thedrivelling sentimentality that makes you shed crocodile tears over thepeople you victimize; And he planned the whole farce! He invented thestory of the two burglars, the second theft of fifty thousand francs!Oh, I swear to you, before Heaven, that the stab which I gave myselfwith my own hands never hurt me! And I swear to you, before Heaven, thatwe spent a glorious time waiting for you, the boy and I, peeping out atyour confederates who prowled under our windows, taking their bearings!And there was no mistake about it: you were bound to come! Seeing thatyou had restored the Widow Dugrival's fifty thousand francs, it was outof the question that you should allow the Widow Dugrival to be robbed ofher fifty thousand francs! You were bound to come, attracted by thescent of the mystery. You were bound to come, for swagger, out ofvanity! And you come!"

The widow gave a strident laugh:

"Well played, wasn't it? The Lupin of Lupins, the master of masters, inaccessible and invisible, caught in a trap by a woman and a boy!. .. Here he is in flesh and bone . .. Here he is with hands and feet tied, nomore dangerous than a sparrow . .. Here is he . .. Here he is!. .. "

She shook with joy and began to pace the room, throwing sidelong glancesat the bed, like a wild beast that does not for a moment take its eyesfrom its victim. And never had Lupin beheld greater hatred and savageryin any human being. 

"Enough of this prattle, " she said. 

Suddenly restraining herself, she stalked back to him and, in a quitedifferent tone, in a hollow voice, laying stress on every syllable:

"Thanks to the papers in your pocket, Lupin, I have made good use of thelast twelve days. I know all your affairs, all your schemes, all yourassumed names, all the organization of your band, all the lodgings whichyou possess in Paris and elsewhere. I have even visited one of them, themost secret, the one where you hide your papers, your ledgers and thewhole story of your financial operations. The result of myinvestigations is very satisfactory. Here are four cheques, taken fromfour cheque-books and corresponding with four accounts which you keep atfour different banks under four different names. I have filled in eachof them for ten thousand francs. A larger figure would have been toorisky. And, now, sign. "

"By Jove!" said Lupin, sarcastically. "This is blackmail, my worthy Mme. Dugrival. "

"That takes your breath away, what?"

"It takes my breath away, as you say. "

"And you find an adversary who is a match for you?"

"The adversary is far beyond me. So the trap--let us call itinfernal--the infernal trap into which I have fallen was laid not merelyby a widow thirsting for revenge, but also by a first-rate businesswoman anxious to increase her capital?"

"Just so. "

"My congratulations. And, while I think of it, used M. Dugrival perhapsto . .. ?"

"You have hit it, Lupin. After all, why conceal the fact? It willrelieve your conscience. Yes, Lupin, Dugrival used to work on the samelines as yourself. Oh, not on the same scale!. .. We were modest people:a louis here, a louis there . .. A purse or two which we trained Gabrielto pick up at the races. .. . And, in this way, we had made our littlepile . .. Just enough to buy a small place in the country. "

"I prefer it that way, " said Lupin. 

"That's all right! I'm only telling you, so that you may know that I amnot a beginner and that you have nothing to hope for. A rescue? No. Theroom in which we now are communicates with my bedroom. It has a privateoutlet of which nobody knows. It was Dugrival's special apartment. Heused to see his friends here. He kept his implements and tools here, hisdisguises . .. His telephone even, as you perceive. So there's no hope, you see. Your accomplices have given up looking for you here. I havesent them off on another track. Your goose is cooked. Do you begin torealize the position?"

"Yes. "

"Then sign the cheques. "

"And, when I have signed them, shall I be free?"

"I must cash them first. "

"And after that?"

"After that, on my soul, as I hope to be saved, you will be free. "

"I don't trust you. "

"Have you any choice?"

"That's true. Hand me the cheques. "

She unfastened Lupin's right hand, gave him a pen and said:

"Don't forget that the four cheques require four different signaturesand that the handwriting has to be altered in each case. "

"Never fear. "

He signed the cheques. 

"Gabriel, " said the widow, "it is ten o'clock. If I am not back bytwelve, it will mean that this scoundrel has played me one of histricks. At twelve o'clock, blow out his brains. I am leaving you therevolver with which your uncle shot himself. There are five bullets leftout of the six. That will be ample. "

She left the room, humming a tune as she went. 

Lupin mumbled:

"I wouldn't give twopence for my life. "

He shut his eyes for an instant and then, suddenly, said to Gabriel:

"How much?"

And, when the other did not appear to understand, he grew irritated:

"I mean what I say. How much? Answer me, can't you? We drive the sametrade, you and I. I steal, thou stealest, we steal. So we ought to cometo terms: that's what we are here for. Well? Is it a bargain? Shall weclear out together. I will give you a post in my gang, an easy, well-paid post. How much do you want for yourself? Ten thousand? Twentythousand? Fix your own price; don't be shy. There's plenty to be had forthe asking. "

An angry shiver passed through his frame as he saw the impassive face ofhis keeper:

"Oh, the beggar won't even answer! Why, you can't have been so fond ofold Dugrival as all that! Listen to me: if you consent to releaseme. .. . "

But he interrupted himself. The young man's eyes wore the cruelexpression which he knew so well. What was the use of trying to movehim?

"Hang it all!" he snarled. "I'm not going to croak here, like a dog! Oh, if I could only. .. . "

Stiffening all his muscles, he tried to burst his bonds, making aviolent effort that drew a cry of pain from him; and he fell back uponhis bed, exhausted. 

"Well, well, " he muttered, after a moment, "it's as the widow said: mygoose is cooked. Nothing to be done. _De profundis_, Lupin. "

A quarter of an hour passed, half an hour. .. . 

Gabriel, moving closer to Lupin, saw that his eyes were shut and thathis breath came evenly, like that of a man sleeping. But Lupin said:

"Don't imagine that I'm asleep, youngster. No, people don't sleep at amoment like this. Only I am consoling myself. Needs must, eh?. .. Andthen I am thinking of what is to come after. .. . Exactly. I have a littletheory of my own about that. You wouldn't think it, to look at me, but Ibelieve in metempsychosis, in the transmigration of souls. It would taketoo long to explain, however. .. . I say, boy . .. Suppose we shook handsbefore we part? You won't? Then good-bye. Good health and a long life toyou, Gabriel!. .. "

He closed his eyelids and did not stir again before Mme. Dugrival'sreturn. 

The widow entered with a lively step, at a few minutes before twelve. She seemed greatly excited:

"I have the money, " she said to her nephew. "Run away. I'll join you inthe motor down below. "

"But. .. . "

"I don't want your help to finish him off. I can do that alone. Still, if you feel like seeing the sort of a face a rogue can pull. .. . Pass methe weapon. "

Gabriel handed her the revolver and the widow continued:

"Have you burnt our papers?"

"Yes. "

"Then to work. And, as soon as he's done for, be off. The shots maybring the neighbours. They must find both the flats empty. "

She went up to the bed:

"Are you ready, Lupin?"

"Ready's not the word: I'm burning with impatience. "

"Have you any request to make of me?"

"None. "

"Then. .. . "

"One word, though. "

"What is it?"

"If I meet Dugrival in the next world, what message am I to give himfrom you?"

She shrugged her shoulders and put the barrel of the revolver to Lupin'stemple. 

"That's it, " he said, "and be sure your hand doesn't shake, my dearlady. It won't hurt you, I swear. Are you ready? At the word of command, eh? One . .. Two . .. Three. .. . "

The widow pulled the trigger. A shot rang out. 

"Is this death?" said Lupin. "That's funny! I should have thought it wassomething much more different from life!"

There was a second shot. Gabriel snatched the weapon from his aunt'shands and examined it:

"Ah, " he exclaimed, "the bullets have been removed!. .. There are onlythe percussion-caps left!. .. "

His aunt and he stood motionless, for a moment, and confused:

"Impossible!" she blurted out. "Who could have done it?. .. Aninspector?. .. The examining-magistrate?. .. "

She stopped and, in a low voice:

"Hark. .. . I hear a noise. .. . "

They listened and the widow went into the hall. She returned, furious, exasperated by her failure and by the scare which she had received:

"There's nobody there. .. . It must have been the neighbours going out. .. . We have plenty of time. .. . Ah, Lupin, you were beginning to makemerry!. .. The knife, Gabriel. "

"It's in my room. "

"Go and fetch it. "

Gabriel hurried away. The widow stamped with rage:

"I've sworn to do it!. .. You've got to suffer, my fine fellow!. .. Iswore to Dugrival that I would do it and I have repeated my oath everymorning and evening since. .. . I have taken it on my knees, yes, on myknees, before Heaven that listens to me! It's my duty and my right torevenge my dead husband!. .. By the way, Lupin, you don't look quite asmerry as you did!. .. Lord, one would almost think you were afraid!. .. He's afraid! He's afraid! I can see it in his eyes!. .. Come along, Gabriel, my boy!. .. Look at his eyes!. .. Look at his lips!. .. He'strembling!. .. Give me the knife, so that I may dig it into his heartwhile he's shivering. .. . Oh, you coward!. .. Quick, quick, Gabriel, theknife!. .. "

"I can't find it anywhere, " said the young man, running back in dismay. "It has gone from my room! I can't make it out!"

"Never mind!" cried the Widow Dugrival, half demented. "All the better!I will do the business myself. "

She seized Lupin by the throat, clutched him with her ten fingers, digging her nails into his flesh, and began to squeeze with all hermight. Lupin uttered a hoarse rattle and gave himself up for lost. 

Suddenly, there was a crash at the window. One of the panes was smashedto pieces. 

"What's that? What is it?" stammered the widow, drawing herself erect, in alarm. 

Gabriel, who had turned even paler than usual, murmured:

"I don't know. .. . I can't think. .. . "

"Who can have done it?" said the widow. 

She dared not move, waiting for what would come next. And one thingabove all terrified her, the fact that there was no missile on the flooraround them, although the pane of glass, as was clearly visible, hadgiven way before the crash of a heavy and fairly large object, a stone, probably. 

After a while, she looked under the bed, under the chest of drawers:

"Nothing, " she said. 

"No, " said her nephew, who was also looking. And, resuming her seat, shesaid:

"I feel frightened . .. My arms fail me . .. You finish him off. .. . "

Gabriel confessed:

"I'm frightened also. "

"Still . .. Still, " she stammered, "it's got to be done. .. . I sworeit. .. . "

Making one last effort, she returned to Lupin and gasped his neck withher stiff fingers. But Lupin, who was watching her pallid face, receiveda very clear sensation that she would not have the courage to kill him. To her he was becoming something sacred, invulnerable. A mysteriouspower was protecting him against every attack, a power which had alreadysaved him three times by inexplicable means and which would find othermeans to protect him against the wiles of death. 

She said to him, in a hoarse voice:

"How you must be laughing at me!"

"Not at all, upon my word. I should feel frightened myself, in yourplace. "

"Nonsense, you scum of the earth! You imagine that you will be rescued. .. That your friends are waiting outside? It's out of the question, myfine fellow. "

"I know. It's not they defending me . .. Nobody's defending me. .. . "

"Well, then?. .. "

"Well, all the same, there's something strange at the bottom of it, something fantastic and miraculous that makes your flesh creep, my finelady. "

"You villain!. .. You'll be laughing on the other side of your mouthbefore long. "

"I doubt it. "

"You wait and see. "

She reflected once more and said to her nephew:

"What would you do?"

"Fasten his arm again and let's be off, " he replied. 

A hideous suggestion! It meant condemning Lupin to the most horrible ofall deaths, death by starvation. 

"No, " said the widow. "He might still find a means of escape. I knowsomething better than that. "

She took down the receiver of the telephone, waited and asked:

"Number 822. 48, please. "

And, after a second or two:

"Hullo!. .. Is that the Criminal Investigation Department?. .. IsChief-inspector Ganimard there?. .. In twenty minutes, you say?. .. I'msorry!. .. However!. .. When he comes, give him this message from Mme. Dugrival. .. . Yes, Mme. Nicolas Dugrival. .. . Ask him to come to my flat. Tell him to open the looking-glass door of my wardrobe; and, when he hasdone so, he will see that the wardrobe hides an outlet which makes mybedroom communicate with two other rooms. In one of these, he will finda man bound hand and foot. It is the thief, Dugrival's murderer. .. . Youdon't believe me?. .. Tell M. Ganimard; he'll believe me right enough. .. . Oh, I was almost forgetting to give you the man's name: Arsène Lupin!"

And, without another word, she replaced the receiver. 

"There, Lupin, that's done. After all, I would just as soon have myrevenge this way. How I shall hold my sides when I read the reports ofthe Lupin trial!. .. Are you coming, Gabriel?"

"Yes, aunt. "

"Good-bye, Lupin. You and I sha'n't see each other again, I expect, forwe are going abroad. But I promise to send you some sweets while you'rein prison. "

"Chocolates, mother! We'll eat them together!"

"Good-bye. "

"_Au revoir. _"

The widow went out with her nephew, leaving Lupin fastened down to thebed. 

He at once moved his free arm and tried to release himself; but herealized, at the first attempt, that he would never have the strength tobreak the wire strands that bound him. Exhausted with fever and pain, what could he do in the twenty minutes or so that were left to himbefore Ganimard's arrival?

Nor did he count upon his friends. True, he had been thrice saved fromdeath; but this was evidently due to an astounding series of accidentsand not to any interference on the part of his allies. Otherwise theywould not have contented themselves with these extraordinarymanifestations, but would have rescued him for good and all. 

No, he must abandon all hope. Ganimard was coming. Ganimard would findhim there. It was inevitable. There was no getting away from the fact. 

And the prospect of what was coming irritated him singularly. He alreadyheard his old enemy's gibes ringing in his ears. He foresaw the roars oflaughter with which the incredible news would be greeted on the morrow. To be arrested in action, so to speak, on the battlefield, by animposing detachment of adversaries, was one thing: but to be arrested, or rather picked up, scraped up, gathered up, in such condition, wasreally too silly. And Lupin, who had so often scoffed at others, feltall the ridicule that was falling to his share in this ending of theDugrival business, all the bathos of allowing himself to be caught inthe widow's infernal trap and finally of being "served up" to the policelike a dish of game, roasted to a turn and nicely seasoned. 

"Blow the widow!" he growled. "I had rather she had cut my throat anddone with it. "

He pricked up his ears. Some one was moving in the next room. Ganimard!No. Great as his eagerness would be, he could not be there yet. Besides, Ganimard would not have acted like that, would not have opened the dooras gently as that other person was doing. What other person? Lupinremembered the three miraculous interventions to which he owed his life. Was it possible that there was really somebody who had protected himagainst the widow, and that that somebody was now attempting to rescuehim? But, if so, who?

Unseen by Lupin, the stranger stooped behind the bed. Lupin heard thesound of the pliers attacking the wire strands and releasing him littleby little. First his chest was freed, then his arms, then his legs. 

And a voice said to him:

"You must get up and dress. "

Feeling very weak, he half-raised himself in bed at the moment when thestranger rose from her stooping posture. 

"Who are you?" he whispered. "Who are you?"

And a great surprise over came him. 

By his side stood a woman, a woman dressed in black, with a lace shawlover her head, covering part of her face. And the woman, as far as hecould judge, was young and of a graceful and slender stature. 

"Who are you?" he repeated. 

"You must come now, " said the woman. "There's no time to lose. "

"Can I?" asked Lupin, making a desperate effort. "I doubt if I have thestrength. "

"Drink this. "

She poured some milk into a cup; and, as she handed it to him, her laceopened, leaving the face uncovered. 

"You!" he stammered. "It's you!. .. It's you who . .. It was you whowere. .. . "

He stared in amazement at this woman whose features presented sostriking a resemblance to Gabriel's, whose delicate, regular face hadthe same pallor, whose mouth wore the same hard and forbiddingexpression. No sister could have borne so great a likeness to herbrother. There was not a doubt possible: it was the identical person. And, without believing for a moment that Gabriel had concealed himselfin a woman's clothes, Lupin, on the contrary, received the distinctimpression that it was a woman standing beside him and that thestripling who had pursued him with his hatred and struck him with thedagger was in very deed a woman. In order to follow their trade withgreater ease, the Dugrival pair had accustomed her to disguise herselfas a boy. 

"You . .. You . .. !" he repeated. "Who would have suspected . .. ?"

She emptied the contents of a phial into the cup:

"Drink this cordial, " she said. 

He hesitated, thinking of poison. 

She added:

"It was I who saved you. "

"Of course, of course, " he said. "It was you who removed the bulletsfrom the revolver?"

"Yes. "

"And you who hid the knife?"

"Here it is, in my pocket. "

"And you who smashed the window-pane while your aunt was throttling me?"

"Yes, it was I, with the paper-weight on the table: I threw it into thestreet. "

"But why? Why?" he asked, in utter amazement. 

"Drink the cordial. "

"Didn't you want me to die? But then why did you stab me to begin with?"

"Drink the cordial. "

He emptied the cup at a draught, without quite knowing the reason of hissudden confidence. 

"Dress yourself . .. Quickly, " she commanded, retiring to the window. 

He obeyed and she came back to him, for he had dropped into a chair, exhausted. 

"We must go now, we must, we have only just time. .. . Collect yourstrength. "

She bent forward a little, so that he might lean on her shoulder, andturned toward the door and the staircase. 

And Lupin walked as one walks in a dream, one of those queer dreams inwhich the most inconsequent things occur, a dream that was the happysequel of the terrible nightmare in which he had lived for the pastfortnight. 

A thought struck him, however. He began to laugh:

"Poor Ganimard! Upon my word, the fellow has no luck, I would givetwopence to see him coming to arrest me. "

After descending the staircase with the aid of his companion, whosupported him with incredible vigour, he found himself in the street, opposite a motor-car into which she helped him to mount. 

"Right away, " she said to the driver. 

Lupin, dazed by the open air and the speed at which they weretravelling, hardly took stock of the drive and of the incidents on theroad. He recovered all his consciousness when he found himself at homein one of the flats which he occupied, looked after by his servant, towhom the girl gave a few rapid instructions. 

"You can go, " he said to the man. 

But, when the girl turned to go as well, he held her back by a fold ofher dress. 

"No . .. No . .. You must first explain. .. . Why did you save me? Did youreturn unknown to your aunt? But why did you save me? Was it from pity?"

She did not answer. With her figure drawn up and her head flung back alittle, she retained her hard and impenetrable air. Nevertheless, hethought he noticed that the lines of her mouth showed not so muchcruelty as bitterness. Her eyes, her beautiful dark eyes, revealedmelancholy. And Lupin, without as yet understanding, received a vagueintuition of what was passing within her. He seized her hand. She pushedhim away, with a start of revolt in which he felt hatred, almostrepulsion. And, when he insisted, she cried:

"Let me be, will you?. .. Let me be!. .. Can't you see that I detest you?"

They looked at each other for a moment, Lupin disconcerted, shequivering and full of uneasiness, her pale face all flushed withunwonted colour. 

He said to her, gently:

"If you detested me, you should have let me die. .. . It was simpleenough. .. . Why didn't you?"

"Why?. .. Why?. .. How do I know?. .. "

Her face contracted. With a sudden movement, she hid it in her twohands; and he saw tears trickle between her fingers. 

Greatly touched, he thought of addressing her in fond words, such as onewould use to a little girl whom one wished to console, and of giving hergood advice and saving her, in his turn, and snatching her from the badlife which she was leading, perhaps against her better nature. 

But such words would have sounded ridiculous, coming from his lips, andhe did not know what to say, now that he understood the whole story andwas able to picture the young woman sitting beside his sick-bed, nursing the man whom she had wounded, admiring his pluck and gaiety, becoming attached to him, falling in love with him and thrice over, probably in spite of herself, under a sort of instinctive impulse, amidfits of spite and rage, saving him from death. 

And all this was so strange, so unforeseen; Lupin was so much unmannedby his astonishment, that, this time, he did not try to retain her whenshe made for the door, backward, without taking her eyes from him. 

She lowered her head, smiled for an instant and disappeared. 

He rang the bell, quickly:

"Follow that woman, " he said to his man. "Or no, stay where you are. .. . After all, it is better so. .. . "

He sat brooding for a while, possessed by the girl's image. Then herevolved in his mind all that curious, stirring and tragic adventure, inwhich he had been so very near succumbing; and, taking a hand-glass fromthe table, he gazed for a long time and with a certain self-complacencyat his features, which illness and pain had not succeeded in impairingto any great extent:

"Good looks count for something, after all!" he muttered. 

V

THE RED SILK SCARF

On leaving his house one morning, at his usual early hour for going tothe Law Courts, Chief-inspector Ganimard noticed the curious behaviourof an individual who was walking along the Rue Pergolèse in front ofhim. Shabbily dressed and wearing a straw hat, though the day was thefirst of December, the man stooped at every thirty or forty yards tofasten his boot-lace, or pick up his stick, or for some other reason. And, each time, he took a little piece of orange-peel from his pocketand laid it stealthily on the curb of the pavement. It was probably amere display of eccentricity, a childish amusement to which no one elsewould have paid attention; but Ganimard was one of those shrewdobservers who are indifferent to nothing that strikes their eyes and whoare never satisfied until they know the secret cause of things. Hetherefore began to follow the man. 

Now, at the moment when the fellow was turning to the right, into theAvenue de la Grande-Armée, the inspector caught him exchanging signalswith a boy of twelve or thirteen, who was walking along the houses onthe left-hand side. Twenty yards farther, the man stooped and turned upthe bottom of his trousers legs. A bit of orange-peel marked the place. At the same moment, the boy stopped and, with a piece of chalk, drew awhite cross, surrounded by a circle, on the wall of the house next tohim. 

The two continued on their way. A minute later, a fresh halt. Thestrange individual picked up a pin and dropped a piece of orange-peel;and the boy at once made a second cross on the wall and again drew awhite circle round it. 

"By Jove!" thought the chief-inspector, with a grunt of satisfaction. "This is rather promising. .. . What on earth can those two merchants beplotting?"

The two "merchants" went down the Avenue Friedland and the Rue duFaubourg-Saint-Honoré, but nothing occurred that was worthy of specialmention. The double performance was repeated at almost regular intervalsand, so to speak, mechanically. Nevertheless, it was obvious, on the onehand, that the man with the orange-peel did not do his part of thebusiness until after he had picked out with a glance the house that wasto be marked and, on the other hand, that the boy did not mark thatparticular house until after he had observed his companion's signal. Itwas certain, therefore, that there was an agreement between the two; andthe proceedings presented no small interest in the chief-inspector'seyes. 

At the Place Beauveau the man hesitated. Then, apparently making up hismind, he twice turned up and twice turned down the bottom of histrousers legs. Hereupon, the boy sat down on the curb, opposite thesentry who was mounting guard outside the Ministry of the Interior, andmarked the flagstone with two little crosses contained within twocircles. The same ceremony was gone through a little further on, whenthey reached the Elysée. Only, on the pavement where the President'ssentry was marching up and down, there were three signs instead of two. 

"Hang it all!" muttered Ganimard, pale with excitement and thinking, inspite of himself, of his inveterate enemy, Lupin, whose name came to hismind whenever a mysterious circumstance presented itself. "Hang it all, what does it mean?"

He was nearly collaring and questioning the two "merchants. " But he wastoo clever to commit so gross a blunder. The man with the orange-peelhad now lit a cigarette; and the boy, also placing a cigarette-endbetween his lips, had gone up to him, apparently with the object ofasking for a light. 

They exchanged a few words. Quick as thought, the boy handed hiscompanion an object which looked--at least, so the inspectorbelieved--like a revolver. They both bent over this object; and the man, standing with his face to the wall, put his hand six times in his pocketand made a movement as though he were loading a weapon. 

As soon as this was done, they walked briskly to the Rue de Surène; andthe inspector, who followed them as closely as he was able to do withoutattracting their attention, saw them enter the gateway of an old houseof which all the shutters were closed, with the exception of those onthe third or top floor. 

He hurried in after them. At the end of the carriage-entrance he saw alarge courtyard, with a house-painter's sign at the back and a staircaseon the left. 

He went up the stairs and, as soon as he reached the first floor, ranstill faster, because he heard, right up at the top, a din as of afree-fight. 

When he came to the last landing he found the door open. He entered, listened for a second, caught the sound of a struggle, rushed to theroom from which the sound appeared to proceed and remained standing onthe threshold, very much out of breath and greatly surprised to seethe man of the orange-peel and the boy banging the floor with chairs. 

At that moment a third person walked out of an adjoining room. It was ayoung man of twenty-eight or thirty, wearing a pair of short whiskers inaddition to his moustache, spectacles, and a smoking-jacket with anastrakhan collar and looking like a foreigner, a Russian. 

"Good morning, Ganimard, " he said. And turning to the two companions, "Thank you, my friends, and all my congratulations on the successfulresult. Here's the reward I promised you. "

He gave them a hundred-franc note, pushed them outside and shut bothdoors. 

"I am sorry, old chap, " he said to Ganimard. "I wanted to talk to you. .. Wanted to talk to you badly. "

He offered him his hand and, seeing that the inspector remainedflabbergasted and that his face was still distorted with anger, heexclaimed:

"Why, you don't seem to understand!. .. And yet it's clear enough. .. . Iwanted to see you particularly. .. . So what could I do?" And, pretendingto reply to an objection, "No, no, old chap, " he continued. "You'requite wrong. If I had written or telephoned, you would not have come. .. Or else you would have come with a regiment. Now I wanted to see youall alone; and I thought the best thing was to send those two decentfellows to meet you, with orders to scatter bits of orange-peel and drawcrosses and circles, in short, to mark out your road to this place. .. . Why, you look quite bewildered! What is it? Perhaps you don't recognizeme? Lupin. .. . Arsène Lupin. .. . Ransack your memory. .. . Doesn't the nameremind you of anything?"

"You dirty scoundrel!" Ganimard snarled between his teeth. 

Lupin seemed greatly distressed and, in an affectionate voice:

"Are you vexed? Yes, I can see it in your eyes. .. . The Dugrivalbusiness, I suppose? I ought to have waited for you to come and take mein charge?. .. There now, the thought never occurred to me! I promiseyou, next time. .. . "

"You scum of the earth!" growled Ganimard. 

"And I thinking I was giving you a treat! Upon my word, I did. I said tomyself, 'That dear old Ganimard! We haven't met for an age. He'll simplyrush at me when he sees me!'"

Ganimard, who had not yet stirred a limb, seemed to be waking from hisstupor. He looked around him, looked at Lupin, visibly asked himselfwhether he would not do well to rush at him in reality and then, controlling himself, took hold of a chair and settled himself in it, asthough he had suddenly made up his mind to listen to his enemy:

"Speak, " he said. "And don't waste my time with any nonsense. I'm in ahurry. "

"That's it, " said Lupin, "let's talk. You can't imagine a quieter placethan this. It's an old manor-house, which once stood in the opencountry, and it belongs to the Duc de Rochelaure. The duke, who hasnever lived in it, lets this floor to me and the outhouses to a painterand decorator. I always keep up a few establishments of this kind: it'sa sound, practical plan. Here, in spite of my looking like a Russiannobleman, I am M. Daubreuil, an ex-cabinet-minister. .. . You understand, I had to select a rather overstocked profession, so as not to attractattention. .. . "

"Do you think I care a hang about all this?" said Ganimard, interruptinghim. 

"Quite right, I'm wasting words and you're in a hurry. Forgive me. Isha'n't be long now. .. . Five minutes, that's all. .. . I'll start atonce. .. . Have a cigar? No? Very well, no more will I. "

He sat down also, drummed his fingers on the table, while thinking, andbegan in this fashion:

"On the 17th of October, 1599, on a warm and sunny autumn day . .. Doyou follow me?. .. But, now that I come to think of it, is it reallynecessary to go back to the reign of Henry IV, and tell you all aboutthe building of the Pont-Neuf? No, I don't suppose you are very well upin French history; and I should only end by muddling you. Suffice it, then, for you to know that, last night, at one o'clock in the morning, aboatman passing under the last arch of the Pont-Neuf aforesaid, alongthe left bank of the river, heard something drop into the front part ofhis barge. The thing had been flung from the bridge and its evidentdestination was the bottom of the Seine. The bargee's dog rushedforward, barking, and, when the man reached the end of his craft, he sawthe animal worrying a piece of newspaper that had served to wrap up anumber of objects. He took from the dog such of the contents as had notfallen into the water, went to his cabin and examined them carefully. The result struck him as interesting; and, as the man is connected withone of my friends, he sent to let me know. This morning I was waked upand placed in possession of the facts and of the objects which the manhad collected. Here they are. "

He pointed to them, spread out on a table. There were, first of all, thetorn pieces of a newspaper. Next came a large cut-glass inkstand, with along piece of string fastened to the lid. There was a bit of brokenglass and a sort of flexible cardboard, reduced to shreds. Lastly, therewas a piece of bright scarlet silk, ending in a tassel of the samematerial and colour. 

"You see our exhibits, friend of my youth, " said Lupin. "No doubt, theproblem would be more easily solved if we had the other objects whichwent overboard owing to the stupidity of the dog. But it seems to me, all the same, that we ought to be able to manage, with a littlereflection and intelligence. And those are just your great qualities. How does the business strike you?"

Ganimard did not move a muscle. He was willing to stand Lupin's chaff, but his dignity commanded him not to speak a single word in answer noreven to give a nod or shake of the head that might have been taken toexpress approval or or criticism. 

"I see that we are entirely of one mind, " continued Lupin, withoutappearing to remark the chief-inspector's silence. "And I can sum up thematter briefly, as told us by these exhibits. Yesterday evening, betweennine and twelve o'clock, a showily dressed young woman was wounded witha knife and then caught round the throat and choked to death by awell-dressed gentleman, wearing a single eyeglass and interested inracing, with whom the aforesaid showily dressed young lady had beeneating three meringues and a coffee éclair. "

Lupin lit a cigarette and, taking Ganimard by the sleeve:

"Aha, that's up against you, chief-inspector! You thought that, in thedomain of police deductions, such feats as those were prohibited tooutsiders! Wrong, sir! Lupin juggles with inferences and deductions forall the world like a detective in a novel. My proofs are dazzling andabsolutely simple. "

And, pointing to the objects one by one, as he demonstrated hisstatement, he resumed:

"I said, after nine o'clock yesterday evening. This scrap of newspaperbears yesterday's date, with the words, 'Evening edition. ' Also, youwill see here, pasted to the paper, a bit of one of those yellowwrappers in which the subscribers' copies are sent out. These copies arealways delivered by the nine o'clock post. Therefore, it was after nineo'clock. I said, a well-dressed man. Please observe that this tiny pieceof glass has the round hole of a single eyeglass at one of the edges andthat the single eyeglass is an essentially aristocratic article of wear. This well-dressed man walked into a pastry-cook's shop. Here is the verythin cardboard, shaped like a box, and still showing a little of thecream of the meringues and éclairs which were packed in it in the usualway. Having got his parcel, the gentleman with the eyeglass joined ayoung person whose eccentricity in the matter of dress is pretty clearlyindicated by this bright-red silk scarf. Having joined her, for somereason as yet unknown he first stabbed her with a knife and thenstrangled her with the help of this same scarf. Take your magnifyingglass, chief-inspector, and you will see, on the silk, stains of adarker red which are, here, the marks of a knife wiped on the scarf and, there, the marks of a hand, covered with blood, clutching the material. Having committed the murder, his next business is to leave no tracebehind him. So he takes from his pocket, first, the newspaper to whichhe subscribes--a racing-paper, as you will see by glancing at thecontents of this scrap; and you will have no difficulty in discoveringthe title--and, secondly, a cord, which, on inspection, turns out to bea length of whip-cord. These two details prove--do they not?--that ourman is interested in racing and that he himself rides. Next, he picks upthe fragments of his eyeglass, the cord of which has been broken in thestruggle. He takes a pair of scissors--observe the hacking of thescissors--and cuts off the stained part of the scarf, leaving the otherend, no doubt, in his victim's clenched hands. He makes a ball of theconfectioner's cardboard box. He also puts in certain things that wouldhave betrayed him, such as the knife, which must have slipped into theSeine. He wraps everything in the newspaper, ties it with the cord andfastens this cut-glass inkstand to it, as a make-weight. Then he makeshimself scarce. A little later, the parcel falls into the waterman'sbarge. And there you are. Oof, it's hot work!. .. What do you say to thestory?"

He looked at Ganimard to see what impression his speech had produced onthe inspector. Ganimard did not depart from his attitude of silence. 

Lupin began to laugh:

"As a matter of fact, you're annoyed and surprised. But you'resuspicious as well: 'Why should that confounded Lupin hand the businessover to me, ' say you, 'instead of keeping it for himself, hunting downthe murderer and rifling his pockets, if there was a robbery?' Thequestion is quite logical, of course. But--there is a 'but'--I have notime, you see. I am full up with work at the present moment: a burglaryin London, another at Lausanne, an exchange of children at Marseilles, to say nothing of having to save a young girl who is at this momentshadowed by death. That's always the way: it never rains but it pours. So I said to myself, 'Suppose I handed the business over to my dear oldGanimard? Now that it is half-solved for him, he is quite capable ofsucceeding. And what a service I shall be doing him! How magnificentlyhe will be able to distinguish himself!' No sooner said than done. Ateight o'clock in the morning, I sent the joker with the orange-peel tomeet you. You swallowed the bait; and you were here by nine, all on edgeand eager for the fray. "

Lupin rose from his chair. He went over to the inspector and, with hiseyes in Ganimard's, said:

"That's all. You now know the whole story. Presently, you will know thevictim: some ballet-dancer, probably, some singer at a music-hall. Onthe other hand, the chances are that the criminal lives near thePont-Neuf, most likely on the left bank. Lastly, here are all theexhibits. I make you a present of them. Set to work. I shall only keepthis end of the scarf. If ever you want to piece the scarf together, bring me the other end, the one which the police will find round thevictim's neck. Bring it me in four weeks from now to the day, that is tosay, on the 29th of December, at ten o'clock in the morning. You can besure of finding me here. And don't be afraid: this is all perfectlyserious, friend of my youth; I swear it is. No humbug, honour bright. You can go straight ahead. Oh, by the way, when you arrest the fellowwith the eyeglass, be a bit careful: he is left-handed! Good-bye, olddear, and good luck to you!"

Lupin spun round on his heel, went to the door, opened it anddisappeared before Ganimard had even thought of taking a decision. Theinspector rushed after him, but at once found that the handle of thedoor, by some trick of mechanism which he did not know, refused to turn. It took him ten minutes to unscrew the lock and ten minutes more tounscrew the lock of the hall-door. By the time that he had scrambleddown the three flights of stairs, Ganimard had given up all hope ofcatching Arsène Lupin. 

Besides, he was not thinking of it. Lupin inspired him with a queer, complex feeling, made up of fear, hatred, involuntary admiration andalso the vague instinct that he, Ganimard, in spite of all his efforts, in spite of the persistency of his endeavours, would never get thebetter of this particular adversary. He pursued him from a sense of dutyand pride, but with the continual dread of being taken in by thatformidable hoaxer and scouted and fooled in the face of a public thatwas always only too willing to laugh at the chief-inspector's mishaps. 

This business of the red scarf, in particular, struck him as mostsuspicious. It was interesting, certainly, in more ways than one, butso very improbable! And Lupin's explanation, apparently so logical, would never stand the test of a severe examination!

"No, " said Ganimard, "this is all swank: a parcel of suppositions andguesswork based upon nothing at all. I'm not to be caught with chaff. "

 * * * * *

When he reached the headquarters of police, at 36 Quai des Orfèvres, hehad quite made up his mind to treat the incident as though it had neverhappened. 

He went up to the Criminal Investigation Department. Here, one of hisfellow-inspectors said:

"Seen the chief?"

"No. "

"He was asking for you just now. "

"Oh, was he?"

"Yes, you had better go after him. "

"Where?"

"To the Rue de Berne . .. There was a murder there last night. "

"Oh! Who's the victim?"

"I don't know exactly . .. A music-hall singer, I believe. "

Ganimard simply muttered:

"By Jove!"

Twenty minutes later he stepped out of the underground railway-stationand made for the Rue de Berne. 

The victim, who was known in the theatrical world by her stage-name ofJenny Saphir, occupied a small flat on the second floor of one of thehouses. A policeman took the chief-inspector upstairs and showed him theway, through two sitting-rooms, to a bedroom, where he found themagistrates in charge of the inquiry, together with the divisionalsurgeon and M. Dudouis, the head of the detective-service. 

Ganimard started at the first glance which he gave into the room. Hesaw, lying on a sofa, the corpse of a young woman whose hands clutched astrip of red silk! One of the shoulders, which appeared above thelow-cut bodice, bore the marks of two wounds surrounded with clottedblood. The distorted and almost blackened features still bore anexpression of frenzied terror. 

The divisional surgeon, who had just finished his examination, said:

"My first conclusions are very clear. The victim was twice stabbed witha dagger and afterward strangled. The immediate cause of death wasasphyxia. "

"By Jove!" thought Ganimard again, remembering Lupin's words and thepicture which he had drawn of the crime. 

The examining-magistrate objected:

"But the neck shows no discoloration. "

"She may have been strangled with a napkin or a handkerchief, " said thedoctor. 

"Most probably, " said the chief detective, "with this silk scarf, whichthe victim was wearing and a piece of which remains, as though she hadclung to it with her two hands to protect herself. "

"But why does only that piece remain?" asked the magistrate. "What hasbecome of the other?"

"The other may have been stained with blood and carried off by themurderer. You can plainly distinguish the hurried slashing of thescissors. "

"By Jove!" said Ganimard, between his teeth, for the third time. "Thatbrute of a Lupin saw everything without seeing a thing!"

"And what about the motive of the murder?" asked the magistrate. "Thelocks have been forced, the cupboards turned upside down. Have youanything to tell me, M. Dudouis?"

The chief of the detective-service replied:

"I can at least suggest a supposition, derived from the statements madeby the servant. The victim, who enjoyed a greater reputation on accountof her looks than through her talent as a singer, went to Russia, twoyears ago, and brought back with her a magnificent sapphire, which sheappears to have received from some person of importance at the court. Since then, she went by the name of Jenny Saphir and seems generally tohave been very proud of that present, although, for prudence sake, shenever wore it. I daresay that we shall not be far out if we presume thetheft of the sapphire to have been the cause of the crime. "

"But did the maid know where the stone was?"

"No, nobody did. And the disorder of the room would tend to prove thatthe murderer did not know either. "

"We will question the maid, " said the examining-magistrate. 

M. Dudouis took the chief-inspector aside and said:

"You're looking very old-fashioned, Ganimard. What's the matter? Do yoususpect anything?"

"Nothing at all, chief. "

"That's a pity. We could do with a bit of showy work in the department. This is one of a number of crimes, all of the same class, of which wehave failed to discover the perpetrator. This time we want the criminal. .. And quickly!"

"A difficult job, chief. "

"It's got to be done. Listen to me, Ganimard. According to what the maidsays, Jenny Saphir led a very regular life. For a month past she was inthe habit of frequently receiving visits, on her return from themusic-hall, that is to say, at about half-past ten, from a man who wouldstay until midnight or so. 'He's a society man, ' Jenny Saphir used tosay, 'and he wants to marry me. ' This society man took every precautionto avoid being seen, such as turning up his coat-collar and lowering thebrim of his hat when he passed the porter's box. And Jenny Saphir alwaysmade a point of sending away her maid, even before he came. This is theman whom we have to find. "

"Has he left no traces?"

"None at all. It is obvious that we have to deal with a very cleverscoundrel, who prepared his crime beforehand and committed it with everypossible chance of escaping unpunished. His arrest would be a greatfeather in our cap. I rely on you, Ganimard. "

"Ah, you rely on me, chief?" replied the inspector. "Well, we shall see. .. We shall see. .. . I don't say no. .. . Only. .. . "

He seemed in a very nervous condition, and his agitation struck M. Dudouis. 

"Only, " continued Ganimard, "only I swear . .. Do you hear, chief? Iswear. .. . "

"What do you swear?"

"Nothing. .. . We shall see, chief . .. We shall see. .. . "

Ganimard did not finish his sentence until he was outside, alone. Andhe finished it aloud, stamping his foot, in a tone of the most violentanger:

"Only, I swear to Heaven that the arrest shall be effected by my ownmeans, without my employing a single one of the clues with which thatvillain has supplied me. Ah, no! Ah, no!. .. "

Railing against Lupin, furious at being mixed up in this business andresolved, nevertheless, to get to the bottom of it, he wanderedaimlessly about the streets. His brain was seething with irritation; andhe tried to adjust his ideas a little and to discover, among the chaoticfacts, some trifling detail, unperceived by all, unsuspected by Lupinhimself, that might lead him to success. 

He lunched hurriedly at a bar, resumed his stroll and suddenly stopped, petrified, astounded and confused. He was walking under the gateway ofthe very house in the Rue de Surène to which Lupin had enticed him a fewhours earlier! A force stronger than his own will was drawing him thereonce more. The solution of the problem lay there. There and there alonewere all the elements of the truth. Do and say what he would, Lupin'sassertions were so precise, his calculations so accurate, that, worriedto the innermost recesses of his being by so prodigious a display ofperspicacity, he could not do other than take up the work at the pointwhere his enemy had left it. 

Abandoning all further resistance, he climbed the three flights ofstairs. The door of the flat was open. No one had touched the exhibits. He put them in his pocket and walked away. 

From that moment, he reasoned and acted, so to speak, mechanically, under the influence of the master whom he could not choose but obey. 

Admitting that the unknown person whom he was seeking lived in theneighbourhood of the Pont-Neuf, it became necessary to discover, somewhere between that bridge and the Rue de Berne, the first-classconfectioner's shop, open in the evenings, at which the cakes werebought. This did not take long to find. A pastry-cook near the GareSaint-Lazare showed him some little cardboard boxes, identical inmaterial and shape with the one in Ganimard's possession. Moreover, oneof the shop-girls remembered having served, on the previous evening, agentleman whose face was almost concealed in the collar of his fur coat, but whose eyeglass she had happened to notice. 

"That's one clue checked, " thought the inspector. "Our man wears aneyeglass. "

He next collected the pieces of the racing-paper and showed them to anewsvendor, who easily recognized the _Turf Illustré_. Ganimard at oncewent to the offices of the _Turf_ and asked to see the list ofsubscribers. Going through the list, he jotted down the names andaddresses of all those who lived anywhere near the Pont-Neuf andprincipally--because Lupin had said so--those on the left bank of theriver. 

He then went back to the Criminal Investigation Department, took half adozen men and packed them off with the necessary instructions. 

At seven o'clock in the evening, the last of these men returned andbrought good news with him. A certain M. Prévailles, a subscriber to the_Turf_, occupied an entresol flat on the Quai des Augustins. On theprevious evening, he left his place, wearing a fur coat, took hisletters and his paper, the _Turf Illustré_, from the porter's wife, walked away and returned home at midnight. This M. Prévailles wore asingle eyeglass. He was a regular race-goer and himself owned severalhacks which he either rode himself or jobbed out. 

The inquiry had taken so short a time and the results obtained were soexactly in accordance with Lupin's predictions that Ganimard felt quiteovercome on hearing the detective's report. Once more he was measuringthe prodigious extent of the resources at Lupin's disposal. Never in thecourse of his life--and Ganimard was already well-advanced in years--hadhe come across such perspicacity, such a quick and far-seeing mind. 

He went in search of M. Dudouis. 

"Everything's ready, chief. Have you a warrant?"

"Eh?"

"I said, everything is ready for the arrest, chief. "

"You know the name of Jenny Saphir's murderer?"

"Yes. "

"But how? Explain yourself. "

Ganimard had a sort of scruple of conscience, blushed a little andnevertheless replied:

"An accident, chief. The murderer threw everything that was likely tocompromise him into the Seine. Part of the parcel was picked up andhanded to me. "

"By whom?"

"A boatman who refused to give his name, for fear of getting intotrouble. But I had all the clues I wanted. It was not so difficult as Iexpected. "

And the inspector described how he had gone to work. 

"And you call that an accident!" cried M. Dudouis. "And you say that itwas not difficult! Why, it's one of your finest performances! Finish ityourself, Ganimard, and be prudent. "

Ganimard was eager to get the business done. He went to the Quai desAugustins with his men and distributed them around the house. Hequestioned the portress, who said that her tenant took his meals out ofdoors, but made a point of looking in after dinner. 

A little before nine o'clock, in fact, leaning out of her window, shewarned Ganimard, who at once gave a low whistle. A gentleman in a tallhat and a fur coat was coming along the pavement beside the Seine. Hecrossed the road and walked up to the house. 

Ganimard stepped forward:

"M. Prévailles, I believe?"

"Yes, but who are you?"

"I have a commission to. .. . "

He had not time to finish his sentence. At the sight of the menappearing out of the shadow, Prévailles quickly retreated to the walland faced his adversaries, with his back to the door of a shop on theground-floor, the shutters of which were closed. 

"Stand back!" he cried. "I don't know you!"

His right hand brandished a heavy stick, while his left was slippedbehind him and seemed to be trying to open the door. 

Ganimard had an impression that the man might escape through this wayand through some secret outlet:

"None of this nonsense, " he said, moving closer to him. "You'recaught. .. . You had better come quietly. "

But, just as he was laying hold of Prévailles' stick, Ganimardremembered the warning which Lupin gave him: Prévailles was left-handed;and it was his revolver for which he was feeling behind his back. 

The inspector ducked his head. He had noticed the man's sudden movement. Two reports rang out. No one was hit. 

A second later, Prévailles received a blow under the chin from thebutt-end of a revolver, which brought him down where he stood. He wasentered at the Dépôt soon after nine o'clock. 

 * * * * *

Ganimard enjoyed a great reputation even at that time. But this capture, so quickly effected, by such very simple means, and at once made publicby the police, won him a sudden celebrity. Prévailles was forthwithsaddled with all the murders that had remained unpunished; and thenewspapers vied with one another in extolling Ganimard's prowess. 

The case was conducted briskly at the start. It was first of allascertained that Prévailles, whose real name was Thomas Derocq, hadalready been in trouble. Moreover, the search instituted in his rooms, while not supplying any fresh proofs, at least led to the discovery of aball of whip-cord similar to the cord used for doing up the parcel andalso to the discovery of daggers which would have produced a woundsimilar to the wounds on the victim. 

But, on the eighth day, everything was changed. Until then Prévailleshad refused to reply to the questions put to him; but now, assisted byhis counsel, he pleaded a circumstantial alibi and maintained that hewas at the Folies-Bergère on the night of the murder. 

As a matter of fact, the pockets of his dinner-jacket contained thecounterfoil of a stall-ticket and a programme of the performance, bothbearing the date of that evening. 

"An alibi prepared in advance, " objected the examining-magistrate. 

"Prove it, " said Prévailles. 

The prisoner was confronted with the witnesses for the prosecution. Theyoung lady from the confectioner's "thought she knew" the gentleman withthe eyeglass. The hall-porter in the Rue de Berne "thought he knew" thegentleman who used to come to see Jenny Saphir. But nobody dared to makea more definite statement. 

The examination, therefore, led to nothing of a precise character, provided no solid basis whereon to found a serious accusation. 

The judge sent for Ganimard and told him of his difficulty. 

"I can't possibly persist, at this rate. There is no evidence to supportthe charge. "

"But surely you are convinced in your own mind, monsieur le juged'instruction! Prévailles would never have resisted his arrest unless hewas guilty. "

"He says that he thought he was being assaulted. He also says that henever set eyes on Jenny Saphir; and, as a matter of fact, we can find noone to contradict his assertion. Then again, admitting that the sapphirehas been stolen, we have not been able to find it at his flat. "

"Nor anywhere else, " suggested Ganimard. 

"Quite true, but that is no evidence against him. I'll tell you what weshall want, M. Ganimard, and that very soon: the other end of this redscarf. "

"The other end?"

"Yes, for it is obvious that, if the murderer took it away with him, thereason was that the stuff is stained with the marks of the blood on hisfingers. "

Ganimard made no reply. For several days he had felt that thewhole business was tending to this conclusion. There was noother proof possible. Given the silk scarf--and in no othercircumstances--Prévailles' guilt was certain. Now Ganimard's positionrequired that Prévailles' guilt should be established. He wasresponsible for the arrest, it had cast a glamour around him, he hadbeen praised to the skies as the most formidable adversary of criminals;and he would look absolutely ridiculous if Prévailles were released. 

Unfortunately, the one and only indispensable proof was in Lupin'spocket. How was he to get hold of it?

Ganimard cast about, exhausted himself with fresh investigations, wentover the inquiry from start to finish, spent sleepless nights in turningover the mystery of the Rue de Berne, studied the records of Prévailles'life, sent ten men hunting after the invisible sapphire. Everything wasuseless. 

On the 28th of December, the examining-magistrate stopped him in one ofthe passages of the Law Courts:

"Well, M. Ganimard, any news?"

"No, monsieur le juge d'instruction. "

"Then I shall dismiss the case. "

"Wait one day longer. "

"What's the use? We want the other end of the scarf; have you got it?"

"I shall have it to-morrow. "

"To-morrow!"

"Yes, but please lend me the piece in your possession. "

"What if I do?"

"If you do, I promise to let you have the whole scarf complete. "

"Very well, that's understood. "

Ganimard followed the examining-magistrate to his room and came out withthe piece of silk:

"Hang it all!" he growled. "Yes, I will go and fetch the proof and Ishall have it too . .. Always presuming that Master Lupin has the courageto keep the appointment. "

In point of fact, he did not doubt for a moment that Master Lupin wouldhave this courage, and that was just what exasperated him. Why had Lupininsisted on this meeting? What was his object, in the circumstances?

Anxious, furious and full of hatred, he resolved to take everyprecaution necessary not only to prevent his falling into a traphimself, but to make his enemy fall into one, now that the opportunityoffered. And, on the next day, which was the 29th of December, the datefixed by Lupin, after spending the night in studying the old manor-housein the Rue de Surène and convincing himself that there was no otheroutlet than the front door, he warned his men that he was going on adangerous expedition and arrived with them on the field of battle. 

He posted them in a café and gave them formal instructions: if he showedhimself at one of the third-floor windows, or if he failed to returnwithin an hour, the detectives were to enter the house and arrest anyone who tried to leave it. 

The chief-inspector made sure that his revolver was in working order andthat he could take it from his pocket easily. Then he went upstairs. 

He was surprised to find things as he had left them, the doors open andthe locks broken. After ascertaining that the windows of the principalroom looked out on the street, he visited the three other rooms thatmade up the flat. There was no one there. 

"Master Lupin was afraid, " he muttered, not without a certainsatisfaction. 

"Don't be silly, " said a voice behind him. 

Turning round, he saw an old workman, wearing a house-painter's longsmock, standing in the doorway. 

"You needn't bother your head, " said the man. "It's I, Lupin. I havebeen working in the painter's shop since early morning. This is when weknock off for breakfast. So I came upstairs. "

He looked at Ganimard with a quizzing smile and cried:

"'Pon my word, this is a gorgeous moment I owe you, old chap! I wouldn'tsell it for ten years of your life; and yet you know how I love you!What do you think of it, artist? Wasn't it well thought out and wellforeseen? Foreseen from alpha to omega? Did I understand the business?Did I penetrate the mystery of the scarf? I'm not saying that there wereno holes in my argument, no links missing in the chain. .. . But what amasterpiece of intelligence! Ganimard, what a reconstruction of events!What an intuition of everything that had taken place and of everythingthat was going to take place, from the discovery of the crime to yourarrival here in search of a proof! What really marvellous divination!Have you the scarf?"

"Yes, half of it. Have you the other?"

"Here it is. Let's compare. "

They spread the two pieces of silk on the table. The cuts made by thescissors corresponded exactly. Moreover, the colours were identical. 

"But I presume, " said Lupin, "that this was not the only thing you camefor. What you are interested in seeing is the marks of the blood. Comewith me, Ganimard: it's rather dark in here. "

They moved into the next room, which, though it overlooked thecourtyard, was lighter; and Lupin held his piece of silk against thewindow-pane:

"Look, " he said, making room for Ganimard. 

The inspector gave a start of delight. The marks of the five fingers andthe print of the palm were distinctly visible. The evidence wasundeniable. The murderer had seized the stuff in his bloodstained hand, in the same hand that had stabbed Jenny Saphir, and tied the scarf roundher neck. 

"And it is the print of a left hand, " observed Lupin. "Hence my warning, which had nothing miraculous about it, you see. For, though I admit, friend of my youth, that you may look upon me as a superiorintelligence, I won't have you treat me as a wizard. "

Ganimard had quickly pocketed the piece of silk. Lupin nodded his headin approval:

"Quite right, old boy, it's for you. I'm so glad you're glad! And, yousee, there was no trap about all this . .. Only the wish to oblige . .. Aservice between friends, between pals. .. . And also, I confess, a littlecuriosity. .. . Yes, I wanted to examine this other piece of silk, the onethe police had. .. . Don't be afraid: I'll give it back to you. .. . Just asecond. .. . "

Lupin, with a careless movement, played with the tassel at the end ofthis half of the scarf, while Ganimard listened to him in spite ofhimself:

"How ingenious these little bits of women's work are! Did you notice onedetail in the maid's evidence? Jenny Saphir was very handy with herneedle and used to make all her own hats and frocks. It is obvious thatshe made this scarf herself. .. . Besides, I noticed that from the first. I am naturally curious, as I have already told you, and I made athorough examination of the piece of silk which you have just put inyour pocket. Inside the tassel, I found a little sacred medal, which thepoor girl had stitched into it to bring her luck. Touching, isn't it, Ganimard? A little medal of Our Lady of Good Succour. "

The inspector felt greatly puzzled and did not take his eyes off theother. And Lupin continued:

"Then I said to myself, 'How interesting it would be to explore theother half of the scarf, the one which the police will find round thevictim's neck!' For this other half, which I hold in my hands at last, is finished off in the same way . .. So I shall be able to see if it hasa hiding-place too and what's inside it. .. . But look, my friend, isn'tit cleverly made? And so simple! All you have to do is to take a skeinof red cord and braid it round a wooden cup, leaving a little recess, alittle empty space in the middle, very small, of course, but largeenough to hold a medal of a saint . .. Or anything. .. . A precious stone, for instance. .. . Such as a sapphire. .. . "

At that moment he finished pushing back the silk cord and, from thehollow of a cup he took between his thumb and forefinger a wonderfulblue stone, perfect in respect of size and purity. 

"Ha! What did I tell you, friend of my youth?"

He raised his head. The inspector had turned livid and was staringwild-eyed, as though fascinated by the stone that sparkled before him. He at last realized the whole plot:

"You dirty scoundrel!" he muttered, repeating the insults which he hadused at the first interview. "You scum of the earth!"

The two men were standing one against the other. 

"Give me back that, " said the inspector. 

Lupin held out the piece of silk. 

"And the sapphire, " said Ganimard, in a peremptory tone. 

"Don't be silly. "

"Give it back, or. .. . "

"Or what, you idiot!" cried Lupin. "Look here, do you think I put you onto this soft thing for nothing?"

"Give it back!"

"You haven't noticed what I've been about, that's plain! What! For fourweeks I've kept you on the move like a deer; and you want to . .. ! Come, Ganimard, old chap, pull yourself together!. .. Don't you see that you'vebeen playing the good dog for four weeks on end?. .. Fetch it, Rover!. .. There's a nice blue pebble over there, which master can't get at. Huntit, Ganimard, fetch it . .. Bring it to master. .. . Ah, he's his master'sown good little dog!. .. Sit up! Beg!. .. Does'ms want a bit of sugar, then?. .. "

Ganimard, containing the anger that seethed within him, thought only ofone thing, summoning his detectives. And, as the room in which he nowwas looked out on the courtyard, he tried gradually to work his wayround to the communicating door. He would then run to the window andbreak one of the panes. 

"All the same, " continued Lupin, "what a pack of dunderheads you and therest must be! You've had the silk all this time and not one of you everthought of feeling it, not one of you ever asked himself the reason whythe poor girl hung on to her scarf. Not one of you! You just acted athaphazard, without reflecting, without foreseeing anything. .. . "

The inspector had attained his object. Taking advantage of a second whenLupin had turned away from him, he suddenly wheeled round and graspedthe door-handle. But an oath escaped him: the handle did not budge. 

Lupin burst into a fit of laughing:

"Not even that! You did not even foresee that! You lay a trap for me andyou won't admit that I may perhaps smell the thing out beforehand. .. . And you allow yourself to be brought into this room without askingwhether I am not bringing you here for a particular reason and withoutremembering that the locks are fitted with a special mechanism. Comenow, speaking frankly, what do you think of it yourself?"

"What do I think of it?" roared Ganimard, beside himself with rage. 

He had drawn his revolver and was pointing it straight at Lupin's face. 

"Hands up!" he cried. "That's what I think of it!"

Lupin placed himself in front of him and shrugged his shoulders:

"Sold again!" he said. 

"Hands up, I say, once more!"

"And sold again, say I. Your deadly weapon won't go off. "

"What?"

"Old Catherine, your housekeeper, is in my service. She damped thecharges this morning while you were having your breakfast coffee. "

Ganimard made a furious gesture, pocketed the revolver and rushed atLupin. 

"Well?" said Lupin, stopping him short with a well-aimed kick on theshin. 

Their clothes were almost touching. They exchanged defiant glances, theglances of two adversaries who mean to come to blows. Nevertheless, there was no fight. The recollection of the earlier struggles made anypresent struggle useless. And Ganimard, who remembered all his pastfailures, his vain attacks, Lupin's crushing reprisals, did not lift alimb. There was nothing to be done. He felt it. Lupin had forces at hiscommand against which any individual force simply broke to pieces. Sowhat was the good?

"I agree, " said Lupin, in a friendly voice, as though answeringGanimard's unspoken thought, "you would do better to let things be asthey are. Besides, friend of my youth, think of all that this incidenthas brought you: fame, the certainty of quick promotion and, thanks tothat, the prospect of a happy and comfortable old age! Surely, you don'twant the discovery of the sapphire and the head of poor Arsène Lupin inaddition! It wouldn't be fair. To say nothing of the fact that poorArsène Lupin saved your life. .. . Yes, sir! Who warned you, at this veryspot, that Prévailles was left-handed?. .. And is this the way you thankme? It's not pretty of you, Ganimard. Upon my word, you make me blushfor you!"

While chattering, Lupin had gone through the same performance asGanimard and was now near the door. Ganimard saw that his foe was aboutto escape him. Forgetting all prudence, he tried to block his way andreceived a tremendous butt in the stomach, which sent him rolling tothe opposite wall. 

Lupin dexterously touched a spring, turned the handle, opened the doorand slipped away, roaring with laughter as he went. 

 * * * * *

Twenty minutes later, when Ganimard at last succeeded in joining hismen, one of them said to him:

"A house-painter left the house, as his mates were coming back frombreakfast, and put a letter in my hand. 'Give that to your governor, ' hesaid. 'Which governor?' I asked; but he was gone. I suppose it's meantfor you. "

"Let's have it. "

Ganimard opened the letter. It was hurriedly scribbled in pencil andcontained these words:

 "This is to warn you, friend of my youth, against excessive credulity. When a fellow tells you that the cartridges in your revolver are damp, however great your confidence in that fellow may be, even though his name be Arsène Lupin, never allow yourself to be taken in. Fire first; and, if the fellow hops the twig, you will have acquired the proof (1) that the cartridges are not damp; and (2) that old Catherine is the most honest and respectable of housekeepers. 

 "One of these days, I hope to have the pleasure of making her acquaintance. 

 "Meanwhile, friend of my youth, believe me always affectionately and sincerely yours, "ARSÈNE LUPIN. "

VI

SHADOWED BY DEATH

After he had been round the walls of the property, Arsène Lupin returnedto the spot from which he started. It was perfectly clear to him thatthere was no breach in the walls; and the only way of entering theextensive grounds of the Château de Maupertuis was through a little lowdoor, firmly bolted on the inside, or through the principal gate, whichwas overlooked by the lodge. 

"Very well, " he said. "We must employ heroic methods. "

Pushing his way into the copsewood where he had hidden hismotor-bicycle, he unwound a length of twine from under the saddle andwent to a place which he had noticed in the course of his exploration. At this place, which was situated far from the road, on the edge of awood, a number of large trees, standing inside the park, overlapped thewall. 

Lupin fastened a stone to the end of the string, threw it up and caughta thick branch, which he drew down to him and bestraddled. The branch, in recovering its position, raised him from the ground. He climbed overthe wall, slipped down the tree, and sprang lightly on the grass. 

It was winter; and, through the leafless boughs, across the undulatinglawns, he could see the little Château de Maupertuis in the distance. Fearing lest he should be perceived, he concealed himself behind a clumpof fir-trees. From there, with the aid of a field-glass, he studied thedark and melancholy front of the manor-house. All the windows wereclosed and, as it were, barricaded with solid shutters. The house mighteasily have been uninhabited. 

"By Jove!" muttered Lupin. "It's not the liveliest of residences. Ishall certainly not come here to end my days!"

But the clock struck three; one of the doors on the ground-floor opened;and the figure of a woman appeared, a very slender figure wrapped in abrown cloak. 

The woman walked up and down for a few minutes and was at oncesurrounded by birds, to which she scattered crumbs of bread. Then shewent down the stone steps that led to the middle lawn and skirted it, taking the path on the right. 

With his field-glass, Lupin could distinctly see her coming in hisdirection. She was tall, fair-haired, graceful in appearance, andseemed to be quite a young girl. She walked with a sprightly step, looking at the pale December sun and amusing herself by breaking thelittle dead twigs on the shrubs along the road. 

She had gone nearly two thirds of the distance that separated her fromLupin when there came a furious sound of barking and a huge dog, acolossal Danish boarhound, sprang from a neighbouring kennel and stooderect at the end of the chain by which it was fastened. 

The girl moved a little to one side, without paying further attention towhat was doubtless a daily incident. The dog grew angrier than ever, standing on its legs and dragging at its collar, at the risk ofstrangling itself. 

Thirty or forty steps farther, yielding probably to an impulse ofimpatience, the girl turned round and made a gesture with her hand. Thegreat Dane gave a start of rage, retreated to the back of its kennel andrushed out again, this time unfettered. The girl uttered a cry of madterror. The dog was covering the space between them, trailing its brokenchain behind it. 

She began to run, to run with all her might, and screamed outdesperately for help. But the dog came up with her in a few bounds. 

She fell, at once exhausted, giving herself up for lost. The animal wasalready upon her, almost touching her. 

At that exact moment a shot rang out. The dog turned a completesomersault, recovered its feet, tore the ground and then lay down, giving a number of hoarse, breathless howls, which ended in a dull moanand an indistinct gurgling. And that was all. 

"Dead, " said Lupin, who had hastened up at once, prepared, if necessary, to fire his revolver a second time. 

The girl had risen and stood pale, still staggering. She looked in greatsurprise at this man whom she did not know and who had saved her life;and she whispered:

"Thank you. .. . I have had a great fright. .. . You were in the nick oftime. .. . I thank you, monsieur. "

Lupin took off his hat:

"Allow me to introduce myself, mademoiselle. .. . My name is PaulDaubreuil. .. . But before entering into any explanations, I must ask forone moment. .. . "

He stooped over the dog's dead body and examined the chain at the partwhere the brute's effort had snapped it:

"That's it, " he said, between his teeth. "It's just as I suspected. ByJupiter, things are moving rapidly!. .. I ought to have come earlier. "

Returning to the girl's side, he said to her, speaking very quickly:

"Mademoiselle, we have not a minute to lose. My presence in thesegrounds is quite irregular. I do not wish to be surprised here; and thisfor reasons that concern yourself alone. Do you think that the reportcan have been heard at the house?"

The girl seemed already to have recovered from her emotion; and shereplied, with a calmness that revealed all her pluck:

"I don't think so. "

"Is your father in the house to-day?"

"My father is ill and has been in bed for months. Besides, his roomlooks out on the other front. "

"And the servants?"

"Their quarters and the kitchen are also on the other side. No one evercomes to this part. I walk here myself, but nobody else does. "

"It is probable, therefore, that I have not been seen either, especiallyas the trees hide us?"

"It is most probable. "

"Then I can speak to you freely?"

"Certainly, but I don't understand. .. . "

"You will, presently. Permit me to be brief. The point is this: fourdays ago, Mlle. Jeanne Darcieux. .. . "

"That is my name, " she said, smiling. 

"Mlle. Jeanne Darcieux, " continued Lupin, "wrote a letter to one of herfriends, called Marceline, who lives at Versailles. .. . "

"How do you know all that?" asked the girl, in astonishment. "I tore upthe letter before I had finished it. "

"And you flung the pieces on the edge of the road that runs from thehouse to Vendôme. "

"That's true. .. . I had gone out walking. .. . "

"The pieces were picked up and they came into my hands next day. "

"Then . .. You must have read them, " said Jeanne Darcieux, betraying acertain annoyance by her manner. 

"Yes, I committed that indiscretion; and I do not regret it, because Ican save you. "

"Save me? From what?"

"From death. "

Lupin spoke this little sentence in a very distinct voice. The girl gavea shudder. Then she said:

"I am not threatened with death. "

"Yes, you are, mademoiselle. At the end of October, you were reading ona bench on the terrace where you were accustomed to sit at the same hourevery day, when a block of stone fell from the cornice above your headand you were within a few inches of being crushed. "

"An accident. .. . "

"One fine evening in November, you were walking in the kitchen-garden, by moonlight. A shot was fired, The bullet whizzed past your ear. "

"At least, I thought so. "

"Lastly, less than a week ago, the little wooden bridge that crosses theriver in the park, two yards from the waterfall, gave way while you wereon it. You were just able, by a miracle, to catch hold of the root of atree. "

Jeanne Darcieux tried to smile. 

"Very well. But, as I wrote to Marceline, these are only a series ofcoincidences, of accidents. .. . "

"No, mademoiselle, no. One accident of this sort is allowable. .. . So aretwo . .. And even then!. .. But we have no right to suppose that thechapter of accidents, repeating the same act three times in suchdifferent and extraordinary circumstances, is a mere amusingcoincidence. That is why I thought that I might presume to come to yourassistance. And, as my intervention can be of no use unless it remainssecret, I did not hesitate to make my way in here . .. Without walkingthrough the gate. I came in the nick of time, as you said. Your enemywas attacking you once more. "

"What!. .. Do you think?. .. No, it is impossible. .. . I refuse tobelieve. .. . "

Lupin picked up the chain and, showing it to her:

"Look at the last link. There is no question but that it has been filed. Otherwise, so powerful a chain as this would never have yielded. Besides, you can see the mark of the file here. "

Jeanne turned pale and her pretty features were distorted with terror:

"But who can bear me such a grudge?" she gasped. "It is terrible. .. . Ihave never done any one harm. .. . And yet you are certainly right. .. . Worse still. .. . "

She finished her sentence in a lower voice:

"Worse still, I am wondering whether the same danger does not threatenmy father. "

"Has he been attacked also?"

"No, for he never stirs from his room. But his is such a mysteriousillness!. .. He has no strength . .. He cannot walk at all. .. . In additionto that, he is subject to fits of suffocation, as though his heartstopped beating. .. . Oh, what an awful thing!"

Lupin realized all the authority which he was able to assert at such amoment, and he said:

"Have no fear, mademoiselle. If you obey me blindly, I shall be sure tosucceed. "

"Yes . .. Yes . .. I am quite willing . .. But all this is so terrible. .. . "

"Trust me, I beg of you. And please listen to me, I shall want a fewparticulars. "

He rapped out a number of questions, which Jeanne Darcieux answeredhurriedly:

"That animal was never let loose, was he?"

"Never. "

"Who used to feed him?"

"The lodge-keeper. He brought him his food every evening. "

"Consequently, he could go near him without being bitten?"

"Yes; and he only, for the dog was very savage. "

"You don't suspect the man?"

"Oh, no!. .. Baptiste?. .. Never!"

"And you can't think of anybody?"

"No. Our servants are quite devoted to us. They are very fond of me. "

"You have no friends staying in the house?"

"No. "

"No brother?"

"No. "

"Then your father is your only protector?"

"Yes; and I have told you the condition he is in. "

"Have you told him of the different attempts?"

"Yes; and it was wrong of me to do so. Our doctor, old Dr. Guéroult, forbade me to cause him the least excitement. "

"Your mother?. .. "

"I don't remember her. She died sixteen years ago . .. Just sixteen yearsago. "

"How old were you then?"

"I was not quite five years old. "

"And were you living here?"

"We were living in Paris. My father only bought this place the yearafter. "

Lupin was silent for a few moments. Then he concluded:

"Very well, mademoiselle, I am obliged to you. Those particulars are allI need for the present. Besides, it would not be wise for us to remaintogether longer. "

"But, " she said, "the lodge-keeper will find the dog soon. .. . Who willhave killed him?"

"You, mademoiselle, to defend yourself against an attack. "

"I never carry firearms. "

"I am afraid you do, " said Lupin, smiling, "because you killed the dogand there is no one but you who could have killed him. For that matter, let them think what they please. The great thing is that I shall not besuspected when I come to the house. "

"To the house? Do you intend to?"

"Yes. I don't yet know how . .. But I shall come. .. . This veryevening. .. . So, once more, be easy in your mind. I will answer foreverything. "

Jeanne looked at him and, dominated by him, conquered by his air ofassurance and good faith, she said, simply:

"I am quite easy. "

"Then all will go well. Till this evening, mademoiselle. "

"Till this evening. "

She walked away; and Lupin, following her with his eyes until the momentwhen she disappeared round the corner of the house, murmured:

"What a pretty creature! It would be a pity if any harm were to come toher. Luckily, Arsène Lupin is keeping his weather-eye open. "

Taking care not to be seen, with eyes and ears attentive to the leastsight or sound, he inspected every nook and corner of the grounds, looked for the little low door which he had noticed outside and whichwas the door of the kitchen garden, drew the bolt, took the key and thenskirted the walls and found himself once more near the tree which he hadclimbed. Two minutes later, he was mounting his motor-cycle. 

 * * * * *

The village of Maupertuis lay quite close to the estate. Lupin inquiredand learnt that Dr. Guéroult lived next door to the church. 

He rang, was shown into the consulting-room and introduced himself byhis name of Paul Daubreuil, of the Rue de Surène, Paris, adding that hehad official relations with the detective-service, a fact which herequested might be kept secret. He had become acquainted, by means of atorn letter, with the incidents that had endangered Mlle. Darcieux'slife; and he had come to that young lady's assistance. 

Dr. Guéroult, an old country practitioner, who idolized Jeanne, onhearing Lupin's explanations at once admitted that those incidentsconstituted undeniable proofs of a plot. He showed great concern, offered his visitor hospitality and kept him to dinner. 

The two men talked at length. In the evening, they walked round to themanor-house together. 

The doctor went to the sick man's room, which was on the first floor, and asked leave to bring up a young colleague, to whom he intended soonto make over his practice, when he retired. 

Lupin, on entering, saw Jeanne Darcieux seated by her father's bedside. She suppressed a movement of surprise and, at a sign from the doctor, left the room. 

The consultation thereupon took place in Lupin's presence. M. Darcieux'sface was worn, with much suffering and his eyes were bright with fever. He complained particularly, that day, of his heart. After theauscultation, he questioned the doctor with obvious anxiety; and eachreply seemed to give him relief. He also spoke of Jeanne and expressedhis conviction that they were deceiving him and that his daughter hadescaped yet more accidents. He continued perturbed, in spite of thedoctor's denials. He wanted to have the police informed and inquiriesset on foot. 

But his excitement tired him and he gradually dropped off to sleep. 

Lupin stopped the doctor in the passage:

"Come, doctor, give me your exact opinion. Do you think that M. Darcieux's illness can be attributed to an outside cause?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, suppose that the same enemy should be interested in removing bothfather and daughter. "

The doctor seemed struck by the suggestion. 

"Upon my word, there is something in what you say. .. . The father'sillness at times adopts such a very unusual character!. .. For instance, the paralysis of the legs, which is almost complete, ought to beaccompanied by. .. . "

The doctor reflected for a moment and then said in a low voice:

"You think it's poison, of course . .. But what poison?. .. Besides, I seeno toxic symptoms. .. . It would have to be. .. . But what are you doing?What's the matter?. .. "

The two men were talking outside a little sitting-room on the firstfloor, where Jeanne, seizing the opportunity while the doctor was withher father, had begun her evening meal. Lupin, who was watching herthrough the open door, saw her lift a cup to her lips and take a fewsups. 

Suddenly, he rushed at her and caught her by the arm:

"What are you drinking there?"

"Why, " she said, taken aback, "only tea!"

"You pulled a face of disgust . .. What made you do that?"

"I don't know . .. I thought. .. . "

"You thought what?"

"That . .. That it tasted rather bitter. .. . But I expect that comes fromthe medicine I mixed with it. "

"What medicine?"

"Some drops which I take at dinner . .. The drops which you prescribedfor me, you know, doctor. "

"Yes, " said Dr. Guéroult, "but that medicine has no taste of anykind. .. . You know it hasn't, Jeanne, for you have been taking it for afortnight and this is the first time. .. . "

"Quite right, " said the girl, "and this does have a taste. .. . There--oh!--my mouth is still burning. "

Dr. Guéroult now took a sip from the cup;

"Faugh!" he exclaimed, spitting it out again. "There's no mistake aboutit. .. . "

Lupin, on his side, was examining the bottle containing the medicine;and he asked:

"Where is this bottle kept in the daytime?"

But Jeanne was unable to answer. She had put her hand to her heart and, wan-faced, with staring eyes, seemed to be suffering great pain:

"It hurts . .. It hurts, " she stammered. 

The two men quickly carried her to her room and laid her on the bed:

"She ought to have an emetic, " said Lupin. 

"Open the cupboard, " said the doctor. "You'll see a medicine-case. .. . Have you got it?. .. Take out one of those little tubes. .. . Yes, thatone. .. . And now some hot water. .. . You'll find some on the tea-tray inthe other room. "

Jeanne's own maid came running up in answer to the bell. Lupin told herthat Mlle. Darcieux had been taken unwell, for some unknown reason. 

He next returned to the little dining-room, inspected the sideboard andthe cupboards, went down to the kitchen and pretended that the doctorhad sent him to ask about M. Darcieux's diet. Without appearing to doso, he catechized the cook, the butler, and Baptiste, the lodge-keeper, who had his meals at the manor-house with the servants. Then he wentback to the doctor:

"Well?"

"She's asleep. "

"Any danger?"

"No. Fortunately, she had only taken two or three sips. But this is thesecond time to-day that you have saved her life, as the analysis of thisbottle will show. "

"Quite superfluous to make an analysis, doctor. There is no doubt aboutthe fact that there has been an attempt at poisoning. "

"By whom?"

"I can't say. But the demon who is engineering all this business clearlyknows the ways of the house. He comes and goes as he pleases, walksabout in the park, files the dog's chain, mixes poison with the foodand, in short, moves and acts precisely as though he were living thevery life of her--or rather of those--whom he wants to put away. "

"Ah! You really believe that M. Darcieux is threatened with the samedanger?"

"I have not a doubt of it. "

"Then it must be one of the servants? But that is most unlikely! Do youthink . .. ?"

"I think nothing, doctor. I know nothing. All I can say is that thesituation is most tragic and that we must be prepared for the worst. Death is here, doctor, shadowing the people in this house; and it willsoon strike at those whom it is pursuing. "

"What's to be done?"

"Watch, doctor. Let us pretend that we are alarmed about M. Darcieux'shealth and spend the night in here. The bedrooms of both the father anddaughter are close by. If anything happens, we are sure to hear. "

There was an easy-chair in the room. They arranged to sleep in it turnand turn about. 

In reality, Lupin slept for only two or three hours. In the middle ofthe night he left the room, without disturbing his companion, carefullylooked round the whole of the house and walked out through the principalgate. 

 * * * * *

He reached Paris on his motor-cycle at nine o'clock in the morning. Twoof his friends, to whom he telephoned on the road, met him there. Theyall three spent the day in making searches which Lupin had planned outbeforehand. 

He set out again hurriedly at six o'clock; and never, perhaps, as hetold me subsequently, did he risk his life with greater temerity than inhis breakneck ride, at a mad rate of speed, on a foggy December evening, with the light of his lamp hardly able to pierce through the darkness. 

He sprang from his bicycle outside the gate, which was still open, ranto the house and reached the first floor in a few bounds. 

There was no one in the little dining-room. 

Without hesitating, without knocking, he walked into Jeanne's bedroom:

"Ah, here you are!" he said, with a sigh of relief, seeing Jeanne andthe doctor sitting side by side, talking. 

"What? Any news?" asked the doctor, alarmed at seeing such a state ofagitation in a man whose coolness he had had occasion to observe. 

"No, " said Lupin. "No news. And here?"

"None here, either. We have just left M. Darcieux. He has had anexcellent day and he ate his dinner with a good appetite. As for Jeanne, you can see for yourself, she has all her pretty colour back again. "

"Then she must go. "

"Go? But it's out of the question!" protested the girl. 

"You must go, you must!" cried Lupin, with real violence, stamping hisfoot on the floor. 

He at once mastered himself, spoke a few words of apology and then, forthree or four minutes, preserved a complete silence, which the doctorand Jeanne were careful not to disturb. 

At last, he said to the young girl:

"You shall go to-morrow morning, mademoiselle. It will be only for oneor two weeks. I will take you to your friend at Versailles, the one towhom you were writing. I entreat you to get everything ready to-night. .. Without concealment of any kind. Let the servants know that you aregoing. .. . On the other hand, the doctor will be good enough to tell M. Darcieux and give him to understand, with every possible precaution, that this journey is essential to your safety. Besides, he can join youas soon as his strength permits. .. . That's settled, is it not?"

"Yes, " she said, absolutely dominated by Lupin's gentle and imperiousvoice. 

"In that case, " he said, "be as quick as you can . .. And do not stirfrom your room. .. . "

"But, " said the girl, with a shudder, "am I to stay alone to-night?"

"Fear nothing. Should there be the least danger, the doctor and I willcome back. Do not open your door unless you hear three very light taps. "

Jeanne at once rang for her maid. The doctor went to M. Darcieux, whileLupin had some supper brought to him in the little dining-room. 

"That's done, " said the doctor, returning to him in twenty minutes'time. "M. Darcieux did not raise any great difficulty. As a matter offact, he himself thinks it just as well that we should send Jeanneaway. "

They then went downstairs together and left the house. 

On reaching the lodge, Lupin called the keeper. 

"You can shut the gate, my man. If M. Darcieux should want us, send forus at once. "

The clock of Maupertuis church struck ten. The sky was overcast withblack clouds, through which the moon broke at moments. 

The two men walked on for sixty or seventy yards. 

They were nearing the village, when Lupin gripped his companion by thearm:

"Stop!"

"What on earth's the matter?" exclaimed the doctor. 

"The matter is this, " Lupin jerked out, "that, if my calculations turnout right, if I have not misjudged the business from start to finish, Mlle. Darcieux will be murdered before the night is out. "

"Eh? What's that?" gasped the doctor, in dismay. "But then why did wego?"

"With the precise object that the miscreant, who is watching all ourmovements in the dark, may not postpone his crime and may perpetrate it, not at the hour chosen by himself, but at the hour which I have decidedupon. "

"Then we are returning to the manor-house?"

"Yes, of course we are, but separately. "

"In that case, let us go at once. "

"Listen to me, doctor, " said Lupin, in a steady voice, "and let uswaste no time in useless words. Above all, we must defeat any attempt towatch us. You will therefore go straight home and not come out againuntil you are quite certain that you have not been followed. You willthen make for the walls of the property, keeping to the left, till youcome to the little door of the kitchen-garden. Here is the key. When thechurch clock strikes eleven, open the door very gently and walk right upto the terrace at the back of the house. The fifth window is badlyfastened. You have only to climb over the balcony. As soon as you areinside Mlle. Darcieux's room, bolt the door and don't budge. You quiteunderstand, don't budge, either of you, whatever happens. I have noticedthat Mlle. Darcieux leaves her dressing-room window ajar, isn't thatso?"

"Yes, it's a habit which I taught her. "

"That's the way they'll come. "

"And you?"

"That's the way I shall come also. "

"And do you know who the villain is?"

Lupin hesitated and then replied:

"No, I don't know. .. . And that is just how we shall find out. But, Iimplore you, keep cool. Not a word, not a movement, _whatever happens_!"

"I promise you. "

"I want more than that, doctor. You must give me your word of honour. "

"I give you my word of honour. "

The doctor went away. Lupin at once climbed a neighbouring mound fromwhich he could see the windows of the first and second floor. Several ofthem were lighted. 

He waited for some little time. The lights went out one by one. Then, taking a direction opposite to that in which the doctor had gone, hebranched off to the right and skirted the wall until he came to theclump of trees near which he had hidden his motor-cycle on the daybefore. 

Eleven o'clock struck. He calculated the time which it would take thedoctor to cross the kitchen-garden and make his way into the house. 

"That's one point scored!" he muttered. "Everything's all right on thatside. And now, Lupin to the rescue? The enemy won't be long before heplays his last trump . .. And, by all the gods, I must be there!. .. "

He went through the same performance as on the first occasion, pulleddown the branch and hoisted himself to the top of the wall, from whichhe was able to reach the bigger boughs of the tree. 

Just then he pricked up his ears. He seemed to hear a rustling of deadleaves. And he actually perceived a dark form moving on the level thirtyyards away:

"Hang it all!" he said to himself. "I'm done: the scoundrel has smelt arat. "

A moonbeam pierced through the clouds. Lupin distinctly saw the man takeaim. He tried to jump to the ground and turned his head. But he feltsomething hit him in the chest, heard the sound of a report, uttered anangry oath and came crashing down from branch to branch, like a corpse. 

 * * * * *

Meanwhile, Doctor Guéroult, following Arsène Lupin's instructions, hadclimbed the ledge of the fifth window and groped his way to the firstfloor. On reaching Jeanne's room, he tapped lightly, three times, at thedoor and, immediately on entering, pushed the bolt:

"Lie down at once, " he whispered to the girl, who had not taken off herthings. "You must appear to have gone to bed. Brrrr, it's cold in here!Is the window open in your dressing-room?"

"Yes . .. Would you like me to . .. ?"

"No, leave it as it is. They are coming. "

"They are coming!" spluttered Jeanne, in affright. 

"Yes, beyond a doubt. "

"But who? Do you suspect any one?"

"I don't know who. .. . I expect that there is some one hidden in thehouse . .. Or in the park. "

"Oh, I feel so frightened!"

"Don't be frightened. The sportsman who's looking after you seems jollyclever and makes a point of playing a safe game. I expect he's on thelook-out in the court. "

The doctor put out the night-light, went to the window and raised theblind. A narrow cornice, running along the first story, prevented himfrom seeing more than a distant part of the courtyard; and he came backand sat down by the bed. 

Some very painful minutes passed, minutes that appeared to theminterminably long. The clock in the village struck; but, taken up asthey were with all the little noises of the night, they hardly noticedthe sound. They listened, listened, with all their nerves on edge:

"Did you hear?" whispered the doctor. 

"Yes . .. Yes, " said Jeanne, sitting up in bed. 

"Lie down . .. Lie down, " he said, presently. "There's some one coming. "

There was a little tapping sound outside, against the cornice. Next camea series of indistinct noises, the nature of which they could not makeout for certain. But they had a feeling that the window in thedressing-room was being opened wider, for they were buffeted by gusts ofcold air. 

Suddenly, it became quite clear: there was some one next door. 

The doctor, whose hand was trembling a little, seized his revolver. Nevertheless, he did not move, remembering the formal orders which hehad received and fearing to act against them. 

The room was in absolute darkness; and they were unable to see where theadversary was. But they felt his presence. 

They followed his invisible movements, the sound of his footstepsdeadened by the carpet; and they did not doubt but that he had alreadycrossed the threshold of the room. 

And the adversary stopped. Of that they were certain. He was standingsix steps away from the bed, motionless, undecided perhaps, seeking topierce the darkness with his keen eyes. 

Jeanne's hand, icy-cold and clammy, trembled in the doctor's grasp. 

With his other hand, the doctor clutched his revolver, with his fingeron the trigger. In spite of his pledged word, he did not hesitate. Ifthe adversary touched the end of the bed, the shot would be fired at aventure. 

The adversary took another step and then stopped again. And there wassomething awful about that silence, that impassive silence, thatdarkness in which those human beings were peering at one another, wildly. 

Who was it looming in the murky darkness? Who was the man? What horribleenmity was it that turned his hand against the girl and what abominableaim was he pursuing?

Terrified though they were, Jeanne and the doctor thought only of thatone thing: to see, to learn the truth, to gaze upon the adversary'sface. 

He took one more step and did not move again. It seemed to them that hisfigure stood out, darker, against the dark space and that his arm roseslowly, slowly. .. . 

A minute passed and then another minute. .. . 

And, suddenly, beyond the man, on the right a sharp click. .. . A brightlight flashed, was flung upon the man, lit him full in the face, remorselessly. 

Jeanne gave a cry of affright. She had seen--standing over her, with adagger in his hand--she had seen . .. Her father!

Almost at the same time, though the light was already turned off, therecame a report: the doctor had fired. 

"Dash it all, don't shoot!" roared Lupin. 

He threw his arms round the doctor, who choked out:

"Didn't you see?. .. Didn't you see?. .. Listen!. .. He's escaping!. .. "

"Let him escape: it's the best thing that could happen. "

He pressed the spring of his electric lantern again, ran to thedressing-room, made certain that the man had disappeared and, returningquietly to the table, lit the lamp. 

Jeanne lay on her bed, pallid, in a dead faint. 

The doctor, huddled in his chair, emitted inarticulate sounds. 

"Come, " said Lupin, laughing, "pull yourself together. There is nothingto excite ourselves about: it's all over. "

"Her father!. .. Her father!" moaned the old doctor. 

"If you please, doctor, Mlle. Darcieux is ill. Look after her. "

Without more words, Lupin went back to the dressing-room and stepped outon the window-ledge. A ladder stood against the ledge. He ran down it. Skirting the wall of the house, twenty steps farther, he tripped overthe rungs of a rope-ladder, which he climbed and found himself in M. Darcieux's bedroom. The room was empty. 

"Just so, " he said. "My gentleman did not like the position and hascleared out. Here's wishing him a good journey. .. . And, of course, thedoor is bolted?. .. Exactly!. .. That is how our sick man, tricking hisworthy medical attendant, used to get up at night in full security, fasten his rope-ladder to the balcony and prepare his little games. He'sno fool, is friend Darcieux!"

He drew the bolts and returned to Jeanne's room. The doctor, who wasjust coming out of the doorway, drew him to the little dining-room:

"She's asleep, don't let us disturb her. She has had a bad shock andwill take some time to recover. "

Lupin poured himself out a glass of water and drank it down. Then hetook a chair and, calmly:

"Pooh! She'll be all right by to-morrow. "

"What do you say?"

"I say that she'll be all right by to-morrow. "

"Why?"

"In the first place, because it did not strike me that Mlle. Darcieuxfelt any very great affection for her father. "

"Never mind! Think of it: a father who tries to kill his daughter! Afather who, for months on end, repeats his monstrous attempt four, five, six times over again!. .. Well, isn't that enough to blight a lesssensitive soul than Jeanne's for good and all? What a hateful memory!"

"She will forget. "

"One does not forget such a thing as that. "

"She will forget, doctor, and for a very simple reason. .. . "

"Explain yourself!"

"She is not M. Darcieux's daughter!"

"Eh?"

"I repeat, she is not that villain's daughter. "

"What do you mean? M. Darcieux. .. . "

"M. Darcieux is only her step-father. She had just been born when herfather, her real father, died. Jeanne's mother then married a cousin ofher husband's, a man bearing the same name, and she died within a yearof her second wedding. She left Jeanne in M. Darcieux's charge. He firsttook her abroad and then bought this country-house; and, as nobody knewhim in the neighbourhood, he represented the child as being hisdaughter. She herself did not know the truth about her birth. "

The doctor sat confounded. He asked:

"Are you sure of your facts?"

"I spent my day in the town-halls of the Paris municipalities. Isearched the registers, I interviewed two solicitors, I have seen allthe documents. There is no doubt possible. "

"But that does not explain the crime, or rather the series of crimes. "

"Yes, it does, " declared Lupin. "And, from the start, from the firsthour when I meddled in this business, some words which Mlle. Darcieuxused made me suspect that direction which my investigations must take. 'I was not quite five years old when my mother died, ' she said. 'Thatwas sixteen years ago. ' Mlle. Darcieux, therefore, was nearlytwenty-one, that is to say, she was on the verge of attaining hermajority. I at once saw that this was an important detail. The day onwhich you reach your majority is the day on which your accounts arerendered. What was the financial position of Mlle. Darcieux, who was hermother's natural heiress? Of course, I did not think of the father for asecond. To begin with, one can't imagine a thing like that; and then thefarce which M. Darcieux was playing . .. Helpless, bedridden, ill. .. . "

"Really ill, " interrupted the doctor. 

"All this diverted suspicion from him . .. The more so as I believe thathe himself was exposed to criminal attacks. But was there not in thefamily some person who would be interested in their removal? My journeyto Paris revealed the truth to me: Mlle. Darcieux inherits a largefortune from her mother, of which her step-father draws the income. Thesolicitor was to have called a meeting of the family in Paris nextmonth. The truth would have been out. It meant ruin to M. Darcieux. "

"Then he had put no money by?"

"Yes, but he had lost a great deal as the result of unfortunatespeculations. "

"But, after all, Jeanne would not have taken the management of herfortune out of his hands!"

"There is one detail which you do not know, doctor, and which I learntfrom reading the torn letter. Mlle. Darcieux is in love with the brotherof Marceline, her Versailles friend; M. Darcieux was opposed to themarriage; and--you now see the reason--she was waiting until she came ofage to be married. "

"You're right, " said the doctor, "you're right. .. . It meant his ruin. "

"His absolute ruin. One chance of saving himself remained, the death ofhis step-daughter, of whom he is the next heir. "

"Certainly, but on condition that no one suspected him. "

"Of course; and that is why he contrived the series of accidents, sothat the death might appear to be due to misadventure. And that is whyI, on my side, wishing to bring things to a head, asked you to tell himof Mlle. Darcieux's impending departure. From that moment, it was nolonger enough for the would-be sick man to wander about the grounds andthe passages, in the dark, and execute some leisurely thought-out plan. No, he had to act, to act at once, without preparation, violently, dagger in hand. I had no doubt that he would decide to do it. And hedid. "

"Then he had no suspicions?"

"Of me, yes. He felt that I would return to-night, and he kept a watchat the place where I had already climbed the wall. "

"Well?"

"Well, " said Lupin, laughing, "I received a bullet full in the chest. .. Or rather my pocket-book received a bullet. .. . Here, you can see thehole. .. . So I tumbled from the tree, like a dead man. Thinking that hewas rid of his only adversary, he went back to the house. I saw himprowl about for two hours. Then, making up his mind, he went to thecoach-house, took a ladder and set it against the window. I had only tofollow him. "

The doctor reflected and said:

"You could have collared him earlier. Why did you let him come up? Itwas a sore trial for Jeanne . .. And unnecessary. "

"On the contrary, it was indispensable! Mlle. Darcieux would never haveaccepted the truth. It was essential that she should see the murderer'svery face. You must tell her all the circumstances when she wakes. Shewill soon be well again. "

"But . .. M. Darcieux?"

"You can explain his disappearance as you think best . .. A suddenjourney . .. A fit of madness. .. . There will be a few inquiries. .. . Andyou may be sure that he will never be heard of again. "

The doctor nodded his head:

"Yes . .. That is so . .. That is so . .. You are right. You have managedall this business with extraordinary skill; and Jeanne owes you herlife. She will thank you in person. .. . But now, can I be of use to youin any way? You told me that you were connected with thedetective-service. .. . Will you allow me to write and praise yourconduct, your courage?"

Lupin began to laugh:

"Certainly! A letter of that kind will do me a world of good. You mightwrite to my immediate superior, Chief-inspector Ganimard. He will beglad to hear that his favourite officer, Paul Daubreuil, of the Rue deSurène, has once again distinguished himself by a brilliant action. Asit happens, I have an appointment to meet him about a case of which youmay have heard: the case of the red scarf. .. . How pleased my dear M. Ganimard will be!"

VII

A TRAGEDY IN THE FOREST OF MORGUES

The village was terror-stricken. 

It was on a Sunday morning. The peasants of Saint-Nicolas and theneighbourhood were coming out of church and spreading across the square, when, suddenly, the women who were walking ahead and who had alreadyturned into the high-road fell back with loud cries of dismay. 

At the same moment, an enormous motor-car, looking like some appallingmonster, came tearing into sight at a headlong rate of speed. Amid theshouts of the madly scattering people, it made straight for the church, swerved, just as it seemed about to dash itself to pieces against thesteps, grazed the wall of the presbytery, regained the continuation ofthe national road, dashed along, turned the corner and disappeared, without, by some incomprehensible miracle, having so much as brushedagainst any of the persons crowding the square. 

But they had seen! They had seen a man in the driver's seat, wrapped ina goat-skin coat, with a fur cap on his head and his face disguised in apair of large goggles, and, with him, on the front of that seat, flungback, bent in two, a woman whose head, all covered with blood, hung downover the bonnet. .. . 

And they had heard! They had heard the woman's screams, screams ofhorror, screams of agony. .. . 

And it was all such a vision of hell and carnage that the people stood, for some seconds, motionless, stupefied. 

"Blood!" roared somebody. 

There was blood everywhere, on the cobblestones of the square, on theground hardened by the first frosts of autumn; and, when a number of menand boys rushed off in pursuit of the motor, they had but to take thosesinister marks for their guide. 

The marks, on their part, followed the high-road, but in a very strangemanner, going from one side to the other and leaving a zigzag track, inthe wake of the tires, that made those who saw it shudder. How was itthat the car had not bumped against that tree? How had it been righted, instead of smashing into that bank? What novice, what madman, whatdrunkard, what frightened criminal was driving that motor-car with suchastounding bounds and swerves?

One of the peasants declared:

"They will never do the turn in the forest. "

And another said:

"Of course they won't! She's bound to upset!"

The Forest of Morgues began at half a mile beyond Saint-Nicolas; and theroad, which was straight up to that point, except for a slight bendwhere it left the village, started climbing, immediately after enteringthe forest, and made an abrupt turn among the rocks and trees. Nomotor-car was able to take this turn without first slackening speed. There were posts to give notice of the danger. 

The breathless peasants reached the quincunx of beeches that formed theedge of the forest. And one of them at once cried:

"There you are!"

"What?"

"Upset!"

The car, a limousine, had turned turtle and lay smashed, twisted andshapeless. Beside it, the woman's dead body. But the most horrible, sordid, stupefying thing was the woman's head, crushed, flattened, invisible under a block of stone, a huge block of stone lodged there bysome unknown and prodigious agency. As for the man in the goat-skincoat he was nowhere to be found. 

 * * * * *

He was not found on the scene of the accident. He was not found eitherin the neighbourhood. Moreover, some workmen coming down the Côte deMorgues declared that they had not seen anybody. 

The man, therefore, had taken refuge in the woods. 

The gendarmes, who were at once sent for, made a minute search, assistedby the peasants, but discovered nothing. In the same way, theexamining-magistrates, after a close inquiry lasting for several days, found no clue capable of throwing the least light upon this inscrutabletragedy. On the contrary, the investigations only led to furthermysteries and further improbabilities. 

Thus it was ascertained that the block of stone came from where therehad been a landslip, at least forty yards away. And the murderer, in afew minutes, had carried it all that distance and flung it on hisvictim's head. 

On the other hand, the murderer, who was most certainly not hiding inthe forest--for, if so, he must inevitably have been discovered, theforest being of limited extent--had the audacity, eight days after thecrime, to come back to the turn on the hill and leave his goat-skin coatthere. Why? With what object? There was nothing in the pockets of thecoat, except a corkscrew and a napkin. What did it all mean?

Inquiries were made of the builder of the motor-car, who recognized thelimousine as one which he had sold, three years ago, to a Russian. Thesaid Russian, declared the manufacturer, had sold it again at once. Towhom? No one knew. The car bore no number. 

Then again, it was impossible to identify the dead woman's body. Herclothes and underclothing were not marked in any way. And the face wasquite unknown. 

Meanwhile, detectives were going along the national road in thedirection opposite to that taken by the actors in this mysterioustragedy. But who was to prove that the car had followed that particularroad on the previous night?

They examined every yard of the ground, they questioned everybody. Atlast, they succeeded in learning that, on the Saturday evening, alimousine had stopped outside a grocer's shop in a small town situatedabout two hundred miles from Saint-Nicolas, on a highway branching outof the national road. The driver had first filled his tank, bought somespare cans of petrol and lastly taken away a small stock of provisions:a ham, fruit, biscuits, wine and a half-bottle of Three Star brandy. 

There was a lady on the driver's seat. She did not get down. The blindsof the limousine were drawn. One of these blinds was seen to moveseveral times. The shopman was positive that there was somebody inside. 

Presuming the shopman's evidence to be correct, then the problem becameeven more complicated, for, so far, no clue had revealed the presence ofa third person. 

Meanwhile, as the travellers had supplied themselves with provisions, itremained to be discovered what they had done with them and what hadbecome of the remains. 

The detectives retraced their steps. It was not until they came to thefork of the two roads, at a spot eleven or twelve miles fromSaint-Nicolas, that they met a shepherd who, in answer to theirquestions, directed them to a neighbouring field, hidden from viewbehind the screen of bushes, where he had seen an empty bottle and otherthings. 

The detectives were convinced at the first examination. The motor-carhad stopped there; and the unknown travellers, probably after a night'srest in their car, had breakfasted and resumed their journey in thecourse of the morning. 

One unmistakable proof was the half-bottle of Three Star brandy sold bythe grocer. This bottle had its neck broken clean off with a stone. Thestone employed for the purpose was picked up, as was the neck of thebottle, with its cork, covered with a tin-foil seal. The seal showedmarks of attempts that had been made to uncork the bottle in theordinary manner. 

The detectives continued their search and followed a ditch that ranalong the field at right angles to the road. It ended in a littlespring, hidden under brambles, which seemed to emit an offensive smell. On lifting the brambles, they perceived a corpse, the corpse of a manwhose head had been smashed in, so that it formed little more than asort of pulp, swarming with vermin. The body was dressed in jacket andtrousers of dark-brown leather. The pockets were empty: no papers, nopocket-book, no watch. 

The grocer and his shopman were summoned and, two days later, formallyidentified, by his dress and figure, the traveller who had bought thepetrol and provisions on the Saturday evening. 

The whole case, therefore, had to be reopened on a fresh basis. Theauthorities were confronted with a tragedy no longer enacted by twopersons, a man and a woman, of whom one had killed the other, but bythree persons, including two victims, of whom one was the very man whowas accused of killing his companion. 

As to the murderer, there was no doubt: he was the person who travelledinside the motor-car and who took the precaution to remain concealedbehind the curtains. He had first got rid of the driver and rifled hispockets and then, after wounding the woman, carried her off in a maddash for death. 

 * * * * *

Given a fresh case, unexpected discoveries, unforeseen evidence, onemight have hoped that the mystery would be cleared up, or, at least, that the inquiry would point a few steps along the road to the truth. But not at all. The corpse was simply placed beside the first corpse. New problems were added to the old. The accusation of murder was shiftedfrom the one to the other. And there it ended. Outside those tangible, obvious facts there was nothing but darkness. The name of the woman, thename of the man, the name of the murderer were so many riddles. And thenwhat had become of the murderer? If he had disappeared from one momentto the other, that in itself would have been a tolerably curiousphenomenon. But the phenomenon was actually something very like amiracle, inasmuch as the murderer had not absolutely disappeared. He wasthere! He made a practice of returning to the scene of the catastrophe!In addition to the goat-skin coat, a fur cap was picked up one day; and, by way of an unparalleled prodigy, one morning, after a whole nightspent on guard in the rock, beside the famous turning, the detectivesfound, on the grass of the turning itself, a pair of motor-goggles, broken, rusty, dirty, done for. How had the murderer managed to bringback those goggles unseen by the detectives? And, above all, why had hebrought them back?

Men's brains reeled in the presence of such abnormalities. They werealmost afraid to pursue the ambiguous adventure. They received theimpression of a heavy, stifling, breathless atmosphere, which dimmed theeyes and baffled the most clear-sighted. 

The magistrate in charge of the case fell ill. Four days later, hissuccessor confessed that the matter was beyond him. 

Two tramps were arrested and at once released. Another was pursued, butnot caught; moreover, there was no evidence of any sort or kind againsthim. In short, it was nothing but one helpless muddle of mist andcontradiction. 

An accident, the merest accident led to the solution, or rather produceda series of circumstances that ended by leading to the solution. Areporter on the staff of an important Paris paper, who had been sent tomake investigations on the spot, concluded his article with thefollowing words:

"I repeat, therefore, that we must wait for fresh events, fresh facts;we must wait for some lucky accident. As things stand, we are simplywasting our time. The elements of truth are not even sufficient tosuggest a plausible theory. We are in the midst of the most absolute, painful, impenetrable darkness. There is nothing to be done. All theSherlock Holmeses in the world would not know what to make of themystery, and Arsène Lupin himself, if he will allow me to say so, wouldhave to pay forfeit here. "

 * * * * *

On the day after the appearance of that article, the newspaper inquestion printed this telegram:

 "Have sometimes paid forfeit, but never over such a silly thing as this. The Saint-Nicolas tragedy is a mystery for babies. 

 "ARSÈNE LUPIN. "

And the editor added:

 "We insert this telegram as a matter of curiosity, for it is obviously the work of a wag. Arsène Lupin, past-master though he be in the art of practical joking, would be the last man to display such childish flippancy. "

Two days elapsed; and then the paper published the famous letter, soprecise and categorical in its conclusions, in which Arsène Lupinfurnished the solution of the problem. I quote it in full:

 "Sir:

 "You have taken me on my weak side by defying me. You challenge me, and I accept the challenge. And I will begin by declaring once more that the Saint-Nicolas tragedy is a mystery for babies. I know nothing so simple, so natural; and the proof of the simplicity shall lie in the succinctness of my demonstration. It is contained in these few words: when a crime seems to go beyond the ordinary scope of things, when it seems unusual and stupid, then there are many chances that its explanation is to be found in superordinary, supernatural, superhuman motives. 

 "I say that there are many chances, for we must always allow for the part played by absurdity in the most logical and commonplace events. But, of course, it is impossible to see things as they are and not to take account of the absurd and the disproportionate. 

 "I was struck from the very beginning by that very evident character of unusualness. We have, first of all, the awkward, zigzag course of the motor-car, which would give one the impression that the car was driven by a novice. People have spoken of a drunkard or a madman, a justifiable supposition in itself. But neither madness nor drunkenness would account for the incredible strength required to transport, especially in so short a space of time, the stone with which the unfortunate woman's head was crushed. That proceeding called for a muscular power so great that I do not hesitate to look upon it as a second sign of the unusualness that marks the whole tragedy. And why move that enormous stone, to finish off the victim, when a mere pebble would have done the work? Why again was the murderer not killed, or at least reduced to a temporary state of helplessness, in the terrible somersault turned by the car? How did he disappear? And why, having disappeared, did he return to the scene of the accident? Why did he throw his fur coat there; then, on another day, his cap; then, on another day, his goggles?

 "Unusual, useless, stupid acts. 

 "Why, besides, convey that wounded, dying woman on the driver's seat of the car, where everybody could see her? Why do that, instead of putting her inside, or flinging her into some corner, dead, just as the man was flung under the brambles in the ditch?

 "Unusualness, stupidity. 

 "Everything in the whole story is absurd. Everything points to hesitation, incoherency, awkwardness, the silliness of a child or rather of a mad, blundering savage, of a brute. 

 "Look at the bottle of brandy. There was a corkscrew: it was found in the pocket of the great coat. Did the murderer use it? Yes, the marks of the corkscrew can be seen on the seal. But the operation was too complicated for him. He broke the neck with a stone. Always stones: observe that detail. They are the only weapon, the only implement which the creature employs. It is his customary weapon, his familiar implement. He kills the man with a stone, he kills the woman with a stone and he opens bottles with a stone!

 "A brute, I repeat, a savage; disordered, unhinged, suddenly driven mad. By what? Why, of course, by that same brandy, which he swallowed at a draught while the driver and his companion were having breakfast in the field. He got out of the limousine, in which he was travelling, in his goat-skin coat and his fur cap, took the bottle, broke off the neck and drank. There is the whole story. Having drunk, he went raving mad and hit out at random, without reason. Then, seized with instinctive fear, dreading the inevitable punishment, he hid the body of the man. Then, like an idiot, he took up the wounded woman and ran away. He ran away in that motor-car which he did not know how to work, but which to him represented safety, escape from capture. 

 "But the money, you will ask, the stolen pocket-book? Why, who says that he was the thief? Who says that it was not some passing tramp, some labourer, guided by the stench of the corpse?

 "Very well, you object, but the brute would have been found, as he is hiding somewhere near the turn, and as, after all, he must eat and drink. 

 "Well, well, I see that you have not yet understood. The simplest way, I suppose, to have done and to answer your objections is to make straight for the mark. Then let the gentlemen of the police and the gendarmerie themselves make straight for the mark. Let them take firearms. Let them explore the forest within a radius of two or three hundred yards from the turn, no more. But, instead of exploring with their heads down and their eyes fixed on the ground, let them look up into the air, yes, into the air, among the leaves and branches of the tallest oaks and the most unlikely beeches. And, believe me, they will see him. For he is there. He is there, bewildered, piteously at a loss, seeking for the man and woman whom he has killed, looking for them and waiting for them and not daring to go away and quite unable to understand. 

 "I myself am exceedingly sorry that I am kept in town by urgent private affairs and by some complicated matters of business which I have to set going, for I should much have liked to see the end of this rather curious adventure. 

 "Pray, therefore excuse me to my kind friends in the police and permit me to be, sir, "Your obedient servant, "ARSÈNE LUPIN. "

 * * * * *

The upshot will be remembered. The "gentlemen of the police and thegendarmerie" shrugged their shoulders and paid no attention to thislucubration. But four of the local country gentry took their rifles andwent shooting, with their eyes fixed skyward, as though they meant topot a few rooks. In half an hour they had caught sight of the murderer. Two shots, and he came tumbling from bough to bough. He was onlywounded, and they took him alive. 

That evening, a Paris paper, which did not yet know of the capture, printed the following paragraphs:

 "Enquiries are being made after a M. And Mme. Bragoff, who landed at Marseilles six weeks ago and there hired a motor-car. They had been living in Australia for many years, during which time they had not visited Europe; and they wrote to the director of the Jardin d'Acclimatation, with whom they were in the habit of corresponding, that they were bringing with them a curious creature, of an entirely unknown species, of which it was difficult to say whether it was a man or a monkey. 

 "According to M. Bragoff, who is an eminent archæologist, the specimen in question is the anthropoid ape, or rather the ape-man, the existence of which had not hitherto been definitely proved. The structure is said to be exactly similar to that of _Pithecanthropus erectus_, discovered by Dr. Dubois in Java in 1891. 

 "This curious, intelligent and observant animal acted as its owner's servant on their property in Australia and used to clean their motor-car and even attempt to drive it. 

 "The question that is being asked is where are M. And Mme. Bragoff? Where is the strange primate that landed with them at Marseilles?"

The answer to this question was now made easy. Thanks to the hintssupplied by Arsène Lupin, all the elements of the tragedy were known. Thanks to him, the culprit was in the hands of the law. 

You can see him at the Jardin d'Acclimatation, where he is locked upunder the name of "Three Stars. " He is, in point of fact, a monkey; buthe is also a man. He has the gentleness and the wisdom of the domesticanimals and the sadness which they feel when their master dies. But hehas many other qualities that bring him much closer to humanity: he istreacherous, cruel, idle, greedy and quarrelsome; and, above all, he isimmoderately fond of brandy. 

Apart from that, he is a monkey. Unless indeed . .. !

 * * * * *

A few days after Three Stars' arrest, I saw Arsène Lupin standing infront of his cage. Lupin was manifestly trying to solve this interestingproblem for himself. I at once said, for I had set my heart upon havingthe matter out with him:

"You know, Lupin, that intervention of yours, your argument, yourletter, in short, did not surprise me so much as you might think!"

"Oh, really?" he said, calmly. "And why?"

"Why? Because the incident has occurred before, seventy or eighty yearsago. Edgar Allan Poe made it the subject of one of his finest tales. Inthose circumstances, the key to the riddle was easy enough to find. "

Arsène Lupin took my arm, and walking away with me, said:

"When did you guess it, yourself?"

"On reading your letter, " I confessed. 

"And at what part of my letter?"

"At the end. "

"At the end, eh? After I had dotted all the i's. So here is a crimewhich accident causes to be repeated, under quite different conditions, it is true, but still with the same sort of hero; and your eyes had tobe opened, as well as other people's. It needed the assistance of myletter, the letter in which I amused myself--apart from the exigenciesof the facts--by employing the argument and sometimes the identicalwords used by the American poet in a story which everybody has read. Soyou see that my letter was not absolutely useless and that one maysafely venture to repeat to people things which they have learnt only toforget them. "

Wherewith Lupin turned on his heel and burst out laughing in the face ofan old monkey, who sat with the air of a philosopher, gravelymeditating. 

VIII

LUPIN'S MARRIAGE

 "Monsieur Arsène Lupin has the honour to inform you of his approaching marriage with Mademoiselle Angélique de Sarzeau-Vendôme, Princesse de Bourbon-Condé, and to request the pleasure of your company at the wedding, which will take place at the church of Sainte-Clotilde. .. . "

 "The Duc de Sarzeau-Vendôme has the honour to inform you of the approaching marriage of his daughter Angélique, Princesse de Bourbon-Condé, with Monsieur Arsène Lupin, and to request. .. . "

Jean Duc de Sarzeau-Vendôme could not finish reading the invitationswhich he held in his trembling hand. Pale with anger, his long, leanbody shaking with tremors:

"There!" he gasped, handing the two communications to his daughter. "This is what our friends have received! This has been the talk of Parissince yesterday! What do you say to that dastardly insult, Angélique?What would your poor mother say to it, if she were alive?"

Angélique was tall and thin like her father, skinny and angular likehim. She was thirty-three years of age, always dressed in black stuff, shy and retiring in manner, with a head too small in proportion to herheight and narrowed on either side until the nose seemed to jut forth inprotest against such parsimony. And yet it would be impossible to saythat she was ugly, for her eyes were extremely beautiful, soft andgrave, proud and a little sad: pathetic eyes which to see once was toremember. 

She flushed with shame at hearing her father's words, which told her thescandal of which she was the victim. But, as she loved him, notwithstanding his harshness to her, his injustice and despotism, shesaid:

"Oh, I think it must be meant for a joke, father, to which we need payno attention!"

"A joke? Why, every one is gossiping about it! A dozen papers haveprinted the confounded notice this morning, with satirical comments. They quote our pedigree, our ancestors, our illustrious dead. Theypretend to take the thing seriously. .. . "

"Still, no one could believe. .. . "

"Of course not. But that doesn't prevent us from being the by-word ofParis. "

"It will all be forgotten by to-morrow. "

"To-morrow, my girl, people will remember that the name of Angélique deSarzeau-Vendôme has been bandied about as it should not be. Oh, if Icould find out the name of the scoundrel who has dared. .. . "

At that moment, Hyacinthe, the duke's valet, came in and said thatmonsieur le duc was wanted on the telephone. Still fuming, he took downthe receiver and growled:

"Well? Who is it? Yes, it's the Duc de Sarzeau-Vendôme speaking. "

A voice replied:

"I want to apologize to you, monsieur le duc, and to Mlle. Angélique. It's my secretary's fault. "

"Your secretary?"

"Yes, the invitations were only a rough draft which I meant to submit toyou. Unfortunately my secretary thought. .. . "

"But, tell me, monsieur, who are you?"

"What, monsieur le duc, don't you know my voice? The voice of yourfuture son-in-law?"

"What!"

"Arsène Lupin. "

The duke dropped into a chair. His face was livid. 

"Arsène Lupin . .. It's he . .. Arsène Lupin. .. . "

Angélique gave a smile:

"You see, father, it's only a joke, a hoax. "

But the duke's rage broke out afresh and he began to walk up and down, moving his arms:

"I shall go to the police!. .. The fellow can't be allowed to make a foolof me in this way!. .. If there's any law left in the land, it must bestopped!"

Hyacinthe entered the room again. He brought two visiting-cards. 

"Chotois? Lepetit? Don't know them. "

"They are both journalists, monsieur le duc. "

"What do they want?"

"They would like to speak to monsieur le duc with regard to . .. Themarriage. .. . "

"Turn them out!" exclaimed the duke. "Kick them out! And tell the porternot to admit scum of that sort to my house in future. "

"Please, father . .. " Angélique ventured to say. 

"As for you, shut up! If you had consented to marry one of your cousinswhen I wanted you to this wouldn't have happened. "

The same evening, one of the two reporters printed, on the front page ofhis paper, a somewhat fanciful story of his expedition to the familymansion of the Sarzeau-Vendômes, in the Rue de Varennes, and expatiatedpleasantly upon the old nobleman's wrathful protests. 

The next morning, another newspaper published an interview with ArsèneLupin which was supposed to have taken place in a lobby at the Opera. Arsène Lupin retorted in a letter to the editor:

 "I share my prospective father-in-law's indignation to the full. The sending out of the invitations was a gross breach of etiquette for which I am not responsible, but for which I wish to make a public apology. Why, sir, the date of the marriage is not yet fixed. My bride's father suggests early in May. She and I think that six weeks is really too long to wait!. .. "

That which gave a special piquancy to the affair and added immensely tothe enjoyment of the friends of the family was the duke's well-knowncharacter: his pride and the uncompromising nature of his ideas andprinciples. Duc Jean was the last descendant of the Barons de Sarzeau, the most ancient family in Brittany; he was the lineal descendant ofthat Sarzeau who, upon marrying a Vendôme, refused to bear the new titlewhich Louis XV forced upon him until after he had been imprisoned forten years in the Bastille; and he had abandoned none of the prejudicesof the old régime. In his youth, he followed the Comte de Chambord intoexile. In his old age, he refused a seat in the Chamber on the pretextthat a Sarzeau could only sit with his peers. 

The incident stung him to the quick. Nothing could pacify him. He cursedLupin in good round terms, threatened him with every sort of punishmentand rounded on his daughter:

"There, if you had only married!. .. After all you had plenty of chances. Your three cousins, Mussy, d'Emboise and Caorches, are noblemen of gooddescent, allied to the best families, fairly well-off; and they arestill anxious to marry you. Why do you refuse them? Ah, because miss isa dreamer, a sentimentalist; and because her cousins are too fat, or toothin, or too coarse for her. .. . "

She was, in fact, a dreamer. Left to her own devices from childhood, shehad read all the books of chivalry, all the colourless romances ofolden-time that littered the ancestral presses; and she looked upon lifeas a fairy-tale in which the beauteous maidens are always happy, whilethe others wait till death for the bridegroom who does not come. Whyshould she marry one of her cousins when they were only after her money, the millions which she had inherited from her mother? She might as wellremain an old maid and go on dreaming. .. . 

She answered, gently:

"You will end by making yourself ill, father. Forget this sillybusiness. "

But how could he forget it? Every morning, some pin-prick renewed hiswound. Three days running, Angélique received a wonderful sheaf offlowers, with Arsène Lupin's card peeping from it. The duke could not goto his club but a friend accosted him:

"That was a good one to-day!"

"What was?"

"Why, your son-in-law's latest! Haven't you seen it? Here, read it foryourself: 'M. Arsène Lupin is petitioning the Council of State forpermission to add his wife's name to his own and to be known henceforthas Lupin de Sarzeau-Vendôme. '"

And, the next day, he read:

 "As the young bride, by virtue of an unrepealed decree of Charles X, bears the title and arms of the Bourbon-Condés, of whom she is the heiress-of-line, the eldest son of the Lupins de Sarzeau-Vendôme will be styled Prince de Bourbon-Condé. "

And, the day after, an advertisement. 

 "Exhibition of Mlle. De Sarzeau-Vendôme's trousseau at Messrs. ----'s Great Linen Warehouse. Each article marked with initials L. S. V. "

Then an illustrated paper published a photographic scene: the duke, hisdaughter and his son-in-law sitting at a table playing three-handedauction-bridge. 

And the date also was announced with a great flourish of trumpets: the4th of May. 

And particulars were given of the marriage-settlement. Lupin showedhimself wonderfully disinterested. He was prepared to sign, thenewspapers said, with his eyes closed, without knowing the figure of thedowry. 

All these things drove the old duke crazy. His hatred of Lupin assumedmorbid proportions. Much as it went against the grain, he called on theprefect of police, who advised him to be on his guard:

"We know the gentleman's ways; he is employing one of his favouritedodges. Forgive the expression, monsieur le duc, but he is 'nursing'you. Don't fall into the trap. "

"What dodge? What trap?" asked the duke, anxiously. 

"He is trying to make you lose your head and to lead you, byintimidation, to do something which you would refuse to do in coldblood. "

"Still, M. Arsène Lupin can hardly hope that I will offer him mydaughter's hand!"

"No, but he hopes that you will commit, to put it mildly, a blunder. "

"What blunder?"

"Exactly that blunder which he wants you to commit. "

"Then you think, monsieur le préfet . .. ?"

"I think the best thing you can do, monsieur le duc, is to go home, or, if all this excitement worries you, to run down to the country and staythere quietly, without upsetting yourself. "

This conversation only increased the old duke's fears. Lupin appeared tohim in the light of a terrible person, who employed diabolical methodsand kept accomplices in every sphere of society. Prudence was thewatchword. 

And life, from that moment, became intolerable. The duke grew morecrabbed and silent than ever and denied his door to all his old friendsand even to Angélique's three suitors, her Cousins de Mussy, d'Emboiseand de Caorches, who were none of them on speaking terms with theothers, in consequence of their rivalry, and who were in the habit ofcalling, turn and turn about, every week. 

For no earthly reason, he dismissed his butler and his coachman. But hedared not fill their places, for fear of engaging creatures of ArsèneLupin's; and his own man, Hyacinthe, in whom he had every confidence, having had him in his service for over forty years, had to take uponhimself the laborious duties of the stables and the pantry. 

"Come, father, " said Angélique, trying to make him listen tocommon-sense. "I really can't see what you are afraid of. No one canforce me into this ridiculous marriage. "

"Well, of course, that's not what I'm afraid of. "

"What then, father?"

"How can I tell? An abduction! A burglary! An act of violence! There isno doubt that the villain is scheming something; and there is also nodoubt that we are surrounded by spies. "

One afternoon, he received a newspaper in which the following paragraphwas marked in red pencil:

 "The signing of the marriage-contract is fixed for this evening, at the Sarzeau-Vendôme town-house. It will be quite a private ceremony and only a few privileged friends will be present to congratulate the happy pair. The witnesses to the contract on behalf of Mlle. De Sarzeau-Vendôme, the Prince de la Rochefoucauld-Limours and the Comte de Chartres, will be introduced by M. Arsène Lupin to the two gentlemen who have claimed the honour of acting as his groomsmen, namely, the prefect of police and the governor of the Santé Prison. "

Ten minutes later, the duke sent his servant Hyacinthe to the post withthree express messages. At four o'clock, in Angélique's presence, he sawthe three cousins: Mussy, fat, heavy, pasty-faced; d'Emboise, slender, fresh-coloured and shy: Caorches, short, thin and unhealthy-looking: allthree, old bachelors by this time, lacking distinction in dress orappearance. 

The meeting was a short one. The duke had worked out his whole plan ofcampaign, a defensive campaign, of which he set forth the first stage inexplicit terms:

"Angélique and I will leave Paris to-night for our place in Brittany. Irely on you, my three nephews, to help us get away. You, d'Emboise, willcome and fetch us in your car, with the hood up. You, Mussy, will bringyour big motor and kindly see to the luggage with Hyacinthe, my man. You, Caorches, will go to the Gare d'Orléans and book our berths in thesleeping-car for Vannes by the 10. 40 train. Is that settled?"

The rest of the day passed without incident. The duke, to avoid anyaccidental indiscretion, waited until after dinner to tell Hyacinthe topack a trunk and a portmanteau. Hyacinthe was to accompany them, as wellas Angélique's maid. 

At nine o'clock, all the other servants went to bed, by their master'sorder. At ten minutes to ten, the duke, who was completing hispreparations, heard the sound of a motor-horn. The porter opened thegates of the courtyard. The duke, standing at the window, recognizedd'Emboise's landaulette:

"Tell him I shall be down presently, " he said to Hyacinthe, "and letmademoiselle know. "

In a few minutes, as Hyacinthe did not return, he left his room. But hewas attacked on the landing by two masked men, who gagged and bound himbefore he could utter a cry. And one of the men said to him, in a lowvoice:

"Take this as a first warning, monsieur le duc. If you persist inleaving Paris and refusing your consent, it will be a more seriousmatter. "

And the same man said to his companion:

"Keep an eye on him. I will see to the young lady. "

By that time, two other confederates had secured the lady's maid; andAngélique, herself gagged, lay fainting on a couch in her boudoir. 

She came to almost immediately, under the stimulus of a bottle of saltsheld to her nostrils; and, when she opened her eyes, she saw bendingover her a young man, in evening-clothes, with a smiling and friendlyface, who said:

"I implore your forgiveness, mademoiselle. All these happenings are atrifle sudden and this behaviour rather out of the way. Butcircumstances often compel us to deeds of which our conscience does notapprove. Pray pardon me. "

He took her hand very gently and slipped a broad gold ring on the girl'sfinger, saying:

"There, now we are engaged. Never forget the man who gave you this ring. He entreats you not to run away from him . .. And to stay in Paris andawait the proofs of his devotion. Have faith in him. "

He said all this in so serious and respectful a voice, with so muchauthority and deference, that she had not the strength to resist. Theireyes met. He whispered:

"The exquisite purity of your eyes! It would be heavenly to live withthose eyes upon one. Now close them. .. . "

He withdrew. His accomplices followed suit. The car drove off, and thehouse in the Rue de Varennes remained still and silent until the momentwhen Angélique, regaining complete consciousness, called out for theservants. 

They found the duke, Hyacinthe, the lady's maid and the porter and hiswife all tightly bound. A few priceless ornaments had disappeared, aswell as the duke's pocket-book and all his jewellery; tie pins, pearlstuds, watch and so on. 

The police were advised without delay. In the morning it appeared that, on the evening before, d'Emboise, when leaving his house in themotor-car, was stabbed by his own chauffeur and thrown, half-dead, intoa deserted street. Mussy and Caorches had each received atelephone-message, purporting to come from the duke, countermandingtheir attendance. 

Next week, without troubling further about the police investigation, without obeying the summons of the examining-magistrate, without evenreading Arsène Lupin's letters to the papers on "the Varennes Flight, "the duke, his daughter and his valet stealthily took a slow train forVannes and arrived one evening, at the old feudal castle that towersover the headland of Sarzeau. The duke at once organized a defence withthe aid of the Breton peasants, true mediæval vassals to a man. On thefourth day, Mussy arrived; on the fifth, Caorches; and, on the seventh, d'Emboise, whose wound was not as severe as had been feared. 

The duke waited two days longer before communicating to those about himwhat, now that his escape had succeeded in spite of Lupin, he called thesecond part of his plan. He did so, in the presence of the threecousins, by a dictatorial order to Angélique, expressed in theseperemptory terms:

"All this bother is upsetting me terribly. I have entered on a strugglewith this man whose daring you have seen for yourself; and the struggleis killing me. I want to end it at all costs. There is only one way ofdoing so, Angélique, and that is for you to release me from allresponsibility by accepting the hand of one of your cousins. Before amonth is out, you must be the wife of Mussy, Caorches or d'Emboise. Youhave a free choice. Make your decision. "

For four whole days Angélique wept and entreated her father, but invain. She felt that he would be inflexible and that she must end bysubmitting to his wishes. She accepted:

"Whichever you please, father. I love none of them. So I may as well beunhappy with one as with the other. "

Thereupon a fresh discussion ensued, as the duke wanted to compel her tomake her own choice. She stood firm. Reluctantly and for financialconsiderations, he named d'Emboise. 

The banns were published without delay. 

From that moment, the watch in and around the castle was increasedtwofold, all the more inasmuch as Lupin's silence and the suddencessation of the campaign which he had been conducting in the presscould not but alarm the Duc de Sarzeau-Vendôme. It was obvious that theenemy was getting ready to strike and would endeavour to oppose themarriage by one of his characteristic moves. 

Nevertheless, nothing happened: nothing two days before the ceremony, nothing on the day before, nothing on the morning itself. The marriagetook place in the mayor's office, followed by the religious celebrationin church; and the thing was done. 

Then and not till then, the duke breathed freely. Notwithstanding hisdaughter's sadness, notwithstanding the embarrassed silence of hisson-in-law, who found the situation a little trying, he rubbed his handswith an air of pleasure, as though he had achieved a brilliant victory:

"Tell them to lower the drawbridge, " he said to Hyacinthe, "and to admiteverybody. We have nothing more to fear from that scoundrel. "

After the wedding-breakfast, he had wine served out to the peasants andclinked glasses with them. They danced and sang. 

At three o'clock, he returned to the ground-floor rooms. It was the hourfor his afternoon nap. He walked to the guard-room at the end of thesuite. But he had no sooner placed his foot on the threshold than hestopped suddenly and exclaimed:

"What are you doing here, d'Emboise? Is this a joke?"

D'Emboise was standing before him, dressed as a Breton fisherman, in adirty jacket and breeches, torn, patched and many sizes too large forhim. 

The duke seemed dumbfounded. He stared with eyes of amazement at thatface which he knew and which, at the same time, roused memories of avery distant past within his brain. Then he strode abruptly to one ofthe windows overlooking the castle-terrace and called:

"Angélique!"

"What is it, father?" she asked, coming forward. 

"Where's your husband?"

"Over there, father, " said Angélique, pointing to d'Emboise, who wassmoking a cigarette and reading, some way off. 

The duke stumbled and fell into a chair, with a great shudder of fright:

"Oh, I shall go mad!"

But the man in the fisherman's garb knelt down before him and said:

"Look at me, uncle. You know me, don't you? I'm your nephew, the one whoused to play here in the old days, the one whom you called Jacquot. .. . Just think a minute. .. . Here, look at this scar. .. . "

"Yes, yes, " stammered the duke, "I recognize you. It's Jacques. But theother one. .. . "

He put his hands to his head:

"And yet, no, it can't be . .. Explain yourself. .. . I don'tunderstand. .. . I don't want to understand. .. . "

There was a pause, during which the newcomer shut the window and closedthe door leading to the next room. Then he came up to the old duke, touched him gently on the shoulder, to wake him from his torpor, andwithout further preface, as though to cut short any explanation that wasnot absolutely necessary, spoke as follows:

"Four years ago, that is to say, in the eleventh year of my voluntaryexile, when I settled in the extreme south of Algeria, I made theacquaintance, in the course of a hunting-expedition arranged by a bigArab chief, of a man whose geniality, whose charm of manner, whoseconsummate prowess, whose indomitable pluck, whose combined humour anddepth of mind fascinated me in the highest degree. The Comte d'Andrésyspent six weeks as my guest. After he left, we kept up a correspondenceat regular intervals. I also often saw his name in the papers, in thesociety and sporting columns. He was to come back and I was preparing toreceive him, three months ago, when, one evening as I was out riding, mytwo Arab attendants flung themselves upon me, bound me, blindfolded meand took me, travelling day and night, for a week, along deserted roads, to a bay on the coast, where five men awaited them. I was at oncecarried on board a small steam-yacht, which weighed anchor withoutdelay. There was nothing to tell me who the men were nor what theirobject was in kidnapping me. They had locked me into a narrow cabin, secured by a massive door and lighted by a port-hole protected by twoiron cross-bars. Every morning, a hand was inserted through a hatchbetween the next cabin and my own and placed on my bunk two or threepounds of bread, a good helping of food and a flagon of wine and removedthe remains of yesterday's meals, which I put there for the purpose. From time to time, at night, the yacht stopped and I heard the sound ofthe boat rowing to some harbour and then returning, doubtless withprovisions. Then we set out once more, without hurrying, as though on acruise of people of our class, who travel for pleasure and are notpressed for time. Sometimes, standing on a chair, I would see thecoastline, through my port-hole, too indistinctly, however, to locateit. And this lasted for weeks. One morning, in the ninth week, Iperceived that the hatch had been left unfastened and I pushed it open. The cabin was empty at the time. With an effort, I was able to take anail-file from a dressing-table. Two weeks after that, by dint ofpatient perseverance, I had succeeded in filing through the bars of myport-hole and I could have escaped that way, only, though I am a goodswimmer, I soon grow tired. I had therefore to choose a moment when theyacht was not too far from the land. It was not until yesterday that, perched on my chair, I caught sight of the coast; and, in the evening, at sunset, I recognized, to my astonishment, the outlines of theChâteau de Sarzeau, with its pointed turrets and its square keep. Iwondered if this was the goal of my mysterious voyage. All night long, we cruised in the offing. The same all day yesterday. At last, thismorning, we put in at a distance which I considered favourable, all themore so as we were steaming through rocks under cover of which I couldswim unobserved. But, just as I was about to make my escape, I noticedthat the shutter of the hatch, which they thought they had closed, hadonce more opened of itself and was flapping against the partition. Iagain pushed it ajar from curiosity. Within arm's length was a littlecupboard which I managed to open and in which my hand, groping atrandom, laid hold of a bundle of papers. This consisted of letters, letters containing instructions addressed to the pirates who held meprisoner. An hour later, when I wriggled through the port-hole andslipped into the sea, I knew all: the reasons for my abduction, themeans employed, the object in view and the infamous scheme plottedduring the last three months against the Duc de Sarzeau-Vendôme and hisdaughter. Unfortunately, it was too late. I was obliged, in order not tobe seen from the yacht, to crouch in the cleft of a rock and did notreach land until mid-day. By the time that I had been to a fisherman'scabin, exchanged my clothes for his and come on here, it was threeo'clock. On my arrival. I learnt that Angélique's marriage wascelebrated this morning. "

The old duke had not spoken a word. With his eyes riveted on thestranger's, he was listening in ever-increasing dismay. At times, thethought of the warnings given him by the prefect of police returned tohis mind:

"They're nursing you, monsieur le duc, they are nursing you. "

He said, in a hollow voice:

"Speak on . .. Finish your story. .. . All this is ghastly. .. . I don'tunderstand it yet . .. And I feel nervous. .. . "

The stranger resumed:

"I am sorry to say, the story is easily pieced together and is summed upin a few sentences. It is like this: the Comte d'Andrésy rememberedseveral things from his stay with me and from the confidences which Iwas foolish enough to make to him. First of all, I was your nephew andyet you had seen comparatively little of me, because I left Sarzeau whenI was quite a child, and since then our intercourse was limited to thefew weeks which I spent here, fifteen years ago, when I proposed for thehand of my Cousin Angélique; secondly, having broken with the past, Ireceived no letters; lastly, there was a certain physical resemblancebetween d'Andrésy and myself which could be accentuated to such anextent as to become striking. His scheme was built up on those threepoints. He bribed my Arab servants to give him warning in case I leftAlgeria. Then he went back to Paris, bearing my name and made up to lookexactly like me, came to see you, was invited to your house once afortnight and lived under my name, which thus became one of the manyaliases beneath which he conceals his real identity. Three months ago, when 'the apple was ripe, ' as he says in his letters, he began theattack by a series of communications to the press; and, at the sametime, fearing no doubt that some newspaper would tell me in Algeria thepart that was being played under my name in Paris, he had me assaultedby my servants and kidnapped by his confederates. I need not explain anymore in so far as you are concerned, uncle. "

The Duc de Sarzeau-Vendôme was shaken with a fit of nervous trembling. The awful truth to which he refused to open his eyes appeared to him inits nakedness and assumed the hateful countenance of the enemy. Heclutched his nephew's hands and said to him, fiercely, despairingly:

"It's Lupin, is it not?"

"Yes, uncle. "

"And it's to him . .. It's to him that I have given my daughter!"

"Yes, uncle, to him, who has stolen my name of Jacques d'Emboise from meand stolen your daughter from you. Angélique is the wedded wife ofArsène Lupin; and that in accordance with your orders. This letter inhis handwriting bears witness to it. He has upset your whole life, thrown you off your balance, besieging your hours of waking and yournights of dreaming, rifling your town-house, until the moment when, seized with terror, you took refuge here, where, thinking that you wouldescape his artifices and his rapacity, you told your daughter to chooseone of her three cousins, Mussy, d'Emboise or Caorches, as her husband. 

"But why did she select that one rather than the others?"

"It was you who selected him, uncle. "

"At random . .. Because he had the biggest income. .. . "

"No, not at random, but on the insidious, persistent and very cleveradvice of your servant Hyacinthe. "

The duke gave a start:

"What! Is Hyacinthe an accomplice?"

"No, not of Arsène Lupin, but of the man whom he believes to bed'Emboise and who promised to give him a hundred thousand francs withina week after the marriage. "

"Oh, the villain!. .. He planned everything, foresaw everything. .. . "

"Foresaw everything, uncle, down to shamming an attempt upon his life soas to avert suspicion, down to shamming a wound received in yourservice. "

"But with what object? Why all these dastardly tricks?"

"Angélique has a fortune of eleven million francs. Your solicitor inParis was to hand the securities next week to the counterfeit d'Emboise, who had only to realize them forthwith and disappear. But, this verymorning, you yourself were to hand your son-in-law, as a personalwedding-present, five hundred thousand francs' worth of bearer-stock, which he has arranged to deliver to one of his accomplices at nineo'clock this evening, outside the castle, near the Great Oak, so thatthey may be negotiated to-morrow morning in Brussels. "

The Duc de Sarzeau-Vendôme had risen from his seat and was stampingfuriously up and down the room:

"At nine o'clock this evening?" he said. "We'll see about that. .. . We'llsee about that. .. . I'll have the gendarmes here before then. .. . "

"Arsène Lupin laughs at gendarmes. "

"Let's telegraph to Paris. "

"Yes, but how about the five hundred thousand francs?. .. And, stillworse, uncle, the scandal?. .. Think of this: your daughter, Angélique deSarzeau-Vendôme, married to that swindler, that thief. .. . No, no, itwould never do. .. . "

"What then?"

"What?. .. "

The nephew now rose and, stepping to a gun-rack, took down a rifle andlaid it on the table, in front of the duke:

"Away in Algeria, uncle, on the verge of the desert, when we findourselves face to face with a wild beast, we do not send for thegendarmes. We take our rifle and we shoot the wild beast. Otherwise, thebeast would tear us to pieces with its claws. "

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, over there, I acquired the habit of dispensing with thegendarmes. It is a rather summary way of doing justice, but it is thebest way, believe me, and to-day, in the present case, it is the onlyway. Once the beast is killed, you and I will bury it in some corner, unseen and unknown. "

"And Angélique?"

"We will tell her later. "

"What will become of her?"

"She will be my wife, the wife of the real d'Emboise. I desert herto-morrow and return to Algeria. The divorce will be granted in twomonths' time. "

The duke listened, pale and staring, with set jaws. He whispered:

"Are you sure that his accomplices on the yacht will not inform him ofyour escape?"

"Not before to-morrow. "

"So that . .. ?"

"So that inevitably, at nine o'clock this evening, Arsène Lupin, on hisway to the Great Oak, will take the patrol-path that follows the oldramparts and skirts the ruins of the chapel. I shall be there, in theruins. "

"I shall be there too, " said the Duc de Sarzeau-Vendôme, quietly, takingdown a gun. 

It was now five o'clock. The duke talked some time longer to his nephew, examined the weapons, loaded them with fresh cartridges. Then, whennight came, he took d'Emboise through the dark passages to his bedroomand hid him in an adjoining closet. 

Nothing further happened until dinner. The duke forced himself to keepcalm during the meal. From time to time, he stole a glance at hisson-in-law and was surprised at the likeness between him and the reald'Emboise. It was the same complexion, the same cast of features, thesame cut of hair. Nevertheless, the look of the eye was different, keener in this case and brighter; and gradually the duke discoveredminor details which had passed unperceived till then and which provedthe fellow's imposture. 

The party broke up after dinner. It was eight o'clock. The duke went tohis room and released his nephew. Ten minutes later, under cover of thedarkness, they slipped into the ruins, gun in hand. 

Meanwhile, Angélique, accompanied by her husband, had gone to the suiteof rooms which she occupied on the ground-floor of a tower that flankedthe left wing. Her husband stopped at the entrance to the rooms andsaid:

"I am going for a short stroll, Angélique. May I come to you here, whenI return?"

"Yes, " she replied. 

He left her and went up to the first floor, which had been assigned tohim as his quarters. The moment he was alone, he locked the door, noiselessly opened a window that looked over the landscape and leantout. He saw a shadow at the foot of the tower, some hundred feet or morebelow him. He whistled and received a faint whistle in reply. 

He then took from a cupboard a thick leather satchel, crammed withpapers, wrapped it in a piece of black cloth and tied it up. Then hesat down at the table and wrote:

 "Glad you got my message, for I think it unsafe to walk out of the castle with that large bundle of securities. Here they are. You will be in Paris, on your motor-cycle, in time to catch the morning train to Brussels, where you will hand over the bonds to Z. ; and he will negotiate them at once. 

 "A. L. 

 "P. S. --As you pass by the Great Oak, tell our chaps that I'm coming. I have some instructions to give them. But everything is going well. No one here has the least suspicion. "

He fastened the letter to the parcel and lowered both through the windowwith a length of string:

"Good, " he said. "That's all right. It's a weight off my mind. "

He waited a few minutes longer, stalking up and down the room andsmiling at the portraits of two gallant gentlemen hanging on the wall:

"Horace de Sarzeau-Vendôme, marshal of France. .. . And you, the GreatCondé . .. I salute you, my ancestors both. Lupin de Sarzeau-Vendôme willshow himself worthy of you. "

At last, when the time came, he took his hat and went down. But, when hereached the ground-floor, Angélique burst from her rooms and exclaimed, with a distraught air:

"I say . .. If you don't mind . .. I think you had better. .. . "

And then, without saying more, she went in again, leaving a vision ofirresponsible terror in her husband's mind. 

"She's out of sorts, " he said to himself. "Marriage doesn't suit her. "

He lit a cigarette and went out, without attaching importance to anincident that ought to have impressed him:

"Poor Angélique! This will all end in a divorce. .. . "

The night outside was dark, with a cloudy sky. 

The servants were closing the shutters of the castle. There was no lightin the windows, it being the duke's habit to go to bed soon afterdinner. 

Lupin passed the gate-keeper's lodge and, as he put his foot on thedrawbridge, said:

"Leave the gate open. I am going for a breath of air; I shall be backsoon. "

The patrol-path was on the right and ran along one of the old ramparts, which used to surround the castle with a second and much largerenclosure, until it ended at an almost demolished postern-gate. Thepark, which skirted a hillock and afterward followed the side of a deepvalley, was bordered on the left by thick coppices. 

"What a wonderful place for an ambush!" he said. "A regular cut-throatspot!"

He stopped, thinking that he heard a noise. But no, it was a rustling ofthe leaves. And yet a stone went rattling down the slopes, boundingagainst the rugged projections of the rock. But, strange to say, nothingseemed to disquiet him. The crisp sea-breeze came blowing over theplains of the headland; and he eagerly filled his lungs with it:

"What a thing it is to be alive!" he thought. "Still young, a member ofthe old nobility, a multi-millionaire: what could a man want more?"

At a short distance, he saw against the darkness the yet darker outlineof the chapel, the ruins of which towered above the path. A few drops ofrain began to fall; and he heard a clock strike nine. He quickened hispace. There was a short descent; then the path rose again. And suddenly, he stopped once more. 

A hand had seized his. 

He drew back, tried to release himself. 

But some one stepped from the clump of trees against which he wasbrushing; and a voice said; "Ssh!. .. Not a word!. .. "

He recognized his wife, Angélique:

"What's the matter?" he asked. 

She whispered, so low that he could hardly catch the words:

"They are lying in wait for you . .. They are in there, in the ruins, with their guns. .. . "

"Who?"

"Keep quiet. .. . Listen. .. . "

They stood for a moment without stirring; then she said:

"They are not moving. .. . Perhaps they never heard me. .. . Let's goback. .. . "

"But. .. . "

"Come with me. "

Her accent was so imperious that he obeyed without further question. Butsuddenly she took fright:

"Run!. .. They are coming!. .. I am sure of it!. .. "

True enough, they heard a sound of footsteps. 

Then, swiftly, still holding him by the hand, she dragged him, withirresistible energy, along a shortcut, following its turns withouthesitation in spite of the darkness and the brambles. And they very soonarrived at the drawbridge. 

She put her arm in his. The gate-keeper touched his cap. They crossedthe courtyard and entered the castle; and she led him to the cornertower in which both of them had their apartments:

"Come in here, " she said. 

"To your rooms?"

"Yes. "

Two maids were sitting up for her. Their mistress ordered them to retireto their bedrooms, on the third floor. 

Almost immediately after, there was a knock at the door of the outerroom; and a voice called:

"Angélique!"

"Is that you, father?" she asked, suppressing her agitation. 

"Yes. Is your husband here?"

"We have just come in. "

"Tell him I want to speak to him. Ask him to come to my room. It'simportant. "

"Very well, father, I'll send him to you. "

She listened for a few seconds, then returned to the boudoir where herhusband was and said:

"I am sure my father is still there. "

He moved as though to go out:

"In that case, if he wants to speak to me. .. . "

"My father is not alone, " she said, quickly, blocking his way. 

"Who is with him?"

"His nephew, Jacques d'Emboise. "

There was a moment's silence. He looked at her with a certainastonishment, failing quite to understand his wife's attitude. But, without pausing to go into the matter:

"Ah, so that dear old d'Emboise is there?" he chuckled. "Then the fat'sin the fire? Unless, indeed. .. . "

"My father knows everything, " she said. "I overheard a conversationbetween them just now. His nephew has read certain letters. .. . Ihesitated at first about telling you. .. . Then I thought that myduty. .. . "

He studied her afresh. But, at once conquered by the queerness of thesituation, he burst out laughing:

"What? Don't my friends on board ship burn my letters? And they have lettheir prisoner escape? The idiots! Oh, when you don't see to everythingyourself!. .. No matter, its distinctly humorous. .. . D'Emboise versusd'Emboise. .. . Oh, but suppose I were no longer recognized? Supposed'Emboise himself were to confuse me with himself?"

He turned to a wash-hand-stand, took a towel, dipped it in the basin andsoaped it and, in the twinkling of an eye, wiped the make-up from hisface and altered the set of his hair:

"That's it, " he said, showing himself to Angélique under the aspect inwhich she had seen him on the night of the burglary in Paris. "I feelmore comfortable like this for a discussion with my father-in-law. "

"Where are you going?" she cried, flinging herself in front of the door. 

"Why, to join the gentlemen. "

"You shall not pass!"

"Why not?"

"Suppose they kill you?"

"Kill me?"

"That's what they mean to do, to kill you . .. To hide your bodysomewhere. .. . Who would know of it?"

"Very well, " he said, "from their point of view, they are quite right. But, if I don't go to them, they will come here. That door won't stopthem. .. . Nor you, I'm thinking. Therefore, it's better to have done withit. "

"Follow me, " commanded Angélique. 

She took up the lamp that lit the room, went into her bedroom, pushedaside the wardrobe, which slid easily on hidden castors, pulled back anold tapestry-hanging, and said:

"Here is a door that has not been used for years. My father believes thekey to be lost. I have it here. Unlock the door with it. A staircase inthe wall will take you to the bottom of the tower. You need only drawthe bolts of another door and you will be free. "

He could hardly believe his ears. Suddenly, he grasped the meaning ofAngélique's whole behaviour. In front of that sad, plain, butwonderfully gentle face, he stood for a moment discountenanced, almostabashed. He no longer thought of laughing. A feeling of respect, mingledwith remorse and kindness, overcame him. 

"Why are you saving me?" he whispered. 

"You are my husband. "

He protested:

"No, no . .. I have stolen that title. The law will never recognize mymarriage. "

"My father does not want a scandal, " she said. 

"Just so, " he replied, sharply, "just so. I foresaw that; and that waswhy I had your cousin d'Emboise near at hand. Once I disappear, hebecomes your husband. He is the man you have married in the eyes ofmen. "

"You are the man I have married in the eyes of the Church. "

"The Church! The Church! There are means of arranging matters with theChurch. .. . Your marriage can be annulled. "

"On what pretext that we can admit?"

He remained silent, thinking over all those points which he had notconsidered, all those points which were trivial and absurd for him, butwhich were serious for her, and he repeated several times:

"This is terrible . .. This is terrible. .. . I should haveanticipated. .. . "

And, suddenly, seized with an idea, he clapped his hands and cried:

"There, I have it! I'm hand in glove with one of the chief figures atthe Vatican. The Pope never refuses me anything. I shall obtain anaudience and I have no doubt that the Holy Father, moved by myentreaties. .. . "

His plan was so humorous and his delight so artless that Angélique couldnot help smiling; and she said:

"I am your wife in the eyes of God. "

She gave him a look that showed neither scorn nor animosity, nor evenanger; and he realized that she omitted to see in him the outlaw and theevil-doer and remembered only the man who was her husband and to whomthe priest had bound her until the hour of death. 

He took a step toward her and observed her more attentively. She did notlower her eyes at first. But she blushed. And never had he seen sopathetic a face, marked with such modesty and such dignity. He said toher, as on that first evening in Paris:

"Oh, your eyes . .. The calm and sadness of your eyes . .. The beauty ofyour eyes!"

She dropped her head and stammered:

"Go away . .. Go . .. "

In the presence of her confusion, he received a quick intuition of thedeeper feelings that stirred her, unknown to herself. To that spinstersoul, of which he recognized the romantic power of imagination, theunsatisfied yearnings, the poring over old-world books, he suddenlyrepresented, in that exceptional moment and in consequence of theunconventional circumstances of their meetings, somebody special, aByronic hero, a chivalrous brigand of romance. One evening, in spite ofall obstacles, he, the world-famed adventurer, already ennobled in songand story and exalted by his own audacity, had come to her and slippedthe magic ring upon her finger: a mystic and passionate betrothal, as inthe days of the _Corsair_ and _Hernani_. .. . Greatly moved and touched, he was on the verge of giving way to an enthusiastic impulse andexclaiming:

"Let us go away together!. .. Let us fly!. .. You are my bride . .. Mywife. .. . Share my dangers, my sorrows and my joys. .. . It will be astrange and vigorous, a proud and magnificent life. .. . "

But Angélique's eyes were raised to his again; and they were so pure andso noble that he blushed in his turn. This was not the woman to whomsuch words could be addressed. 

He whispered:

"Forgive me. .. . I am a contemptible wretch. .. . I have wrecked yourlife. .. . "

"No, " she replied, softly. "On the contrary, you have shown me where myreal life lies. "

He was about to ask her to explain. But she had opened the door and waspointing the way to him. Nothing more could be spoken between them. Hewent out without a word, bowing very low as he passed. 

 * * * * *

A month later, Angélique de Sarzeau-Vendôme, Princesse de Bourbon-Condé, lawful wife of Arsène Lupin, took the veil and, under the name of SisterMarie-Auguste, buried herself within the walls of the VisitationConvent. 

On the day of the ceremony, the mother superior of the convent receiveda heavy sealed envelope containing a letter with the following words:

 "For Sister Marie-Auguste's poor. "

Enclosed with the letter were five hundred bank-notes of a thousandfrancs each. 

IX

THE INVISIBLE PRISONER

One day, at about four o'clock, as evening was drawing in, FarmerGoussot, with his four sons, returned from a day's shooting. They werestalwart men, all five of them, long of limb, broad-chested, with facestanned by sun and wind. And all five displayed, planted on an enormousneck and shoulders, the same small head with the low forehead, thinlips, beaked nose and hard and repellent cast of countenance. They werefeared and disliked by all around them. They were a money-grubbing, crafty family; and their word was not to be trusted. 

On reaching the old barbican-wall that surrounds the Hébervilleproperty, the farmer opened a narrow, massive door, putting the big keyback in his pocket after his sons had passed in. And he walked behindthem, along the path that led through the orchards. Here and there stoodgreat trees, stripped by the autumn winds, and clumps of pines, the lastsurvivors of the ancient park now covered by old Goussot's farm. 

One of the sons said:

"I hope mother has lit a log or two. "

"There's smoke coming from the chimney, " said the father. 

The outhouses and the homestead showed at the end of a lawn; and, abovethem, the village church, whose steeple seemed to prick the clouds thattrailed along the sky. 

"All the guns unloaded?" asked old Goussot. 

"Mine isn't, " said the eldest. "I slipped in a bullet to blow akestrel's head off. .. . "

He was the one who was proudest of his skill. And he said to hisbrothers:

"Look at that bough, at the top of the cherry tree. See me snap it off. "

On the bough sat a scarecrow, which had been there since spring andwhich protected the leafless branches with its idiot arms. 

He raised his gun and fired. 

The figure came tumbling down with large, comic gestures, and was caughton a big, lower branch, where it remained lying stiff on its stomach, with a great top hat on its head of rags and its hay-stuffed legsswaying from right to left above some water that flowed past the cherrytree through a wooden trough. 

They all laughed. The father approved:

"A fine shot, my lad. Besides, the old boy was beginning to annoy me. Icouldn't take my eyes from my plate at meals without catching sight ofthat oaf. .. . "

They went a few steps farther. They were not more than thirty yards fromthe house, when the father stopped suddenly and said:

"Hullo! What's up?"

The sons also had stopped and stood listening. One of them said, underhis breath:

"It comes from the house . .. From the linen-room. .. . "

And another spluttered:

"Sounds like moans. .. . And mother's alone!"

Suddenly, a frightful scream rang out. All five rushed forward. Anotherscream, followed by cries of despair. 

"We're here! We're coming!" shouted the eldest, who was leading. 

And, as it was a roundabout way to the door, he smashed in a window withhis fist and sprang into the old people's bedroom. The room next to itwas the linen-room, in which Mother Goussot spent most of her time. 

"Damnation!" he said, seeing her lying on the floor, with blood all overher face. "Dad! Dad!"

"What? Where is she?" roared old Goussot, appearing on the scene. "Goodlord, what's this?. .. What have they done to your mother?"

She pulled herself together and, with outstretched arm, stammered:

"Run after him!. .. This way!. .. This way!. .. I'm all right . .. Only ascratch or two. .. . But run, you! He's taken the money. "

The father and sons gave a bound:

"He's taken the money!" bellowed old Goussot, rushing to the door towhich his wife was pointing. "He's taken the money! Stop thief!"

But a sound of several voices rose at the end of the passage throughwhich the other three sons were coming:

"I saw him! I saw him!"

"So did I! He ran up the stairs. "

"No, there he is, he's coming down again!"

A mad steeplechase shook every floor in the house. Farmer Goussot, onreaching the end of the passage, caught sight of a man standing by thefront door trying to open it. If he succeeded, it meant safety, escapethrough the market square and the back lanes of the village. 

Interrupted as he was fumbling at the bolts, the man turning stupid, lost his head, charged at old Goussot and sent him spinning, dodged theeldest brother and, pursued by the four sons, doubled back down the longpassage, ran into the old couple's bedroom, flung his legs through thebroken window and disappeared. 

The sons rushed after him across the lawns and orchards, now darkened bythe falling night. 

"The villain's done for, " chuckled old Goussot. "There's no way out forhim. The walls are too high. He's done for, the scoundrel!"

The two farm-hands returned, at that moment, from the village; and hetold them what had happened and gave each of them a gun:

"If the swine shows his nose anywhere near the house, " he said, "let flyat him. Give him no mercy!"

He told them where to stand, went to make sure that the farm-gates, which were only used for the carts, were locked, and, not till then, remembered that his wife might perhaps be in need of aid:

"Well, mother, how goes it?"

"Where is he? Have you got him?" she asked, in a breath. 

"Yes, we're after him. The lads must have collared him by now. "

The news quite restored her; and a nip of rum gave her the strength todrag herself to the bed, with old Goussot's assistance, and to tell herstory. For that matter, there was not much to tell. She had just lit thefire in the living-hall; and she was knitting quietly at her bedroomwindow, waiting for the men to return, when she thought that she hearda slight grating sound in the linen-room next door:

"I must have left the cat in there, " she thought to herself. 

She went in, suspecting nothing, and was astonished to see the two doorsof one of the linen-cupboards, the one in which they hid their money, wide open. She walked up to it, still without suspicion. There was a manthere, hiding, with his back to the shelves. 

"But how did he get in?" asked old Goussot. 

"Through the passage, I suppose. We never keep the back door shut. "

"And then did he go for you?"

"No, I went for him. He tried to get away. "

"You should have let him. "

"And what about the money?"

"Had he taken it by then?"

"Had he taken it! I saw the bundle of bank-notes in his hands, thesweep! I would have let him kill me sooner. .. . Oh, we had a sharptussle, I give you my word!"

"Then he had no weapon?'

"No more than I did. We had our fingers, our nails and our teeth. Lookhere, where he bit me. And I yelled and screamed! Only, I'm an old womanyou see. .. . I had to let go of him. .. . "

"Do you know the man?"

"I'm pretty sure it was old Trainard. "

"The tramp? Why, of course it's old Trainard!" cried the farmer. "Ithought I knew him too. .. . Besides, he's been hanging round the housethese last three days. The old vagabond must have smelt the money. Aha, Trainard, my man, we shall see some fun! A number-one hiding in thefirst place; and then the police. .. . I say, mother, you can get up now, can't you? Then go and fetch the neighbours. .. . Ask them to run for thegendarmes. .. . By the by, the attorney's youngster has a bicycle. .. . Howthat damned old Trainard scooted! He's got good legs for his age, hehas. He can run like a hare!"

Goussot was holding his sides, revelling in the occurrence. He riskednothing by waiting. No power on earth could help the tramp escape orkeep him from the sound thrashing which he had earned and from beingconveyed, under safe escort, to the town gaol. 

The farmer took a gun and went out to his two labourers:

"Anything fresh?"

"No, Farmer Goussot, not yet. "

"We sha'n't have long to wait. Unless old Nick carries him over thewalls. .. . "

From time to time, they heard the four brothers hailing one another inthe distance. The old bird was evidently making a fight for it, wasmore active than they would have thought. Still, with sturdy fellowslike the Goussot brothers. .. . 

However, one of them returned, looking rather crestfallen, and made nosecret of his opinion:

"It's no use keeping on at it for the present. It's pitch dark. The oldchap must have crept into some hole. We'll hunt him out to-morrow. "

"To-morrow! Why, lad, you're off your chump!" protested the farmer. 

The eldest son now appeared, quite out of breath, and was of the sameopinion as his brother. Why not wait till next day, seeing that theruffian was as safe within the demesne as between the walls of a prison?

"Well, I'll go myself, " cried old Goussot. "Light me a lantern, somebody!"

But, at that moment, three gendarmes arrived; and a number of villagelads also came up to hear the latest. 

The sergeant of gendarmes was a man of method. He first insisted onhearing the whole story, in full detail; then he stopped to think; thenhe questioned the four brothers, separately, and took his time forreflection after each deposition. When he had learnt from them that thetramp had fled toward the back of the estate, that he had been lostsight of repeatedly and that he had finally disappeared near a placeknown as the Crows' Knoll, he meditated once more and announced hisconclusion:

"Better wait. Old Trainard might slip through our hands, amidst all theconfusion of a pursuit in the dark, and then good-night, everybody!"

The farmer shrugged his shoulders and, cursing under his breath, yieldedto the sergeant's arguments. That worthy organized a strict watch, distributed the brothers Goussot and the lads from the village under hismen's eyes, made sure that the ladders were locked away and establishedhis headquarters in the dining-room, where he and Farmer Goussot sat andnodded over a decanter of old brandy. 

The night passed quietly. Every two hours, the sergeant went his roundsand inspected the posts. There were no alarms. Old Trainard did notbudge from his hole. 

The battle began at break of day. 

It lasted four hours. 

In those four hours, the thirteen acres of land within the walls weresearched, explored, gone over in every direction by a score of men whobeat the bushes with sticks, trampled over the tall grass, rummaged inthe hollows of the trees and scattered the heaps of dry leaves. And oldTrainard remained invisible. 

"Well, this is a bit thick!" growled Goussot. 

"Beats me altogether, " retorted the sergeant. 

And indeed there was no explaining the phenomenon. For, after all, apartfrom a few old clumps of laurels and spindle-trees, which werethoroughly beaten, all the trees were bare. There was no building, noshed, no stack, nothing, in short, that could serve as a hiding-place. 

As for the wall, a careful inspection convinced even the sergeant thatit was physically impossible to scale it. 

In the afternoon, the investigations were begun all over again in thepresence of the examining-magistrate and the public-prosecutor's deputy. The results were no more successful. Nay, worse, the officials lookedupon the matter as so suspicious that they could not restrain theirill-humour and asked:

"Are you quite sure, Farmer Goussot, that you and your sons haven't beenseeing double?"

"And what about my wife?" retorted the farmer, red with anger. "Did shesee double when the scamp had her by the throat? Go and look at themarks, if you doubt me!"

"Very well. But then where is the scamp?"

"Here, between those four walls. "

"Very well. Then ferret him out. We give it up. It's quite clear, thatif a man were hidden within the precincts of this farm, we should havefound him by now. "

"I swear I'll lay hands on him, true as I stand here!" shouted FarmerGoussot. "It shall not be said that I've been robbed of six thousandfrancs. Yes, six thousand! There were three cows I sold; and then thewheat-crop; and then the apples. Six thousand-franc notes, which I wasjust going to take to the bank. Well, I swear to Heaven that the money'sas good as in my pocket!"

"That's all right and I wish you luck, " said the examining-magistrate, as he went away, followed by the deputy and the gendarmes. 

The neighbours also walked off in a more or less facetious mood. And, bythe end of the afternoon, none remained but the Goussots and the twofarm-labourers. 

Old Goussot at once explained his plan. By day, they were to search. Atnight, they were to keep an incessant watch. It would last as long as ithad to. Hang it, old Trainard was a man like other men; and men have toeat and drink! Old Trainard must needs, therefore, come out of his earthto eat and drink. 

"At most, " said Goussot, "he can have a few crusts of bread in hispocket, or even pull up a root or two at night. But, as far as drink'sconcerned, no go. There's only the spring. And he'll be a clever dog ifhe gets near that. "

He himself, that evening, took up his stand near the spring. Threehours later, his eldest son relieved him. The other brothers and thefarm-hands slept in the house, each taking his turn of the watch andkeeping all the lamps and candles lit, so that there might be nosurprise. 

So it went on for fourteen consecutive nights. And for fourteen days, while two of the men and Mother Goussot remained on guard, the fiveothers explored the Héberville ground. 

At the end of that fortnight, not a sign. 

The farmer never ceased storming. He sent for a retireddetective-inspector who lived in the neighbouring town. The inspectorstayed with him for a whole week. He found neither old Trainard nor theleast clue that could give them any hope of finding old Trainard. 

"It's a bit thick!" repeated Farmer Goussot. "For he's there, therascal! As far as being anywhere goes, he's there. So. .. . "

Planting himself on the threshold, he railed at the enemy at the top ofhis voice:

"You blithering idiot, would you rather croak in your hole than fork outthe money? Then croak, you pig!"

And Mother Goussot, in her turn, yelped, in her shrill voice:

"Is it prison you're afraid of? Hand over the notes and you can hookit!"

But old Trainard did not breathe a word; and the husband and wife tiredtheir lungs in vain. 

Shocking days passed. Farmer Goussot could no longer sleep, layshivering with fever. The sons became morose and quarrelsome and neverlet their guns out of their hands, having no other idea but to shoot thetramp. 

It was the one topic of conversation in the village; and the Goussotstory, from being local at first, soon went the round of the press. Newspaper-reporters came from the assize-town, from Paris itself, andwere rudely shown the door by Farmer Goussot. 

"Each man his own house, " he said. "You mind your business. I mind mine. It's nothing to do with any one. "

"Still, Farmer Goussot. .. . "

"Go to blazes!"

And he slammed the door in their face. 

Old Trainard had now been hidden within the walls of Héberville forsomething like four weeks. The Goussots continued their search asdoggedly and confidently as ever, but with daily decreasing hope, asthough they were confronted with one of those mysterious obstacles whichdiscourage human effort. And the idea that they would never see theirmoney again began to take root in them. 

 * * * * *

One fine morning, at about ten o'clock, a motor-car, crossing thevillage square at full speed, broke down and came to a dead stop. 

The driver, after a careful inspection, declared that the repairs wouldtake some little time, whereupon the owner of the car resolved to waitat the inn and lunch. He was a gentleman on the right side of forty, with close-cropped side-whiskers and a pleasant expression of face; andhe soon made himself at home with the people at the inn. 

Of course, they told him the story of the Goussots. He had not heard itbefore, as he had been abroad; but it seemed to interest him greatly. Hemade them give him all the details, raised objections, discussed varioustheories with a number of people who were eating at the same table andended by exclaiming:

"Nonsense! It can't be so intricate as all that. I have had someexperience of this sort of thing. And, if I were on the premises. .. . "

"That's easily arranged, " said the inn-keeper. "I know FarmerGoussot. .. . He won't object. .. . "

The request was soon made and granted. Old Goussot was in one of thoseframes of mind when we are less disposed to protest against outsideinterference. His wife, at any rate, was very firm:

"Let the gentleman come, if he wants to. "

The gentleman paid his bill and instructed his driver to try the car onthe high-road as soon as the repairs were finished:

"I shall want an hour, " he said, "no more. Be ready in an hour's time. "

Then he went to Farmer Goussot's. 

He did not say much at the farm. Old Goussot, hoping against hope, waslavish with information, took his visitor along the walls down to thelittle door opening on the fields, produced the key and gave minutedetails of all the searches that had been made so far. 

Oddly enough, the stranger, who hardly spoke, seemed not to listeneither. He merely looked, with a rather vacant gaze. When they had beenround the estate, old Goussot asked, anxiously:

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Do you think you know?"

The visitor stood for a moment without answering. Then he said:

"No, nothing. "

"Why, of course not!" cried the farmer, throwing up his arms. "Howshould you know! It's all hanky-panky. Shall I tell you what I think?Well, that old Trainard has been so jolly clever that he's lying dead inhis hole . .. And the bank-notes are rotting with him. Do you hear? Youcan take my word for it. "

The gentleman said, very calmly:

"There's only one thing that interests me. The tramp, all said and done, was free at night and able to feed on what he could pick up. But howabout drinking?"

"Out of the question!" shouted the farmer. "Quite out of the question!There's no water except this; and we have kept watch beside it everynight. "

"It's a spring. Where does it rise?"

"Here, where we stand. "

"Is there enough pressure to bring it into the pool of itself?"

"Yes. "

"And where does the water go when it runs out of the pool?"

"Into this pipe here, which goes under ground and carries it to thehouse, for use in the kitchen. So there's no way of drinking, seeingthat we were there and that the spring is twenty yards from the house. "

"Hasn't it rained during the last four weeks?"

"Not once: I've told you that already. "

The stranger went to the spring and examined it. The trough was formedof a few boards of wood joined together just above the ground; and thewater ran through it, slow and clear. 

"The water's not more than a foot deep, is it?" he asked. 

In order to measure it, he picked up from the grass a straw which hedipped into the pool. But, as he was stooping, he suddenly broke off andlooked around him. 

"Oh, how funny!" he said, bursting into a peal of laughter. 

"Why, what's the matter?" spluttered old Goussot, rushing toward thepool, as though a man could have lain hidden between those narrowboards. 

And Mother Goussot clasped her hands. 

"What is it? Have you seen him? Where is he?"

"Neither in it nor under it, " replied the stranger, who was stilllaughing. 

He made for the house, eagerly followed by the farmer, the old woman andthe four sons. The inn-keeper was there also, as were the people fromthe inn who had been watching the stranger's movements. And there was adead silence, while they waited for the extraordinary disclosure. 

"It's as I thought, " he said, with an amused expression. "The old chaphad to quench his thirst somewhere; and, as there was only thespring. .. . "

"Oh, but look here, " growled Farmer Goussot, "we should have seen him!"

"It was at night. "

"We should have heard him . .. And seen him too, as we were close by. "

"So was he. "

"And he drank the water from the pool?"

"Yes. "

"How?"

"From a little way off. "

"With what?"

"With this. "

And the stranger showed the straw which he had picked up:

"There, here's the straw for the customer's long drink. You will see, there's more of it than usual: in fact, it is made of three straws stuckinto one another. That was the first thing I noticed: those three strawsfastened together. The proof is conclusive. "

"But, hang it all, the proof of what?" cried Farmer Goussot, irritably. 

The stranger took a shotgun from the rack. 

"Is it loaded?" he asked. 

"Yes, " said the youngest of the brothers. "I use it to kill the sparrowswith, for fun. It's small shot. "

"Capital! A peppering where it won't hurt him will do the trick. "

His face suddenly assumed a masterful look. He gripped the farmer by thearm and rapped out, in an imperious tone:

"Listen to me, Farmer Goussot. I'm not here to do policeman's work; andI won't have the poor beggar locked up at any price. Four weeks ofstarvation and fright is good enough for anybody. So you've got to swearto me, you and your sons, that you'll let him off without hurting him. "

"He must hand over the money!"

"Well, of course. Do you swear?"

"I swear. "

The gentleman walked back to the door-sill, at the entrance to theorchard. He took a quick aim, pointing his gun a little in the air, inthe direction of the cherry tree which overhung the spring. He fired. Ahoarse cry rang from the tree; and the scarecrow which had beenstraddling the main branch for a month past came tumbling to the ground, only to jump up at once and make off as fast as its legs could carry it. 

There was a moment's amazement, followed by outcries. The sons darted inpursuit and were not long in coming up with the runaway, hampered as hewas by his rags and weakened by privation. But the stranger was alreadyprotecting him against their wrath:

"Hands off there! This man belongs to me. I won't have him touched. .. . Ihope I haven't stung you up too much, Trainard?"

Standing on his straw legs wrapped round with strips of tattered cloth, with his arms and his whole body clad in the same materials, his headswathed in linen, tightly packed like a sausage, the old chap still hadthe stiff appearance of a lay-figure. And the whole effect was soludicrous and so unexpected that the onlookers screamed with laughter. 

The stranger unbound his head; and they saw a veiled mask of tangledgray beard encroaching on every side upon a skeleton face lit up by twoeyes burning with fever. 

The laughter was louder than ever. 

"The money! The six notes!" roared the farmer. 

The stranger kept him at a distance:

"One moment . .. We'll give you that back, sha'n't we, Trainard?"

And, taking his knife and cutting away the straw and cloth, he jested, cheerily:

"You poor old beggar, what a guy you look! But how on earth did youmanage to pull off that trick? You must be confoundedly clever, or elseyou had the devil's own luck. .. . So, on the first night, you used thebreathing-time they left you to rig yourself in these togs! Not a badidea. Who could ever suspect a scarecrow?. .. They were so accustomed toseeing it stuck up in its tree! But, poor old daddy, how uncomfortableyou must have felt, lying flat up there on your stomach, with your armsand legs dangling down! All day long, like that! The deuce of anattitude! And how you must have been put to it, when you ventured tomove a limb, eh? And how you must have funked going to sleep!. .. Andthen you had to eat! And drink! And you heard the sentry and felt thebarrel of his gun within a yard of your nose! Brrrr!. .. But thetrickiest of all, you know, was your bit of straw!. .. Upon my word, whenI think that, without a sound, without a movement so to speak, you hadto fish out lengths of straw from your toggery, fix them end to end, letyour apparatus down to the water and suck up the heavenly moisture dropby drop. .. . Upon my word, one could scream with admiration. .. . Welldone, Trainard. .. . " And he added, between his teeth, "Only you're in avery unappetizing state, my man. Haven't you washed yourself all thismonth, you old pig? After all, you had as much water as you wanted!. .. Here, you people, I hand him over to you. I'm going to wash my hands, that's what I'm going to do. "

Farmer Goussot and his four sons grabbed at the prey which he wasabandoning to them:

"Now then, come along, fork out the money. "

Dazed as he was, the tramp still managed to simulate astonishment. 

"Don't put on that idiot look, " growled the farmer. "Come on. Out withthe six notes. .. . "

"What?. .. What do you want of me?" stammered old Trainard. 

"The money . .. On the nail. .. . "

"What money?"

"The bank-notes. "

"The bank-notes?"

"Oh, I'm getting sick of you! Here, lads. .. . "

They laid the old fellow flat, tore off the rags that composed hisclothes, felt and searched him all over. 

There was nothing on him. 

"You thief and you robber!" yelled old Goussot. "What have you done withit?"

The old beggar seemed more dazed than ever. Too cunning to confess, hekept on whining:

"What do you want of me?. .. Money? I haven't three sous to call myown. .. . "

But his eyes, wide with wonder, remained fixed upon his clothes; and hehimself seemed not to understand. 

The Goussots' rage could no longer be restrained. They rained blows uponhim, which did not improve matters. But the farmer was convinced thatTrainard had hidden the money before turning himself into the scarecrow:

"Where have you put it, you scum? Out with it! In what part of theorchard have you hidden it?"

"The money?" repeated the tramp with a stupid look. 

"Yes, the money! The money which you've buried somewhere. .. . Oh, if wedon't find it, your goose is cooked!. .. We have witnesses, haven'twe?. .. All of you, friends, eh? And then the gentleman. .. . "

He turned, with the intention of addressing the stranger, in thedirection of the spring, which was thirty or forty steps to the left. And he was quite surprised not to see him washing his hands there:

"Has he gone?" he asked. 

Some one answered:

"No, he lit a cigarette and went for a stroll in the orchard. "

"Oh, that's all right!" said the farmer. "He's the sort to find thenotes for us, just as he found the man. "

"Unless . .. " said a voice. 

"Unless what?" echoed the farmer. "What do you mean? Have you somethingin your head? Out with it, then! What is it?"

But he interrupted himself suddenly, seized with a doubt; and there wasa moment's silence. The same idea dawned on all the country-folk. Thestranger's arrival at Héberville, the breakdown of his motor, hismanner of questioning the people at the inn and of gaining admission tothe farm: were not all these part and parcel of a put-up job, the trickof a cracksman who had learnt the story from the papers and who had cometo try his luck on the spot?. .. 

"Jolly smart of him!" said the inn-keeper. "He must have taken the moneyfrom old Trainard's pocket, before our eyes, while he was searchinghim. "

"Impossible!" spluttered Farmer Goussot. "He would have been seen goingout that way . .. By the house . .. Whereas he's strolling in theorchard. "

Mother Goussot, all of a heap, suggested:

"The little door at the end, down there?. .. "

"The key never leaves me. "

"But you showed it to him. "

"Yes; and I took it back again. .. . Look, here it is. "

He clapped his hand to his pocket and uttered a cry:

"Oh, dash it all, it's gone!. .. He's sneaked it!. .. "

He at once rushed away, followed and escorted by his sons and a numberof the villagers. 

When they were halfway down the orchard, they heard the throb of amotor-car, obviously the one belonging to the stranger, who had givenorders to his chauffeur to wait for him at that lower entrance. 

When the Goussots reached the door, they saw scrawled with a brick, onthe worm-eaten panel, the two words:

 "ARSÈNE LUPIN. "

 * * * * *

Stick to it as the angry Goussots might, they found it impossible toprove that old Trainard had stolen any money. Twenty persons had to bearwitness that, when all was said, nothing was discovered on his person. He escaped with a few months' imprisonment for the assault. 

He did not regret them. As soon as he was released, he was secretlyinformed that, every quarter, on a given date, at a given hour, under agiven milestone on a given road, he would find three gold louis. 

To a man like old Trainard that means wealth. 

X

EDITH SWAN-NECK

"Arsène Lupin, what's your real opinion of Inspector Ganimard?"

"A very high one, my dear fellow. "

"A very high one? Then why do you never miss a chance of turning himinto ridicule?"

"It's a bad habit; and I'm sorry for it. But what can I say? It's theway of the world. Here's a decent detective-chap, here's a whole pack ofdecent men, who stand for law and order, who protect us against theapaches, who risk their lives for honest people like you and me; and wehave nothing to give them in return but flouts and gibes. It'spreposterous!"

"Bravo, Lupin! you're talking like a respectable ratepayer!"

"What else am I? I may have peculiar views about other people'sproperty; but I assure you that it's very different when my own's atstake. By Jove, it doesn't do to lay hands on what belongs to me! ThenI'm out for blood! Aha! It's _my_ pocket, _my_ money, _my_ watch . .. Hands off! I have the soul of a conservative, my dear fellow, theinstincts of a retired tradesman and a due respect for every sort oftradition and authority. And that is why Ganimard inspires me with nolittle gratitude and esteem. "

"But not much admiration?"

"Plenty of admiration too. Over and above the dauntless courage whichcomes natural to all those gentry at the Criminal InvestigationDepartment, Ganimard possesses very sterling qualities: decision, insight and judgment. I have watched him at work. He's somebody, whenall's said. Do you know the Edith Swan-neck story, as it was called?"

"I know as much as everybody knows. "

"That means that you don't know it at all. Well, that job was, Idaresay, the one which I thought out most cleverly, with the utmost careand the utmost precaution, the one which I shrouded in the greatestdarkness and mystery, the one which it took the biggest generalship tocarry through. It was a regular game of chess, played according tostrict scientific and mathematical rules. And yet Ganimard ended byunravelling the knot. Thanks to him, they know the truth to-day on theQuai des Orfèvres. And it is a truth quite out of the common, I assureyou. "

"May I hope to hear it?"

"Certainly . .. One of these days . .. When I have time. .. . But theBrunelli is dancing at the Opera to-night; and, if she were not to seeme in my stall . .. !"

I do not meet Lupin often. He confesses with difficulty, when it suitshim. It was only gradually, by snatches, by odds and ends ofconfidences, that I was able to obtain the different incidents and topiece the story together in all its details. 

 * * * * *

The main features are well known and I will merely mention the facts. 

Three years ago, when the train from Brest arrived at Rennes, the doorof one of the luggage vans was found smashed in. This van had beenbooked by Colonel Sparmiento, a rich Brazilian, who was travelling withhis wife in the same train. It contained a complete set oftapestry-hangings. The case in which one of these was packed had beenbroken open and the tapestry had disappeared. 

Colonel Sparmiento started proceedings against the railway-company, claiming heavy damages, not only for the stolen tapestry, but also forthe loss in value which the whole collection suffered in consequence ofthe theft. 

The police instituted inquiries. The company offered a large reward. Afortnight later, a letter which had come undone in the post was openedby the authorities and revealed the fact that the theft had beencarried out under the direction of Arsène Lupin and that a package wasto leave next day for the United States. That same evening, the tapestrywas discovered in a trunk deposited in the cloak-room at the GareSaint-Lazare. 

The scheme, therefore, had miscarried. Lupin felt the disappointment somuch that he vented his ill-humour in a communication to ColonelSparmiento, ending with the following words, which were clear enough foranybody:

 "It was very considerate of me to take only one. Next time, I shall take the twelve. _Verbum sap. _

 "A. L. "

Colonel Sparmiento had been living for some months in a house standingat the end of a small garden at the corner of the Rue de la Faisanderieand the Rue Dufresnoy. He was a rather thick-set, broad-shouldered man, with black hair and a swarthy skin, always well and quietly dressed. Hewas married to an extremely pretty but delicate Englishwoman, who wasmuch upset by the business of the tapestries. From the first sheimplored her husband to sell them for what they would fetch. The Colonelhad much too forcible and dogged a nature to yield to what he had everyright to describe as a woman's fancies. He sold nothing, but heredoubled his precautions and adopted every measure that was likely tomake an attempt at burglary impossible. 

To begin with, so that he might confine his watch to the garden-front, he walled up all the windows on the ground-floor and the first flooroverlooking the Rue Dufresnoy. Next, he enlisted the services of a firmwhich made a speciality of protecting private houses against robberies. Every window of the gallery in which the tapestries were hung was fittedwith invisible burglar alarms, the position of which was known, to nonebut himself. These, at the least touch, switched on all the electriclights and set a whole system of bells and gongs ringing. 

In addition to this, the insurance companies to which he applied refusedto grant policies to any considerable amount unless he consented to letthree men, supplied by the companies and paid by himself, occupy theground-floor of his house every night. They selected for the purposethree ex-detectives, tried and trustworthy men, all of whom hated Lupinlike poison. As for the servants, the colonel had known them for yearsand was ready to vouch for them. 

After taking these steps and organizing the defence of the house asthough it were a fortress, the colonel gave a great house-warming, asort of private view, to which he invited the members of both hisclubs, as well as a certain number of ladies, journalists, art-patronsand critics. 

They felt, as they passed through the garden-gate, much as if they werewalking into a prison. The three private detectives, posted at the footof the stairs, asked for each visitor's invitation card and eyed him upand down suspiciously, making him feel as though they were going tosearch his pockets or take his finger-prints. 

The colonel, who received his guests on the first floor, made laughingapologies and seemed delighted at the opportunity of explaining thearrangements which he had invented to secure the safety of his hangings. His wife stood by him, looking charmingly young and pretty, fair-haired, pale and sinuous, with a sad and gentle expression, the expression ofresignation often worn by those who are threatened by fate. 

When all the guests had come, the garden-gates and the hall-doors wereclosed. Then everybody filed into the middle gallery, which was reachedthrough two steel doors, while its windows, with their huge shutters, were protected by iron bars. This was where the twelve tapestries werekept. 

They were matchless works of art and, taking their inspiration from thefamous Bayeux Tapestry, attributed to Queen Matilda, they representedthe story of the Norman Conquest. They had been ordered in thefourteenth century by the descendant of a man-at-arms in William theConqueror's train; were executed by Jehan Gosset, a famous Arras weaver;and were discovered, five hundred years later, in an old Bretonmanor-house. On hearing of this, the colonel had struck a bargain forfifty thousand francs. They were worth ten times the money. 

But the finest of the twelve hangings composing the set, the mostuncommon because the subject had not been treated by Queen Matilda, wasthe one which Arsène Lupin had stolen and which had been so fortunatelyrecovered. It portrayed Edith Swan-neck on the battlefield of Hastings, seeking among the dead for the body of her sweetheart Harold, last ofthe Saxon kings. 

The guests were lost in enthusiasm over this tapestry, over theunsophisticated beauty of the design, over the faded colours, over thelife-like grouping of the figures and the pitiful sadness of the scene. Poor Edith Swan-neck stood drooping like an overweighted lily. Her whitegown revealed the lines of her languid figure. Her long, tapering handswere outstretched in a gesture of terror and entreaty. And nothing couldbe more mournful than her profile, over which flickered the mostdejected and despairing of smiles. 

"A harrowing smile, " remarked one of the critics, to whom the otherslistened with deference. "A very charming smile, besides; and it remindsme, Colonel, of the smile of Mme. Sparmiento. "

And seeing that the observation seemed to meet with approval, heenlarged upon his idea:

"There are other points of resemblance that struck me at once, such asthe very graceful curve of the neck and the delicacy of the hands . .. And also something about the figure, about the general attitude. .. . "

"What you say is so true, " said the colonel, "that I confess that it wasthis likeness that decided me to buy the hangings. And there was anotherreason, which was that, by a really curious chance, my wife's namehappens to be Edith. I have called her Edith Swan-neck ever since. " Andthe colonel added, with a laugh, "I hope that the coincidence will stopat this and that my dear Edith will never have to go in search of hertrue-love's body, like her prototype. "

He laughed as he uttered these words, but his laugh met with no echo;and we find the same impression of awkward silence in all the accountsof the evening that appeared during the next few days. The peoplestanding near him did not know what to say. One of them tried to jest:

"Your name isn't Harold, Colonel?"

"No, thank you, " he declared, with continued merriment. "No, that's notmy name; nor am I in the least like the Saxon king. "

All have since agreed in stating that, at that moment, as the colonelfinished speaking, the first alarm rang from the windows--the right orthe middle window: opinions differ on this point--rang short and shrillon a single note. The peal of the alarm-bell was followed by anexclamation of terror uttered by Mme. Sparmiento, who caught hold of herhusband's arm. He cried:

"What's the matter? What does this mean?"

The guests stood motionless, with their eyes staring at the windows. Thecolonel repeated:

"What does it mean? I don't understand. No one but myself knows wherethat bell is fixed. .. . "

And, at that moment--here again the evidence is unanimous--at thatmoment came sudden, absolute darkness, followed immediately by themaddening din of all the bells and all the gongs, from top to bottom ofthe house, in every room and at every window. 

For a few seconds, a stupid disorder, an insane terror, reigned. Thewomen screamed. The men banged with their fists on the closed doors. They hustled and fought. People fell to the floor and were trampledunder foot. It was like a panic-stricken crowd, scared by threateningflames or by a bursting shell. And, above the uproar, rose the colonel'svoice, shouting:

"Silence!. .. Don't move!. .. It's all right!. .. The switch is over there, in the corner. .. . Wait a bit. .. . Here!"

He had pushed his way through his guests and reached a corner of thegallery; and, all at once, the electric light blazed up again, while thepandemonium of bells stopped. 

Then, in the sudden light, a strange sight met the eyes. Two ladies hadfainted. Mme. Sparmiento, hanging to her husband's arm, with her kneesdragging on the floor, and livid in the face, appeared half dead. Themen, pale, with their neckties awry, looked as if they had all been inthe wars. 

"The tapestries are there!" cried some one. 

There was a great surprise, as though the disappearance of thosehangings ought to have been the natural result and the only plausibleexplanation of the incident. But nothing had been moved. A few valuablepictures, hanging on the walls, were there still. And, though the samedin had reverberated all over the house, though all the rooms had beenthrown into darkness, the detectives had seen no one entering or tryingto enter. 

"Besides, " said the colonel, "it's only the windows of the gallery thathave alarms. Nobody but myself understands how they work; and I had notset them yet. "

People laughed loudly at the way in which they had been frightened, butthey laughed without conviction and in a more or less shamefacedfashion, for each of them was keenly alive to the absurdity of hisconduct. And they had but one thought--to get out of that house where, say what you would, the atmosphere was one of agonizing anxiety. 

Two journalists stayed behind, however; and the colonel joined them, after attending to Edith and handing her over to her maids. The three ofthem, together with the detectives, made a search that did not lead tothe discovery of anything of the least interest. Then the colonel sentfor some champagne; and the result was that it was not until a latehour--to be exact, a quarter to three in the morning--that thejournalists took their leave, the colonel retired to his quarters, andthe detectives withdrew to the room which had been set aside for them onthe ground-floor. 

They took the watch by turns, a watch consisting, in the first place, inkeeping awake and, next, in looking round the garden and visiting thegallery at intervals. 

These orders were scrupulously carried out, except between five andseven in the morning, when sleep gained the mastery and the men ceasedto go their rounds. But it was broad daylight out of doors. Besides, ifthere had been the least sound of bells, would they not have woke up?

Nevertheless, when one of them, at twenty minutes past seven, opened thedoor of the gallery and flung back the shutters, he saw that the twelvetapestries were gone. 

This man and the others were blamed afterward for not giving the alarmat once and for starting their own investigations before informing thecolonel and telephoning to the local commissary. Yet this very excusabledelay can hardly be said to have hampered the action of the police. Inany case, the colonel was not told until half-past eight. He was dressedand ready to go out. The news did not seem to upset him beyond measure, or, at least, he managed to control his emotion. But the effort musthave been too much for him, for he suddenly dropped into a chair and, for some moments, gave way to a regular fit of despair and anguish, mostpainful to behold in a man of his resolute appearance. 

Recovering and mastering himself, he went to the gallery, stared at thebare walls and then sat down at a table and hastily scribbled a letter, which he put into an envelope and sealed. 

"There, " he said. "I'm in a hurry. .. . I have an important engagement. .. . Here is a letter for the commissary of police. " And, seeing thedetectives' eyes upon him, he added, "I am giving the commissary myviews . .. Telling him of a suspicion that occurs to me. .. . He mustfollow it up. .. . I will do what I can. .. . "

He left the house at a run, with excited gestures which the detectiveswere subsequently to remember. 

A few minutes later, the commissary of police arrived. He was handed theletter, which contained the following words:

 "I am at the end of my tether. The theft of those tapestries completes the crash which I have been trying to conceal for the past year. I bought them as a speculation and was hoping to get a million francs for them, thanks to the fuss that was made about them. As it was, an American offered me six hundred thousand. It meant my salvation. This means utter destruction. 

 "I hope that my dear wife will forgive the sorrow which I am bringing upon her. Her name will be on my lips at the last moment. "

Mme. Sparmiento was informed. She remained aghast with horror, whileinquiries were instituted and attempts made to trace the colonel'smovements. 

Late in the afternoon, a telephone-message came from Ville d'Avray. Agang of railway-men had found a man's body lying at the entrance to atunnel after a train had passed. The body was hideously mutilated; theface had lost all resemblance to anything human. There were no papers inthe pockets. But the description answered to that of the colonel. 

Mme. Sparmiento arrived at Ville d'Avray, by motor-car, at seven o'clockin the evening. She was taken to a room at the railway-station. When thesheet that covered it was removed, Edith, Edith Swan-neck, recognizedher husband's body. 

 * * * * *

In these circumstances, Lupin did not receive his usual good notices inthe press:

 "Let him look to himself, " jeered one leader-writer, summing up the general opinion. "It would not take many exploits of this kind for him to forfeit the popularity which has not been grudged him hitherto. We have no use for Lupin, except when his rogueries are perpetrated at the expense of shady company-promoters, foreign adventurers, German barons, banks and financial companies. And, above all, no murders! A burglar we can put up with; but a murderer, no! If he is not directly guilty, he is at least responsible for this death. There is blood upon his hands; the arms on his escutcheon are stained gules. .. . "

The public anger and disgust were increased by the pity which Edith'spale face aroused. The guests of the night before gave their version ofwhat had happened, omitting none of the impressive details; and a legendformed straightway around the fair-haired Englishwoman, a legend thatassumed a really tragic character, owing to the popular story of theswan-necked heroine. 

And yet the public could not withhold its admiration of theextraordinary skill with which the theft had been effected. The policeexplained it, after a fashion. The detectives had noticed from the firstand subsequently stated that one of the three windows of the gallery waswide open. There could be no doubt that Lupin and his confederates hadentered through this window. It seemed a very plausible suggestion. Still, in that case, how were they able, first, to climb the gardenrailings, in coming and going, without being seen; secondly, to crossthe garden and put up a ladder on the flower-border, without leaving theleast trace behind; thirdly, to open the shutters and the window, without starting the bells and switching on the lights in the house?

The police accused the three detectives of complicity. The magistratein charge of the case examined them at length, made minute inquiriesinto their private lives and stated formally that they were above allsuspicion. As for the tapestries, there seemed to be no hope that theywould be recovered. 

It was at this moment that Chief-inspector Ganimard returned from India, where he had been hunting for Lupin on the strength of a number of mostconvincing proofs supplied by former confederates of Lupin himself. Feeling that he had once more been tricked by his everlasting adversary, fully believing that Lupin had dispatched him on this wild-goose chaseso as to be rid of him during the business of the tapestries, he askedfor a fortnight's leave of absence, called on Mme. Sparmiento andpromised to avenge her husband. 

Edith had reached the point at which not even the thought of vengeancerelieves the sufferer's pain. She had dismissed the three detectives onthe day of the funeral and engaged just one man and an oldcook-housekeeper to take the place of the large staff of servants thesight of whom reminded her too cruelly of the past. Not caring whathappened, she kept her room and left Ganimard free to act as he pleased. 

He took up his quarters on the ground-floor and at once instituted aseries of the most minute investigations. He started the inquiryafresh, questioned the people in the neighbourhood, studied thedistribution of the rooms and set each of the burglar-alarms goingthirty and forty times over. 

At the end of the fortnight, he asked for an extension of leave. Thechief of the detective-service, who was at that time M. Dudouis, came tosee him and found him perched on the top of a ladder, in the gallery. That day, the chief-inspector admitted that all his searches had proveduseless. 

Two days later, however, M. Dudouis called again and discovered Ganimardin a very thoughtful frame of mind. A bundle of newspapers lay spread infront of him. At last, in reply to his superior's urgent questions, thechief-inspector muttered:

"I know nothing, chief, absolutely nothing; but there's a confoundednotion worrying me. .. . Only it seems so absurd. .. . And then it doesn'texplain things. .. . On the contrary, it confuses them rather. .. . "

"Then . .. ?"

"Then I implore you, chief, to have a little patience . .. To let me gomy own way. But if I telephone to you, some day or other, suddenly, youmust jump into a taxi, without losing a minute. It will mean that I havediscovered the secret. "

Forty-eight hours passed. Then, one morning, M. Dudouis received atelegram:

"Going to Lille. 

 "GANIMARD. "

"What the dickens can he want to go to Lille for?" wondered thechief-detective. 

The day passed without news, followed by another day. But M. Dudouis hadevery confidence in Ganimard. He knew his man, knew that the olddetective was not one of those people who excite themselves for nothing. When Ganimard "got a move on him, " it meant that he had sound reasonsfor doing so. 

As a matter of fact, on the evening of that second day, M. Dudouis wascalled to the telephone. 

"Is that you, chief?"

"Is it Ganimard speaking?"

Cautious men both, they began by making sure of each other's identity. As soon as his mind was eased on this point, Ganimard continued, hurriedly:

"Ten men, chief, at once. And please come yourself. "

"Where are you?"

"In the house, on the ground-floor. But I will wait for you just insidethe garden-gate. "

"I'll come at once. In a taxi, of course?"

"Yes, chief. Stop the taxi fifty yards from the house. I'll let you inwhen you whistle. "

Things took place as Ganimard had arranged. Shortly after midnight, whenall the lights were out on the upper floors, he slipped into the streetand went to meet M. Dudouis. There was a hurried consultation. Theofficers distributed themselves as Ganimard ordered. Then the chief andthe chief-inspector walked back together, noiselessly crossed the gardenand closeted themselves with every precaution:

"Well, what's it all about?" asked M. Dudouis. "What does all this mean?Upon my word, we look like a pair of conspirators!"

But Ganimard was not laughing. His chief had never seen him in such astate of perturbation, nor heard him speak in a voice denoting suchexcitement:

"Any news, Ganimard?"

"Yes, chief, and . .. This time . .. ! But I can hardly believe itmyself. .. . And yet I'm not mistaken: I know the real truth. .. . It may beas unlikely as you please, but it is the truth, the whole truth andnothing but the truth. "

He wiped away the drops of perspiration that trickled down his foreheadand, after a further question from M. Dudouis, pulled himself together, swallowed a glass of water and began:

"Lupin has often got the better of me. .. . "

"Look here, Ganimard, " said M. Dudouis, interrupting him. "Why can't youcome straight to the point? Tell me, in two words, what's happened. "

"No, chief, " retorted the chief-inspector, "it is essential that youshould know the different stages which I have passed through. Excuse me, but I consider it indispensable. " And he repeated: "I was saying, chief, that Lupin has often got the better of me and led me many a dance. But, in this contest in which I have always come out worst . .. So far . .. Ihave at least gained experience of his manner of play and learnt to knowhis tactics. Now, in the matter of the tapestries, it occurred to mealmost from the start to set myself two problems. In the first place, Lupin, who never makes a move without knowing what he is after, wasobviously aware that Colonel Sparmiento had come to the end of his moneyand that the loss of the tapestries might drive him to suicide. Nevertheless, Lupin, who hates the very thought of bloodshed, stole thetapestries. "

"There was the inducement, " said M. Dudouis, "of the five or six hundredthousand francs which they are worth. "

"No, chief, I tell you once more, whatever the occasion might be, Lupinwould not take life, nor be the cause of another person's death, foranything in this world, for millions and millions. That's the firstpoint. In the second place, what was the object of all that disturbance, in the evening, during the house-warming party? Obviously, don't youthink, to surround the business with an atmosphere of anxiety andterror, in the shortest possible time, and also to divert suspicion fromthe truth, which, otherwise, might easily have been suspected?. .. Youseem not to understand, chief?"

"Upon my word, I do not!"

"As a matter of fact, " said Ganimard, "as a matter of fact, it is notparticularly plain. And I myself, when I put the problem before my mindin those same words, did not understand it very clearly. .. . And yet Ifelt that I was on the right track. .. . Yes, there was no doubt about itthat Lupin wanted to divert suspicions . .. To divert them to himself, Lupin, mark you . .. So that the real person who was working the businessmight remain unknown. .. . "

"A confederate, " suggested M. Dudouis. "A confederate, moving among thevisitors, who set the alarms going . .. And who managed to hide in thehouse after the party had broken up. "

"You're getting warm, chief, you're getting warm! It is certain that thetapestries, as they cannot have been stolen by any one making his waysurreptitiously into the house, were stolen by somebody who remained inthe house; and it is equally certain that, by taking the list of thepeople invited and inquiring into the antecedents of each of them, onemight. .. . "

"Well?"

"Well, chief, there's a 'but, ' namely, that the three detectives hadthis list in their hands when the guests arrived and that they still hadit when the guests left. Now sixty-three came in and sixty-three wentaway. So you see. .. . "

"Then do you suppose a servant?. .. "

"No. "

"The detectives?"

"No. "

"But, still . .. But, still, " said the chief, impatiently, "if therobbery was committed from the inside. .. . "

"That is beyond dispute, " declared the inspector, whose excitementseemed to be nearing fever-point. "There is no question about it. All myinvestigations led to the same certainty. And my conviction graduallybecame so positive that I ended, one day, by drawing up this startlingaxiom: in theory and in fact, the robbery can only have been committedwith the assistance of an accomplice staying in the house. Whereas therewas no accomplice!"

"That's absurd, " said Dudouis. 

"Quite absurd, " said Ganimard. "But, at the very moment when I utteredthat absurd sentence, the truth flashed upon me. "

"Eh?"

"Oh, a very dim, very incomplete, but still sufficient truth! With thatclue to guide me, I was bound to find the way. Do you follow me, chief?"

M. Dudouis sat silent. The same phenomenon that had taken place inGanimard was evidently taking place in him. He muttered:

"If it's not one of the guests, nor the servants, nor the privatedetectives, then there's no one left. .. . "

"Yes, chief, there's one left. .. . "

M. Dudouis started as though he had received a shock; and, in a voicethat betrayed his excitement:

"But, look here, that's preposterous. "

"Why?"

"Come, think for yourself!"

"Go on, chief: say what's in your mind. "

"Nonsense! What do you mean?"

"Go on, chief. "

"It's impossible! How can Sparmiento have been Lupin's accomplice?"

Ganimard gave a little chuckle. 

"Exactly, Arsène Lupin's accomplice!. .. That explains everything. Duringthe night, while the three detectives were downstairs watching, orsleeping rather, for Colonel Sparmiento had given them champagne todrink and perhaps doctored it beforehand, the said colonel took down thehangings and passed them out through the window of his bedroom. The roomis on the second floor and looks out on another street, which was notwatched, because the lower windows are walled up. "

M. Dudouis reflected and then shrugged his shoulders:

"It's preposterous!" he repeated. 

"Why?"

"Why? Because, if the colonel had been Arsène Lupin's accomplice, hewould not have committed suicide after achieving his success. "

"Who says that he committed suicide?"

"Why, he was found dead on the line!"

"I told you, there is no such thing as death with Lupin. "

"Still, this was genuine enough. Besides, Mme. Sparmiento identified thebody. "

"I thought you would say that, chief. The argument worried me too. Therewas I, all of a sudden, with three people in front of me instead of one:first, Arsène Lupin, cracksman; secondly, Colonel Sparmiento, hisaccomplice; thirdly, a dead man. Spare us! It was too much of a goodthing!"

Ganimard took a bundle of newspapers, untied it and handed one of themto Mr. Dudouis:

"You remember, chief, last time you were here, I was looking through thepapers. .. . I wanted to see if something had not happened, at thatperiod, that might bear upon the case and confirm my supposition. Pleaseread this paragraph. "

M. Dudouis took the paper and read aloud:

 "Our Lille correspondent informs us that a curious incident has occurred in that town. A corpse has disappeared from the local morgue, the corpse of a man unknown who threw himself under the wheels of a steam tram-car on the day before. No one is able to suggest a reason for this disappearance. "

M. Dudouis sat thinking and then asked:

"So . .. You believe . .. ?"

"I have just come from Lille, " replied Ganimard, "and my inquiries leavenot a doubt in my mind. The corpse was removed on the same night onwhich Colonel Sparmiento gave his house-warming. It was taken straightto Ville d'Avray by motor-car; and the car remained near therailway-line until the evening. "

"Near the tunnel, therefore, " said M. Dudouis. 

"Next to it, chief. "

"So that the body which was found is merely that body, dressed inColonel Sparmiento's clothes. "

"Precisely, chief. "

"Then Colonel Sparmiento is not dead?"

"No more dead than you or I, chief. "

"But then why all these complications? Why the theft of one tapestry, followed by its recovery, followed by the theft of the twelve? Why thathouse-warming? Why that disturbance? Why everything? Your story won'thold water, Ganimard. "

"Only because you, chief, like myself, have stopped halfway; because, strange as this story already sounds, we must go still farther, verymuch farther, in the direction of the improbable and the astounding. Andwhy not, after all? Remember that we are dealing with Arsène Lupin. Withhim, is it not always just the improbable and the astounding that wemust look for? Must we not always go straight for the maddestsuppositions? And, when I say the maddest, I am using the wrong word. Onthe contrary, the whole thing is wonderfully logical and so simple thata child could understand it. Confederates only betray you. Why employconfederates, when it is so easy and so natural to act for yourself, byyourself, with your own hands and by the means within your own reach?"

"What are you saying?. .. What are you saying?. .. What are you saying?"cried M. Dudouis, in a sort of sing-song voice and a tone ofbewilderment that increased with each separate exclamation. 

Ganimard gave a fresh chuckle. 

"Takes your breath away, chief, doesn't it? So it did mine, on the daywhen you came to see me here and when the notion was beginning to growupon me. I was flabbergasted with astonishment. And yet I've hadexperience of my customer. I know what he's capable of. .. . But this, no, this was really a bit too stiff!"

"It's impossible! It's impossible!" said M. Dudouis, in a low voice. 

"On the contrary, chief, it's quite possible and quite logical and quitenormal. It's the threefold incarnation of one and the same individual. Aschoolboy would solve the problem in a minute, by a simple process ofelimination. Take away the dead man: there remains Sparmiento and Lupin. Take away Sparmiento. .. . "

"There remains Lupin, " muttered the chief-detective. 

"Yes, chief, Lupin simply, Lupin in five letters and two syllables, Lupin taken out of his Brazilian skin, Lupin revived from the dead, Lupin translated, for the past six months, into Colonel Sparmiento, travelling in Brittany, hearing of the discovery of the twelvetapestries, buying them, planning the theft of the best of them, so asto draw attention to himself, Lupin, and divert it from himself, Sparmiento. Next, he brings about, in full view of the gaping public, anoisy contest between Lupin and Sparmiento or Sparmiento and Lupin, plots and gives the house-warming party, terrifies his guests and, wheneverything is ready, arranges for Lupin to steal Sparmiento's tapestriesand for Sparmiento, Lupin's victim, to disappear from sight and dieunsuspected, unsuspectable, regretted by his friends, pitied by thepublic and leaving behind him, to pocket the profits of the swindle. .. . "

Ganimard stopped, looked the chief in the eyes and, in a voice thatemphasized the importance of his words, concluded:

"Leaving behind him a disconsolate widow. "

"Mme. Sparmiento! You really believe. .. . ?

"Hang it all!" said the chief-inspector. "People don't work up a wholebusiness of this sort, without seeing something ahead of them . .. Solidprofits. "

"But the profits, it seems to me, lie in the sale of the tapestrieswhich Lupin will effect in America or elsewhere. "

"First of all, yes. But Colonel Sparmiento could effect that sale justas well. And even better. So there's something more. "

"Something more?"

"Come, chief, you're forgetting that Colonel Sparmiento has been thevictim of an important robbery and that, though he may be dead, at leasthis widow remains. So it's his widow who will get the money. "

"What money?"

"What money? Why, the money due to her! The insurance-money, of course!"

M. Dudouis was staggered. The whole business suddenly became clear tohim, with its real meaning. He muttered:

"That's true!. .. That's true!. .. The colonel had insured histapestries. .. . "

"Rather! And for no trifle either. "

"For how much?"

"Eight hundred thousand francs. "

"Eight hundred thousand?"

"Just so. In five different companies. "

"And has Mme. Sparmiento had the money?"

"She got a hundred and fifty thousand francs yesterday and two hundredthousand to-day, while I was away. The remaining payments are to be madein the course of this week. "

"But this is terrible! You ought to have. .. . "

"What, chief? To begin with, they took advantage of my absence tosettle up accounts with the companies. I only heard about it on myreturn when I ran up against an insurance-manager whom I happen to knowand took the opportunity of drawing him out. "

The chief-detective was silent for some time, not knowing what to say. Then he mumbled:

"What a fellow, though!"

Ganimard nodded his head:

"Yes, chief, a blackguard, but, I can't help saying, a devil of a cleverfellow. For his plan to succeed, he must have managed in such a waythat, for four or five weeks, no one could express or even conceive theleast suspicion of the part played by Colonel Sparmiento. All theindignation and all the inquiries had to be concentrated upon Lupinalone. In the last resort, people had to find themselves faced simplywith a mournful, pitiful, penniless widow, poor Edith Swan-neck, abeautiful and legendary vision, a creature so pathetic that thegentlemen of the insurance-companies were almost glad to place somethingin her hands to relieve her poverty and her grief. That's what waswanted and that's what happened. "

The two men were close together and did not take their eyes from eachother's faces. 

The chief asked:

"Who is that woman?"

"Sonia Kritchnoff. "

"Sonia Kritchnoff?"

"Yes, the Russian girl whom I arrested last year at the time of thetheft of the coronet, and whom Lupin helped to escape. "[E]

 [E] _Arsène Lupin. _ The Novel of the Play. By Edgar Jepson and Maurice Leblanc (Mills & Boon). 

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I was put off the scent, like everybody else, by Lupin'smachinations, and had paid no particular attention to her. But, when Iknew the part which she was playing, I remembered. She is certainlySonia, metamorphosed into an Englishwoman; Sonia, the mostinnocent-looking and the trickiest of actresses; Sonia, who would nothesitate to face death for love of Lupin. "

"A good capture, Ganimard, " said M. Dudouis, approvingly. 

"I've something better still for you, chief!"

"Really? What?"

"Lupin's old foster-mother. "

"Victoire?"[F]

 [F] _The Hollow Needle. _ By Maurice Leblanc. Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos (Nash). _813_ By Maurice Leblanc. Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos (Mills & Boon). 

"She has been here since Mme. Sparmiento began playing the widow; she'sthe cook. "

"Oho!" said M. Dudouis. "My congratulations, Ganimard!"

"I've something for you, chief, that's even better than that!"

M. Dudouis gave a start. The inspector's hand clutched his and wasshaking with excitement. 

"What do you mean, Ganimard?"

"Do you think, chief, that I would have brought you here, at this latehour, if I had had nothing more attractive to offer you than Sonia andVictoire? Pah! They'd have kept!"

"You mean to say . .. ?" whispered M. Dudouis, at last, understanding thechief-inspector's agitation. 

"You've guessed it, chief!"

"Is he here?"

"He's here. "

"In hiding?"

"Not a bit of it. Simply in disguise. He's the man-servant. "

This time, M. Dudouis did not utter a word nor make a gesture. Lupin'saudacity confounded him. 

Ganimard chuckled. 

"It's no longer a threefold, but a fourfold incarnation. Edith Swan-neckmight have blundered. The master's presence was necessary; and he hadthe cheek to return. For three weeks, he has been beside me during myinquiry, calmly following the progress made. "

"Did you recognize him?"

"One doesn't recognize him. He has a knack of making-up his face andaltering the proportions of his body so as to prevent any one fromknowing him. Besides, I was miles from suspecting. .. . But, this evening, as I was watching Sonia in the shadow of the stairs, I heard Victoirespeak to the man-servant and call him, 'Dearie. ' A light flashed in uponme. 'Dearie!' That was what she always used to call him. And I knewwhere I was. "

M. Dudouis seemed flustered, in his turn, by the presence of the enemy, so often pursued and always so intangible:

"We've got him, this time, " he said, between his teeth. "We've got him;and he can't escape us. "

"No, chief, he can't: neither he nor the two women. "

"Where are they?"

"Sonia and Victoire are on the second floor; Lupin is on the third. "

M. Dudouis suddenly became anxious:

"Why, it was through the windows of one of those floors that thetapestries were passed when they disappeared!"

"That's so, chief. "

"In that case, Lupin can get away too. The windows look out on the RueDufresnoy. "

"Of course they do, chief; but I have taken my precautions. The momentyou arrived, I sent four of our men to keep watch under the windows inthe Rue Dufresnoy. They have strict instructions to shoot, if any oneappears at the windows and looks like coming down. Blank cartridges forthe first shot, ball-cartridges for the next. "

"Good, Ganimard! You have thought of everything. We'll wait here; and, immediately after sunrise. .. . "

"Wait, chief? Stand on ceremony with that rascal? Bother about rules andregulations, legal hours and all that rot? And suppose he's not quite sopolite to us and gives us the slip meanwhile? Suppose he plays us one ofhis Lupin tricks? No, no, we must have no nonsense! We've got him: let'scollar him; and that without delay!"

And Ganimard, all a-quiver with indignant impatience, went out, walkedacross the garden and presently returned with half-a-dozen men:

"It's all right, chief. I've told them, in the Rue Dufresnoy, to gettheir revolvers out and aim at the windows. Come along. "

These alarums and excursions had not been effected without a certainamount of noise, which was bound to be heard by the inhabitants of thehouse. M. Dudouis felt that his hand was forced. He made up his mind toact:

"Come on, then, " he said. 

The thing did not take long. The eight of them, Browning pistols inhand, went up the stairs without overmuch precaution, eager to surpriseLupin before he had time to organize his defences. 

"Open the door!" roared Ganimard, rushing at the door of Mme. Sparmiento's bedroom. 

A policeman smashed it in with his shoulder. 

There was no one in the room; and no one in Victoire's bedroom either. 

"They're all upstairs!" shouted Ganimard. "They've gone up to Lupin inhis attic. Be careful now!"

All the eight ran up the third flight of stairs. To his greatastonishment, Ganimard found the door of the attic open and the atticempty. And the other rooms were empty too. 

"Blast them!" he cursed. "What's become of them?"

But the chief called him. M. Dudouis, who had gone down again to thesecond floor, noticed that one of the windows was not latched, but justpushed to:

"There, " he said, to Ganimard, "that's the road they took, the road ofthe tapestries. I told you as much: the Rue Dufresnoy. .. . "

"But our men would have fired on them, " protested Ganimard, grinding histeeth with rage. "The street's guarded. "

"They must have gone before the street was guarded. "

"They were all three of them in their rooms when I rang you up, chief!"

"They must have gone while you were waiting for me in the garden. "

"But why? Why? There was no reason why they should go to-day rather thanto-morrow, or the next day, or next week, for that matter, when they hadpocketed all the insurance-money!"

Yes, there was a reason; and Ganimard knew it when he saw, on the table, a letter addressed to himself and opened it and read it. The letter wasworded in the style of the testimonials which we hand to people in ourservice who have given satisfaction:

 "I, the undersigned, Arsène Lupin, gentleman-burglar, ex-colonel, ex-man-of-all-work, ex-corpse, hereby certify that the person of the name of Ganimard gave proof of the most remarkable qualities during his stay in this house. He was exemplary in his behaviour, thoroughly devoted and attentive; and, unaided by the least clue, he foiled a part of my plans and saved the insurance-companies four hundred and fifty thousand francs. I congratulate him; and I am quite willing to overlook his blunder in not anticipating that the downstairs telephone communicates with the telephone in Sonia Kritchnoff's bedroom and that, when telephoning to Mr. Chief-detective, he was at the same time telephoning to me to clear out as fast as I could. It was a pardonable slip, which must not be allowed to dim the glamour of his services nor to detract from the merits of his victory. 

 "Having said this, I beg him to accept the homage of my admiration and of my sincere friendship. 

 "ARSÈNE LUPIN"